Orïon is one of them. If he were in my place, leading our kind, most of us would be dead by now. That’s not speculation, it’s fact. And it’s why I’d never let him join us in the battle ahead, let alone lead.
Before Gregor arrived, he was tasked with scouting the nearby villages. Instead of returning with his patrolling brothers, as commanded, he struck out on his own. It took three warriors to drag him back to Ávera. Orïon has always been a loner, has always believed he can do everything by himself.
I’ve had my eyes on him for a few days now, since the farewell. Some of my warriors have been keeping me updated. Orïon wants to do good, there’s no doubting his intent, but his recklessness and foolish pride could destroy everything we’ve built. And I can’t let that happen.
“Tonight, tell Gregor he can join the ritual from afar. My mate invites him,” I say as I walk back to my bratya.
It is time to make myself even more handsome for my mate tonight.
52
A CUP OF BITTER CHOICE
“One day, you will walk alone into the dark, and you will think you are lost. But you won’t be. The stars will light a path only you can see, and when you follow it, you will find arms waiting to carry you home.”
—Eyleen Ársa to Noël, brushing her hair before bed
Noël
“This is for protection,” Elder Aïna says as she slips a small trinket into my pocket.
I offer a quiet thank you as she does and ask, “Protection from what?”
“Under a full moon, ethereal beings are very sensitive,” she explains. “And tonight, as you fully awaken, you will enter a state between human and spirit.” She takes my hands in hers as Mina tugs at my hair, braiding it tightly.
My scalp burns, but I say nothing.
“Although,” Elder Aïna continues, “you have already been in that state for some time now.”
I nod, then wince when Naïa steadies my head so I won’t move. “Yes,” I reply. “I’ve felt more sensitive... to everything around me.”
“You see brighter colors?” Essin asks, leaning in.
“Y-es.” I flinch as Mina pulls even tighter. Does it really need to be this tight?
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Mina says. “But the braid must hold perfectly for tonight!”
“Tonight, you’ll seal the deal!” Essin grins. “Theron’s seed must take root within your belly. That’s the final part of the union!”
I glance at Elder Aïna, seeking reassurance, and she nods.
My chest tightens. I rise from the cushion as soon as Mina finishes the braid. My heart aches. Physicallyaches.
“What’s wrong?” Naïa’s worried eyes search mine.
“Are you having doubts?” Essin adds, her tone softening.
I shake my head. No, I’m not having doubts. I... want to be a mother, to raise a daughter surrounded by love and freedom. I picture her running through open fields, as carefree as a petal carried on the wind. But I know that dream isn’t possible. Not now.
A beautiful nýmphá with red-brown hair approaches, carrying a cup in her small hands.
“Mates who didn’t want more children would drink this,” Elder Aïna says. “It prevents the seed from taking root.”
The room falls silent.
War is coming. Tomorrow, we’ll be on the move.
I can’t bear a child now. I can’t bring a new life into such a cruel, uncertain world.
