them violent. Changed. Scared.”
My father had already guessed this. There was no other reason why the ungira would journey so far south, why they would attack so viciously, unless they felt threatened.
I saw my mother’s hand tighten on my father’s shoulder.
“The Vorakkars have decided to call for the priestesses of the north. To summon them from their temple. The thesper is already on its way.”
“The priestesses?” Lomma breathed. “You think they will answer?”
“If anyone knows what this is, it is them.” I looked at them. “I want you to be prepared, lysi? Prepare the saruk. Send for more darukkars from Dothik. Recover your strength and then begin training again. Because something is changing on Dakkar. And we need to be prepared for whatever it will bring.”
In the early hours of morning, I was preparing to leave my parent’s soliki. In the time I’d been there, I’d gone over every detail of my journey to Rath Kitala’s horde, every detail of what I’d learned there, and my father had soaked up every piece of knowledge he could.
But now, it was time to return to Maeva. And I was eager to hold her again. Already, I felt that tightness growing in my chest and I needed to make sure she was all right, sleeping, resting.
“You will not stay here?” my mother asked, frowning, watching me swing my furs back over my shoulders.
Though I caught her eyes, I sensed my father studying me, though I saw fatigue pulling at the edges of him. He was still recovering from his injury. And despite his pride, I knew that the attack against the saruk—the lives lost—weighed on him heavily. He felt responsible for them, as any leader would.
“I will be with Maeva,” I told her, told them both.
There was a flicker in Lomma’s gaze. A flicker of guilt?
“Kiran,” she said, stepping forward when I made for the door. “Wait.”
This wasn’t something I was planning to do tonight but I would if she pushed the subject.
“You should both know something,” I said softly.
“Lysi?” my mother whispered, though she knew. She knew what I was going to say.
“I have asked Maeva to be my Morakkari,” I informed them both. My mother froze. My father didn’t look all that surprised. “She has not given me an answer yet. But I had already chosen her long ago. It just took me this long to realize that. It was always going to be her. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
My mother’s eyes were soft yet pained.
“And I know,” I told her. “I know what you did, Lomma. I know that you lied to her. Lied to me.”
“What is he talking about, rei kassiri?” my father asked quietly, but my gaze never left my mother’s stricken face.
Her shame kept her from answering. It was obvious, however, that she’d kept it hidden from even my father. Or perhaps she hadn’t thought it was serious enough to warrant a discussion or to bring it to my father’s attention. That thought alone made my anger surge but I kept my voice calm.
“I even understand why you did it, Lomma. You thought you were helping me. You thought I didn’t need the distraction,” I said.
“Lysi,” she whispered. “I was only trying to...”
She trailed off, as if she couldn’t bring herself to say the words.
“Maeva trusted you. She had no reason to think you would lie to her about something like that. But it was her mother’s burial, Lomma. Her mother had just died. And I wouldn’t have cared what it took or what it cost. I would have wanted to be there for her. You had no right to make that decision for me, lysi?”
My mother’s gaze strayed to the ground.
“I did what I thought was best at the time,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, Kiran. I’m sorry I lied to you.”
I shook my head. “If you were, Lomma, you would have told her the truth a long time ago.”
Her eyes flashed up to mine.
Blowing a breath, I inclined my head to her. I didn’t want to fight. But it needed to be said.
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
And with that, I left.
Chapter Fifty-One
When I woke, blue light was streaming through the small, circular window of my room, casting prisms across the wall through the heavy, wavy glass.
Warm flesh was pressed completely against me. A steady, strong heartbeat against my chest. Black, straight hair trailing across my shoulders, tangling with my own.
My eyes drifted up and I studied Kiran’s face. His expression was slackened and