“I’ll send Rubi for Elyssara,” Therion shouts to me as I make my way to my room.
My room still smells of her—vanilla and sandalwood are etched into my blankets and pillows, hanging in the air like even her scent knows she belongs here, with me.
I lay her down gently, brushing loose auburn strands from her face. Her breathing is shallow, increasing in pace and intensity. She’s dreaming. Or perhaps, she’s reliving the visions. Her movements mirror her actions in The Grove. I gently shake her shoulders. “Elyssara,” I breathe.
A small whimper escapes her, brows furrowing in distress, “Elyssara, wake up!”
I gently tap her cheek, becoming more urgent, “El! You need to wake up!”
Her eyes spring open, and she gasps for air, pressing into her elbows to sit bolt upright. Sweat beads on her brow, breath rushing in and out of her.
I pull her into my chest, holding her, “It’s okay,” I assure her. “You’re safe. I’m here.”
Her breathing begins to calm, the tension in her muscles slowly dissolving under my touch.
She looks up at me with wide green eyes, thick with relief yet edged with something else. Something conflicting.
“He’s your uncle,” her words come out like a whisper as she averts her gaze.
I know exactly who she means without further explanation.
I let out a shaky breath. “Yes,” I allow, though the word tastes like ash. “In name only.” I pause for a heartbeat, gathering myself. “He stopped being my uncle the day he betrayed my father.”
She stills, lifting her gaze to mine again, and looks at me knowingly—the visions have already told her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice breaks on the last word.
Because I didn’t want you to think I was like him.
“Because it doesn’t change anything. He’s bled our lands dry. Forsaken our people. Taken my throne. Imprisoned my sister. It doesn’t matter who he is,” I say, my voice low and brutal. “He dies.”
Her penetrating stare bores into me, and then she nods, “He dies.” She opens her mouth to speak, but words don’t come. She hesitates, snapping it shut again. I can feel her apprehension through the tether, but I give her time to consider her words. She looks at me intensely and finally says, “You’re nothing like him, Kael.”She says it like a truth, not just a comfort.
“He’s my kin,” is all I can offer, because although I fucking hate the wicked, cruel man, our blood is the same no matter how much I wish it weren’t.
“No matter your blood or the sky you were born under, we all have a choice in who we become,” she says with conviction. “Kael,” she turns her entire body to me, giving me her full attention and physical presence, “youare a good man.”
I can see that she believes it. Believes that I’m a good man.
But she hasn’t seen what I’ll do yet. Who I’ll become to end this.
“Careful, El. You almost sound like you believe you have a choice in all this,” I force a smirk, chasing away the dark.
She huffs a laugh, a genuine smile taking over her face. It soon dissipates as she’s reminded of all that’s happened.
“I’ve done bad things, Duskae,” I say with a shake of my head.
Her eyes meet mine. “For good reasons, Kael,” she says with genuine warmth.
“We both have,” I agree.
She nods, and I hope she’s starting to forgive herself for all that’s come to pass in her life.
She swallows thickly, pausing thoughtfully as if weighing her words carefully. Finally, she speaks, “Do you know that he keeps Morrathys entombed in The Temple of Endings? That he’s bound Morrathys to himself?”
Surprise ripples through me. “Morrathys is here in the physical plane?” I know that Morrathys is leashed to Maldrak somehow, but entombed?That’s definitely new information.
She nods. “Maldrak’s entire army is leashed with some mark on their necks as well. They’re almost... inhuman,” she says, disgust twisting her face.
