Page 277
“It says, Elydrien. Under that it says, Child of Flames, Wielder of Lineages. Child of Prophecy, Bearer of Four. All capitalized.”
“That would denote a title,” I murmur. “Something official.”
“Official to whom?” Vae asks.
“This at the bottom,” Riven gestures at a barely legible line. “The Last Daughter. The Last Hope.”
“The Last Daughter,” I breathe, mind spinning in circles. I read the words over and over again until—
“Elydrien,” I gasp, the word finally clicking. “Fuck! The murder board!”
Vae’s eyes snap to mine, wide with shock. I snatch the book from Riven and scan the passage. The words don’t change, but the pieces in my head begin to move, rearranging and slotting together until they form a picture I’m starting to understand
“It’s the word that was tacked up to Alberton’s murder board,” I repeat.
“What in all the Fates is he talking about?” Riven asks.
“When we found out who the Doctor working with Varenthrall was, we went to his house and did some recon,” Vae explains. “There was an actual murder board in his closet.”
Riven grunts. “Yes, I remember you saying that, but what does that have to do with this?”
“In the middle of the board was a paper with a single word on it. I thought maybe it was the name of the project or something.” I point at the page, right above the word.
“Elydrien.”
Vae’s face drains of color, and he turns, stumbles a few steps, then reaches for the lock box and points to the inscription.
“A.E. It’s not a maiden name at all. Or…” he runs his thumb over the etched letters. “Maybe it is her maiden name. Maybe it’s actually—”
“Annalise Elydrien,” Riven finishes, looking as shocked as I feel. He falls back, leaning against the tree for support.
“Fates, that makes so much sense. If the blood’s coming from Idril and her Mother— Elydrien blood.”
“It’s not just a name. It’s a bloodline,” Riven says. “Don’t you see? It’s Idril’s bloodline. Annalise’s bloodline.”
He gestures for me to hand him the book, and once I do, he crouches down and flips through the pages. Once he finds the one he’s looking for, he turns it around.
“‘There is one hope, however. That hope rests in the life of a girl child not yet born. One who will hold the pulse of all four hearts in her veins. When the day comes that the Gate opens once more, she will stand ready.’”
My body reacts before my mind does. I stumble back, my heart skipping what feels like a dozen beats before thumping back to life.
My chest aches, throbbing with a sharp, insistent pain that won’t go away.
And yet even though I’m spiraling physically, my mind is strangely calm. When my gaze lands on open pages of the book, I realize with a jolt that… I already knew.
Everything Riven’s saying isn’t a shock because, on some fucking level, I’ve already come to the same conclusion.
Vae’s eyes fall to the book—to the girl sitting alone in a field that suddenly seems a thousand times bigger than before—and his eyes harden.
He clenches his jaw and straightens his shoulders. Then he lifts his chin and looks me straight in the eye. I’m so fucking shocked by the sudden change in his demeanor I almost miss the growl vibrating in his chest—something I haven’t heard from him in decades.
But even that’s not as shocking as the words he shoots at me like bullets, each one aimed right at my chest.
“If you say one fucking word about her—just one, Daxen—I’ll make Caelan’s beat down this afternoon look like a tickle match. You’re not going to use this shit to hurt her. Not again. Never again. I’ve tried to be nice. I’ve tried to be understanding. I’ve tried easing you into it. I’m done trying. So whatever it is you were just about to accuse her of because you’re fucking scared and don’t know how to process emotions when it comes to this one female, I highly encourage you to take those words and go fuck yourself with them.”
Maybe I am losing it because the fury in Vae’s voice and the clear promise to go to war for the Omega fills me with pride.
He really would beat the shit out of me right now. He means it.
