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His eyes filled with sadness. “There is no amata for you.”
“What?” It was my turn for my heart to break.
“I spoke to the fates because your activities have had the High Council concerned.”
“What?” It was the only word that seemed to form.
“The council sees a detriment to your rule if you do not marry. So, I sought information from the fates. They said that one was born but did not survive. They are dead, Samkiel. Whoever your amata was to be has perished. It would make sense, given that others would seek to stop the union if you had an equal. Your power alone is far too…”
His words faded as the pounding in my ears took over. I did not remember sitting on the dais or him sitting next to me. His hand came down hard on my shoulder, grounding me as my world tilted on its axis.
“I am sorry, my son, but this could also be a gift.”
“A gift?” I reared back. Could he not see he had extinguished any hope left in me?
He picked at the rings on his fingers. They were the same as mine, but solid gold. “Yes, a gift. They’ll see a King of Gods in you, whereas I am but a shell of what I once was because she is gone.”
My eyes stung, knowing how rarely a mate survived the death of their other half.
“While the thought of having an amata is joyous and fantastic, it is also a curse. So you are lucky.”
“How can you say that?”
He looked away as if he were afraid to show me how much pain he was in. “It is a true soul tie. In the beginning, Chaos created us in pairs or more. The mark is a tether that pulls you back to each other. Once connected, it is beyond bliss, beyond ecstasy. Even the hard parts are no longer hard. The days become brighter. Everything is better because they exist, and when they are gone, the pain is immeasurable. I’d heard rumors of the mate dying when one does, and I never truly believed it, but it is true. You do not die quickly when they are ripped from you. It is a slow, painful death. You die every day you wake, every day you breathe, every day you think. You are empty, a shell of what you were. I try, and I work, and I help, and I lead, but I am no longer here, Samkiel. A part of me left the day she did. So yes, that mark is a deadly cruel thing, and you are lucky.”
He stood in one solid motion, the chains and armor echoing in the hollowness of the room. He stopped at the door and, without looking back, said, “I just wish for you to be well. You need someone to look after you if I am not here. You need someone to always be on your side. If Imogen can at least shoulder a portion of the burden, then so be it.”
Silence fell.
“When?”
“I have a briefing in several moons, perhaps after that.”
I did not speak.
“I am sorry, my son,” he said before closing the door behind him.
He spoke of someone able to shoulder the burden of the crown, but I knew Imogen. Even with all her strength and wit, she could not. Only my equal could, and now that I knew my fate, the world seemed to dim.
The storm outside raged on for days.
The water had turned bitterly cold, its chill ripping me from my memories. I swallowed and turned the water off before stepping out. I could hear every voice in the guild. The celestials were working to calm the mortals as they scrambled for answers. I should care about what had happened. Yet, the only thing I heard, the only thing I focused on, was the single, slow, steady heartbeat coming from eight floors below in the cell.
She had asked me once if I had an amata. I’d told her then how unkind the universe was, how cruel it could be. But, hearing her down there, knowing what had changed between us, I knew I was wrong.
The universe was not cruel. It was brutal.
I dressed, summoning clothes and preparing to venture back downstairs. I could give Cameron and Xavier a reprieve if they wished to eat or rest, but first, I needed to give the map to Vincent.
Lights flickered on as I crossed the large living area. A few books I wished to return to the remains of Rashearim sat in a neat stack on the center table, along with the thin strip of gray photos hanging from the edge.
The air shifted, and I spun, my blade already summoned and raised.
“Roccurem.”
“I do apologize for what is about to transpire, but please know it must happen this way. I see no other option.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
