Nick wasn’t so sure about that. “And if my fate is to destroy the world?”
“Have you so little faith in yourself?”
He had a point.
Nick took the skull. It had an odd warmth to it. One that didn’t make a lot of sense. “Does Cyprian have to be born?” If he could stop that, it seemed like the easiest fix.
The zeitjäger hedged a bit. “Perhaps. But the real question is, does he have to hate you when he’s born?”
Nick hesitated as that opened up a whole realm he hadn’t even considered. His mind whirled with entirely new prospects. “You’re saying that I can save him?”
But that didn’t make sense. There could only be one Malachai.
Right?
“The future is never set, Ambrose. It changes with every decision we make. Until the day you die, it is ever in flux. Pith point, or not.”
And with that, he vanished.
Stunned, Nick turned to stare at Myone. His breath caught as two images went through his head simultaneously. One was of Xev with Myone. It was a tender embrace with him standing behind her, holding her close in the shadows of her ancient balcony. Both dressed in their battle armor. It was a stolen moment, and the expression on their faces seared him with the depth of how much they loved each other. With the fact that they both knew what they had couldn’t last and that if anyone found out, it would end them both.
Even so, they had forged a love that still haunted them. One that continued to burn inside Xev. Against all odds and all enemies.
Against all punishments.
Society be danged.
The second image was of the two of them on a battlefield, riddled with arrows and wounds. Both of them dying. Weeping, Myone had held Xev against her while he, weakened by blood loss, had tried to wipe the blood from her face.
Rather than allowing him to die at peace with his love, his enemies had seized him from her arms and dragged him away, even as the life had faded from her eyes. She’d been left to die alone on the battlefield.
Xev’s fate had been far crueler. They’d denied him the release of death, and enslaved and tortured him for all eternity.
Because he’d dared to fall in love.
Forced to live without her, and to serve the ones who’d caused her death. No chance to reunite in spirit with his love. No chance to help his son or to spare either of them from their own damnation.
Xev had been sold by his own father into an eternity of torture. A blood slave to the Malachai and to whatever demons the Malachai chose to feed him to.
In that moment, Nick felt even more horrible for the two of them. “I’m sorry, Myone.”
“For what?”
“For what was done to you and to Xev. And Jared.”
A sad smile curved her lips before she walked toward Nick. “It’s all right, Nicholas. We couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful great-grandson. I’m glad I got to meet you.” And with that, she kissed his cheek and vanished.
Nick couldn’t breathe as his own tears choked him. He’d never met his grandparents before. Never mind his great-grandparents. Therefore, he’d never dreamed of what his great-grandparents would be like.
To have finally met her …
His Malachai wings shot out of his back against his will. But instead of being their usual black color, they were as gold as Myone’s had been.
Confused, he stared at them, wishing someone was here to explain that to him.
What’s happening to me?
Why was he having these visions? Were they real?
