prologue
. . .
“This can’t be the only option.”
“You’re willing to take that risk?” Elex turns to me, and I see his rage. Rage, wearing away the man I fell in love with, erasing the kindness and leaving only sharp edges and a painful future.
“Aslendrix will protect us—them,” I offer.
“They will be a target, Aerith. They will be hunted down. In their minds, we,” he indicates between us, “are bad enough. We defied their wishes, their command. And this is our consequence, our burden.” He walks away, pacing back towards the treeline.
“I refuse to believe they would murder children. Children of Kirrasia.”
“Fifths!” he shouts, as if I can forget what we are.
“We don’t know that,” I defend, but hope and love skew my words and belief. A Fifth is a rare gift from Aslendrix. And there have never been children born of two Fifths. It would fundamentally alter the balance that Aslendrix and Kirrasia fight to keep every day.
Yet, knowing all of this, it didn’t stop us. I let my love rule over everything because to me, nothing could be more powerful than that.
And I was wrong.
“And we never will,” Elex snaps.
“Orion will help?—”
“Orion is only concerned with his own path to power. He was never with us.”
“And you trust the fate of our babies to Kalan?” My voice catches, rising and filling with the strength I feel to protect the only people in the world I love more than Elex.
“He is one of the last Shepherds. His nature is to protect. He’s with us.” He steps closer to me and slides his thumb over my cheek in an attempt to soothe my tears. He can’t.
Nobody can.
And the worst of it—deep down in my soul—I know he’s right.
We’ve all been taught about the rare gift Aslendrix has given us, and that sometimes her control wavers over the balance she delivers, and so it is up to us to stay true to her wishes and honour her gifts.
We all know how dangerous we can beindividually. The Orders and the Maker were very clear that they would not support our match, no matter what we said or how we felt.
We set this in motion and forced every step that’s led to this exact moment, as if designing our own fate from the first minute we laid eyes on each other—a cruel fate from where I stand right now.
I rub my forefinger over the gold ring placed upon it by the Maker, silently wishing this could all end peacefully, but all I can feel from Elex is his anger and the power brewing inside of him, strengthening. Now he’s set his mind on this path, there will beno changing it. He is stubborn to a fault. A quality I was attracted to, but now, it only serves to fuel his wrath.
He doesn’t know how to back down. Not for me. Not even for his babies.
The wind picks up, gusting and disturbing us, setting us both on alert.
We watch the inky darkness around us as Kalan emerges from the shadows. We’re in the very north of Kirrasia, past the Larimar Lake, driven away from The Court by the threat over us—our children. We’ve kept their identity a secret from The Chamber, but they know there is a child. My pregnancy was the final shift that sent this into motion.
Even the Maker couldn’t guide us, only offering cryptic and veiled words that could be turned and twisted the more you analysed them.
Tension is thick in the air, like the world around us knows what we’re about to discuss and is listening, or the trees might steal our secrets and hold them in their mystery.
The cloud covers us from Aslendrix’s view, cloaking us, and I see it as an ominous sign. One perhaps designed by the Goddess herself.
“Elex. Aerith,” Kalan greets us both, and I shift towards my husband, my hand hovering over his as I yearn to hold it in mine and steal comfort from it.
Elex has already spoken at length with Kalan. As much as I’m in denial about this path, I know Elex wouldn’t go into this blind.
