“It will be done.”
Anastasia screamed again, a terrified roar. Was she dying? Was this it? Her hands ripped at her chest, pulling on the fabric and tearing it with her bare hands as she tried to tear the pain out. All she wanted was the pain to stop. It had to stop.
“Stop this!” Vincent roared from somewhere in the room.
“I can not. Once it has begun, it has to finish.”
“It’s going to kill her!”
“Then that is the will of the power.”
“No!” he yelled.
Anastasia let out another terrified scream as blood began dripping from her nose, landing on the cool floor.
Vincent knelt before her. “Breathe, Anastasia,” he said calmly, although the wideness of his eyes showed he was anything but. “You have to breathe.”
“It burns,” she choked out, still grasping at her chest.
“I know, Niece, you have to try to breathe through it. You can do this, you are strong enough.” He raised a translucent hand to brush the hair matted to her face with sweat. It hit her skin—cool to the touch—and the pain stopped instantly.
Vincent’s head flew back, his eyes glowing brightly with the same fire she felt within her own. He yelled, his body absorbing the light swirling around her, and she turned to Armes, wide-eyed and terrified.
“What’s happening?” she demanded.
“The world is choosing.” He stared at them both, and Anastasia tried to push herself up, to help Vincent, but her body was frozen.
Would the power destroy whatever it was that kept Vincent tethered here?
Am I about to lose the uncle I’ve just come to know?
“Choosing what?”
“Whether Vincent is condemned or not.”
“But he isn’t the one who wants the power!”
“He touched you, Sorceress. The life core will now judge him.”
Before she could respond, Vincent was gone in a flash of bright light, the blinding pain disappearing with him. On shaky legs, she pushed up, using the stone wall for support. “Where did he go?”
“Anastasia?”
She turned, expecting to see Vincent’s slightly faded form, but instead, her uncle stood before her, a solid man. He stared down at his solidified form, before looking back up at her, the blue eyes so much like her father’s, once again full of life.
“What the hell just happened?” he asked Armes.
“I believe the world has chosen two hosts for its power,” he said with a smug smile.
“Two hosts?” Anastasia looked down at her hands, which glowed with power, then to Vincent, who stared at his own.
“Two of the same line. The light,” Armes said, gesturing to Anastasia, before turning to Vincent. “And the dark.”
Anastasia sat near the pond inside the Centaurs’ cavern, staring at the water. She could feel the difference in her even now that she wasn’t using her magic. All the power inside her—that had once been a part of her she could call upon—was now no longer just a piece of who she was, it was all of her.
Vincent walked over and sat down beside her.
She side-eyed him. “I hate to ask this, but this wasn’t your plan all along, was it? Get me to track down the life core and use it to bring yourself back?”
He turned to her, joy in his bright eyes. “I assure you it was not. I had no idea it was capable of such power. It’s astounding.” He stared down at his hands. “I know you probably don’t believe me, but it’s the truth.”
She shrugged. “I believe you. After everything I’ve seen of Thames, I believe it was him controlling you. My only concern is that he may be able to do it again.”
Vincent’s eyes darkened. “That is a concern of mine as well. If he does, you know what you’ll have to do.”
“Kill another person in my life?”
“You make jokes, but that might be the only way.”
“Not if we stop him first.”
Armes made his way over to them. “The power inside is a life essence gifted to you by the core. Once it’s returned, you will not have to give it up. It is a gift, to be freely given.”
“So, I’m mortal?” Vincent asked, astonished. “Alive again?”
The Centaur nodded. “Although you are not mortal in the sense most humans are. The power inside of you is what is keeping you alive, as I said, it is a gift freely given should you ever choose your time is over.”
Anastasia smiled when Vincent turned to her. She was more than glad he had been given a second chance.
The bastard had grown on her.
“I’m glad to hear it.” Anastasia pushed to her feet. “Shall we get going?”
“We will have to wait until the caverns are secure. I’ve sent other warriors to be sure the exits are sealed so we may keep our guests safe.” He gestured to the Faeres. “I will be leaving guards behind as well. We may bring your other friends here if you’d like to keep them safe until we are victorious.”
“You’d be willing to house the remaining Terrenian humans and creatures within these mountains?”
“I would. I’ve told you, Sorceress, we are here to protect this world and its inhabitants.”
“That is very kind of you.”
He bowed his head. When he straightened, he continued to stare at her.
Vincent cleared his throat and stood. “I’d say—”
Roaring filled the cavern, and they spun to face the water, where a large whirlpool swirled in the crystal water.
Screams of the Faeres as they raced to safety were completely drowned out by the sound of the water as it spun, shooting to the ceiling of the cave.
When it subsided, Anastasia readied herself for a fight.
There, standing in the center of the water, was the Siren queen and four of her guards.
“Sorceress,” she said, narrowing her eyes on Anastasia’s face. “It seems you’ve made quite the mess of things.”
30
Terrenia
Anastasia
Anastasia gaped at the woman standing before her. The dark hair she typically wore loose was braided back, and her body was covered in gold armor that, thankfully, hid the breasts these beings liked to show off.
