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“You are not dead, nor are you alive.” Snapping my head to hers, I hold my breath. “The Sea of Souls makes your body appear dead—like a deep sleep—while keeping it preserved. But it does not kill your soul. It traps it, holding onto your power and storing it.”
My face blanches as the air being held tight in my lungs rushes out. “Trapped?” I bring my gaze to the surrounding Fae watching us.
Then, suddenly, my psyche flashes to when Whiro had me throw a Fae male into the Sea of Souls as a demonstration. And I won’t ever forget his face or his name—Vincent.
I had asked where his soul went, and with stark clarity, the whole memory comes flooding back.
“They have all been trapped here…” Remembering all the bodies floating in the Sea of Souls. Lifeless, but in perfect condition. There were…so many of them.
In my peripheral, I see her nod. “It is also the reason your father wants your mate.”
My head jerks swiftly to my mother, eyes widening as they connect with hers. My heart weighs heavily, feeling it sink to the bottom of my stomach, twisting roughly as bile burns up my throat. “How do you know—”
“I’ve been watching over you. From here, there are no limits to what I can see. I was the Goddess of Light after all.” She gives a playful smirk after that before taking my hand in hers, brushing her thumb over my knuckles. “Without even knowing it, you saved the world by sacrificing yourself for love. Your prince is the final piece Whiro needed. He’s the last one remaining from his bloodline.”
My brows crease together, and a ball of worry lodges itself in the base of my throat. I’m not there to protect him now. I left him alone and he doesn’t know. He has no idea why my father wanted him. I swallow down the lump of worry and fear, hating that I’m not beside him.
Her hand gestures to all the Fae lining the woods. “They are all wyverns in one way or another. Whether a full shifter or half, all of them were once the chosen one from their bloodline.”
“Wyverns… Not dragons?” I ask because both terms are used in Deyadrum, and the iron used against them is widely known as Wyvern.
She only shakes her head. “The use of dragon became well-known from the people’s fear, not quite understanding the difference. They only know that the beasts from their bedtime stories look similar to the Wyvern shifters who used to thrive in Deyadrum. And so, it stuck with each storyteller and townsfolk as the dragon bloodline.”
I can see how that could become altered over time because I’ve never seen a fully shifted dragon or wyvern to tell the difference.
She turns back to the Fae bordering us. “But since the beginning, Whiro has been hunting them down to trap them in the Sea of Souls and collect his power they carry. I’ve tried to stop him many times.” Her chest deflates before dragging those mirror-like eyes to lock on mine. “When a chosen one passes, another is born.”
“So, every time my father forced one into the Sea of Souls…it kept their power locked away with their body, while their soul came to the in-between? Even though they aren’t fully dead?”
Solemnly, she nods. “The Sea of Souls acts as a semblance of death, holding a well of power that grows stronger with each soul.” Her hand finds mine at my side, squeezing it. “Your mate is the last one to live since he has not born any heirs, holding the fate to his bloodline.”
The organ in my chest stutters, struggling to push blood through my veins as I take in her words. But all I can focus on are the countless eyes that remain fixated on me. I repeat her words. “They were all…the chosen one at some point in life.”
“Yes.” Her voice is strained, mixed with an undertone of sorrow. “Many of their kind were killed, out of fear or aggression. But the chosen were taken, once your father was able to find them.”
I fist my chest, clutching the material of my dress there. What is the point of becoming so consumed with power that you plan to wipe out an entire race? To kill off innocents to appease your own thirst for selfishness?
A twisted part of me wants to laugh about how fate could be so vile for giving me two fathers in my life who share a similar mind. Two males that would destroy the world if it meant being the most powerful. It’s a sick joke.
Crunching registers from my left, to find some of the Fae splitting, revealing a single male walking through. He’s tall, and though still youthful, the air about him makes me think he’s been alive for centuries. His footsteps are assertive, and his striking face remains composed.
As he approaches, my lips part with a sharp inhale. Those eyes… they are calculating, fierce, and shine a crystal blue just like a piece of glass lost beneath the sea. They lift on the corners with a welcoming look, making me take in his other features. Sharp jaw, raven hair, and…
Everything comes to a halt. Bringing my hand to cover my mouth as I bite my bottom lip to stop it from trembling.
Standing a foot away, he smiles softly, and the aroma swirling around him reminds me of…home. Of a Dark Prince who smells of cedar and maple and a place where a dense fog hugs the trees with safety.
“Are you Prince Draven’s—”
“Father?” he finishes for me, but then he nods with a small chuckle. “The one and only.” Something in his eyes twinkles as he observes me. “My son seems to have finally opened his heart.” Though his voice is rich and low-pitched, each word is pronounced crisply and clearly.
Speechless. My hand falls away and my mouth opens to speak, but no words come out.
“You can call me Irad.” I swear his white teeth sparkle when his smile stretches.
“Are you trapped here, too?” Out of everything I wish to say, that is the question that comes tumbling out of my mouth.
He hangs his head with a slight shake. “Sadly, no. I went searching for a peace offering in the Court of Ashes but ended up caught in the wrath of the God of Darkness instead. And though I may have Wyvern blood in me to partially shift, I wasn’t born a chosen with the power to command shadows. So, there was no need to keep my soul captive. In the end, he managed to trick me, driving a sword made of shadows straight through my heart.”
