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That’s interesting. When I met her, I’d thought Sheela and Khaosti to be the same age. Clearly, that wasn’t the case.

“But Sheela didn’t have to do this registering thing?” I ask.

“Ms. Sheela is a healing witch; they are exempt from the law.”

I can’t help but wonder how she feels still living in a regime that murdered her father and made her mother disappear.

At that moment, there’s a light tap on the door.

And everyone freezes.

Chapter 7

I’m Not Saying It’s a Trap… But It’s a Trap

The door opens before Brown can get to his feet.

A woman stands in the doorway, tall and slender with long dark hair and golden eyes—Khaosti’s eyes. A fist tightens around my heart. I’ve tried so hard to cut my feelings for him, but obviously not hard enough.

She hesitates for a moment before entering the room, her expression uncertain as she looks between us. She presumably must recognize Zayne. She looks at me the longest, her eyes narrowing, then she moves and takes a seat next to Zayne, directly opposite me.

This close, I can see changes in her. There’s a tightness and strain to her features, her lips drawn in a thin line, her eyesshadowed with tiredness and something else. Maybe fear. I really don’t like that, and the lump is back in my throat, choking my words. She sits with her hands clasped tight and her eyes staring down so I can’t see what she’s thinking.

For a minute, neither of us say a word.

I’m scared. I admit it. But fear is becoming an integral part of my life. Growing up, it had always been the same. I’d lived with fear on a daily basis. I’d lived with loss. But for the last three years—since I lost my memory and ended up on Earth—I’ve forgotten what that’s like. For years, all I wanted was to remember who I am.

Be careful what you fucking wish for.

Anyway, my point is—I can cope with fear. I can control it. So I finally ask, “Where is Khaosti?”

She looks up and there’s a shimmer of tears in her eyes. She blinks. “He’s imprisoned on Astrali.”

Everything inside me sags with relief. I was so sure she was going to tell me he was dead. I mean, this is bad. But death is permanent—at least usually—and there’s no coming back from it. At least, not unchanged.

I take a deep breath. “Is he…okay?”

She glances away for a moment, and when she looks back, I can see the grief in her eyes. “Khronus has kept him in his wolf form. I fear he is going insane. Feral. Soon he will be beyond help. Khronus has done it before—when Khaos was just a child. We can’t take prolonged time in our beast form; it erodes our minds and our sanity. In the end, we become the beast. But a crazed form of the beast that eventually tears itself apart. It’s a death sentence.”

“And Khronus is doing it to his own son? His only son?”

“He was mad with rage when you escaped. He held Khaosti responsible. He says there is no room for traitors.” It occurs to me that Khendril was also Khronus’s son, and he’d had a bountyout on Khendril since the day he left. Dead or alive. Clearly he wasn’t a natural father.

“For some reason, Khronus wanted you badly. You’re important. But I don’t understand why.” She stares hard at me for long moments. “Last time we met, I thought you were nothing. A human.”

“Well, that’s a bit insulting,” Zayne mutters.

Sheela gives him a quick glance and then returns her attention to me. “But this time you’re more. I sense a great power. It is mostly muted but still there. Just who are you?”

I’m not telling her that. But I can maybe give her a little. “I’m a witch,” I say and Zayne sniggers. I cast him a sharp glance.

“Hey, that never gets old. You’ve got to admit it’s funny.”

Not even vaguely, so I ignore him. “I’m a witch but I lost my memory, and it did something to my head.”

“Your memory is back?”

“Mostly.”