Chapter 26
Chapter
Twenty-Six
Nine days.
That’s how long Selene had been falling into the same damned pond.
She heaved herself back up onto the thick tree trunk that lay precariously over the water, soaked, bruised, and one insult away from punching Petrina in the throat.
The fish below scattered at her movement, their scales flickering like bits of glass.
Dragonflies hovered across the sunlit surface, looping around like they had nothing better to do.
Selene watched them and squeezed pond water from her braid. She’d give anything for the ability to fly at the moment. To be free. Weightless.
Untrapped.
Petrina, absolutely dry, motioned Selene forward on the log they’d long worn smooth of debris. “Again.”
She bit back a groan. The Blades had trained her hard, too, but they at least offered a grin, a taunt, some shred of encouragement. Petrina fought like she was trying to kill her. Which she might very well be.
Still, there wasn’t much else to do. Nine days in a barricaded village gave few options: train, or go mad.
Or have conversations with Roman that went nowhere. Like: “Mother will explain when she returns,” or, “You’re safe from outsiders here. Trust me,” and, “Lie low. Your friend is an outsider, and technically, so are you.”
He always said things like that. Calm. Final. Smiling.
And stupidly, Selene was the reason they were trapped in this village in the first place.
“You deserve to know who you really are,” he’d told her. “Let me help you.”
Petrina muttered her distrust of the man a dozen times a day—at minimum—but Selene hadn’t listened. And though she’d expected her to, Petrina had refused to leave Selene’s side.
Now they were walled in, watched, and kept waiting for their leader to return from the mainland of Okos. Trapped by her own hope. Any movement near the outer gate was met with multiple armed guards.
The village itself was almost beautiful enough to make her forget. It sat nestled in a lush valley, hemmed in by cliffs and waterfalls, a winding river weaving through its heart. Vines curled around stone buildings like jewelry. Mist threaded between trees. Wildflowers sprouted from the very walls.
But every time she looked up, all she saw was that wall. That gate. Those guards.
This wasn’t a sanctuary. It was a cage.
Selene braced to battle Petrina again—muscles trembling, sun in her eyes—then gave up with a long exhale. “I’m done.”
Petrina arched a brow. “You’re unfocused.”
“I’m drowning.”
“Only halfway.”
Selene dropped her face into her hands. She wanted to scream. To run. To fly.
She wanted Augustus. He wasn’t just a comfort—he was a tether. A promise. And something inside her said he was in danger. That she was wasting time. Every day she stayed here, silent and unseen, the world kept moving without her.
Her anxiety might have had something to do with a dream she had that morning. In it, the dronsian had licked Augustus’s cheek, and he groaned. “You ruin everything.”
Selene woke laughing, only to erupt into tears.
Petrina sighed and softened her stance. “Come on. We’re done for today.”
They circled the village’s edge on their walk back. If she ignored the perimeter wall, the place was almost peaceful. But Selene couldn’t shake the tension in her shoulders or the ache behind her ribs.
By the time they reached their modest house of moss-capped timber, Selene’s tunic clung to her skin, and her boots squelched. She pulled off her wet clothes, tossed them toward the corner, and sat heavily on the edge of the bed.
“I want to go,” she said quietly, pulling on a dry shirt. “We need to go.”
Petrina, already shucking off her own tunic, didn’t even blink. “I’ve been saying that since we got here.”
Selene sighed. “Your I-told-you-so is wholly unwelcome right now. I’m sorry I got us into this. And now we’re trapped—”
Petrina grabbed her wrist. “I can get us out.”
Hope stirred in her chest. “You can?”
A knock sounded.
They froze, locked in a silent stare, until Roman’s voice filtered through the door. “It’s me.”
Petrina whispered, “I swear he’s watching our every move.” On Selene’s eye roll, she added, “So, he just happened to visit moments after we returned from training?”
Selene reached for dry pants. “Get dressed. I’ll see what he wants.”
Even as she said it, her stomach twisted in knots. She couldn’t think clearly when he was around.
Roman unsettled her. He was like walking into a dream she didn't trust—he looked like comfort, spoke like a friend, and yet something in her blood refused to soften.
Other times, she felt…something else. Recognition. Longing. Guilt.
As though she’d once loved him—many times, in many lives—and didn’t know what to do with the fragments that remained. The worst moments were when she missed him, though she didn’t understand why. And through it all, the guilt coiled tight in her chest like a brand.
Selene gripped the door handle and braced to face the dual reactions once again. Two breaths later, she opened the door.
