Threads of Fate

Chapter 32 ~ To Whom the Compass Points

    It didn't take long to get Vael and Kahari to stir. Tissaia had woken them both immediately while Azael and Talarion checked outside the barn to make sure there was no one around, and shielded it once they came inside. Kaius was merely waiting, working his hand together in an effort to quell their trembling.

    What he and Talarion had pieced together...it changed everything. His past, his present, maybe even his future. A soothing sensation filtered into his chest and the scent of night air and dust surrounded him once more. Talarion touched his lower back and guided him over to the hay bales, where the others had just sat down.

    His mate sat too, but Kaius couldn't bring himself to. Every nerve in his body was fraught with static tension and the repeated claps of thunder from outside threatened to startle him every few minutes.

    "What's this about?" Kahari asked presently. "Did the difference in the tea work?"

    Kaius drew a steadying breath and nodded. "I dreamed again." His stomach was still queasy from the blood that had dripped down his throat. "I think I learned the name of Hadeon's god-spawn. Astaroth."

    Not even the crackling flames beside him could cut through the chill that clutched his body as soon as the name left his mouth. "And the side effects stayed the same. I had no control over my body. Talarion said I...that I had..."

    The male's hand slipped into his own, almost imperceptibly. "His convulsions began too quickly for me to pin him down right away, and he managed to rip the corner of his mouth open with his nails."

    Kaius's gaze snapped to the fireplace as everyone's eyes turned to him. Crawling across his skin, his face, searching for any sign of the injury. "I experienced another symptom too," he murmured when it was clear that Talarion had said all he was going to.

    "I've had it since the first vision, but it was so short-lived initially that I forgot about it, and then it seemed too absurd to mention. But my scars from when Blood Fae attacked my family felt like they were burning." His free hand wandered to his right ear and traced the scarred tissue where his ear tip should've been.

    "I've never heard of that happening before, and I've helped heal many wounds inflicted by Blood Fae," Kahari remarked, her brows knitting together. "The only thing that would make sense would be if they were infected, but they're scars, right?" Kaius nodded. "How old are they?"

    "Two-hundred and eighty-three years," he replied. "We were attacked and my parents killed when I was seventeen. And you're not wrong. That's what we thought of too. An infection, but what if they're infected in some other way?"

    Tissaia's eyes narrowed, flickering to Talarion's, and Kahari motioned for him to continue while Azael and Vael watched with visible intrigue. Kaius drew another measured breath, biting down on his tongue to draw moisture back into his mouth, and explained the conclusion he and Talarion had come to.

    If Astaroth really was the one creating the Blood Fae, and if for some reason he was still hunting the Phoenix as he had been during the lifetime of Hadeon's son, Janus, and his granddaughter, the first two Phoenixes, it was plausible that he had been tracking Kaius's family for some time leading up to the attack.

    He could recall their village Elder being wary to let their family go hunting that day, and his parents had been particularly on edge. He had just assumed it was because it had been close to winter, and Kairos and Irina well knew that returning home empty-handed meant many families might be left with less food than they had hoped.

    But perhaps it was because they knew they were being followed, even if they hadn't known why. Kaius was able to recall the attack with clarity, from the moment the Blood Fae first sprang upon them to his parents' last breaths. He remembered barely escaping the throng that had swarmed him and running into the forest, desperate to lead them away from his village.