“You’re here.”
Asherah hadn’t spoken in so long, her vocal cords hurt.
Hurt? I feel something of a sort.
The male’s nostrils flared as he stared at her. Two other males, just as big but with pale hair, slid past her and stopped.
One spoke. “Kieran, what are you doing? What are you looking at?”
Kieran.
Asherah looked over her shoulder at the male with red starbursts in his irises. Even his armor was the color of blood. Warrior. A growl from her Fate brough her focus back to the front. The others couldn’t see her. She’d only been able to reach out to her Fate, it seemed.
Kieran took one menacing step forward, his eyes hard on his companion.
“Foraltin, they cannot see me,” she whispered.
Kieran swung his attention back to her. “You … Who are you?”
“Show me what I want to see!”
As much as she wanted to stay, to know this male, she had to go where she was led. Her soul cried out, even as she looked back over her shoulder. Asherah didn’t want to return. She wanted to be free. To finally know peace and happiness. He was close.
So close.
He stepped forward, and her heart jerked in her chest when his arm passed through her. He couldn’t touch her.
Dream of him, Asherah. Dream.
Yes, she would dream of him.
You shall see. This is not the last you will see of him.
She prayed it wouldn’t be. A wayward tug on her body pulled her back. She’d been gone too long. The travel just to get to him had eaten up the time they could share. But she’d come again. As many times as she needed to.
He was her Fate.
Whatever she could have of him, she would.
“I must return, but I shall come back to you forthwith.”
Before she could say anything else, to entreat him to try to come steadily closer, she was yanked back.
But at least I know I am not alone.
Chapter Four
“Why is my daughter twirling her little fingers, and why are stones floating above her bed?”
Zoey tended to be a bundle of rainbows and butterflies, she could admit that, but the stuff going on around her daughter was nothing to joke about.
Maybe. But the Neo thing is pretty cool.
Isadora was just … different. She was growing lightning fast, and Zoey sometimes worried she’d miss some major step.
Zahara swung her dreads over her shoulder and tied them at the base of her head to keep them out of her face before she tossed bones on the ground. The varied pieces of stark white meant nothing to Zoey, but Zahara studied them like they told the secrets of the world.
“I may ‘ave done somet’ing.”