Golden eyes narrowed on her face, and Anastasia crossed her arms over her chest, anger pounding in her blood. How dare this woman refuse to help, then show up and blame me.
“I’ve made a mess of things?” Anastasia took a step toward her, and the Sirens flanking the queen moved closer in case of an attack. “You condemned us when you refused to help me!”
Armes looked back and forth between the queen and Anastasia. “Is this true, Coral? Did you refuse to help the Sorceress?”
The queen looked at Armes long enough that Anastasia didn’t miss the longing in her eyes, or the way her nostrils flared when she gazed on the Centaur. There was history there, and it made Anastasia wonder just how long the queen has reigned over the Sirens.
Obviously a long damn time if she knew the head of the immortal Centaurs.
“She allowed my daughter to die.”
“I did not!”
“Rosabel?” Armes choked out, his voice stammering.
“Yes.”
Armes swung his head back to Anastasia. “What happened?”
“Thames killed her. She is the only reason he was able to take my husband in the first place. She lured him, then used magic to tie Dakota to Thames.”
Tears shimmering in his eyes, Armes looked back at the queen. “Coral, is that true?”
“She should have rescued her.”
“There was nothing I could do!”
The queen looked past Anastasia and glared at Vincent. “Why is he here? You told me he was dead!”
“He was dead. Until about an hour ago.”
Vincent cleared his throat and stepped forward. Bowing his head, he stated, “Queen Coral, I am so sorry for the pain I caused your people when Thames had control over me. I assure you it is not something I would have done willin
gly.”
She glared at him, and Anastasia readied her magic just in case. No way in hell this woman was going to take her revenge on Vincent. “Very well, but just know we will be watching you. If you so much as step mildly out of line, I will put you down.”
“Understood.”
“Now, how about you two tell me what the hell is going on?” Anastasia demanded. “Who was Rosabel to you?” she asked Armes.
“We need to speak in private,” he said quietly and turned to leave the cavern.
Anastasia watched as the queen followed while the other Sirens stayed put. Not wanting her at their back, Anastasia and Vincent waited until she’d made it past them before following.
“What do you think is going on?” Anastasia whispered so only Vincent could hear.
“I wish I knew. The Sirens are an old race, but I wouldn’t have thought they’d be old enough to know the Centaurs.”
The cavern narrowed just before opening into a smaller room, one she hadn’t been in before. Pillows in red and gold covered the dimly lit space, and Anastasia wondered if it weren’t Armes’ bedroom they were standing in now.
He turned to face them, and the queen took a seat on one of the pillows. “The tale I am about to tell you is one that could get us both killed.” He gestured to the queen. “I would ask you to keep the knowledge to yourself.”
“Okay,” Anastasia agreed.
“The Sirens are an old race, nearly as old as time itself,” he started.
“They used to be Atlantians,” Anastasia interjected, not needing that to be re-explained.
“Yes. Coral and I were among the few chosen to protect our worlds. We are the guardians of our life cores.”
Anastasia’s mouth fell open, and she looked to Coral who stared intently on Armes’ face, longing in her eyes and her mouth hung open just slightly.
“We met the day we were tasked, and we…” He sighed, looking to Coral. “We fell in love.”
Anastasia was afraid to speak, not wanting the story to stop.
“Rosabel was your daughter,” Vincent said.
Armes closed his eyes. When he opened them, the green depths shimmered with tears. “Yes, she was. She was born with Siren magic and Siren features, so staying here with me was not an option. I’ve only ever seen her once, and that was the day her mother gave birth and took her back to Atlantis.”
Anastasia glanced over at Coral, who wiped tears from her cheeks. “I tried so hard, Armes. She longed for the surface, and when he came to her, the offer was too much for her to turn down.”
“I’m so sorry, Armes. I cannot even imagine,” Anastasia said softly.
“You should have saved her,” Coral growled.
“I tried. Thames was stronger than me.”
“Then how do you stand a chance now?”
“She has absorbed the power of the Terrenian life core,” Armes said softly.
Coral shot to her feet. “She did what?”
“It was the only way.”
“You allowed her to take that power? You know what will happen if she fails!”
“I do, but it chose her, Coral.” He stepped closer and gripped her hands with his own. “It chose them both.”
Coral’s golden eyes fell on Anastasia and Vincent with the scrutiny of a scientist looking through a microscope. “That is why he is no longer dead.”
“Yes,” Armes said. He placed a long finger beneath her chin and lifted it to look into her eyes. “I’ve missed you, Coral.”
To Anastasia’s surprise, the queen’s face softened. “I have missed you, too.”
Vincent cleared his throat. “We can, uh, leave you two.”
“No.” Coral turned to face them. “I am here because Thames has been to my world. I wish to warn you.”
“We know. Anastasia stopped him,” Vincent said.
“Barely. It is only a matter of time before he discovers its true location.”
“Where is that?” Anastasia asked.
“I will not tell you.”
“So, how am I supposed to protect it?”
