After losing everything and everyone, Sari is forced to start over and make sense of a new world. Again. And while the evil in Spitta keeps growing, this time, she has to fight her inner demons as well.
Blaming her for their Alpha's death, Sari's ba...
The night had been quiet—and warm. Even without the sun, we didn't need any furs to keep warm. There had been a soft breeze while our Moon shone bright, preparing for her next honoring night. Though I doubted now that honoring was how our Moon spent those nights. If she not mourned more than she celebrated. If she not plotted vengeance, rather than showing her respect.
Ayatti's Moon was next, and then... Agni's Moon. Both nights when our enemies would prevail over others, where their powers would be at their peaks.
If Beckett was planning to strike, he'd probably do it soon. And that scared me—it frightened me to my bones, and echoed in my soul.
He's coming, that voice inside me warned, he's coming, he's coming, he's coming.
I looked at Aven, walking a few steps ahead. Both Alphas next to each other were the stark opposites—one with hair dark as night, the other with hair golden as the sun. Day and night, life and death. One stern, cold, and lethal; the other elegant, charming, and cunning. Allies from different powers, both strong beyond measure.
I wasn't sure if Cailean would ever reveal his secrets, his histories. But he knew the truth of our origins. He knew... because he had been there. He had experienced it. And he was gifted—so he had participated. He had joined in those horrors Sariranyasa had shown me in the Pool of Death.
He had captured our Goddesses, he had defiled them, claimed them in ways beyond my imagination dared fill in. He had done that, he had beaten deities into submission, he had stolen from them, and he remained alive and unscathed today.
As much as that chilled my bones even more, I found that I answered that voice. We will be waiting, I said to it.
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"Welcome to Oxyn," Cailean mused, as he pointed to a city in the distance.
We were almost there. The walking had been grueling under the scorching sun. The cool breeze which had caressed us at night, had fled as soon as the sun came to be. And the lack of shade in this open terrain, where only dry bushes and an occasional small stream proved to show any sign of life—it had been horrible to walk. I found myself drenched in sweat, nearly panting.
But—we were almost there. Perhaps walking toward our demise, but if it got me out of the sun, I would accept it, I thought.
We had passed a few flocks of goats, and we'd always made sure to keep our distance. We couldn't alert any farmers lingering nearby, but the flocks had been wild, it appeared.
They'd had a strange build, unlike other sheep I'd encountered in my life. They were more adapted to these changing weathers.
Cailean had told me that—while now the sun was setting everything nearly ablaze—these lands were known for their temperful weathers. One day could start with a kissing, smiling sun, and could very well end in a grueling, destroying storm. Sometimes it rained, poured for days on end. Sometimes there was not a single drop of rain that fell down for several Moons, and the sun shone so hard, that even the small streams would dry out completely.
