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They vehemently disagree, as they do not see a need to change our plans. I don’t, either. Cassia’s ideal location doesn’t change much. Yes, Greed’s troops are more likely to cross at the thinner part of the mountain range, but Wrath’s soldiers are strong.

They can teleport the distance with ease.

I’m suggesting the change for her, though. I’m doing it in the name of goodwill. Does Cassia appreciate that? No. Of course not. She let me take the heat from the generals. She didn’t participate in their sudden barrage of questions, but she sure didn’t jump in to offer support, either. I looked like a fool, and she clearly loved every second of it.

I drag my hands through my hair.

Cassia is exhausting, but I’m trying. Behind her crazy eyes and anger is an admittedly intelligent woman. She’s phenomenal at her job when she tries, and she seems to have good instincts.

When she learns to control her emotions, she’ll make an exceptional leader. She puts her kingdom first, and I suspect she’s willing to do whatever it takes to protect it. I grudgingly admire that about her.

I enjoy watching her lead meetings. She’s outspoken, and she’s confident in her decisions. If she weren’t so fucking exhausting, I imagine I’d find myself drawn to her in an admittedly dangerous way—a way I’ve been trying hard not to think about.

I shake my head, annoyed with myself as I continue pacing my living room. I don’t want to fuck Cassia. She’s nothing more than a thorn in my side, and her fathers are protective. Aziel would demand my head on a platter.

I want Cassia out of my life.

There’s a ripple in the air, and Silas and Charlie appear in the center of the room a heartbeat later. How do they know where I live?

Charlie brushes Silas away the second they materialize, her anger toward the fate practically palpable. I’ve heard whispers of tension between Silas and his mates, and I suspect I’m responsible for it. Silas knew where I was. He helped me enter Greed, and he gave me a considerable amount of money to getstarted. I sent him updates when I could, at least one or two every year.

“Charlie.” I’m not sure what else to say.

She ignores me, turning toward Silas. “Come get me in an hour.”

“Of course,” Silas says. He hesitates, then brushes his thumb across Charlie’s cheekbone. He does it too quickly for her to notice and react, which screams desperation. He’s desperate to touch her, and he vanishes before she has the opportunity to push him away once more.

I clasp my hands behind my back, mentally preparing for Charlie’s anger.

“Rock,” she says after a moment. “Rexton, I suppose. I hear that’s the name you’re going by now.”

She looks me up and down, scanning every inch of my frame. We haven’t seen one another in over twenty years, which is absurd to think about. I’ve been meaning to visit her, to apologize and beg for forgiveness, but I haven’t yet found the courage.

“Rexton is my birth name,” I say.

“I’m aware.”

I gesture to my dining room, then to my couch. I’m not sure where to do this. “Would you like to sit? I have food. Are you thirsty?”

“No.” She sits on the edge of my couch, appearing just as uncomfortable as I feel. “You look stressed. Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” I swallow, guilt rendering me speechless. Charlie continues. “Or is it because you and Silas lied to me for over twenty years? I thought you were dead.”

I open my mouth, but no sound emerges. What do I say? She lost a child, and I let her believe she lost me, too. She was hurting in ways I can’t even fathom, and I added to her pain.

I made a choice, and now I’m ashamed to face her.

“I’m sorry,” I eventually say.

Charlie raises a brow. Things fall silent.

They remain that way for several minutes.

“Thank you for killing Mammon,” Charlie eventually says. “The fates will punish you for it.”

I’m aware. They punished Charlie after she murdered Gray’s father, and they’ll do the same to me. I’m not concerned. I knew the consequences of my actions, and I chose to do them, anyway.

There’s always a possibility that the fates supported my decision, but I’m not counting on that. Silas orchestrated everything, but there’s no way of knowing whether he did it out of his desire for revenge or because the fates told him to. He’ll never tell me, either.

It’s why fates are so hated. They know everything, and they share nothing.