She scrunched her face.
He was serious, but still, her adorable reaction made him smile, chasing away his rage. She gave him that, the calm he desperately craved after moments like these.
The ground stopped vibrating, and the Auras slithered closer to her. It shimmered from its massive size to a smaller form, still several feet long. Its flat head rose from the ground to her eye level.
Leya lifted a hand and stroked its glistening scales. The snake’s iridescent eyes glowed gold, and it brushed its head against her biceps. Its forked tongue flickered over her wrist then it faded and vanished.
* * *
Breathing hard, Leya stood in the shelter of Aerén’s arms as the wind bashed at them, unable to believe the rebel after her was finally dead, killed by a ghostly creature who came to her rescue again.
“Thank you,” she whispered, and the circular scar on her wrist throbbed.
No ghossssts…myssssstical…created by the godssss.
What? She rubbed her wrist,the words an eerie hiss in her mind.
Missstake…discarded.
The burn on her skin spread to her elbow. Leya pushed back her sleeve and blinked as the light scarring glimmered like scales, settling into a white tattoo of a snake from her wrist to her elbow. She gaped.
“What is it,me’morae?” Aerén asked, glancing at her.
“Look!” She lifted her arm. “It’s the Auras’ sigil, I think. I thanked it for helping us, and this happened.”
“There’s a legend,” Aerén said then, “about a massive serpent created from the stars and the essence of the Ouroboros that was larger than this realm, and it roamed Empyrea long before we came to be. It is said it grew too huge and was destroyed. A god killed it, so it couldn’t be resurrected.”
“Yeah, obviously he failed,” Leya muttered, stroking the sigil.
“Its spirit lived on, it seemed, and connected with yours when you came here. It was there in the volcano, too, after you were hit—”
A furious crash boomed, like boulders colliding, and she glanced up at the overcast sky. Aerén’s grip tightened on her, dragging her attention to the sea. The island in the distance shuddered.
“What’s happening?” she asked, her gut twisting.
Aerén shook his head, his features harsh. “I have to go. Haroth will take you back.”
“Go where?” She grasped his arm.
“Akkeris Island, the one that’s vibrating.” He pressed a quick kiss to her mouth. “Haroth, take my mate back to the castle and keep her safe.” He dematerialized.
Her heart in her throat, Leya watched the boiling waters around the island, and she pressed a fist to her chest.
“The sire will be fine, my lady,” Haroth said from her side.
God, she hoped so. She’d seen firsthand what the damn sorcerer had done to him when they went to rescue his father.
* * *
Aerén reformed on the bluff on Akkeris Island, where a small forest of the sacred white Reans trees grew some distance away.
Daén stood a foot from the edge, near the meter-wide crack now running along the small, rounded cliff, his hands on his hips. His hair and clothes dripped water from his dive into the sea, and the scar on his tight, pale features stood out like the very lightning itself.
“The fissure runs through this bluff and the mainland,” his brother said. “Seems the bastard wants Akkeris destroyed, too, along with the sacred trees.”
Aerén’s jaw hardened. This was one of the larger islands with over a thousand homes. “Why not the enormous forest on Cidéra?”
“Too many guards? Who the hell knows,” his brother bit out. “It’s likely payback for rescuing ourpateri.”
