His tone flattening, Griffin says, “Details. Tell me everything.”
“Details don’t change the outcome.”
“Humor me.”
My heart lurches. The last time he said that, I told him evasive half-truths and made myself out to be someone I’m not. He probably thinks I’ll do that again. But I’ve changed, and I won’t.
Dread still rises like a riptide to drag me under. “Catalia Andromeda Eileithyia Fisa—no mistaking it’s about me,” I add dryly. “Harbinger of the end. Destroyer of realms. Origin magic takes Alpha blood. Kingdoms crumble with the fall of the scourge.”
Griffin studies me hard. “And you think that means what, exactly?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Is it?” he asks.
“Don’t make this harder than it already is.” I stand, starting to back away.
Griffin snags my wrist, stopping me, his grip tight but not hard enough to hurt. “You’re interpreting it wrong.”
“What are you talking about? I have Origin magic. It’s my heritage. I spill Alpha blood, my mother’s,the scourge—you even called her that yourself once—and therefore somehow destroy the world.”
Griffin’s mouth breaks into a slow smile.
I glare at him. “There’s nothing funny about this!”
Leaping up, he grabs me and swings me around.
“Griffin!” My heart swoops wildly.
“Cat. Cat.” Lowering me, he buries his face in my neck, inhaling deeply. “You’ve spent eight years imagining the worst, haven’t you?”
“Uh…” Of course I have. Who does he think I am?
“Magic and mayhem? Floods and earthquakes? Death and destruction?” he asks.
I nod. “Thunderbolts from Olympus, creatures running amok…”
Griffin lifts his head, his eyes dancing. “You have no idea of your own worth.”
I frown. “You really are delusional. You need help. Maybe your mother has some herbs.”
Griffin gives me a horrified look.
“Fine. No herbs.”
He squeezes my waist. “You need to stop with the pessimism. No more self-pity. You’re better than that.”
My jaw slides unhinged. That stung. “Then what doyouthink the prophecy is about?” I’ve always been terrible at riddles. Could I have gotten itthatwrong?
“The Gods have been watching over you for years. They’ve helped you, given you gifts, magic, advice. Saved you. Why would they go out of their way to keep you alive if you were nothing but a means of base destruction?”
“I don’t know! The Gods are weird. Maybe they’re sick of Thalyria and want to start over again.”
“Finally.” Griffin nods. “You’re getting it now.”
My eyes narrow. “Are you being sarcastic?”
He shakes his head. “I took Sinta. The Gods brought us together to take the rest of Thalyria. It’s just like we thought. We’re going to unify the realms.”
