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“Thank you,” I rasp.

He lifts his wrist and glances at his watch, then pins me with a serious look. One I know means business.

“We have four minutes. It will take forty-nine seconds to get in position, so listen and don’t interrupt.”

Nodding weakly, I almost give him another thumbs up, but think better of it and let my arm drop with a grimace.

“You know the Last Daughter. You know her life. You’ve watched her grow. You’ve seen her pain. Her heartache. You’ve watched her fight. Every. Single. Day. You cried with her, even when she thought she was all alone. When she thought she had no one in the world, you were there.”

“You already know how she’s going to react. You know her. You care for her. No one in either realm is better suited for this task because every other being alive would look at that girl and see a job. Or a prophecy. Or a vessel. But that’s not what you see, is it?”

Shaking my head, I swallow thickly and croak, “No.”

“What do you see, Asterion?”

We slow to a stop, and I turn, looking at my Mate—my partner and best friend—in the eyes. He’s only an inch taller than me, so it’s not hard. The hard part is letting myself believe in the confidence I see in his eyes when he looks at me.

One side of his mouth tips into a small, knowing smile.

“I just see… Idril,” I tell him honestly. “I see Idril, and all she’s been through. And I want her to be happy. More than anything, I want that girl to be happy. Which is probably so, so stupid!” Swiping at a tear that escaped, I let out a self-deprecating laugh before throwing up my hands.

“You’re right. Every other person would look at her and see a job. One they know they can’t fail because if they do, our entire race—hundreds of thousands of us—will be destroyed. Killed. Just like the Royals. She is our only chance for salvation. We need her. The world needs her. If we have any chance of surviving what’s to come⁠—”

“If we have any chance of surviving what’s to come,” Oneric interrupts, lifting his hands and cradling my face in his palms, “Idril needs someone in her corner who won’t treat her like a commodity. Someone who will remind her of who she is when the Council’s doing their best to make her forget. They won’t do it on purpose. They won’t do it to be mean. But make no mistake, they’ll still do it. To them, she is the prophecy—a tool. But to you, she’s just… Idril. That is why you won’t fail.”

It’s like a massive weight’s been lifted from my shoulders. With a deep exhale, I fall into my Mate’s arms and hold him tight.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“Don’t thank me,” he says, pulling back. “Get in the right headspace and straighten your spine. I don’t like this whole melancholy sad-prince thing you’ve had going on all day. I miss the loud, sarcastic, chaotic male I Mated.”

Following his advice, I straighten my shoulders and shove all my fears down as far as they’ll go. I can do this. In fact, I was fucking made for this. I won’t let anyone down.

Especially not the Last Daughter.

I survey the area as Oneric checks his watch once more. Our location is inconspicuous. No one knows about it except the council and us. The keep is only a quarter mile away, which means it’s still on the property. Behind us, the back gardens extend nearly to the side of the structure. In front of us is one of many forests, teeming with flora and fauna that don’t exist on Earth.

And less than three feet from where we stand, the Ley line awaits, shimmering like summer heat above asphalt. I lift my arm and extend my hand palm up, willing a ball of light into existence. Oneric does the same, which makes it even easier to see the overlap between our realm and hers.

“Time?”

“Thirty-three seconds.”

I shift closer, peering over to watch the seconds count down until I can’t take it anymore—which lasts about eight seconds.

“Ten seconds.”

I close my eyes, clear my head, and mentally prepare. This is it. I’ll have exactly two minutes to force this Ley line open successfully. Two minutes before it shifts out of alignment and the opportunity passes.

It will be seven days before it shifts back into alignment and I can try again.

We don’t have seven days. Not with how quickly things are escalating. Idril needs answers. She needs help. She needs to know who she is and where she came from.

So many people in her life have failed her. I will not be another name on that list.

“Three seconds.”

Determination fills me. I have so much to tell her. So many stories. And gifts! Fates, I have soooo many gifts. For Soren and Caelan, too.