“By stopping him.”
“Had you freed my husband when you had a chance, this wouldn’t even be an issue,” Anastasia growled.
“You should have brought my daughter back, alive.”
Anastasia shook her head. “If he wins and destroys the worlds, it will be on you and your kind.” Sparks snapped at her fingertips, and Anastasia fought the urge to do just what Thames had done to Rosabel.
Armes stepped up between the two women. “We cannot fight each other. Save your anger for the real enemy. Rosabel is gone,” he said to Coral. “It is horrible, but she made her choice, and the consequences were great.” Turning to Anastasia, he said, “We will try to save your husband, Sorceress, but if it comes down to his life, or the life of the worlds, I will not hesitate, and I hope you will not either.”
“I know what I have to do,” Anastasia choked out through the lump in her throat.
“We will fight as well,” Coral said defiantly.
“I thought your kind didn’t trouble yourself with the matters of other worlds?” Anastasia asked sarcastically, enjoying the glaring look she got from the queen. Bitch.
“This concerns all the worlds—including ours.”
“Fine.”
Vincent put a hand on Anastasia’s shoulder. “We appreciate your help.”
Coral eyed Vincent. “I still do not trust you, Sorcerer.”
“I do not blame you,” Vincent said softly.
Armes clapped his hand. “Very well, let us prepare.”
Anastasia folded her arms. “How long do you need?”
“We can leave within the hour.” Armes left the cavern with Coral at his side.
“Quite the complicated history.”
“I wish I cared enough, but that queen—”
“She’s a grieving mother, Anastasia.”
“She should have helped when there was a chance.”
“I agree, but she’s here now. With the Sirens on our side, we have a way to separate Dakota and Thames. That is good news.”
Anastasia stared after them. “I suppose so.”
If they could capture Dakota again, the Siren queen could put an end to the connection between the half-brothers, which effectively would put an end to the war. But Anastasia couldn’t help but feel they were shorter on time than they thought. The longer Thames controlled Dakota, the more damage he did to both the worlds and her husband. What if the damage was irreparable? What if the man she got back was not the man she married?
Was Dakota already gone?
31
Luxe
Dakota
Three thousand and twenty-four. The seconds ticked by, and Dakota continued to count, unable to do much else in his cell.
He was collared, caged, and being forced to murder the people he cared about, so what was he doing? Fucking counting. Three thousand twenty-seven.
“Hungry?”
Dakota didn’t even bother looking up. He could picture the smug smile on Thames’ arrogant face without even seeing it.
“Nope.”
“Today is a big day, Brother, you’re going to want to eat.”
“No thanks.”
Thames laughed. “I don’t know why you continue to deny the simple things. I can make you do whatever I wish.”
“Then why even ask?”
“Good point.”
The iron gate of his cage opened, and still, Dakota didn’t move. Three thousand thirty-nine. Thames leaned against the iron bars, white eyes narrowed. Dakota could feel them boring into him, twin flames that held nothing but madness.
Dakota was afraid of what he might see reflected in his own at this point. There was hardly a shred of the man he’d been left.
Thames stripped away pieces of his soul each and every time he took over, turning Dakota into nothing more than a shell.
He hadn’t eaten in four days, at least not by himself. Thames eventually took over
and forced the food down his throat, but the refusal was all the control Dakota had left, he’d hang on to it as long as there was breath in his chest.
“I long for the day Luxe is returned to its former glory,” Thames said almost wistfully.
Dakota scoffed. “I long for the day Anastasia rips you apart.”
Thames laughed. “Humor is good in times like these, brother. As is hope. I’m happy to see you retain both.”
Dakota rolled his eyes. Three thousand four hundred forty-four.
“You’ll see her soon.”
Thames’ words got Dakota’s attention, and he sat up quickly, losing count. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dread settled in his stomach, a sinking feeling he was becoming accustomed to.
Thames shrugged. “Our time has nearly come.”
“For?”
“We will be taking the Terrenian life core soon, and once it’s in my possession, Luxe will be saved.”
“And the Terrenians?”
Thames shrugged. “Dead. Their sacrifice will fuel our future.”
“You won’t fucking touch it. Ana won’t let you,” Dakota growled.
“You should be grateful.”
“And why the hell is that?”
“Because I’ve decided to keep you alive when all this is over.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ve grown used to your presence, and I believe one day, you will come to understand why I did what I did. Then perhaps, we can become the brothers in mind as we are in blood.”
Dakota clenched his fists. “I will never be your brother. You hear me? You are a fucking monster, and keeping me alive will do nothing but give me time to kill you myself.”
Thames glared at him, obviously pissed off his offer hadn’t been received well. What the hell did he think was going to happen? That he was going to be able to murder everyone Dakota cared about and be forgiven?
“You’ll come around.”
“No, I won’t.”
Thames pushed to his feet.
“Do you hear me, you murdering psycho?” Dakota stood, gripping the bars to help hold himself up. With his body going weak from the lack of sustenance and the magical overload, it took everything in him to not fall over. “I will never be your brother!”
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