Chapter 51
ISLA
Isla had a vague sense of having lived an entire life. A sense of a love that was not perfect, but one that had been… enough.
She watched, still separated from Saoirse, who had become the Luna of Phobos, while the dark-haired queen stared out the window at a light rainstorm, a hand resting on her swollen belly.
“Hello, darling,” Aneurin purred, stepping into her bedroom, separate from his own.
But this Aneurin did not hold Kai.
Isla checked the bond. It was distant—a spark. But there… still there. Perhaps he was in a different hollow of the past.
Isla steeled against her panic, forcing herself to remain, learn, listen, and see why all of this was so important.
“You’re back.” Saoirse smiled, but there was a tiredness in her eyes. Even Aneurin seemed to have aged, his hair graying at the sides and on his beard.
“I am,” he said, leaning down to place a kiss on her neck, sliding a hand over hers on her stomach. Isla fought back against the uneasiness of intruding on an intimate moment.
“I feel like I’ve barely seen you,” Saoirse breathed, her voice vacant as Aneurin kissed her again. Gentle, but not tender.
“There's much to be done, dear.” Aneurin’s voice had an underlying darkness as he stepped back from her, heading for her side table to pour himself a glass of water from the crystal pitcher. He pinched between his brows.
“Are you still having those headaches?” she asked.
Aneurin took a long drink. “Nothing to worry about.”
Saoirse’s features fell, and she hesitated before saying, “I heard something today… Is it true? Are we really going to war with Io?”
Isla’s heart stopped, and something lethal flashed in Aneurin’s eyes. She could’ve sworn she felt the room tighten, the aura shift. “If I have my way, yes.”
She knew the same dread that sluiced through her ran through Saoirse, too. “There has to be another way—a better way. I don't want to bring our child into a world of bloodshed and death. Can’t you come to an agreement?”
Aneurin’s nostrils flared, his voice gravelly. “The Imperial Alpha will never relinquish his power, you know that. And as long as we are under his thumb, we will not thrive. None of us will. None of us but them.” He rose to his feet.
“Wait,” Saoirse called out, and there had been years of these abrupt ends to conversations and quick goodbyes. “You just got back. Won’t you spend the night with me?”
Aneurin pursed his lips, hesitating, scanning his mate, then her bed. “I need to leave for Iapetus before dawn. If I spend the night with you, dear, I won’t be doing much sleeping.”
The innuendo didn’t do much to rouse Saoirse’s lips. She looked away from him. “Why bother coming back at all? Weren’t you just in Tethys?”
Aneurin sighed, closing the distance between them. “I came to see my mate and child. Our future alpha.” He leaned down, placing a hand on her belly and kissing her again. “I am doing this for us, my love. All of us. For our future. It will be brighter than any ever was.”
“I can’t imagine how bright it could be shrouded in so much darkness.”
Aneurin said nothing, only kissing her once more and leaving.
Isla gritted her teeth, her nails digging into her forearms as she watched Saoirse cry.
In the emptiness of this bedroom, it all rushed by her. Their love had not been perfect—and it had barely been enough. Aneurin valued power above all, even her.
She glanced around the room, seeking out Kai, feeling the hours pass by like wind against her cheeks as Saoirse rested.
Until a knock came at the door.
The luna hadn’t been asleep. She’d just been staring out into the dark void before her, so she shot up at the sound. A shadow lingered below the door before disappearing.
Carefully, Saoirse padded to the entrance, calling out for an answer that never came, and opened her bedroom door to find a box at her feet. Atop it, three symbols had been carved, and Isla recognized them as the emblems of the Goddess, Fate, and Eternity.
With furrowed brows, Saoirse slowly walked with the box to the chair Aneurin had sat in, sneering at his discarded water glass as she sat.
Lighting her lantern, she carefully pried the case open, and Isla gazed over her shoulder to look inside.
She swore she felt the white-haired woman over her shoulder, pushing her to see.
Isla’s heart started as she looked upon a diadem and dagger—the diadem and dagger. She could feel them call to Saoirse the way they called to her.
Though here, in this time, they were entirely intact.