Her scream echoed off the stone. Her raven screeched.
Aydra’s hands caught herself on the stone edge. Her feet dangled. She stretched for anything to help her push herself up.
But Rhaif was standing at the edge of the room over her, and Aydra’s core froze at the sight of his eighteen-year-old self staring at her with such malice in his gaze.
“Very good, my son.”
The coo of her mother’s voice sent a chill down Aydra’s spine.
She’d never heard her call him ‘my son’ before.
Aydra watched Arbina stretch the space between them and wrap an arm around Rhaif’s shoulders, ignoring Aydra’s struggling figure hanging from the edge. Aydra grappled with her slipping grip.
Arbina led Rhaif over to the edge of her pool.
“You are ready,” Arbina told him, a smile on her face.
Rhaif’s chest swelled, and Arbina led him deeper into the water.
Aydra’s feet finally found a rock to sink in to. She hoisted herself up, pulling her body up and over the white stone. She rolled onto the floor just as she saw her brother’s head dive beneath the liquid. Bubbles erupted onto the surface. She could hear his screams, see the blood from the waters cutting through his skin as he was marked.
Blue flames engulfed the surface.
Aydra’s eyes widened. Her raven landed beside her, and it gave her finger a comforting nip.
It was the sight of her brother walking out of the pool that made her heart stop.
His clothes had been ripped of him. He was soaking wet, his navy black hair matted down over his daring eyes. Streaks of black ran up his torso like veins beneath his skin. His hands and wrists were blackened with the ash of the Promised King.
His chest heaved up and down with deliberate labored breaths.
But in his hand was something she didn’t expect—the gleam of a bright silver sword danced in the sunlight, and his fist curled around the handle.
Arbina stepped up to him, her arms crossed over her chest, chin raised in the air. She reached out and stroked his cheek.
“Show your form, Rhafian Sunfire.”
Rhaif’s shout bellowed through the air. Blue flames erupted onto his skin.
Aydra felt her core drain as she watched her brother take his true form.
Their elder, Vasilis, had died that night.
The moons were shining bright through her window when Aydra’s eyes fluttered open. She thought she’d heard something. A shadow passed between she and the window, and she jumped so fiercely, water splashed onto the floor.
Draven was staring down at her with a frown.
“Sweet Arbina, Draven,” she breathed, willing her heart to beat at a normal pace.
“Why are you asleep in the tub?” he asked.
She sighed heavily and rubbed her face, the memory of why she was there and the dreams she’d just had filling her mind. Her hands grasped to the sides of the tub, and she shook her head.
“It’s nothing,” she managed. “Just a bit overwhelmed.”
He reached for her robe and held it for her as she stood. The look on his face made her heart tighten.
“Don’t look at me like that, Draven,” she said, slipping her arms into the warmth of the thicker robe. “I simply had a long day.”
