“You are hereby called to choose the patron or patroness of your journey.”
Seniia is first in line, and after circling one time, she steps to the side next to Briah. The goddess whispers something to her, and from the smile on Seniia’s face and how Briah touches her shoulder in a familiar way, it is clear they know each other. She goes on to kneel behind Briah, forehead to the ground once more.
More seekers follow. Some circle once, others circle several times before they choose. I have no idea how they know where to go. Intuition maybe. Three, including the beautiful female with the twisted braids, choose Tiran. Another two males join Seniia next to Briah, while Xepher and Cyra get two each.
Now it’s Vilder’s turn. He doesn’t even circle once. He walks straight to Xepher, who greets him in a way that makes it clear that they, too, know each other. What was it he said to Seniia the day we arrived? That he was the same as her? No, that he held the same rank as her. I chew on my lip. Was he raised at a temple too? I’ll have to remember to ask him. Not that it means I’ll get an answer out of him.
Pausing my sketch, I take in the male now walking around the circle. He must have walked at least seven rounds by now. He is as handsome as any Rean male—tall, athletic,lethal, with waves of golden hair falling toward his broad shoulders—but he has noticeably fewer glyphs than the others, perhaps seven or eight at the most. The keeper clears his throat, and the shoulders of the male trailing the circle stiffen. After another half circle, he steps next to Cyra.
“Would you have liked to join them?”
I snap my sketchbook shut and spin around at the sound of his all-too-familiar voice, the same voice that echoes in my dreams night after night. What is he doing here? His hand sweeps through the inky-blue waves of his hair, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. His full,sensual, impossibly perfect lips. The very same ones I watch kissing Nana night after night.
Pull yourself together, Laïna.I don’t know what’s come over me recently, but I do know I dislike the loss of control it induces. His upper lip curls back as he runs his tongue across his fangs, and a vivid image sweeps through my mind: Him fisting her hair and pulling her head back. Him biting down on her neck, drinking deep. Him pounding in and out of her until he loses any resemblance of the neatly executed control he radiates right now.
Breathing deep, I do my best to calm myself, but instead, I inhale his scent and... Pine. Earth.Home. Primal needs push their way forward, and before I can prevent it, my body has taken on a life of its own. A delicious flutter erupts low in my stomach, quickly escalating into a wildfire of sensation. My breath hitches as his nostrils flare, and his sharp gaze locks with mine. He lifts a single eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. There is no way... Is there? Because if I didn’t know any better, I would think he was sensing my response to him.
Leaning back against the white heartstone wall, he crosses his arms over his chest, then drags his gaze away from me, fixing it on the seekers below. “You haven’t answered my question.”
My mouth is dry as dust, tongue clinging to my palate. I swallow, but it does nothing to ease the tightness in my throat. When I speak, the words feel distant, as if someone else is saying them.So much for composure.
“I don't know.” I manage a shrug. “It would have been nice, I guess.” I don’t particularly care for the magic, but to belong somewhere... I sigh.
There’s a flash of something in his eyes. Empathy? Understanding? No. He’s Rean. There’s no way he can know what I feel.
I turn my attention back to the circle. Their ceremony is coming to an end. Now dressed in midnight robes, the Accepted are handed the same small leather purses the C’elen carry at their waists.
My eyes flicker to Aster’s waist. “How come you don’t carry a pouch?” It slips out before I can stop the question from escaping my lips. I don’t really want to interact with him, do I?
He tilts his head. “What makes you think I’m one of them?” He sounds genuinely curious.
“I don’t know. That you disappear into thin air in the middle of conversations, for one.” And the sheer aura of power that surrounds him. It vibrates, humming against my skin.
He laughs then, and may the gods have mercy on me, because the sound of it—vibrant, melodious—pierces straight to my heart, filling its many cracks and empty spaces. It’s like the touch of a sunbeam in a dark long-lost cave. Warmth spreads through the emptiness within, and gods help me if it does not feel like salvation.
Forcing my attention back to the courtyard, I see Seniia as she removes her blindfold and steps forward. Pressing her palms to the ashina’s, she unwaveringly holds her ice-blue gaze as she lays down her oaths.
“I swear to tell no lies and to seek the truth above all else. I swear to take no lives unprovoked and understand that to kill is only a last resort, to protect my own life or that of another who cannot protect themselves. Last but not least, I swear that I will strive to use my powers for the good of all and to fight against the Void. I understand that to break my oaths is punishable by the loss of my powers and, in the worst case, death.”
I shoot him a sideways glance. “The C’elen cannot lie?”
“No. Not unless they break their oaths.”
Does that mean that Llyr told me the truth, then? It has to. Did he really not know how Master Coperie was treating me? I find that hard to believe.
“Llyr . . .” I begin.
“Was telling the truth.”
My body stiffens.
“The gods often demand difficult choices,” Aster says, but there’s a bitter edge to his words. “That doesn’t make the consequences less painful or excuse his ignorance, of course.” A frown creases his brow, betraying his displeasure.
I frown. “What does—”
He cuts me off by gesturing toward the seekers, who are wrapping up their ceremony. “You should watch. It’s why you came.”
Despite the millions of questions on the tip of my tongue, I do as he suggests. The last one of the group steps back into the circle after giving his oaths. The keeper strikes his scepter into the heartstone five times, the sound ringing through the courtyard, and then there’s a moment of silence, where the ashina stands with her eyes closed, waiting.
