Page 220 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

“Their soulmates,” Freya deadpanned, eyes flicking irritably to me. “Yes, we know August has a mate; thank you, Cyrus.”

“It goes beyond that. Because, according to the lore, King Calloway’s soul was split in two during the Great War by a first-hierarchy demon or the devil himself.”

“Right, but that—” Freya cut herself off, throat bobbing as her eyes snapped to me. A spark I hadn’t seen in months ignited, the hazel around her irises seeming to move with it. “You’re saying they’re not mates. They’re one being.”

“Twin flames,” Cali breathed reverently. “One soul ripped into two pieces, sent back, cursed to wander searching for their perfect other half.”

“Literally,” Carr breathed, horror in his eyes as they scoured over her murder board.

“There’s no way,” Orion said, shaking his head. “That’s not real. How would one soul become two people?”

“One powerful soul. Can you imagine that magic well shoved in one being?”

“No,” Freya exhaled, nearly spilling her coffee as she set it beside mine and whirled toward the board. I could practically hear the cogs grinding as she came to stand beside me. “Because in their hunt to get back to each other, they kept dying—usually brutally, according to August. Their reading kept failing because it was too hard to sit through that many terrible endings.”

“And every time they reincarnate, they gather new gifts,” Carr deduced, turning wary eyes on me. “The well deepens.”

“Right,” I breathed. “Factor in one or two cycles born to nephilim parents, and who knows how much power they gathered in those vessels.”

“They both wield every element,” Freya pointed out. “Not including their more unique gifts.”

“Right, but even in human mythology, twin flames are insanely rare,” Cali objected. “They think, feel, and experience life in mirror images. To be cleaved apart is to hemorrhage from a wound that cannot seal—literally halves of a whole.”

“August hasn’t exactly been… reachable, in her absence, has he?” Freya breathed halfheartedly as she started moving sticky notes and images on the board. “Reagan didn’t kill my calling on a whim, she did it on an order. Ally was already serving Aren—had been for centuries. She was the first one who responded to the Solskari extermination.”

“So she was gone,” I deduced. “She was in Scandinavia when he was ascending. Where was Alec?”

“With her—he and Fae are always with her.”

“And your parents?”

“The same. Which made me his closest living soul tie⁠—”

“And therefore, the best option for a sire.”

“But Reagan beat me there.”

“Right. And Adrastos needed him out of the picture⁠—”

“Not because of rank or power levels⁠—”

“But because if he ascended, he would reunite with Alvara, combining the two halves of The Great Commander.”

Her eyes went glossy, mouth parting. “But Mags wasn’t born yet—or was an infant. Nowhere near ascension.”

“So, he couldn’t assemble all of the prophecy pieces yet.”

Her awe transformed into a scowl as she started to pace. “But the only purpose of assembling the pieces would’ve been to stop the horsemen. To unify them behind The Great Commander.”

“Now led by the Angel of Death, with the backing of the longest-lived Commander in history.”

“Wait,” Cali interjected, appearing at my other side as Carr did the same beside Freya. “That implies Adrastos was lining out the pieces to…”

“Stop his siblings,” Freya whispered, like breathing the words aloud was too risky. “August said—he said the bastard told Ally that the humans would bow to a ruler, and at least they could be benevolent.”

“Do you think the fall of humanity was inevitable?”

“Yes,” a definitive voice cut in from the doorway. We all whipped toward my father as he ambled through the threshold, his skin still ashen. “The mortals were self-destructing. All great houses fall from within. Humans are no different. We didn’t know when, only that it was coming.”