No one answers, which seems to be what he expects, and he gives a nod and finally turns his piercing gaze to me. I can’t explain the feeling that washes through me when his eyes connect with mine. It’s like I can feel his power, and it’s hard as fuck not to buckle under the weight of it. There’s a humming sensation that starts up just under my skin, and it’s as if his power is calling to the power that exists in me.
It’s not exactly a comfortable sensation. Our magics don’t feel like old friends that hug and pat each other too hard on the back and start reminiscing about the good times. His magical touch has an arrogance and vitality to it. Mine feels more like an ancient grumpy presence that’s pissed because someone just fucked with its nap. The Syta just stares at me, and I can’t help but feel suddenly vulnerable, as if his stare alone has stripped me bare. I get the distinct impression that he’s trying to hold on to something he’s taken from me. Something that he has no right to. I don’t exactly understand what all of this means, but the ancient feel rolling inside of me feels like it wants to flex.
I drop my chin slightly and stare at the Syta, determined to give him a lesson in not touching things that don’t belong to him. One of his eyebrows flicks up, intrigued, but the weird ass staring contest continues. The room is still, you could hear a pin drop, which is strange because I would think the waterfalls on the walls would make some kind of noise. I can see slight movement in my peripheral, but I don’t dare pull my attention from the aqua stare fixed on me.
Challenge accepted. I just hope it doesn’t get me killed.
3
“So it appears that what my brother and his soldiers have said is true,” the Syta starts, like he’s hoping his voice will snap me out of my fixed stare. “You are not marked, and I have no sway over you. They also tell me that you claim to not be from here, is that correct?” the Syta asks me, his eyes never blinking.
“Yes,” I answer, simply tilting my head to the side slightly.
His casual mention of having no sway over me makes goose bumps rise on my arm, and I don’t like the boulder of unease that now sits in the middle of my gut as I think about anyone else other than me havingswayover what I do or say.
“So how do you explain your presence before us now then?” he queries, his tone skeptical.
“I can’t explain how I’m here,” I answer. “All I know is that one minute I was in a clearing in the world where I’m from, and the next minute I’m waking up in a land I’ve never seen before...with abilities that I never knew I had.”
The male with the blue and purple eyes, sitting to the left of his brother the Syta, scoots forward in his seat. “What abilities?” he asks, naked interest in his tone and unusual eyes.
The Syta’s stare narrows slightly, and then they flick briefly in the direction of his brother. I get the impression that he doesn’t like that he was just interrupted, but I’m too focused on the fact that I just won an epic staring contest to pay much attention to the undertones of sibling rivalry. I turn my attention to the familiar little brother, and then a bitch-slap of recognition finally hits me.
He’s the soldier I attacked. He’s the one who called me flower.
“You look very different from the last time I saw you,” I state, the comment half question and half exclamation.
“It wouldn’t serve for the Avowed Altern to be roaming around enemy territory without a good disguise, now would it?” he tells me, a sly half-smile turning up the corner of his mouth.
“Enemy territory?” I ask, feigning confusion.
I’m tempted to blink a lot and play with the hem of the tunic shirt I’m draped in. Maybe it will up thepoor medamsel thing I’m hoping they’re buying, but I think the growling might have fucked up my chances of really pulling it off.
“Yes, Falon Solei Umbra, it seems you’ve landed yourself in what’s about to be a war zone,” the Syta announces, leaning back in his soft moss covered throne.
Do not look at Ryn. Do not look at Ryn.
“A war zone?” I repeat as if I’m some dumb broken parrot and haven’t heard all of this before.
“Don’t worry yourself about it, there’s no doubt that we’ll be victorious,” the Syta declares arrogantly as he inspects his cuticles. “Back to the matter at hand, I believe my brother asked you a question.”
Confusion takes over my face, and I rewind the conversation, trying to recall what I was asked.
“You mentioned that you had abilities here that you didn’t know you had, I wanted to know what abilities?” the blue- and purple-eyed Altern of the Avowed reminds me.
“Oh right. Yeah, I thought I was a latent wolf shifter before I woke up here. It turns out that I’m neither latent or a wolf,” I explain. I feel like a broken record going through all of this again and have to remind myself that they haven’t heard it before, only the Hidden have.
I catch a subtle hand gesture from one of the scantily clad females to the right. Bingo. Looks like I know who the seer is now. I notice the gazes of several of the other seated shifters go from her back to me. I once again admonish myself not to look at Ryn just to see if everything is going according to plan.
“So you woke up here, and you’ve just been wandering around the Amaranthine Mountains ever since?” an elderly male asks me, his milky gaze soft.
“Yes, I’ve been trying to find my way home ever since.”
I look as the female’s hand goes from a fist to flat, and just like that, everyone in the room slightly relaxes. They believe me.
“Well, Falon, I don’t know what act of fate brought you here, but now that you are, the Avowed claim you. You will now be one of us and enjoy all the protections and advantages that come with the Vow. I am Lazza, the Syta of the land and all of its inhabitants. My brother, Treno, who you’ve already met, serves as my Second and the rightful Altern. My Third and Fourth are Commander Ryn and Commander Voss.”
Ryn nods at his introduction as does another female on the right, who I wouldn’t have suspected as being a leader of any kind.
