Page 82 of Sent To A Fantasy World and Now All the Men Want Me 7

He breathed out. “Even if he agreed to shelter us, I don’t wish to bring our troubles upon him. Onyx has faced his fair share of war. I refuse to drag him into one of my own making.”

“You did nothing wrong, Eli.” Her frown deepened.

“But I did,” he softly said. “In my attempt to seek peace with King Silas, we traveled to Haran to discuss new terms for the treaty. If I had left the matter alone, the seer in his court would never have seen you, nor would she have sensed the power inside you. Inside Evander.”

“What does King Silas want with our boy?” She poked the baby’s nose and smiled down at him—at me. Tension lingered at the edge of her eyes though. “Is he truly that powerful?”

“Evander is special.” My dad dried his hands and turned to her, resting his hip against the counter. “There have been others like him in the past. Children born from light and dark and possessing the power to save kingdoms… or turn them to ash. I believe King Silas wishes to use Evander much like a previous king of Haran used one of the former saints to breach the demi-human realm and enslave their people.”

Wait. What? The top of my scalp prickled.

That’s what happened to Lake’s homeland? I’d heard that a former king of Haran invaded their kingdom to steal their resources but hadn’t known he’d used a saint to do it.

“I refuse to believe our sweet boy could ever hurt anyone.” She caressed the baby’s cheek. “He is too pure and good.”

“Both light and dark exist within him, Cyn,” he said, stepping toward her. He knelt on the blanket and gently rubbed the baby’s belly, his smile unsteady. “His future choices determine which way the pendulum will swing.”

A lump wedged in my throat. The power that’d exploded from me in the throne room had felt so… dark. Triggered by my anger toward Cedric. The same happened the other night when hearing about Roth corrupting the knights.

Not once had my powers surfaced for anything good.

Did that mean the pendulum had already chosen a side? That when my powers fully awoke, they’d be corrupted and cruel?

This had to be the buried fear the elixir had wanted to show me. I’d been just a baby at the time, but had the little chub on the blanket understood, on some level, what his parents were discussing?

“All we can do is shower him in love and hope that he’ll grow to be the man we know he can be,” he added, his smile softening as the baby grabbed his finger. “A man who is kind like his mother and who sees the beauty in the life around him.”

“And with his father’s sweet tooth,” she said, then poked his nose like she’d done to Baby-Me earlier. “Which reminds me. How do you feel about an apple tart for dessert?”

He snatched hold of her hand and brought her closer, smiling before he pressed their lips together.

Cheep.

With my eyes misty and throat tight, I looked toward the archway leading from the kitchen. Pumpkin sat there staring at me.

“We have to leave now?” I asked, understanding the purpose of his presence now. For whatever reason, my subconscious mind had chosen the tree critter to guide me through whatever fever dream the elixir had thrown me into.

He wagged his fuzzy tail before dashing toward the front door, his toe beans creating a light thud against the wooden floorboards.

After one last glance at my parents, I followed Pumpkin from the room. And just like before, the scene changed the moment I stepped through the archway.

But I was still in the cottage.

The remnants of sunlight streaming through the windows had vanished. Instead, lightning flickered on the other side. A storm raged outside as I stood in the middle of the front parlor. Alone. No sound but the rain and wind slamming against the house. I flinched as a crack of thunder rattled the windows.

The front door burst open behind me.

“Cynthia!” my dad exclaimed, soaked from head to toe. He shut the door and rushed toward the hall. “We need to leave. Now.”

The cry of a baby came from the back room before my mom appeared with Baby-Me in her arms.

“What’s happened?” she asked.

“There’s no time to explain.” He handed her a cloak and grabbed a large satchel from the wardrobe, slinging it over his shoulder. A bag that’d been packed and ready to go. “I just need you to trust me.”

“I do trust you,” she said, confusion and fear filling her voice. “But why must we leave during the storm?”

The door flung open again. I thought the wind had blown it open at first. But then hooded figures stepped through the doorway.