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But I refused to live with a lie. Not when the rest of my life depended on it.
I had chosen my mate and he had chosen me.
It didn’t matter what he looked like. Not since I’d long lost my heart to him. But it sure didn’t hurt that he was gorgeous!
When he told me how Titans heal faster when they make love, my initial response was, “Then why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
He chuckled.
“I’m not sure many nurses would sign up for the job if it meant they had to jump into bed with every patient who came in with an ailment,” he said.
I burst out laughing at the idea of it.
“Yeah,” I said, wiping the tears from my eyes. “I suppose it would get a bit tiresome after a while.”
We stepped into the great hall and joined the immense crowd. There were thousands of Titans, most wearing warpaint. In the center, a raised dais where four Titan chieftains stood. I recognized A’nshon who had rescued us from the Changeling soldiers on the surface.
He wore traditional Titan armor complete with dents and scratches from a lifetime of battles. The others wore similar but different plates of armor.
Fiath pointed each one out to me.
“See the one with the thick plume on top of his helmet?” he said. “His name’s Qi. He’s one of the most fearsome chieftains in the empire. And the smaller Titan, the only female, wearing leather armor? That’s Nus.”
“Nus,” I repeated to myself in an attempt to memorize their names. “And Qi. The one with the feather.”
It was hard to miss the fourth chieftain. His armor shimmered and changed color each time he moved.
“That’s M’rar Thres,” Fiath said. “His tribe is one of the most peaceful in the empire. They still fight but only when all other options have been worn out.”
“M’rar Thres,” I said.
I loved their names. They sounded like something from the fantasy books I used to read as a kid. I always loved to read.
The four chieftains sat on stools. M’rar Thres and Nus sat facing away from each other. No one made eye contact with Qi, but everyone seemed quite happy to talk with A’nshon.
Not all was well among the leadership.
A general buzz filled the huge antechamber from the thousands of gathered Titans. Stalactites jutted from the ceiling and pointed down like dangerous spears.
This antechamber didn’t have the same appearance as the tunnels. If I had to guess, I would have said this room was natural whereas the tunnels were Titan-made. More tunnels wound into this central hub along the other walls.
A’nshon stood up and eyed the crowd.
“Silence!” he said, his voice booming in the cavernous space.
The audience quietened and listened to what he had to say.
“Congratulations on making it to the Fallen Temple,” he said. “There are fewer of us than I would like but more than enough for us to launch an effective attack on the Changelings. They attacked and killed our emperor and the beacons are lit. They thought they could quell our resistance by destroying our tribes. But they were wrong. Now, it is time for us to respond to their attacks with full force!”
The crowd roared. At least, they did for the most part. Some shuffled their feet.
M’rar Thres leaped to his feet, his shimmering armor holding everyone’s attention.
“We should not attack, not yet,” he said. “More Titans are coming. If we wait, if we gather a larger force, then we should attack. We will overpower them and there will be no way to stop us. Until then, I suggest we communicate with them. Peace is always better than war.”
His comments were met with hoots of approval from those who shuffled their feet earlier. They wore similar, if less shiny, armor as their chieftain. I realized the gathered Titans were divided by tribe.
I wondered how united the resistance really was.
