Kael’s temper was legend. And Alarik had stoked it. Lit the fire.
What would he do if he discovered the truth?
What would he take from her?
“She’s not safe with him,” he muttered, hating the twist of emotion in his own voice.
Zairon shifted behind him but said nothing.
Alarik’s jaw clenched.
“She is the weapon we need. The last move on the board. If he breaks her, if he trys to bind her soul to himself before she even knows who she is, then we all lose.”
He turned away from the window and crossed the room in a single, graceful stride.
“I didn’t want to do this,” he said —half to himself. “I thought I could wait. Let the dream grow. Let her come to me willingly.”
The bond was changing. And Kael was unraveling faster than anticipated.
Alarik reached for his armor like a prophecy fulfilled.
“If I don’t act now,” he whispered, “I may never get the chance.”
Zairon finally spoke. “You’ll take her?”
Alarik didn’t look back.
“I’ll steal her from his bed if I must.”
His voice lowered, a cold, final note in it:
“Because if I don’t, Kael will destroy her — cast doubt on her magic, her potential — And with her end, any hope this cursed land has will go with her.”
-Kael-
Kael entered Calyrix’s great hall in a gale of shadow and blood-soaked power.
His release of power at the border had been brutal, cleansing in the way only carnage could be. His shadows were slow to settle, dragging behind him like a living storm. Rage still simmered in his marrow, his knuckles split open from too many kills. But the moment he crossed into the palace proper, something felt wrong.
He moved with a purpose directly to his chambers before his mind could name the fear unraveling in his spine and there she was.
Collapsed in the center of the floor, cradled in Valea’s arms, her body trembling like a struck chord.
Maris’s skin glistened faintly, kissed by starlight that no hearth could explain. Her breath was shallow, her gown rumpled, her eyes wide with a terror that was ancient, wordless, glowing brightly.
Kael was across the room in a heartbeat.
“What happened?” His voice came out as a growl, dark with panic.
Valea didn’t flinch. “A dream.”
Kael froze. “A male?”
“No,” Valea whispered.
She looked up at him with something near reverence in her hardened eyes.
“She saw her, the goddess Eiren.”
