Page 122 of A Thread of Breath and Bone

“So many questions,” he drawls, studying Raea like he’s seeing beyond. She nods. “It’s understandable.”

Raea wipes her hand down her pants. She’s nervous—that much is obvious. What catches me off guard is that the nerves feel like they’re mine.

Caelus looks to me as if he understands. “You're close to the aether here. You experience your mate’s emotions even without the runes in place.”

Raea’s gaze snaps to mine. She studies me as I take a deep breath, bringing calm between us. Her shoulders dip—barely, but it's enough.

When we were back at school, Raea said she could feel my emotions whenever she kissed me, then she thought she could feel them when we were in Okenen, but the way she’s looking at me right now, this is different.

Caelus looks between us. “I assume you now understand more about your Mating Bond. Not that flimsy thing my siblings created. What a disaster,” he mutters. “No bother. Their choice. The Aethermark Bond is a soul Bond. It was neither made nor unmade…it just is. In the beginning, the fates of the worlds were set into motion. It is the wild, unmakeable Bond you two share. Rare and unique, but beyond what even the gods may gift.”

I grab Raea’s hand, squeezing it. She settles beside me, but her back is still ramrod straight, her years of training ingrained.

I remember her at twelve—sitting beside her mother for hours, perfectly still, like a statue. I, however, could never will my body to sit for very long. It’s always been something my mother sighed about. Cole and I were always fidgeting.

The ache hits hard and fast—home, my mother, Cole. I shove it down.

Raea looks to me, then back to Caelus. “Are our families okay?”

Caelus’s eyes grow distant for a moment before he nods.

Raea blows out a long breath. “How is…How is Morana?” Her voice wobbles. “My twin?”

“Ah.” Caelus grins, sharp and knowing. He stands, pacing back and forth before us. “Don’t worry, your parents are indeed your parents. She was born to another mother. You were both created, not conceived. Both genetically made from the strands of Elven and Fae lifeforce for the prophecy during the beginning. We couldn’t have seen the mistake.” His words are clipped, like it displeases him.

“The imbalance. When life took its first breath, we saw.” His jaw sets. I’m not sure he’s going to continue, but then he says, “You and Morana are not twins in a normal sense, but a…creation sense. You were designed. Your souls placed, separated, and carried to term in different wombs. You taking the Elven line, Morana the Fae. Balance…always balance.” He sighs. “Your mother and father couldn’t conceive. They were barren. You were a gift from the Primordial gods.”

“So, not genetically theirs?” Raea asks, her voice no louder than a whisper.

Caelus studies her, seeing the same thing I am. Tears flood her eyes, but there’s a stubbornness that won’t allow them to fall. Not when this information is so vital to who she is.

The light in Raea's eyes flickers as Caelus dismantles her history piece by piece. She isn't a Princess of Treon—she is a weapon forged by the Primordials. A gift given to a barren king and queen. The information is a slow unmaking of her soul, yet beneath the shock, I feel a resonant hum through our Bond—a memory in her blood that knows he is telling the truth.

Caelus sighs, his features becoming more human than before. “No, but you do carry trace DNA from your mother. Your genetic line originates from the first Elven line.”

I wrap an arm around her, running my hand up and down her opposite arm.

She nods to Caelus, dipping her head as her body trembles.

She’s handling this a lot better than I would. I’m so sick of the games the gods play with all our lives, like we’re pieces they can move and take out, breathe into existence. Do we mean absolutely nothing to them? Is that all this is? A cosmic game?

“Anders,” Caelus says to me, fiery blue eyes drilling into me. “Of course we care. That is why all of this is happening. Would it not be easier to destroy the entire population and begin again? Raea’s birth was the promise made by the Primordials to not wipe out everyone, and instead offer a choice.”

He looks to Raea. She feels shaky and clammy beside me. Wordlessly, Riven reminds her to drink the water. She does, and her body calms.

Caelus’ eyes return to mine. “You must understand. This war began because of my siblings, but it will end with the mortal beings. Either darkness will spread, or light will conquer.”

My jaw ticks. “And what is the darkness? What are the shadows?”

Caelus moves around the fire, silence descending on us, his hands locked behind the thick, embroidered coat he’s wearing. Without looking at any of us, he says, “Kane and Ravana have been…missing.”

The way he says it indicates he’s upset. He’s not worried about them, but irritated, maybe.

“Last I knew, they were training Morana, then—” He goes eerily still. “She is more powerful than one would expect. Her shadows are not born,” he says, his voice vibrating with a warning that makes the hair on my arms stand. “They are formed by the abuse of magic, beasts of nightmare that devour and conceal.” He looks at Raea with a finality that chills me. “Do not get lost in them. Finding your way out is nearly impossible.

“You must train your magic if there is to be a chance of winning. Your power was a gift of the stars, the beginning and end of creation. In order to harness such a gift, you’ll first restore your lifeforce and complete the Bond.”

Studying the lifeforce flames once more, he adds, “You must seek the Hall of Silent Echoes, where your ancestors sealed the knowledge. It lies where the first light dies at the root of the world.” He sighs, the sound so normal. “I’ll find my siblings.” His grin spreads slowly, eerily. “I have my ways.” He strides away as if the conversation is complete, but Raea stops him.