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Sylaira
The first time I Saw my fated mate, I was only one hundred and eleven. Far too young for my power to have taken root. Far too young to have my heart shattered into a thousand pieces with the knowledge that if he ever found me, he’d rob me of everything I held dear.
Unlike most Angels, his hair was an iron gray. His brows, so serious, with one jagged scar, were a dark contrast to the glacial hue of the orbs beneath them. I knew not who he was, only that his piercing gaze penetrated my own and choked me of air.
I’d returned to reality screaming into the darkness.
I never wanted to meet him.
Whoever he was.
Sight was supposed to be the holiest blessing from the Goddess. I thought it was a curse. Especially with my eyes—an icy shade of blue that signified a level of power that surpassed most other Angels. Once my prophecies had worsened, growing dark, twisted, tormented, I’d begged my parents to allow me to consume virelthorn to suppress them.
Absently, I rubbed my chest as if I could ease the ache of everything forced upon me. Sometimes, I was almost tempted to snatch at the threads of my visions, to discern where he might be so that I might situate myself on the farthest side of the world from him.
“Sylaira,” Heraphia hissed, drawing me out of the haze of anger and back to reality.
I blinked, realizing I’d nearly scrubbed the skillet clean through. “Sorry,” I breathed, dropping it and the brush into the washbasin. Water sloshed, frothing the soap bubbles and wafting citrus into the air. I turned to face my oldest friend, shoulders slumping inward.
Only to find aquamarine eyes wide with fright and scouring mine. My heart leaped into my throat. “What’s happened?”
Heraphia swallowed, a hand hovering over her heart. “I think we need to move.”
I took a tentative step forward, the dishes forgotten. “Have you had a vision?”
Like me, Heraphia was blessed with Sight. Her eye color was only a shade weaker than my own, which made her—both of us—a great prize for the rulers of the Angels. For decades, we’d hidden from the crown. I’d lost my parents, countless friends, and dozens of others in raids on the few havens the Elessarum had managed to carve out in the fringes of the Angel Realm. The Koron and Korona wanted the Seers to wield like weapons of war.
I wanted no part in their violence. In their bloodshed. The loss of life was utterly u
Except see.
Heraphia didn’t take virelthorn to suppress her visions. Three times now, she’d had a flash of knowing a day before hunters for the Korona would arrive in whatever village of insignificance we’d rooted ourselves.
“Yes,” she whispered, her voice shivering despite the heat of the summer.
“When?” I pressed, fear scorching my veins. We’d only just settled in here. But the bounty for reporting members of the Elessarum had doubled since the Demons invaded the Angel’s sovereign territory the previous winter. The army had beaten them back, but the current peace was tenuous at best. It was only a matter of time before the two realms, positioned on either side of the Skala Mountains, clashed again.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. It happened so quickly. Maybe it was nothing…” Heraphia trailed off, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she gazed out the window behind me.
I grasped her hands and gave them a reassuring squeeze. “If you think we should go, then we will go. What did Zuriel say?”
She sighed. “He isn’t back yet. That's why I came straight to you.”
I glanced behind me at the stack of unwashed dishes. “Okay, here’s the plan. Alert the others. I’ll finish up here. We’ll be packed and ready by the time he returns.”
Our group was scarcely more than twenty these days. Two years ago, an Elessarum stronghold had been raided, during which my parents and many others had been slain. Since then, we kept to smaller groups, hoping to remain u
Zuriel, having been born to one of the noble houses of the Angel Realm, carried a regal air that was unmistakable. Perhaps he’d been spotted in the village and someone had alerted the local hunters, which had triggered his wife’s latest vision.
Whatever the case, if she sensed it was time to move on, it was time to move on.
“Do you need me to pack your bags?” Heraphia asked, dropping my hands and stepping back.
“If you can.” I offered her a sad half-smile. “There shouldn’t be much to put away. Haven’t had much time to unpack.”
Anguish twisted her lips. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, hey, it’s not your fault. You are always protecting us,” I said, yanking her into a warm embrace. I rubbed my hands over her back, trying to soothe the ache of having to move on so soon. We relied on her to keep us safe, a fact that made me feel guilty more often than not. But I couldn’t bring myself to come off the herb and allow myself to fall into the horrors in my head.
“You’re right,” she hiccuped, and I released her. She dashed the backs of her wrists under her eyes. “Okay, I’ll go now. No time to waste.”
“Go in peace,” I told her.
