My toes dig into the grass as I study the emerald leaves forming a thick canopy above me. The brilliant light of the suns shines through them, warming my skin.
Leaves rustle as squirrels leap across tree branches. Birds perform a lyrical symphony, their song one I’ve never heard before. The only thing that doesn’t seem natural is the way the edges of the grove shimmer, the light more purple than yellow.
Actually . . .
Now that I’ve noticed the peculiar light, it doesn’t seem contained to the edges. It’s everywhere. In the grass. The leaves. Even in the sunlight warming my skin.
Questions tumble from my lips. “Hello? Is anyone here? Where am I?”
I could’ve sworn I heard a voice earlier, but I can’t see anyone. It’s almost as if...
“This is a safe place.” The quiet words come from behind me, and I spin around, clutching at my dress.
And that’s... bizarre. I was definitely wearing a tunic and leggings earlier. I glance down, confirming that like my shoes, those garments are nowhere in sight. Instead, I’m in a sleeveless pale green dress, the fabric nearly white. It hugs my curves and is comfortable, but I can’t get over the color. It belongs to the Given, and I haven’t worn this shade since the day before my Giving Ceremony. My stomach churns at the unexpected and unwelcome reminder of my old life. I force my attention away from my dress to my hair, which is unbound, flowing freely around my shoulders.
The many questions I have dry up as I lock eyes with the woman in front of me. She’s the seer... or at least, I think she is.
The elderly woman is gone, replaced by a younger version who appears to be around my age. Her dress is the same style as mine, but the green is much darker. Her hair mimics the colors of the leaves as it falls in loose waves to her waist, and a wreath of vines rests on her head.
She is young and beautiful and full of life, and if it weren’t for the violet Mark pulsing steadily in the center of her neck, I’d never guess she was the same person.
“Evelyn?” I ask, although really, who else could it be? It’s not like there are many others walking around with glowing Marks, thanks to the way the king has systematically murdered the Given.
“I am she,” she says, inclining her head.
I’d like to ask how the seer magically shed decades of her life, but I’m not sure I’m ready to tackle the ramifications of her answer, so I don’t. Instead, I repeat my question from before, asking where we are.
“My Haven,” she says as if that explains everything.
I’m not sure if she is aware of this, but itdoesn’t. Rising suns, I’m so fucking confused. My brows slant, and I rub my hands in front of me. “Okay, but...”
Evelyn laughs, the sound light and airy. “Don’t worry. You’re suns-kissed, and I know they’ve kept things from you about your heritage, but I’ll clear it all up. We will take care of you and your Inherited. All Blessed can build their own Haven once they’re secure in their magic. It is a skill you will learn, although not for some time, if I’m right about the way you were raised.”
I frown. Those terms—BlessedandInherited—keep being thrown around, but I don’t entirely know what they mean. “My...”
“The Hunter,” Evelyn says smoothly. “As an Inherited, he cannot enter my Haven, but I assure you, he’s fine. When we return, he’ll be waiting for you.”
That doesn’t help clear things up at all. Even though I feel frustrated by the seer’s answers, something inside me must understand what she’s talking about because it feels like my insides were tangled before, but now they’re unfurling at her words.
I cling to the fact that she said Gabriel is fine. I flex my hand, and I swear I can feel his fingers twitch in response. As if he’s still with my body while my mind is here in the Haven.
Thinking about my mind and body being in two separate places is fucking weird, and my head starts to hurt. Who knows? Maybe this is nothing but a hallucination and Gabriel is still asleep. Honestly, considering the way my life has gone, I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case.
“You are not in danger here,” Evelyn reiterates. “I promise.”
And there’s something about the way she holds my gaze, the way she smiles, that tells me she’s speaking the truth.
I exhale. “Okay.”
She asks if I’m tired, and the question brings me pause. Ishouldbe, right? I could’ve sworn I was tired before this. After all, I barely slept while Gabriel was in his unaware state. But I’m feeling almost unnaturally energized.
“Not really . . .”
My voice trails off as Evelyn waves her hand. Her Mark pulses, and sparkling purple mist appears in front of us. A twist of her fingers, and the mist clears, revealing two wrought iron chairs and a small table. The furniture sinks into the grass, settling in as though it had always been there.
What kind of magic is this?
She smiles, gesturing to the seat. “Please, sit.”
