Page 3

Chapter 3

Aruan

T he whispers float in the air, wafting through the oppressive bubble of silence that surrounds me as I walk through the Great Hall of the Water Palace.

They think I can’t hear them. They think they’re safe in the other quarters. They don’t know I’ve modified my ears to sharpen my hearing, just as I’ve modified my muscles, bones, and tendons to increase my strength. I’ve also enhanced my eyes to improve my vision, enabling me to see through solid matter. So I glimpse them scurrying about the various palace rooms, huddling in their little groups to whisper fearfully about the Terrible One, the Alit prince they wish had never been born.

The Alit prince who should’ve been killed before his power grew too strong to be contained.

Reaching the waterfall at the end of the Great Hall, I part the sheets of falling water with my mind and exit onto the ledge connecting to the Sky Bridge. I walk onto it and head for the platform at the central intersection. It’s my favorite place to watch the sunrise and take in my kingdom.

This morning is particularly nice, the air cool and fragrant, the bridge ropes damp from the night’s dew. The midday winds will arrive soon, but for now, the air is still and calm, the dark sky just beginning to glow with hints of orange and pink. The only sounds out here are the songs of the small winged dragons and the roar of the waterfall, though if I strain my ears, I can still hear the goings-on inside the palace—the never-ending whispers, plots, and intrigues.

There are many in that palace who regret keeping me alive.

Some of them would like to try and remedy their mistake.

I sigh and lean onto the thick woven rope ringing the platform. When I was a child, I loved to hang on this rope, my feet dangling over the edge as I swung back and forth between safety and danger, between the boring stability of the bridge and the lethal tree-height drop below it.

I never fell, but I could have.

Maybe should have.

The entire kingdom would’ve rejoiced.

A distant screech of a dragon reaches my ears, pulling me out of my morbid mood. I clench my teeth and step back from the rope. It’s been happening more lately—the random darkening of my thoughts, the growing numbness inside me. For several seasons, nothing has brought me joy, and I know that eventually, the numbness will spread until everything ceases to matter.

The sky lightens further, and I inhale a deep breath, dragging fresh morning air into my lungs.

What the dragon?

Confused, I take another breath.

There’s something in the air. Something almost… sweet. But it’s not a smell. More like a vibration.

I inhale again.

What is it?

I can’t pinpoint it, but the sweet vibration is stronger now. I can feel it with my entire body. It’s as powerful as the eastern storms that tug at the very roots of the trees, yet nothing around me is moving.

All the movement is within me, inside me.

I’m vibrating from within.

Vibrating so fast that I’m hot.

No, not just hot. Every part in my body is on fire.

I grip the rope in front of me, the edges of my vision darkening and expanding at the same time. The sensation is surreal, all-consuming. I’m here yet elsewhere. I’m falling apart yet being made whole. The scorching vibration expands, filling me, deafening me, blinding me, hijacking all my senses, and when it dies down, I’m different.

I’m… not empty anymore.

My skin prickles all over, as if lightning shot through my veins.

No.

It can’t be.

I can’t have found my mate.

She’s dead.

They told me so, and I knew the truth of it when I looked for her. She was nowhere to be found on this world, our connection severed, destroyed.

But like the scrolls say, the soul doesn’t lie—and mine has just recognized hers.

She’s here, somewhere nearby. I can feel the pull of her being. It’s like a dragon’s claw has hooked itself deep into my chest, but instead of pain, there’s an ache, equal parts sweet and terrible, an exquisite longing that permeates everything I am.

I’m not cognizant of my body moving, of my feet taking me to the wall of water guarding the entrance to the palace, but somehow, I’m there. The water particles dissolve before me, and I pass through the waterfall and stride into the Great Hall.

“Gaia!” My shout shakes the palace walls as I turn in a circle, looking for my sister through the thick layers of wood and stone. “Gaia!”

I don’t know if my sister hears me, or if someone tells her that I’m looking for her, but a swirl of purple lights appears in front of me. Regally, she steps out of the portal, flicking her dark braid over her shoulder with an impatient gesture.

“Yes, brother?” she drawls. “How may I be of help?”

