She didn’t understand why her mother bowed to such a king. Nyx was just as responsible for the entire realm’s existence as her brother.
Perhaps it was her father’s fault. It was laughable to think a power like Death would make one weak, though in the end, she knew it wasn’t power or life or death.
It was love.
Perhaps her marriage to Kronos was part-blessing, because she wouldneverlove her future husband.
As her tears dried, she vowed this would be the last time she wept in this field. It was childish and soft and?—
“You’re not invisible in this field, you know.”
She startled, looking up. A man towered over her, his face partly obscured by the sun. She scrambled to stand, but he crouched down to stop her, reaching out but not touching her. The thoughtfulness in that simple lack of contact struck her to her core. He could have assumed she wanted or needed to be touched by him, but instead, he thought to pause.
“Don’t. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”
Backlit, she still couldn’t quite see his face, but there was something off about his aura…
This man was no mere mortal. He couldn’t be. All magic had a presence, even amongst humankind, but he was not buzzing with it as most did, no.
He was aflame.
Chapter 4
Soren awoke with a jolt,lying frozen in bed for a few hazy moments before rising at the soft knock on the door of her and Mona’s quarters.
The dreams were worsening with each night.
When she was very young, she had once told her mother she was dreaming of the gods. She had only patted Soren on the cheek and assured her it was only natural for her imagination to wander to what was greater. But now, as the dreams grew more persistent and vivid, she began to wonder if itwassomething more. Perhaps a goddess from beyond the barrier dividing their worlds was somehow sending her visions?
It was a foolish thought, one she tamped down swiftly. If the dreams were becoming stronger, she just had to become better at ignoring it all when she woke.
When she opened the door a crack, a servant whispered, “Her Majesty the Queen requires your service, Soren.”
She held back an audible curse; she had completely forgotten about her summons earlier in the throne room. Ignoring the hot flare of unease, she forced herself to reply, “I will make my way to her now.”
She quickly donned slippers and a thin robe before hurrying through the halls, her practiced footfalls near-silent. When she reached the queen’s chambers, she knocked twice, tapping on the wood with her fingernails.
“Enter, Soren,” the queen murmured from the other side.
Soren obeyed, standing in front of the queen, who still lay in bed. She bowed low, strands of silver falling in her face.
“My queen, how may I assist you?”
The queen sighed. She was still wearing her mourning garb, even as she lay in bed. “Do not fret; it is not an errand. It will only take a moment.”
“Yes, my queen,” Soren said, her head still low. “How can I be of help?”
“Rise, Soren, and come. I am in need of your gift.”
Soren did so, approaching the queen carefully. On the bedside table sat two vials, identical in color and each in a silk cloth.
“Which one?” the queen asked, her voice soft but firm.
Soren’s lips parted in a rush of air, nodding and placing her fingers on the first vial. She felt nothing. But as she touched the other…
A tidal wave of darkness swept over her. Screams echoed in her mind, accompanied by distant wailing—the consequences of this substance might inflict.
“That one?” the queen pushed.
