2. Rhys
RHYS
I moved so swiftly I didn’t have time to register my path until my blade was at Olympia’s neck, my other hand gripping her hair. “I do not mate with witches. You will not try to manipulate me with your blasphemy.”
And it was that. Blasphemy.
Every so often, the gods gifted someone a fated. A destined mate. It was a sign of great power—power that needed to be balanced by another. It was a sacred gift. In extreme cases, someone might even be destined for two mates, marking a truly unique soul.
But never in the history of our people had a Nocturnae been fated to a Luminary.
And they’d certainly never chosen one as their mate.
The Nocturnae typically mated with each other.
Occasionally, one might mate with a human, but their offspring would always be a vampire—the weaker version of our kind that typically decided to reside in the human realm, where the species was less threatening.
“I do not lie,” Olympia said. The only hint of her anxiety—her fear—was the quickened pulse in her neck. Her blood pumped through that vein at a rapid beat. One that would be so easy to end for good.
And gods, I wanted to. I wanted to cause the Morningstars the kind of pain Olympia’s son had caused my family.
But it would mean war. Because the Morningstars weren’t just any family. They were high Luminaria society with strong ties to the King and Queen. So it wouldn’t just mean war. It would mean a war that would end with countless dead—something I wouldn’t do to my people.
“Let me show you,” Olympia pleaded.
I shoved her away from me. “I won’t open myself to your mind trickery.”
The witch could no doubt manipulate my mind and place any images she wanted there.
Olympia moved slowly, removing a small blade from the belt of her dress. She dragged the tip of it across her palm, not flinching for a moment. “I offer you a blood oath.”
I blinked several times as though that might wake me from the dream I was obviously having. A blood oath between a Luminary and a Nocturnae was not done. Ever. It would be sacrilege. And in a small way, it would bind her to me. Or bind her promise to me, at least.
And if she broke that promise, all her power—her life—would be mine.
“I swear to not manipulate or change this vision in any way. Only show you what I have gleaned from the gods.”
My breaths came quicker then as the scent of her blood filled the air. There was tremendous power in that blood. I could scent it. But I would never drink it. Because it came from the source of my family’s near destruction.
Still, I couldn’t hold myself back from needing to know. A buzz of phantom energy slid over my skin, some invisible force tugging me forward. In one swift move, I thrust out my arm, smacking my palm hard against her wounded one.
Olympia gripped my hand with a strength that shouldn’t have been possible at her age. But I only had a moment to think about it before my whole body seized as if lightning had pierced my entire form.
And then, I was somewhere else entirely.
A field. With flowers. Not in the Luminary Kingdom, but not in mine either.
A woman with blond hair so white it almost looked silver spun in a circle, laughing.
She was beautiful—the kind of beauty that stilled the most restless of souls.
The kind that froze you to the spot, simply so you could experience it fully.
Those silver-blond strands hung in long waves. Her cheeks were flushed with pink. Lips stained the red of rare flowers. And those eyes? They sparked with silver in their gray depths.
But it was the laugh that gripped me by the throat. It shook me to the depths of my being because it was as if my soul recognized it.
And the one that answered it? I hadn’t heard it in countless decades—not since before my father and sister were killed and my life nearly ended. It was my own laugh.
Not the strained, false one I occasionally used now. The real one.
It coursed through the air as I caught the woman and let her take me to the ground, surrounded by all those flowers. And then she kissed me.
I knew without a shadow of a doubt that this woman was my mate. Just like I knew she was a Luminary. Pain and pleasure rocked through me in equal measure, but then I was ripped from that vision into another.
This time, I knew we were in the Luminary Kingdom. I recognized it by the nearly blinding light—a show of their power.
It wasn’t a wildflower field here. It was a perfectly manicured garden with flowers, hedges, stone pathways, and benches.
A little girl ran down one of the paths with reckless abandon, her pale-blond pigtail braids flying out behind her, one of those ribbon scepters some children used for play in her hand.
She squealed in delight as two slightly older boys chased her. As the scene played out, my gut turned to stone because it was the image of the three of them together that helped me place the final pieces of the puzzle.
The boy with the dark-brown hair and tanned skin was a descendant of the House of Starlight, a Nocturnae Prince named Kian.
But the boy with the golden-blond hair? I knew his face even better.
Because I would always know my enemies better than even my loved ones.
He was the Prince of the Luminaries: Calloway Leclair. I bared my teeth on instinct.
And the girl—I knew her, too. And her identity would turn everything on its head.
Before I could try to pull myself from the vision, the sound of wings flapping in the air swirled around me—strong, brutal beats. I reached for a weapon on instinct, but I had none. I wasn’t really here.
The Luminary Prince shouted, “Rae, stop!”
But the little girl thought it was all part of the game.
Only, it wasn’t.
My gaze moved skyward, eyes widening in horror as I saw the demon raiding party. The King himself led it, riding his favorite fanged beast. He swooped down, hauling the girl up as she let out an ear-piercing scream.
It was too late. No one could save her now. If they shot the beast or the King, she would plummet to her death.
The girl’s terror reached out like a living, breathing thing, strangling me. Because we were connected by an invisible tether that meant I would burn down the world to protect her.
A flash of lightning pierced me again, sending me crashing to the ground. Ragged breaths tore through me as I struggled to sit up on my knees.
Olympia came into focus, breathing heavily from the strain of sharing her visions.
“The woman in the first vision…the girl in the other—it’s your granddaughter,” I rasped.
The daughter of the man who’d slain my family in cold blood. The cruelest man I’d ever known to exist. The one whose blood I wanted to bathe in.
“Yes,” Olympia croaked.
“She is promised to the Prince of the Luminaries.” It was the way it’d always worked in their antiquated society.
“Yes,” she said again.
“And she is my fated,” I gritted out, pain coursing through me—agony that the gods would betray me this way.
“Yes.”
It would be war. But nothing could be done now. So I said the only thing I could.
“What. Do. You. Need?”