Page 116 of May: Bloom & Bane

“Therael…” He removes his glasses. “You know that will not stop whoever is placing these curses on the hybrids. The best I can do is soften the edges.”

“That is all I am asking.”

“For how long?” He pushes his glasses back into place. “A month? Six? The memories will keep fighting their way up, Therael. And they will become more painful as they force themselves through. Eventually they will either break through what I’ve put in place… or they will break him.”

“Then give me whatever you can.” My voice cracks. “Please. He is not ready. He just found her again. We cannot do this to him. If the cycle takes him before they’ve had any time at all⁠—”

“He’ll reap her,” Remavau whispers.

“Yes.”

A cloud drifts between us, chirping softly. Remavau catches it gently in one hand, cradling it like glass.

“These little ones,” he murmurs, stroking the cloud with his thumb. “Died before they could understand what love truly was. Before they knew what it meant to be chosen by the very people meant to adore them.” He looks up at me. “How do you think he will react when he realizes he chose the wrong love twice?”

My chest tightens. “He did not choose the wrong love twice, Remavau. We were bound not to reveal that he was chasing the right soul in the wrong body. He never loved Lumi or Naya. We all know that. He was always after the scent of Eden’s soul.”

“That may be, Therael. But he will not understand that.” His markings pulse in response to his sorrow. “He will not understand why he feels drawn to her.”

“And Eden⁠—”

“Will eventually learn her mate chased her sister across two separate lifetimes.” Remavau releases the cloud, watching it float away. “Even when she understands the truth—that it was always her soul he was searching for—how will she not feel like she came second?”

“She did not come second. She was always who he was searching for. He just couldn’t find her through the⁠—”

“Knowing something intellectually and feeling it are very different things, Rael. We know that better than anyone.” He gives me a sad glance. “And until we find who is behind all of these curses, this will continue to happen to all of them.”

He lifts both hands, and golden dust blooms in his palms.

“I will do what I can,” he says. “The visions will come as fragments. He will see Lumi running through the snow. He will feel the pull, but he will not understand the context. He will not remember being Micah or Therin—or why she feels familiar.”

“How long?”

“Four or five months. Maybe six if we’re fortunate.” He grimaces. “But Therael…. when the cycle fully takes him, nothing I do will hold it back. He will remember everything. Two lifetimes of breaking his heart over women who were never actually his⁠—”

“I will be there,” I promise. “When it happens. I will help him understand.”

“Will you?” Remavau’s eyes flash white. “Because I am not sure even I understand how to reconcile that kind of tragedy.”

“He loves Eden. That is what matters.”

“I do not doubt that. I have seen his dreams.” Remavau steps forward, pulling me into an embrace. His arms are strong and solid, and he smells like cotton candy and coconut. “But we both know love is not enough.”

I do not know how to answer. So I stand here, held by one of my oldest friends, and let everything else fall away for just one moment.

“I will start tonight,” he says. “The next time Sage sleeps, I will weave the blur into his mind.”

“Thank you, brother.”

“Do not thank me.” He gives me another sad smile. “Every vision I blur is just another lie by omission. Another day he does not know the truth about himself.”

“Every day he has with Eden before the memories break through is a gift. It is the best chance we have at him coming out of this as himself and not a full-fledged reaper.”

“I will give you as many days as I can.”

The dream realm fades around me, stars dimming, clouds evaporating into mist.

“Therael?” Remavau’s voice echoes through the fading light. “When the cycle begins, and he starts to spiral… remind him of one thing.”