temple. You said we had to stop Terra. So I did.”
There was a long stretch of silence as the Matron’s color drained from her face. She looked almost sick.
“For me,” she breathed.
Without warning, Cyra had dropped to her knees, holding her hands out in a silent plea for understanding.
“We can’t let her lead the others astray, Matron.” Cyra’s eyes glittered in a frenzied way. As if she were on the verge of hysteria. Or madness. “Once she’s dead, we can convince the others—”
“Sleep.” The Matron spoke the word, and Cyra tumbled to the floor, her eyes closed, and her body slack.
There was another bit of tense silence as they stared down at the unconscious female. Then Terra turned her attention to her former leader.
“Cyra plotted to kill me, but the blame lies on your shoulders, Matron,” she said in harsh tones.
Expecting more excuses, or even accusations to turn the blame away from her, Terra was caught off guard when the Matron slowly nodded.
“Yes.”
Terra blinked in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“You’re right.” Spinning away, the female paced toward the towering bookcases that lined the walls. The hem of her silken robe brushing the handwoven carpet was the only sound that broke the silence. She seemed lost in thought, her head bowed as if carrying a heavy load. Then slowly, she turned and lifted her head to study Cyra. “I allowed my fear of your power among the younger Serafs to infect Cyra with a toxic desire to protect me.”
Terra’s brows snapped together. Had the Matron been dipping into the nectar? That was the only way she could make that particular accusation.
“I’m just one of the sisters. I have no power.”
The female’s lips pinched in frustration. “You’ve been a disruptive force that has had the temple in chaos since the day you arrived.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“She’s not wrong,” Javad murmured, his lips twitching. “You’ve been a disruptive force in my life since the night we met.”
The Matron ignored Javad, her exasperated gaze locked on Terra. “Your calls for change continued to ripple through the other Serafs, even after you disappeared. You and your progressive ideals gained in popularity no matter how hard I tried to quash the uprising.”
Terra smiled. “Good.”
“Is it? You weren’t there to watch as we were slaughtered by those we tried to heal. To have your sisters die in your arms. Or to huddle in hidden bunkers while we were being hunted like animals by those who wanted our blood.”
Terra’s smile faded. At times, she allowed her fervent desire to return the Serafs to what they should be to rule and forgot that there’d been genuine reasons for building the temple.
“No.” Her voice was soft with regret. “It must have been terrifying.”
The Matron pressed her hands together. “I made a solemn pledge two thousand years ago to do everything I could to keep my children safe.”
“A worthy goal, but it’s turned us into prisoners.” Terra spread her arms. “We have to be free to share our gifts. And to choose our own paths.”
The Matron parted her lips as if to argue with Terra’s plea, then, glancing back down at Cyra, she heaved a resigned sigh.
“Any change will take time,” she muttered.
Terra’s heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t a fool. It would take decades, maybe centuries for the Matron to give in to the inevitable need to transform the temple. But at least it was a start.
“What will you do with Cyra?” Terra demanded.
She was still deeply hurt by the betrayal of her former friend. It had been as painful as any injury she’d received in Vynom’s less-than-tender care. But she couldn’t bear the thought of Cyra being judged and condemned as a traitor.
The Matron grimaced. “She’ll have to be punished, but I can’t destroy her.”
With a low growl, Javad moved forward. He wasn’t nearly so forgiving. Terra hurriedly stepped in front of him, placing her hands on his chest.
“No, Javad,” she pleaded as she tilted back her head to meet his fierce glare. “Cyra is no longer my concern. Just as Vynom is no longer yours.” She ran her hands up his chest to circle her arms around his neck. “Nothing matters but our future.” She went up on tiptoe to brush her lips across the line of his stubborn jaw. “Together.”
He snarled out a curse, but slowly, his tense muscles eased. She planted another kiss on his chin before she turned to face the older female, who regarded her with a wary expression.
“You’re leaving?” the Matron asked.
Terra leaned back against Javad, savoring