CHAPTER ONE
Dalia
Stepping out of the cottage, I smile when I see both of my sisters hard at work in our gardens with the setting sun as their backdrop.
This is my favorite time of day—the passing of daytime into nighttime. Or the passing of night into day. I’m all about the times in between.
It’s usually the time I choose to work in the gardens, but not usually my sisters.
“Morrigan, Phoebe." I give each of them a nod as I pull on my gardening gloves and join them. “I’m surprised to see you out here, sisters.”
Morrigan hums, not looking up from the roses she’s pruning. Her red hair glistens in the remaining sunlight. “I was called out here, and if anyone knows better than to ignore such a feeling, it’s the three of us.”
“I’m just glad it was now and not during the day,” Phoebe says with a grin, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder.
All three of us have our preferred times of day. Morrigan during the day, and Phoebe during the night. It’s always been this way for us, and we’ve lived very long lives so far.
We’ve seen the rise of man, then the fall of man to the supernaturals.
It’s something we don’t allow in Iero, the city we founded forty-eight years ago, just two short years after the fall of humankind.
While humans still exist, they’re little more than slaves or food for the supernatural creatures who rule the world—something my sisters and I don’t agree with.
Hence, the founding of Iero, a safe place for humans and supernaturals alike. Somehow, we’ve managed to stay off the radar of those controlling the outside world for this long, but we all know it’s not something that will continue forever. Especially not with how rapidly we grow each year.
But there still aren’t enough of us to stage a rebellion—to force the changes necessary. To bring peace to both societies.
A heavy sigh escapes me as I lift my head away from the weeds I’m pulling, looking over the city spread out around us. I’m proud of what we’ve accomplished over the years, keeping the citizens of our city safe.
The feeling deep in my gut tells me our time is running out. Trouble is coming our way—I just don’t know when or how.
As moirai—better known as the Fates—the people of Iero look to us for answers, but we don’t control what we see or feel.
Life would be so much easier if we could, then maybe we would’ve seen the end of the world coming. Maybe I would’ve realized how evil Renwick was, saving myself a lot of pain.
No, I won’t think of him.
It’s been forty-eight years since I escaped him, and if I have any say in the matter, I’ll never see him again.
Once upon a time, we were able not only to see the strings of fate, but we could affect those strings. But that was in the past—when the gods were still among us.
We don’t know where they’ve gone, but it’s clear they’ve abandoned us.
Even as I look out on the island we took over for Iero, I know there’s no way for us to see the whole of the area. Once known as Hilton Head Island in South Carolina, my sisters and I seized it for the safe haven we wanted to build while the most powerful supernaturals in the US were fighting over lands and borders.
The island was too damaged from the war—too inconsequential of a piece of land for anyone to claim.
But we did, because we knew it was the perfect location to welcome those seeking sanctuary.
A forest of trees surrounds our home on two sides—a forest that has reclaimed the island over the years. But we made sure we could still see the city while guarding the only bridge onto the island.
We rebuilt the bridge because there was major damage caused by the war. Thank goodness for supernatural abilities, which made it a much easier process.
We’re not the only line of defense to the heart of Iero—not even the first line. We have a rotation of guards on each side of the bridge, and newcomers are escorted onto the island straight to me or one of my sisters. One of us is almost always at ourhome for just this reason. If we’re not, then the guards will radio us so we can return home.
We take as few chances as possible when it comes to taking people into our community. We never want to turn anyone away—we want to give everyone a safe place to lay their heads—but there have been some who haven’t had pure intentions, and we didn’t allow them to stay.
Some of them we could not allow to continue breathing.
