Total pages in book: 362
Estimated words: 347293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1736(@200wpm)___ 1389(@250wpm)___ 1158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 347293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1736(@200wpm)___ 1389(@250wpm)___ 1158(@300wpm)
“She did not fail shit,” Ash warned.
“Okay. Both of you failed, then. Does sharing the responsibility make it easier to swallow?” Aydun challenged. “You could’ve released Sotoria the moment her soul was placed in The Star. You didn’t.”
“It was too risky,” I argued.
“True. Kolis would’ve felt her. He’s had enough of her blood that every time she is reborn, he senses her,” he said, and disgust swept through me. “And now that he’s also had your blood, he would’ve definitely felt her because a tiny part of you has mingled with her and vice versa.”
I stepped back and then snapped forward when Ash moved toward the Ancient. I grabbed his arm, holding him back.
Aydun sighed. “Why are you mad at me for once again stating a simple fact?”
“It doesn’t matter.” I wrapped my arms around Ash’s. “What does is that you also know it was too risky to release Sotoria until Kolis was entombed. He would’ve burned through the realms to get to her and then disappeared into some hole with her.”
“Yes, he would have,” Aydun stated, glancing at one of the nearby chests. “What’s in these?”
“That’s not important,” Attes bit out. “We didn’t know that him having her blood from her prior lives was something he could’ve picked up on.” His gaze found mine. “That means if we had released Sotoria now and she chose to live a mortal life, Kolis would’ve felt her, even while entombed. It may have taken him a while to get his ass free, but he would have had one big motivation to do so.”
Meaning he wouldn’t have remained entombed for thousands of years. Not even hundreds. Or decades. “Gods.”
Attes dragged a hand over his face. “So, what does this mean?”
The Fate nudged a chest with his foot. “It’s pretty obvious if you would all give yourself five seconds to think about it.”
I opened my mouth, but Ash spoke. “She will be reborn from the Mierel bloodline.”
“She will be reborn as the second daughter of the Mierel bloodline,” Aydun corrected. “Whenever that happens.”
Ash looked down at me. So did Attes. My entire body was tingling, and not necessarily in a good way. I placed a hand on my stomach. Attes’s gaze followed my motion with a frown.
“Don’t worry.” Aydun tipped the chest, and something metal clanged around inside it. “You do not carry daughters.”
Ash’s head snapped to the Fate.
“Male twins tend to run in your bloodline,” he remarked. “Hopefully, they will turn out better than their predecessors and current company.”
I gaped at him.
“Sotoria’s soul is beyond your reach now. You all need to accept that. Now, we are left with only one way to prevent her from being reborn from the giver of blood and the bringer of bone, the Primal of Blood and Ash.”
Muscles up and down Ash’s arm tensed. “If you’re about to suggest what I think you are—”
“You will do what?” Aydun challenged, finally ceasing messing with the chests. “Attack me? Curse at me? Go ahead. It won’t change what will come. It won’t change that you will both continue to risk the safety of the realms out of selfishness to bring two babes into the realm that will eventually have babes of their own until one of them is the cause of millions of deaths—”
Ash broke my hold, lurching at the Ancient. My shout was lost in a rush of air that pushed Ash back to where I stood.
“For the third time, your anger is misplaced.” Aydun’s chin lowered as he fully faced us. “She will be reborn of your bloodline—the giver of blood and the bringer of bone—and she will carry within her the embers of life and death. Touched by life and death.”
I stood there, rooted to the floor, the spot on my shoulder where the crescent-shaped birthmark rested beginning to tingle.
“Her shroud will be that of crimson-and-gold and will bear a royal mark,” he said, sparks flying from his fingers as he moved his hand through the air. Faint silvery flames followed, forming a painfully familiar symbol.
The crown of elm and the sword—the slightly slanted sword.
The crown of life.
The sword of death.
But the flames changed, taking on more characteristics of the symbol of death. The crown became a circle, and the sword an arrow drenched in gold and surrounded by crimson.
Wrapped in the shroud of death.
My nostrils flared, and I gritted my teeth.
“She will be a Queen of Flesh and Fire, and she will usher in the end with the name of the true Primal of Life on her lips,” Aydun said as the flaming symbol faded. “Death and destruction will follow her.”
Silence fell then, settling over the chamber. Seconds ticked by.
“This isn’t fair to her,” I whispered hoarsely. “I didn’t want this for her, not after all her suffering.”
“She’ll likely have no knowledge of her past,” Aydun said, causing the three of us to look at him sharply.