“Lyvia, what do you—” she began.
I lifted a hand, a familiar sensation washing over me. “What is that?” I murmured, scanning the wreckage in the room.
Nerissa stilled, before she asked, “What do you feel?”
“Lyvia,” Aeriden’s broken whisper floated from across the room.
I stepped through the wreckage. The faintest pulsing. Not a sound. A vibration of air pushing and pulling throughout the room.
“Lyvia,” Aeriden said again, his voice shaking, louder.
Push and pull. Push and pull. Here in this room. A Bellator Bone, hidden somewhere. I stepped over the large mirror that had shattered at Nerissa’s entrance.
Push and pull.
“Lyvia!” Aeriden screamed at me.
I looked up to find his face tightened with grief and rage. Those features that looked so much like my father’s.Hisfather’s.
Tears soaked his face, brightening the sapphire hue in his irises.
“Where’s Dad?”
Numbness crept over me as I held his stare. The blood drained from my face as I relived those damning moments in the Crystal Castle, those moments that haunted me day and night. The moments that eclipsed my soul in a shadow of darkness.
People filed into the room. Carina. Astraeus. Vulcan.
Push and pull. Push and pull. The feeling intensified, and my powers leaned forward.
“Dead,” I answered quietly, picking up the burning orange Bellator Bone from among the wreckage next to the king’s staff.
