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I can’t imagine a Fate worse than waking up every day and wondering if, secretly, my Mate would rather burn the Bond out of his chest than spend another moment pretending that Fate got it right.
This is ridiculous. I need to focus. I have Caelan. I have Soren. I’ve survived two decades’ worth of terror and pain and fear and lived through it.
I’ll survive this, too.
Soren leans closer, like he can sense my distress, and I exhale in relief when his warm palm settles on top of my thigh, squeezing gently. He leaves it there, and I’m grateful for it. His touch is grounding.
The door swings open, and Branwen saunters in, last to return from the short break Gavran insisted we take.
“How are things back home?” Gavran asks as Branwen retakes her seat. She shrugs, placing her phone face-down on the table.
“As well as can be. Mum and my aunts were having a snit knowing Varenthrall’d taken me, so they’re a bit overprotective at the moment.”
“Wait. Your family knew you’d be taken?” Silas’s mouth drops open so wide I can see the back of his throat. “And they still let you get on a plane?”
Branwen picks up a piece of toast and takes a delicate bite. She lifts a finger, then proceeds to take a full minute to chew and swallow before she answers.
“Yes.”
Silas throws himself back in his chair dramatically. My lips curve in an amused smile as, on either side of me, Soren and Caelan both break out in laughter.
Even Gavran’s eyes tighten—which I’m starting to realize is his version of a full-blown smile.
“How did you escape?” Riven asks. “Forgive me, but I’m fascinated. I had no idea Seers still existed. There’s very little written about the Talent. I was under the impression it died out centuries ago.”
Vae lifts a brow. “Wow, there are things you don’t know? Here I was, thinking you had a direct line to the gods.”
“They’ve been screening my calls,” Riven replies glibly.
Branwen smiles and sips her tea. I find myself leaning in, admittedly captivated by the Omega’s ability. I don’t quite understand how it works, but it seems both amazing and a little bit terrifying.
We’ve barely had a chance to speak since she arrived, and I have so many questions. This is another girl who can do something that no one else can. I want to know everything.
“My family comes from a long line of Omega Seers who originated from Scotland and Wales. We’re human, and only the females are blessed with the gift,” she explains. “It manifests at birth and strengthens as we age. Each girl’s Talent is a bit different. Our abilities and strengths vary wildly. For example, my aunt Pauline is much weaker in the Sight than the rest of her sisters. However, her visions, while infrequent, are much clearer than the rest of ours.”
She tilts her head to the side like she’s considering how much she wants to say. “She was the first to See Idril’s face. The visions started twenty years ago. The first was a white bird, locked in a cage. We knew the bird was an Omega. We knew this Omega was important. But for years, that’s all we knew, despite the vision's abnormal frequency. It wasn’t until Pauline received a vision of Idril’s face that we finally discovered the bird’s identity.”
Silas leans in, eyes bright with excitement. “So it’s like… what? A movie in your mind?”
“Depends on the individual,” Branwen replies.
“What do you mean?”
She takes a moment to consider before trying to explain, “One of my cousins can’t See visions the way the rest of us can. She can hear things, though. Her visions manifest as whispered warnings and important information.”
“Holy shit,” Silas breathes.
“What’s nice is that, as blood relations, we’re able to pass our Visions—what we See or hear—mentally. It requires physical touch, but it keeps our network well-informed and cohesive. One of us probably wouldn’t be of much use in the grand scheme of things, but all of us together working as a hive mind…”
She lets the implication speak for itself.
“That’s amazing,” I whisper. Her life, her world, her family—it’s like something out of a storybook.
What would it be like, growing up surrounded by a network of women who support you, guide you, and nurture your gifts? What would it be like to live with a whole group of women who understand you and love you for who you are? Who encourage you to embrace your gifts and build your confidence with love and patience?
Branwen smiles at me and winks. “Not nearly as amazing as making an entire ceiling explode with your mind, but we do what we can with what we have.”
When she smiles at me, it’s like she’s giving me the smallest peek into the life she’s lived. A wave of melancholy sweeps over me and my eyes begin to burn.
