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Not on what his readings tell him.

Not on what is shown to him.

What the Fates say.

It was an odd way for a searcher to reference their power. Vale always spoke so personally of hers, like each session—even those that ended poorly—was an intimate experience. Like they were the cosmos woven in the sky, laden with complex mystics and futures that weren’t fully understood unless you were the one to see them.

Titus spoke analytically, as if the Fates could be coldly classified. Another clan’s magic perhaps but not how one typically spoke of their own.

“Titus—”

But before I could raise any questions, something pinched my neck.

I reached up, finding a small needle in my skin.

And I collapsed to my knees as the chamber faded.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Vale

When the Fates finally released me from their timeworn grasps, my body was wrung out and heavy. More so than ever.

Sensation returned to me slowly, but I was on my back, chills peppering my skin.

It took a few tries for me to regain control of my body. Was this because I’d forced my magic down for so many weeks? Likely.

Finally, I tentatively flexed my fingers at my side, searching for anything to grip.

Where I expected to meet the cold stone of the chamber floor, I found soft fabric beneath the pads of my fingers.

My eyes flew open, and I rocked upright, my head spinning. As my vision steadied, a cry lodged in the back of my throat.

A silver and diamond chandelier looked down from the center of the room. The light was caught by sweeping, dark curtains pulled across the windows, stretching from high ceilings to rug-covered floors. Because as a girl, the starkness of the white stone flooring had reminded me too much of the temple.

I was on a bed much too large for one person, set in an ash-white frame with four posts and silk curtains meant to signify luxury, privacy, and intimacy. Things I’d never realized I didn’t feel here.

And a skylight revealed the heavens, storm clouds blocking out the stars.

I was back in my room in Titus’s manor.

“No.” My chest splintered.

I stared at the roiling sky above, a cold emptiness stealing through my body. In my mind, a future was torn from my grasp, leaving my fingers raw and bleeding from trying to cling to its broken edges.

I’d been returned to my cage, and instead of the affluence and safety I once saw it as, cold bars rattled as they slammed shut, snuffing out my freedom.

I stood at the glass door to my balcony for a long time. Too long, probably. I wouldn’t open it, though. Wouldn’t attempt to go outside. Because I had a sinking suspicion that the door couldn’t open. If I didn’t try, at least I could live in the denial that it was my choice to remain behind the glass.

My room was on the third floor, elevated above the rest of the First District and giving me an expansive view of Valyn. Storm clouds blocked the moon, the capital unspooling at the foot of Titus’s manor and forming a wave of deep shadows and flickering mystlights.

They almost looked like stars poured onto the street, the world turned upside-down since Cypherion and I entered the archives earlier this evening.

Cypherion…Every time I thought of him, his name tore through the splintered hole Titus’s betrayals had ripped within me. I pulled my velvet cloak tighter around my shoulders.

Where was Cypherion? Hopefully not here.

I hoped he ran. I hoped he abandoned me in that temple when Harlen showed up. Pressing my hand to the cool glass, I hoped he was far away now.