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The air between us crackles. It presses against my skin like a storm about to break. He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, his jaw flexes, the tension in his throat making the scorch-like marks ripple. Somewhere in the distance, a slow rumble rolls through the sky.
“Harpaurai.”
The word hangs there, suspended like an echo that refuses to fade. An unspoken truth made solid, a myth brought to life. One that shifts the ground beneath me, though I will my feet to stay firm.
His gaze meets mine, unflinching. “And you’re one too.”
The stone pillars press in, the air carving its way into my lungs with every breath.
“You’re lying.”
Lyxander stands rigid, his wings folded close. “I’m not.”
“You are!” My voice cracks, the magic inside me pressing against every syllable. “You’ve been lying this whole time.”
I expect him to fight back, to let my anger ignite his, to meet fire with fire. But his voice is quiet when he speaks, and it cuts deeper than any shouted retort. “Your mother—”
“How do you know anything of my mother?”
“She was one of us.”
“That’s not possible. I think I would know if my mother had wings. All the Sorrows would have—” I snap my mouth shut, then pace in tight, restless circles, each step a weak attempt to subdue the storm rising within me.
For weeks, we’ve traveled together. Side by side, step by step. And yet, I hadn’t known this about him. The truth of what he is had been there all along, hidden in the way his own power seeped into him, in the fleeting flash of teeth too pointed to belong to an ordinary man. How had I missed it? How much more had I blinded myself to?
The weight of it all crashes down in a wave. It’s too much. It’s nowhere near enough. My grip on reality is as fragile as glass, and I can feel the fractures spreading.
“I could sense you. In Eretria. Even when I was locked away, I felt you there. Through the walls, through the darkness.” He exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “There were others, distant presences that came and went. But none of them got as close as you. There was this one time…it was as if you were standing beyond my cell. Just out of reach.
“It’s a trait we share. The ability to sense our own. When the Aviary’s people came for me, I thought I’d lost my chance for freedom. But then suddenly you were there with my new captors, and I didn’t know what to make of that. I knew who you were the moment I laid eyes on you. When you confirmed the dagger you carry was your mother’s, I pieced the rest together.”
“What do you mean?”
“You carry one of the Diarchy Blades.” Lyxander motions to my thigh. “They were made from Boreas’s feathers and have belonged to the rulers of the Harpaurai for centuries. There are only two in existence.”
I flinch, my hand moving to cover the hilt before I remember it’s not there.
“It’s just a dagger,” I say, though the conviction in my voice wavers. “It’s my mother’s dagger.”
“Exactly.” His eyes lock onto mine with unflinching focus. “Your mother, who wasn’t from the Sorrows. Your mother, who was one of our queens.”
“You don’t know anything about her.”
“I know Queen Nephelle fled our kind to protect you—that she carried a prophecy far heavier than any crown,” Lyxander presses, his voice raw, like each word costs him something. “As it turns out, her leaving only saw that prophecy come true.”
My heart wrenches at the mention of my mother’s name. “Prophecy? What are you talking about?”
“It called you Daughter of the—”
“Stop.” My blood turns to ice. I’ve been called that title before, by the captive creature Sphinx, during my time in Eretria. But she never answered when I asked her what it meant.
His words echo in my mind, looping over and over, and then others join the fray.
Spy. Thief. Princess. Songbird. Harpaurai.
Each a title. Each a burden. Each one etched into me like a scar—never chosen, only endured. I carried them all, letting the world inscribe my story in blood and ash. I smiled when commanded, kneeled when ordered. I became whatever others needed of me—never who I truly was.
And now he stands before me, speaking of prophecy? Another role. Another cage. Another chain masquerading as fate.
