are created as a result of the Fates assigning us a fornication partner and date. It’s not necessarily romantic, nor does it foster adequate relationship building.”
“A solid control mechanism,” Lucian inserted thoughtfully. He hadn’t moved from his position by the couch, but the other Elder had disappeared into the kitchen. He was likely still listening to every word while busying himself with something else.
Probably food.
If Sethios had learned anything over the last week in Gabriel’s house, it was that the Hydraians were always fucking eating.
“As you said,” Lucian continued. “It makes forming bonds or relationships difficult when everything is dictated by a governmental structure. It ensures your loyalty remains to the hierarchy, not to anyone else. Therefore, they would have no reason to expect Gabriel to help his mother.”
“And not reacting at all to Adriel’s news of her rehabilitation—other than to agree to it—only further confirmed his lack of involvement,” Leela agreed.
“Why are you telling us this now?” Astasiya asked, the skepticism in her tone one Sethios knew very well because it was the same tone Caro had often used on him. “Why not a week ago?”
“It wasn’t the right time yet,” Vera replied.
“The right time was when we started looking for Caro last week,” Astasiya argued. “Instead, you pushed us along with visions that led my brother and father directly into Osiris’s trap.”
Her concern warmed Sethios in a manner he’d not felt in his very long life. Having a daughter had awakened certain parts of him he never knew existed. And it seemed she wasn’t done altering his world outlook.
I wish you were here to see her, Caro. She’s truly magnificent. Just like you, he thought, so incredibly proud despite the troubling topic at hand.
“Perhaps, but what would you have done?” Vera countered, arching a brown brow into her dark hairline. “Gone to the council and demanded her release?”
Astasiya didn’t reply, just narrowed her green eyes.
She has my eyes but your fiery spirit, angel, he thought, his heart aching at the sight of his daughter’s stubborn side showing. We created a masterpiece.
Vera snorted at Astasiya’s look. “That’s not how our society works, youngling. They need a rational reason to comply—which is something Gabriel is about to give them. If he uses the memories I supplied him with, anyway.”
“Unless the empathy impacts him,” Balthazar said, walking in with some sort of fruity alcoholic beverage in his hand.
“What empathy?” Vera asked.
“The ability he imbibed from Clara,” Balthazar explained, his focus on Leela. He handed her the drink, his eyes glimmering with knowledge. “Rum and punch. Seems like something you would like.”
The Seraphim had gone pale, her fingers wrapping around the glass as she replied, “I’m more of a wine girl.”
“Liar,” he accused. “You like fruity concoctions. Mimosas, too, if I remember right.”
She blanched, then glared accusingly at Vera.
“What do you mean, he imbibed an ability?” the other woman asked, acting as though her best friend hadn’t just flashed her a murderous look.
Right. Sethios was done with this back-and-forth game. He’d lost his patience hours ago, and he no longer had any more fucks to give. It was time for Vera to give him all the specifics and stop wasting his time with frivolous details.
“He sliced Clara open and licked the blade, which gave him the ability to feel emotions. Or that was our observation of the results, anyway,” he replied quickly. “Now give me back my memories.”
He didn’t word it as a request but as a compelling demand.
“The only reason I’m not fighting you on this is because I know it’s going to hurt,” she growled, pressing her palm to his head. “Enjoy.”
Something was happening. Caro couldn’t define it, but she felt the agony associated with the change coming from someplace deep within.
She followed the thin strand, curious to determine the source of the intrusion. One moment, she’d been entirely fine. Floating. Alone. The next, that sting had punched through her heart and twisted her insides into a knot she couldn’t seem to untie.
What is that? she wondered, tracing the glimmering cord. Part of her recognized that it wasn’t real. A ghostly ribbon of unknown origins. It truly wasn’t practical to follow that cord. However, she supposed ending the pain proved to be a reasonable excuse nonetheless.
Caro swam along, searching, searching, searching.
Such an alarming nuisance. She’d been at peace, surrounded by sunlight and nothing, just waiting to be. Then this thing in her chest had to start aching.
She found the wispy essence, the ends intangible. Because they didn’t exist, of course.