Needle-like pinpricks spread throughout Cassian’s chest. It was the opposite of what he wanted to hear. He needed Finnian to be stubborn and refuse to let things end this way. He needed Finnian to tell him there was another way to beat her. To hell with Ruelle and Fate.
“What are you saying?” It took everything in Cassian to keep his voice above a whisper. Finnian’s impairment was always in the back of his mind that way.
Finnian faced him, pain cracking over his stone-set expression. “I am saying in the next century, you will carry through with your plan. You will curse Naia twice. I will remain here and set my sights on the Himura clan and draw Ronin to Hollow City. I will antagonize him. Make him hate me. In return, he will grow into a strong mage and attempt to overpower my rule in the city. When the time comes for Naia to hand over her child to you, she will offer herself in exchange and break her own curse. I know my sister. I will steal some of my nephew’s bloodthen and trade places with her. Hollow City will belong to her. Ronin will already have a place here. Their child will grow up safe. I will ensure it.”
The note of dread in his words accelerated Cassian’s heart. “And what ofusduring the next century and a half?”
Finnian went to the bookshelf at the back wall and waved his hand in the air. The structure of the books in the center melted away and a metal vault attached to the brick appeared.
He twisted open the handle and pulled out a vial filled with glittering cherry liquid. “I made this potion from one of the pomegranates in your orchard.”
The hysterical beat of Cassian’s blood surged up his neck and his head went light. “You assumed this would happen?”
“I asked myself: what would be the worst Ruelle could do to someone like you? We’ve been with each other for five years, and in that span, she hasn’t done a thing. If I were her, I would want you to grow attached just to rip it all away.” He paused, eyes locked with Cassian’s. “She will not touch our threads of Fate, because we will let go of each other before she can.”
And if one of them did not care for the other, their threads would unravel on their own. Leaving Ruelle powerless to interfere.
“No,” Cassian said with brutal finality, eyeing the potion in his grasp. Despite the twinge in his gut that agreed it was the right thing to do. “Absolutely not.”
Finnian glared at him. “I refuse to let her touch our threads, have that power over us. If we cannot beat her until Naia’s child is born, we have no other choice.”
“No,” Cassian said again, this time harder. “Whatever the potion does—no. We’ll find another way.”
He knew what it would do, how precious one’s memories were of those they cherished. He’d witnessed it time and time again. Souls pleading and crying for permission to eat from thefruit. Their memories of loved ones too heavy on their souls. Wandering in the Grove of Mourning was a process that would eventually soak up the pain, but forgetting was easier than sitting in the hollow shell of time, at its mercy, while waiting for the throes of love to separate from the memories of those they left behind.
Finnian started towards him. “It removes my memories of us. If I do not care for you, Ruelle loses all leverage, and you have time to execute your plan.”
Crippling dread shook in his legs. “No.”
He hated the thought of Finnian scouring his orchard late in the night, wracking his mind on ways to fight back in a battle that was never his to begin with. Remorse flooded Cassian for never telling Finnian the truth.
“When I trade places with Naia, you will have the blood of a Himura demigod, and you can use it to kill Ruelle. The pomegranate is directly linked to you and your divine power. When the time comes for me to regain my memories, you must make me drink from your blood.”
“No!” Cassian shouted, bothered by how calmly Finnian spoke, how quickly his plan was forming. It was becoming too real, too overwhelming for Cassian to process.
Finnian reached out and cupped his cheek. A weak smile slid over his mouth as he pulled Cassian in, fusing their foreheads together. “We must do this, Cassius.”
Cassian squeezed his eyes shut, inhaling a deep breath to steady himself. “You are much stronger than I am. Let me drink it.”
“You know that will not work. The orchard sprouted from your divine power.” Finnian’s fingertips hooked along his jawbone and buried their noses against each other’s cheeks. “You promised me forever.”
His vision blurred to the moisture collecting in his eyes. He ground his teeth, his hands enveloping the sides of Finnian’s neck. “And if your memories fail to return?”
“Then you must find a way to help me remember us.”
Cassian’s chest caved in. “Finnian.” His voice crumbled.
Finnian held onto him tighter. “Once I drink this, every memory I have of us will be altered. There will be no warmth, no hesitation for you. You will be the High God who has attempted to curse me relentlessly, and I will feel nothing for you but hatred.”
Cassian pulled away, tears soaking down his cheeks, shaking his head. “I—I cannot do this.” He bent over and hung his head, hands coming up to squeeze his nape.
Finnian disappeared and reappeared with another vial. “I will embed my desires in the potion through a spell, so everything goes according to plan, but just in case, here. This is a binding potion.”
He shoved it in the front pocket of Cassian’s trousers.
“Ifsomething goes wrong, by chance, and I don’t regain my memories, you must force me to take it. It will keep me bound to you. I know myself. I will find a way to break out of Moros and go after my father to free him and escape. You cannot allow me to do something the Council will demand my punishment on.”
Such punishment that would be catastrophic and forced by the Council’s hand that Cassian would not be able to sway.
