But he wouldn’t admit to liking him either.
“My father encouraged a war between you all to test your strengths and remove the weak bloodlines,” Sethios said. “He never admitted that to me out loud, but I know that was his intention. He’s been preparing for this battle with the Seraphim for millennia. He’s obsessed with it.”
“While I can understand the theory, he’s also instilled significant distrust throughout his supposed army.” Issac’s sapphire gaze blazed with intelligence. “The Hydraians will never stand side by side with the Ichorians who attempted to slaughter them. Just as the Ichorians have been bred to hate their offspring for being more powerful and immune to the blood-drinking requirements.”
“Give them a common enemy, and they might fight,” Caro said. “The Seraphim want to destroy all of them. It doesn’t matter if they’re Ichorians or Hydraians; to the council, they’re all abominations that need to be destroyed.”
“How do we fight an army that can’t die?” Astasiya asked. “Even if the Ichorians and Hydraians work together, it’ll be moot if the Seraphim will just survive.”
“I think that’s where you come in, love,” Issac murmured. “The prophecy.”
“An unknown power is surfacing. She will possess the strength and will to destroy us all unless certain measures are put in place to curb her inclinations.” Caro spoke the infamous words softly, reiterating them for all to hear. They’d never heard it from Skye’s mouth but had it repeated back to them from Gabriel years ago. The prophecy had been forever ingrained in their minds and hearts.
“The measures we put in place were to ensure you valued humanity. But that doesn’t mean the power inside you suffered. It just suggests you’ll use it appropriately.” Which, Sethios assumed, now meant she would direct her talents at the appropriate enemy, not the wrong one.
Of course, that required them to determine whom they were destined to fight—Osiris and his minions, or the Seraphim.
“You believe Astasiya has the power to destroy a Seraphim,” Issac said, his British accent more pronounced with the weight of that statement.
“Yes.” Sethios looked at his daughter. “You’re a descendant of the Seraphim of Resurrection, which means you can control and design life, as you already know. Caro descends from a line of messengers with healing and concealment abilities. We’re not sure how those markers have combined inside you, but the Fates ensured your creation for a reason.”
Caro nodded. “I’ve always believed the council sent me to Osiris with that edict because they knew I would meet Sethios and thereby bring you into existence. They just misunderstood your purpose.”
“This all works on the belief that the Fates are no longer aligned with the council,” Sethios added. “So it’s just a theory. But it’s a theory that feels right.”
“Yes,” Caro agreed. “It does.”
Astasiya blew out a breath, her body leaning heavily into Issac as he held her with ease. “This is a lot to take in.” Her voice held a touch of exhaustion in it.
None of them had slept much over the last however many days. All the traveling had really warped his sense of date and time, not that it mattered. They were on the brink of a supernatural war.
“If this happens, our existence will become known to the humans,” Issac said. “And with the CRF destroyed, new military agencies will be created to fill that void. Because it’s safe to assume that at least some government officials are already aware of us through Jonathan’s former contacts. Which means the mortals need to be factored into this equation. They’re volatile and have a penchant for acting preemptively.”
Approval radiated through the bond from Caro. I do like him, she mentally informed Sethios.
Yeah, yeah, he muttered back at her.
He felt her smile, but her lips didn’t actually move until she started speaking. “The Seraphim have always viewed humans as a glorified experiment. They descend from our family lines—that’s why those of you who have been reborn via Osiris’s influence have unique abilities. They all tie back to the Seraphim familial lines.”
Astasiya’s blonde brows rose. “So humans are descendants of angels?”
“Not exactly.” Caro fell into a contemplative silence for a moment before elaborating. “They evolved over millennia of natural cycles on Earth, but the Seraphim assisted in that evolution. I’m not sure of the full history, as that’s not my specialty; I also wasn’t alive then. But I know the ancients helped in some capacity via the bloodlines.”
“That’s not what I was taught in school,” Astasiya replied.
Caro blanched. “They teach about Seraphim in schools?” She looked at Sethios. “They know of our existence now?”
“I believe our daughter was being sarcastic,” Sethios replied.
Caro blinked. “Oh. Yes. Right.” She shook her head. “Sarcasm isn’t… my forte.”
Sethios kissed the side of her head and pulled her into a half hug. “Seraphim don’t understand humor.” Or pleasure, he added into her mind.
She elbowed him. I’ve grown into my emotions. Her mental voice held a lethal undertone to it.
You have, he agreed, his thoughts warm as he pondered all the emotions she’d exuded earlier. Do you still have Ezekiel’s knife?
You mean my knife? Yes. Yes, I do.
