No, I wanted to watch Iaothsuffer.
She moved toward me, then stopped herself. Our staredown continued, tension rising like the heat of the day. But I didn’t blink, didn’t dare shift in my seat. If this was to be a battle of wills, I intended on winning.
“Peace, indeed. Where our realm is whole and stretches from sea to sea,” she bit out.
Something inside me fractured. Howdareshe twist my words for her own designs. Energy crackled between my fingers, Iaoth’s attention momentarily flicking there. But she continued her pointedattack anyway.
“And your visions can ensure that comes to pass. I expect great things from you today, Sylaira. I’ll be by to check on you, to ensure you haveeverythingyou need to See.”
With that, she finally broke away, snapping her fingers at the attendants. All light disappeared like the maw of a leviathan snapping shut. Only the flickering of embers burning beneath herbs appeared in the void. I banished my leaking magic, teeth gritted in an attempt to rein in my emotions.
Lyriasthe shifted, the sound of ruffling palms reaching my ears a moment before a light breeze.
Surrendering my grip on the crystal chair, I flexed my fingers, working the ache out of them. And then, I sat back, crossing my legs in the wide seat. My knee made no protest—a small blessing that spoke to how hard I’d worked at healing it.
The darkness was disorienting. Perhaps it was meant to encourage us to shut out all distractions and focus our power. But for me, it kept me on edge. My senses were attuned to the subtle shifts in the air, the steps others took in the space.
Wherever the fuck Iaoth was. Her presence alone was enough to keep the hairs on the back of my neck aloft, and as she swept by a second time, I intuited exactly how she made my body react physically to her proximity. The slightest hitch in my breath. The tension in my shoulders.
She would not surprise me today.
A tendril of awareness brushed against my mind.
“Everything okay?”Vaeron hummed, but an undercurrent of concern remained.
“So far,”I told him, allowing him to dive into the depths of my anxiety.
He said nothing, nor did he retreat. And I found that I didn’t want him to. His presence was a comfort. Steady. Undeniable.
Something I’d never thought was possible. Yet he’d proven that he would protect me, even at great risk to himself.
Deep down, that was all I’d ever wanted from my mate. Even if that safeguard had previously been from him.
He wasn’t the biggest monster in the Angel Realm.
Some time later, a baritone voice dragged me from my meditative state.
“Still nothing?” he said. My stomach lurched at the tone—low, commanding, familiar.
Koron Stadiel.
“Not yet. It’s been hours,” Iaoth whispered back.
I stiffened. Lyriasthe found my arm and squeezed. With the barest bit of strength, she guided me closer so she could speak in my ear. “No one has Seen anything. It is unusual.”
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed as I drifted. I’d gotten better over the weeks about tuning out everyone else, about blocking out reminders of my own trauma cursed by Sight.
“When did he arrive?” I asked.
“A few minutes ago,” Lyriasthe murmured, then retreated.
Light trickled across the stone ceiling. Blinking, my eyes refocused, finding the Koron and Korona in the center of the space—the same spot where Heraphia had shared power with her—both adding magic to illuminate us. And beside them was the High Priestess.
Other Seers stirred too.
Males streamed through a beaded entry, pausing at the head of the rows as if they were waiting for their monarch’s command. I recognized one with cerulean irises from an Elessarum safe haven we’d passed through shortly after the raid that killed my parents. He didn’t glance at me, merely kept his weary gaze fixed on the Korona.
None of them looked any better than the female Seers.