Roman reclined against a wooden post on the stoop, sun catching the copper in his hair like a memory she hadn’t meant to keep. He snapped to attention with a wide smile the second she appeared. “Hello, Eva.”
“It’s Selene,” she reminded him. “What do you want, Roman?”
“She’s here, and she’s asking for you.”
There was only one “she” Selene had been waiting for: this elusive “Mother” of the Drynopian people. The one woman who could answer all her questions, but also grant them their freedom. And maybe, just maybe, explain why Selene felt like half her soul was still waiting to be claimed.
Petrina appeared in a clean tunic and pants. “Finally.”
“Only Eva,” Roman said with a nod to Selene.
“She goes nowhere without me,” Petrina said.
They’d delayed enough, and this argument could go on forever. “It’s fine,” Selene said. “I’ll be back soon and can fill you in.”
She stepped outside—
“Wait.” Petrina twirled a blade before holding it out, hilt first. “Take this. You never know.” She punctuated her words with a lifted brow at Roman.
“She’s perfectly safe.” His dislike of Petrina couldn’t be more evident in his tone. “I would never let anything happen to her.”
“You keep saying that,” the woman countered with narrowed lids. “Funny thing, though… I don’t fucking believe you.”
“It’s not your belief or trust I’m after,” he countered.
Selene slid the blade into the empty sheath on her belt. “That’s enough.”
Roman’s mouth drew into a thin line, but he didn’t argue. He held out his hand. “Let’s go.”
She nodded for him to go ahead. “After you.”
Selene kept Roman a step ahead as they walked.
He moved with the ease of someone who’d walked these paths a thousand times, his sandaled feet brushing low grass as he led her toward the river.
He was all sharp lines and quiet confidence, a man who used silence as a weapon.
Did he ever raise his voice? Argue? Fight for what he believed was right, regardless of who was in power?
Augustus could never stand in another’s shadow the same way.
Gods, she missed that recklessness. The way he crashed through life, loud and unafraid.
Roman reached the rope bridge, its frayed edges swaying above the narrow stretch of water below. He paused just before stepping on and turned. “Your friend’s words make you wary of me.”
“No…you make me wary of you.”
“I would never hurt you.”
Selene couldn’t trust her own feelings toward him, let alone the man himself. Until that happened, he would have to deal with her distance.
“I’m not doing this with you,” she said, and shifted to pass him.
Roman sidestepped, blocking her. Eyes of blue and brown studied her face. She’d spent the better part of a year staring into eyes exactly like this, but where Augustus’s held warmth, Roman’s only mirrored back what he thought she wanted to see.
He reached out, and she flinched before he even touched her. His fingertips grazed the scar on her cheek. It was ugly and pink, and she could barely stand to see herself in a looking glass.
“Who did this?” he asked.
Selene shifted her cheek away. “My kidnapper during a fight.”
“Is he still breathing?”
“For now.”
“I hope to give him an answer for it, then.”
Her stomach lurched toward her knees, and she put a healthy step between them. “No one fights my battles for me. I’m capable of doing that all on my own.”
Except, in this case, she would step aside for Augustus. Thorne was the fleet’s villain more than he was hers.
“You may very well be, Eva, but why not let—”
“My name is Selene.”
Roman shook his head. “It’s Eva. It’s always been Eva, the way I’ve always been Roman.”
“That’s not true—”
“You’ve been away for a very long time,” he cut in. “No Mother. No guidance. Alone.”
“I haven’t been alone. I’ve had Augustus.”
Roman flinched, and his eyes went flat. “Who?”
Selene drew back even further. For nine days, she’d kept Augustus’s name and existence on the edge of everything, trusting her instincts to stay quiet about him. By the look on Roman’s face, she’d been right to do so, and it was clear he wasn’t going to let the slip go unanswered.
“Augustus is my…” She paused over the truth as she knew it. It was believed they were true soul mates, but she and Augustus chose a long time ago to dismiss the idea that they were fated just because a prophecy said so. Despite the fact that they returned to each other in every life.
“He’s the man I love,” she finally said, chin high. “Our souls always find each other.”
Roman’s jaw muscles flared like thick tree branches, and a flash of raw emotion lit his eyes. “I see.”
The truth of what he wasn’t saying struck her like lightning. “You know him.”
Roman bent over her, fingers curling into fists. “He’s not for you.”
The words hit her like a slap—entitled, possessive, wrong.
Every emotion Selene had locked into a neat little box burst open and overwhelmed all sense, drawing her to her fullest height. No one dictated her choices.