The guards tense, but the High Lord waves them off. “I prefer candor,” he says. He nods to me. “You are in the presence of your fellow human. I know you have contacted her. She is safe, as you see, with her mate. I did not have to satisfy your demands, but I have chosen to indulge you. But I will give you the same warning I have given Sophia—further dishonesty toward the Council will be noted and punished. I cannot harm you, but the next 1,000 years could be made to feel very long.”
Sophia’s eyes are locked on mine. I feel my head prickle and burn.
And then, clear as a spoken word, Sophia’s voice is in my head.
You okay?she asks, or means. I feel the thought, the urge to check for wounds, the quick scan of my body. The link is so raw and unfiltered it brings tears to my eyes. Her voice has never been clear like this before. Something is making it easier to talk.
I blink back tears.Yes,I think to her.
Good.She relaxes, just a fraction, then stands at parade rest. Bride or not, she’s still an ex-soldier of New Terra.
The High Lord leans back, eyes unnaturally bright. “Sophia has already described what she experienced in Reach’s End. But she has not been truthful regarding your mental communication.”
I hesitate, but between the High Lord’s warning and his strangely brightened eyes, I don’t want to push this too far. He’s got MayaandSophia now. “The Concord Stone made aconnection between us. I don’t know how. It just happened. It’s your technology. You’ll have to be the one to explain it to us.”
Especially since you can do it, too,I think.
He nods, makes a note on a tablet. “Communication between Starfallen has already disrupted order on Xytheos. Did you reach anyone else?”
I shake my head, but even as I do, I feel the fourth presence in the circuit.
Faint, but there—Dana.
Not a voice, just the sense of four minds huddled in a deep shelter, embers all waiting for the same bomb to fall.
The High Lord’s mouth twitches. He’s sensing it, I’m sure of it. “Describe the sensation,” he says.
I try to recall it without emotion, but that’s not how this works. The memories of Sophia’s fear and pain are racing through my mind. I shake my head, feeling like the High Lord is watching the memories with me. “I can’t describe it.” I choke on the words as my voice breaks. I blink, trying to stop tears from forming. I don’t want to cry in front of anyone.
Sophia still looks confident and strong, and here I am, falling apart thinking about what she went through.
He frowns. My answers haven’t pleased him. “And you, Sophia?”
She lifts her chin defiantly. “It’s the same as Elena. The Concord Stone gave it to me as a gift. And you said it doesn’t makemistakes.”
The High Lord drums his fingers on the armrest of his chair. “Sophia has made it clear to me she regards her pairing with Vorak to have been a mistake. But the Stone does not make mistakes in pairings.” His gaze fixes upon me, piercing and intense.
“Then why is this happening?” I ask.
He looks away, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair. “Your Claiming Ceremony was unprecedented. Never have we had so many Starfallen, and never has the Stone summoned biome lords as mates. Perhaps the Stone had to take extreme measures to deal with your primitive physiology. Regardless, you and the other Starfallen must not use this connection to one another. You must have only the bond to your mate. No other,” the High Lord says dismissively.
The High Lord doesn't even register any of his comments as insulting. To him, our inferiority is just a fact. I glance at Sophia, but she’s staring straight ahead. I know Sophia won’t stop fighting.
“The Stone is all or nothing,” I say. “And when I reject one bond, the other goes. I can’t control it.”
The High Lord frowns at me. “You will learn,” he says coldly.
Rythar reacts fast to this perceived threat, pulling me behind him in one swift move. He has spent enough time with me to know that I can’t obey this order. And that I wouldn’t, even if I could.
“Whatever you did to your Starfallen bride,” Rythar warns, “you won’t get the same chance with mine.”
The High Lord freezes. They’re two rulers facing off. “You know as well as I do, Rythar Smythe, that we cannot allow this. Control your mate, or we will all face consequences,” the High Lord says.
Rythar’s arm is around me as I step to his side. “I don’t want war,” I say quickly. “I’ve seen enough of it.”
Sophia glares at the High Lord. “I agree. But I’ve also seen enough of it to know that a handful of women aren’t enough to start a war on their own. Whatever happens, it’s going to take more than a few chatty women to spark a war. I suggest you figure things out on your end,” Sophia says.
“Are you threatening me?” the High Lord asks.
