As they sat, the feast began, glasses topped up and serveware packed with a spread of deliciousness.
Platters of lamb seared to a perfect char, with roasted garlic and sprigs of bruised rosemary, sat beside vibrant salads tossed with citrus zest and jeweled pomegranate seeds.
It was all served alongside crusty, hearth-baked bread still warm enough to melt the herb-infused butter.
In time, Idan relaxed, the food, the obvious love, and the warmth of Sheba’s menagerie grounding him and taking his edge off.
With Sheba at his side, he ate and savored the meal as he studied the Riders.
He noted the all the couples’ intimacies, their casual touches, the way they leaned into one another without thought or pretension.
The laughter, teasing, the closeness, and affinity from doing life together were all evidence of the healthy connections between all of them.
He exhaled, concluding they were exactly the sort of tribe he had long dreamed of being a part of, deep down in the depths of his heart.
Settling a muscled arm around Sheba’s shoulders, he tucked her into the hollow of his chest.
He breathed in the floral scent of her hair, his thumb stroking the soft skin of her upper arm.
For the first time in an epoch defined by blood, betrayal, and hiding in the shadows, he was home with kin and family.
The feast ended with a tray of honey-soaked pastries and dark chocolate, served with rich, creamykahawa.
Without warning, a violent psionic tremor fractured the atmosphere.
At first, only Idan sensed the psychic plane and dimension around them shift into a new verisimilitude.
One where the sky didn’t just darken; it shattered.
High above the glittering terrace, the twin celestial bodies stalled in their orbits, their pearlescent glow curdling into a bruised, static violet.
Silence descended, absolute and suffocating.
A chilling stasis gripped the table.
Kainan froze, suspended mid-laugh, a crystal glass hovering inches from his lips, while the rest of the Riders and their partners followed suit.
However, three people appeared unaffected by the time-space rift.
Idan knifed up in his seat, as did Molan and Zane, who retained control of their limbs.
‘Thefokk?’ Molan growled.
‘It’s a psionic incursion,’ came the dry rasp from Zane. ‘It freezes reality around us, and pulls those who can parse it into an overlaid vision, so brace -.’
With no warning, Zane’s spine snapped taut, his skull jerking backward as if snagged by an invisible hook.
He rose to his feet and rounded the table as a guttural roar tore from his throat.
His head tilted to the sky as his pupils vanished behind a shroud of incandescent blue fire.
The light in his eyes projected outward in a forceful psionic flare, focused to a point above the swimming pool.
The air rippled, and the water heaved, as an illuminance rose from it until the towering projection of Sulfiqar came into focus.
The entity did not speak; instead, a psychic resonance vibrated through Idan’s neural cortex.
Three months, my sons, that is the time I’m giving you,the words echoed, cold and final.Pledge your fealty to my conquest, or I shall flay the divinity from your veins. I will leave you mortal, fragile, and weeping in the dust of this world. Even as I sacrifice the blood of civilizations and of all those seated with you at that table, and their children, and their children’s children.
