to the one fresh in her mind—the one where she knew this would be her fate and had done everything in her power to ensure it.
For Astasiya.
Where was she now? Was she safe? Had their plan worked?
Fuck! Sethios raged into her mind, jolting her inside her glass pod. I hate this, angel. I fucking hate this.
Hate what? she asked him, startled by his outburst.
You ignoring me.
She frowned. I’m not ignoring you. Which was fairly obvious by her replying to him now.
Then whatever the fuck this is. You talk to me for half a second and disappear. When I find you, I’m going to ensure you never stop speaking.
There’s some irony, she thought at him, snorting. If I remember correctly, you commanded me not to speak when we first met.
He fell silent at that, causing her lips to curl down even more.
Sethios?
Caro?
Where did you go?
I could ask you the same fucking question. Are you really there, or is Vera messing with my mind again?
Why would Vera...? Caro trailed off, her eyes widening as a thought nagged at her. Something about the memory manipulator being inside her mind. But she couldn’t quite identify the source of that recollection. Wait, where are you?
Hydria, he muttered, his tone indicating how he felt about that.
With the Hydraians?
Yes.
That seemed counterproductive to their goals. Why are you in Hydria?
Because our daughter is here.
Why? she asked again. Why would Astasiya go to Hydria? Unless... Is it finally time?
Are you really here?
No, I’m in a pod, she replied, confused by his question. Answer my question. Is it time? Wait, are you free from Osiris?
Her heart began to pound at the memory of what his father had done, how he’d erased her essence from Sethios’s mind right before her eyes.
You remember me? she asked, tears blurring her already darkened vision. You’re okay? Safe? Astasiya is safe, too?
Oh, angel, he breathed, his voice a caress that had her heart picking up speed and causing the beeping around her to increase in volume.
Because she was fully awake and shouldn’t be.
A Seraphim would be by soon to check on her.
Oh, no... they’ll put me back in stasis! She didn’t have time for an emotional reunion. She needed to think. But wait... Tell me if it’s time. Because if it was, then she’d prepare herself for a fight. If not, she’d—Caro swallowed—she’d allow them to return her to rehabilitation.
It’s past time, angel. I’ve been looking for you all week.
She frowned. That’s not a very long time, Sethios.
You have no idea.
Rather than correct him, she focused on what his words meant. I can free myself. She didn’t need to go back.
You can?
She didn’t understand his question until she realized what she’d said. I mean, I’m allowed to free myself.
So she needed to work on her strength, which was a problem in this pod. Her limbs were thin and unused, her body incapable of misting with all the enchantments surrounding her in this equivocal tomb.
Her lips pursed as she considered what to do. Then an odd sort of tingling began in her lower leg, a warmth she hadn’t experienced before. She investigated it with her mind, trying to determine the source and its purpose.
Half a beat later, she gasped. I’m healing myself.
What do you mean? Sethios asked. What needs to be healed?
My body. My muscles are all nonexistent from having lain here for... how long was I here?
It’s been almost eighteen years since Osiris found us, he whispered.
Oh. That explained her physical condition. Although, she couldn’t remember how or when the Seraphim had found her.
She wasn’t going to waste precious seconds now trying to recall it. Caro needed to heal and prepare for what came next because the moment they realized she was awake, they would return to subdue her once more, and she needed to be ready.
How are you healing yourself, angel?
My dormant power, she breathed. It seems to have finally come to life.
The one the Fates said you would eventually need?
Yes. She’d once told him the story about her lineage, how the Fates always chose a pairing based on the potential powers of the progeny. They’d predicted she would one day need to know how to heal. Whether it’d been for this purpose or another remained to be seen.
Why would they help you when they’re the reason you’re in rehabilitation?
The council is the reason for my current situation, not the Fates, she replied, her focus divided between speaking and healing. The Fates merely predict. The council chooses what to interpret and how to interpret