The Fight of Gods and Order (The Kirrian #2)

Prologue

. . .

“This can’t be the only option.”

“You’re willing to take that risk?” Elex turns to me, and I see his rage. Rage, wearing away the man I fell in love with, erasing the kindness and leaving only sharp edges and a painful future.

“Aslendrix will protect us—them,” I offer.

“They will be a target, Aerith. They will be hunted down. In their minds, we,” he indicates between us, “are bad enough. We defied their wishes, their command. And this is our consequence, our burden.” He walks away, pacing back towards the treeline.

“I refuse to believe they would murder children. Children of Kirrasia.”

“Fifths!” he shouts, as if I can forget what we are.

“We don’t know that,” I defend, but hope and love skew my words and belief. A Fifth is a rare gift from Aslendrix. And there have never been children born of two Fifths. It would fundamentally alter the balance that Aslendrix and Kirrasia fight to keep every day.

Yet, knowing all of this, it didn’t stop us. I let my love rule over everything because to me, nothing could be more powerful than that.

And I was wrong.

“And we never will,” Elex snaps.

“Orion will help—”

“Orion is only concerned with his own path to power. He was never with us.”

“And you trust the fate of our babies to Kalan?” My voice catches, rising and filling with the strength I feel to protect the only people in the world I love more than Elex.

“He is one of the last Shepherds. His nature is to protect. He’s with us.” He steps closer to me and slides his thumb over my cheek in an attempt to soothe my tears. He can’t.

Nobody can.

And the worst of it—deep down in my soul—I know he’s right.

We’ve all been taught about the rare gift Aslendrix has given us, and that sometimes her control wavers over the balance she delivers, and so it is up to us to stay true to her wishes and honour her gifts.

We all know how dangerous we can be individually. The Orders and the Maker were very clear that they would not support our match, no matter what we said or how we felt.

We set this in motion and forced every step that’s led to this exact moment, as if designing our own fate from the first minute we laid eyes on each other—a cruel fate from where I stand right now.

I rub my forefinger over the gold ring placed upon it by the Maker, silently wishing this could all end peacefully, but all I can feel from Elex is his anger and the power brewing inside of him, strengthening.

Now he’s set his mind on this path, there will be no changing it.

He is stubborn to a fault. A quality I was attracted to, but now, it only serves to fuel his wrath.

He doesn’t know how to back down. Not for me. Not even for his babies.

The wind picks up, gusting and disturbing us, setting us both on alert.

We watch the inky darkness around us as Kalan emerges from the shadows.

We’re in the very north of Kirrasia, past the Larimar Lake, driven away from The Court by the threat over us—our children.

We’ve kept their identity a secret from The Chamber, but they know there is a child.

My pregnancy was the final shift that sent this into motion.

Even the Maker couldn’t guide us, only offering cryptic and veiled words that could be turned and twisted the more you analysed them.

Tension is thick in the air, like the world around us knows what we’re about to discuss and is listening, or the trees might steal our secrets and hold them in their mystery.

The cloud covers us from Aslendrix’s view, cloaking us, and I see it as an ominous sign. One perhaps designed by the Goddess herself.

“Elex. Aerith,” Kalan greets us both, and I shift towards my husband, my hand hovering over his as I yearn to hold it in mine and steal comfort from it.

Elex has already spoken at length with Kalan. As much as I’m in denial about this path, I know Elex wouldn’t go into this blind.

“Where will you take them?” I ask, unable to let the tension simmer any longer.

“It’s best you don’t know.” Kalan’s words are sure but not unkind.

“But then, how will we find them? After—” My eyes flash between Kalan and Elex, my heart pulsing, and with every beat, it shouts at me that I will never see my children again. Because, looking at Elex now, I realise that he hasn’t been clear with me.

“They will be safe, Aerith.” But his words don’t placate me, and I tear myself away from his side.

“That isn’t enough.” A bolt of energy radiates out from me, knocking them both back, and I immediately pull in on myself, forcing my power to stay locked away. Drawing it back.

Elex shakes his head. I know he hates it when I do this. When I hide what I’m capable of. That’s a part of the problem—that we are the most powerful—and together pose a threat to everything in Kirrasia. Or at least, the way it has been run and ruled over the centuries.

His green eyes lock with mine, and despite everything, they spark the magic between us that’s always been there.

Not the magic that flows within us from Aslendrix, but that feeling I only ever get when I look at him.

Adrenalin and courage and lust and heat, mixing with the very essence of me until I don’t know where he ends and I begin.

And now, those same green eyes are reflected in the two precious bundles that I’d do anything to protect.

Tears prick my own eyes as he pleads with me, with nothing but that look, to hear him—to support him—even if it means making the biggest sacrifice imaginable.

“Once we have The Chamber, things might be different.” His words are appeasing, but I know better. He’s grasping.

I shake my head. “How, Elex? We might be powerful, but we can’t outnumber the Kirrian army. We have friends and family, but we can’t ask them to fight. Or fight against them.”

“We can and they will. This isn’t just about us.

This is about everything that is unjust in our land.

Our power shouldn’t prevent us from being with who we love.

Just like others’ power shouldn’t relegate them to being outcasts to watch over Sunatora or Nehandun, in the name of protecting the power everyone here clings to. Don’t you see?”

“Yes, but—”

“No! We’ve been over this. They would all see us banished and our children murdered if it meant keeping their own place.

Their own power. We are a threat. Not just the power we wield, but what we stand for.

” His words grow louder and harsher, and with them, curls and tendrils of darkness creep out to gather every scrap and shard of light in their path, pulling it in and extinguishing it.

“Elex. Calm,” I warn, keeping my attention on where his shadows venture.

“Elex,” Kalan flashes his gaze between my husband and me, hoping to draw his attention.

Elex’s power has always taken this form.

Stealing and absorbing anything in its path.

The potential destruction has been feared by many as much as it’s been coveted.

I have been the only one to draw him out and to rival him—my own magic able to power his.

“I’ll take them through the forest. We’ll be safe. No one will come after us.”

Kalan’s change of topic is enough to settle Elex’s magic, but it only terrifies me.

“And then?” I choke.

But he shakes his head. He won’t tell me.

“Promise me, Kalan. On everything you deem sacred—on the forest, on the Jarkoreth, on your own family, promise me.” I grab his arm, digging my fingers into his forearm.

I know he’ll fight it, but there’s nothing he can do to protect himself against me.

The energy inside of me flows, running as freely as the blood in my veins, seeking, working its own energy through our connection and into Kalan, pulling the essence of his power from him.

It’s the same with every Natural I touch. Worse if they are powerful.

He looks at me, his jaw set and his face rigid with pain. “I promise,” he stutters. “They will be safe.”