“Always in peace,” she replied. Then, she disappeared from the kitchen and into the long hall that led to the other rooms in the estate we’d rented.
Tears pricked my eyes the moment her skirt swished out of view. I held my breath for another ten seconds, stomping back toward the washbasin. Tried to stem the flow of salt so I could see what I was doing as I yanked another plate from the dirty pile.
But it was no use.
A sob choked out of me.
I was tired. So fucking tired. Of ru
Bitterness coated my tongue as I stuck in the side of my cheek.
Heraphia and I could have been sisters, if the Goddess hadn’t been so cruel. Her brother had attempted to court me for years before his death. We’d had fun, enjoyed each other’s company. And yet, when he wanted our relationship to turn more serious, I’d rejected him.
No one knew about my first vision, save for my parents. It was too painful to share.
As was a life with someone who would never be my mate. Who I might have to abandon on the rare chance I crossed paths and locked eyes with him.
Sometimes, I imagined him looking back at me. Of walking forward and cupping my cheek, awe etched into his expression. I hated myself for wondering what he might say.
The water foamed as I scrubbed each plate in decisive, furious swipes. We’d lose coin abandoning this place so soon. Bringing these dishes with us was paramount to conserving what we could.
I reached for a drying cloth, ru
The plate I’d been holding shattered, ripping my gaze away from my best friend’s husband and back to my task. In my bones, I knew there was no time to finish it.
“Heraphia!” I screamed, backing away from the window. My hands flew to the pockets of my skirts, searching for those precious bottles of virelthorn. I yanked one free, finding it half empty.
Fuck. We hadn’t been here long enough for me to harvest more. But I had a few spares in my bag…
Spi
“What is it?” Hair had come loose from her long, pearlescent braid in the minutes we’d been separated, a testament to the fear she’d masked before.
“They’re coming,” I gasped out, spotting my pack in her hand. I snatched it without apology. We’d done this often enough that niceties were not expected, not when every second mattered in escaping a fate worse than death.
She shouldered past me as I dug my hand into my belongings. My fingers closed around the cool glass vials, only offering me a modicum of relief. Without care for propriety, I ripped my skirt off and shoved it inside. The tights beneath were far more conducive to sprinting.
Chaos crescendoed in the halls as the Heraphia shouted a warning and pleaded with everyone to hurry. I ducked and dodged members of the Elessarum as I wove toward the front door. Flinging it open, I found Zuriel a breath from busting it down.
“The hunters are coming,” he burst out, chest heaving. “Where is Heraphia?”
“Here!” she called out, emerging into the sun. She tossed Zuriel’s pack to him. He caught it with a loud smack and slung it over his shoulders in one smooth motion.
“We can’t wait for the others. We have to go. Now.” His normally measured, calm, voice was anything but. “These aren’t the normal ones. Korona Ioath sent her best forces after us.”
“You don’t mean…” I trailed off, unable to finish the thought.
“That her brother is among them?” Zuriel gritted out, grabbing our hands and tugging us along toward the nearest copse of trees. “The Issaraeth is here, and if he uses his Command power, we’ll all be his hostages before high sun.”
Heraphia gasped, clutching her tunic like she could prevent him from accessing her power.
The Issaraeth was the most feared of all the Elessarum hunters. He was responsible for the death of my parents and Heraphia’s brother during the stronghold’s raid. Or so I’d been told. I’d never so much as glimpsed him, which counted me among the lucky ones.
His presence dug a chill into the marrow of my bones.
“We have to warn the others!” I protested, digging my heels in.
Zuriel dragged me a few paces, digging up soft earth, before he halted and gave my arm a vicious jerk. “Do you want to be forced to See until you die, Sylaira? If they capture you and Heraphia, you’ll never escape.”
“But they’ll suffer too!” I ground out, yanking my arm out of his hold.
“They have to take their chances,” he shot back, a muscle jumping in his jaw like it too was impatient to flee. “Both of your visions are too powerful. Too frequent. I won’t let that happen to my wife. Or you.”
Heraphia bolted, her feet a frantic beat against the grass. Her pack bounced against her back, overfull. Just like me, her skirts were gone, aiding her escape. “Come on!”
Guilt gnawed at my gut. Zuriel was right. If I wanted to maintain my freedom—what little I had—we needed to go. Now.
I glanced back at the estate, where another couple had managed to escape the panic of the interior. They raced in the opposite direction of us. Better to split up and regroup later than to all be captured together. The fewer of us they could catch, the better.