PROLOGUE
Emerging from the wall of mist, Lana cradled the infant in her arms close to her chest. He let out a small whine of protest as she squeezed, and she pressed kisses to his temple while taking in her surroundings. Behind her, the mist opened once more to expel Blaire, her one-year-old propped on her hip. As the mist dissolved, the boy peered around him through a mop of reddish-brown curls, eyes wide at his first look of Viterra.
Lana had never set foot in this realm—the realm of mortals. The night closed in around them, lacking any semblance of the Light. Trees shot into the sky, their massive trunks only a portion of the size of the forests of Luxoria. Hoots and chirps filled the air, but no other sign of life made itself known. She stepped forward, bidding Blaire to wait. Fern leaves dragged across her thighs like fingers pulling her back. They beseeched her to stay even as she pressed on, peering about for the familiar face she knew would be waiting.
At the snick of a breaking branch, Lana spun, and the tightness in her chest released at the sight before her—a golden woman in a cream-white dress, gleaming in the moonlight despite the lack of magic in this world.
Elenya bowed to Lana, holding a baby of her own.
Lana’s eyes widened as she drew closer, her gaze stuck on the golden wisps of hair around the boy’s face. “The heir of Manae?” she whispered, shock threading through each word.
Elenya’s gaze dipped to her son. “Yes. Born just three months ago.”
Lana pushed the swaddle from her son’s head to show Elenya. “The heir of Sidera as well.”
Taking in the two babies, Elenya released a sad sigh. “I fear no place is safe for either of them.”
She swallowed. “But you claim we can hide them.”
Elenya’s face tightened. “Yes. There are remote places where neither Luxoria nor Indigo will find them. They can be raised away from it all.”
Lana took in the golden woman before her. “What of you? Your absence will not be tolerated.” As one of the Sovereigns of thelavanié, she was expected to lead her people.
Just like Kywyn, whispered a desperate voice in the back of Lana’s mind—the voice of her bond to this child’s father. A sharp pang pierced her heart as she thought of him.
She might never see him again…
Elenya pressed her lips together. “I must return to Luxoria. I have found someone to raise him in my stead.”
Lana’s jaw dropped, and she stepped closer. “Don’t say that, Elenya. You cannot leave him to strangers.”
“Xandra is not a stranger. She has promised to love and care for him.”
Torn, Lana gazed at the peaceful babe in Elenya’s arms. “Let me have him. I will raise them as brothers.”
“Brothers?” A powerful longing flashed in Elenya’s eyes, gone as soon as it appeared. “I cannot tell you how much I want that, but I have a plan. I cannot stray.”
Confused, Lana rocked her baby as he began to fuss, so antsy compared to the golden child in the other woman’s arms. “Then weshall stay close. They’ll grow to be friends. We can prevail over their destinies. I am sure of it.”
A measure of doubt crept over the golden woman’s face. “May the Great Mother will it so.” She spun and glided through the ferns as if floating. “This way.”
Lana motioned for Blaire to follow, and the three mothers set off into the mortal world.
CHAPTER 1
SEAN
Twenty years later
Sean Archer was no stranger to headaches, but this one was next level. It bloomed from the innermost parts of his brain to spread its throbbing tentacles into his teeth and down his neck. With his face still smashed into his pillow, Sean blindly rummaged his bedside-table drawer in search of ibuprofen. He jerked his hand back when his finger met something sharp.
With a groan, he sat up. A thin cut along his fingertip wept blood, and he glared at the exposed box knife that Past Sean had carelessly thrown in there.
Past Sean was a jackass.
Snatching it from the drawer to retract the blade, he paused at the forgotten note lying beneath it. His heart thumped hard at the familiar paper, worsening his headache as guilt warred with relief that he’d managed to put it out of his mind for so many years.
Though it didn’t really matter that he hadn’t looked at it. Its contents haunted his subconscious mind, no matter how hard hetried to forget. He sensed a heavy weight hiding in these words, clawing against some instinct in his head, some force that made him feel distinctlyother. He took the note from its resting place, careful not to stain it with blood, and unfolded its well-worn creases.