I grip her slender hand. “Come with me. Now.”

It won’t help much, of course. The rumors are already flying like embers on the eastern winds, but I need to maintain at least a semblance of secrecy for now. To that end, I shepherd her into my quarters and seal the entrance behind us before activating the shields.

By the time I turn to Gaia, she’s tapping her foot on the floor, looking irritated. “Well?”

“I need you to find someone for me.”

She blinks at me. “Who?”

“A woman. I can sense her, but I don’t know where she is.”

She frowns. “What woman? And what do you mean, sense her?”

I stare at her, stone faced.

She gasps. “No! Aruan, that’s impossible.”

“Is it?” I reach out and take her hand. “Here, feel it.”

Her eyes go wide as I feed her the sensations in my mind. She gasps again and yanks her hand away, then covers her mouth with her palm as she stares at me, shock and fear battling with disbelief on her face.

“Aruan… That’s—” She takes a step back. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything. Just help me find her.”

“I…” Her gaze darts to the sealed entrance, and I know what she’s thinking.

This is too big to keep to herself. This affects not just me, but the entire royal family. The entire kingdom, in fact. Maybe even the whole of Zerra.

Too bad I don’t give a dragon’s ass about that.

“Father and Mother aren’t to know about this,” I tell her bluntly. “Nobody except you and I is to know until she’s safely in my arms. You understand why, don’t you?”

Gaia opens her mouth but closes it without saying anything. Reluctantly, she nods—but not before her gaze jumps to the entrance again.

Once more, I sense her thoughts.

Should she try to make it out and warn the rest of the family? Or should she play along and not risk my anger?

“The latter,” I say when her gaze returns to my face. “Don’t be foolish. You can’t portal out of here, and I won’t let you leave until I bring her here.”

She blanches. “Did Kian?—”

“Just do as I ask.”

I’m not admitting anything one way or another. If she thinks our powerful brother has trained me in mind reading, that can only be to my advantage.

My sister stares at me for a long moment, then nods, defeated. “Do you have any idea where I should start?”

“All I know is that she’s nearby.” I analyze the strength of the dragon’s claw tug inside me. “Maybe a local portal’s distance away.”

Yes, that feels right. My mate is not so close that I can reach her on foot, but not so far that more advanced portal work would be required.

“But that could be anywhere in Lona,” Gaia protests. “It’ll take me forever to find her.”

I bare my teeth in a humorless smile. “Better get to work then.”

Gaia sighs and sinks to the floor, crossing her legs in front of her. “Fine. But you’ll owe me for this.”

“I know I will.” And she’ll collect, I have no doubt. “Now make it happen.”

She closes her eyes and goes to work, opening a small trial portal into the middle of the town center—the location she must deem most likely to harbor my mate. I don’t feel the pull inside me strengthening, and I tell her so. She closes that portal and opens another, this one to the south side of the river bank. Then another in a random clearing in the forest. And so on until a hundred portals have been opened and closed, and sweat is dripping down her face.

“You can take a short break,” I say after another two dozen searches. “Then we’ll continue.”

As impatient as I am, I can see that my sister is on the verge of collapse, and that won’t benefit anyone. I, like the rest of the royal family, can generate a portal or two, but Gaia is the only one of my siblings who can do it repeatedly and systematically, bending distance with her mind over and over again.

Our mother can do even more, but I’m not asking for her help in this.

“I need water,” Gaia says, licking her cracked lips. “How about we go down to?—”

“I’ll get it for you here, don’t worry.”

I pick up an empty stone bowl from a nearby table and mentally reach out to the components of water in the air. With effortless precision, I combine the gaseous particles and slow their movement, letting the resulting vapor turn to liquid and collect inside the bowl.

My sister tries not to flinch as I hand her the newly formed water. I smile sardonically. I haven’t done anything particularly extraordinary—several of us royals can do the water trick—but it’s a reminder to her that I can do more. Much, much more.

Giving up on any further attempts to escape my quarters, Gaia drinks the water silently and resumes her work, opening portal after portal as I check each one, determined to find the one woman who’s going to complete me.

The woman they told me was dead.

The one they’re afraid will bring about the destruction of our world.