“Are Mother and Father here?” Tol asked, spine stiff. I couldn’t tell if he’d seen his mistake with his sister or not; he was guarding his emotions.
Lyria crossed her arms. “No.”
Tol’s shoulders drooped, but he continued to run a hand along his jaw, showing no other sign of disappointment. “Thank you for coming,” he whispered.
“Of course.” Lyria’s voice softened, so unlike her previous fire. Her eyes were mirrors of Tol’s—deep, imploring, a wealth of emotion she didn’t want seen. But it could barely be hidden as she hugged him to her, and I recognized that desperation to protect your younger siblings.
It seemed Tol did have a family member looking out for him after all.
The Vincienzo heir stepped back and looked between her brother and me, one corner of her lips quirking in a smirk that matched his. “I hear tonight will be the largest Daminius celebration in years. I couldn’t let you all have fun without me.” With the same ease heryounger brother had perfected at a young age, Lyria flicked her hair over her shoulder and winked at me.
I grinned in return. “Welcome to Damenal.”
I’d always admired Lyria—had been jealous of her when she rode off to join the war. As she stood back and whispered to a platinum-haired woman I didn’t recognize, I was grateful to have another fierce female warrior among us.
“Reunions aside,” my own sister said, wrapping her arm around my waist and dropping her head on my shoulder. “We need to get ready for the Sunquist Ball, but there are some things that must be addressed first.” Jezebel turned to face me, expression somewhere between heartbroken and horrified. “A lot has happened.”
My brows pulled together as I surveyed the room. They all wore indeterminable expressions, the initial elation from our return wearing off.
“What’s happened?” I removed my arm from around Jez and stood up straighter. Had there been an attack? Spirits, if I was galivanting around the continent and Mystiques had suffered for it?—
“We figured everything out while you were gone,” Malakai said, teeth clenched.
“You’ve kept a number of secrets, sister,” Jezebel scolded. There was none of her usual humor in her voice.
“What are you talking about?” I’d kept secrets, yes, but how was that important right now?
Malakai looked ready to snap, but Cyph placed a hand on his shoulder. Malakai took a breath. “The Angelcurse and Kakias’s motivations. We know it all.”
“What the fuck is an Angelcurse?” Tolek asked, but no one answered him.
I couldn’t.
I was too busy falling into the pit opening up beneath my feet, breath escaping my lungs as I finally put names to the expressions of everyone before me: anger, betrayal, fear. Even Cypherion looked concerned with a tinge of disappointment.
“You found the Angelcurse?” I directed it at Rina. She nodded. It was what I’d hoped in asking her about curses. That she’d find out about the one from Damien’s prophecy so we could discuss it. But I’dhoped she’d have come to me. Fate truly was playing with our timing. “And you told everyone?”
“Ophelia, I didn’t have a choice.” She placed a heavy book on the side table, worn leather creaking as she rifled through the pages to read a passage, ending with, “There is no cure but blood for seraphs kissed by the Angels. Death is the ultimate sacrifice.”
It didn’t take long for me to piece together what they had. Suddenly, I was back on that balcony with Damien, the morning after Malakai and I had been reunited and Lucidius killed.You were never at risk of suffering fromthatcurse, he’d said.
The former case on a Mystique Warrior hundreds of years ago—Annellius.
A task by the Angels—what killed my ancestor.
Unite them. But…Death is the ultimate sacrifice.
No cure.
No cure.
No cure.
Fucking Angels. I’d known I’d follow Annellius’s fate if I failed, but what was success? Death? Was that the sacrifice the Angelcurse demanded?
A hand snaked around my shoulders, squeezing once and snapping me out of my spiral. Tol looked down at me, concern creasing his brow.
“Someone explain to me what the fuck is going on here,” he demanded.
