“How do you feel?” Ophelia asked, leaning forward. I had a feeling Tolek’s arm around her waist was the only thing keeping her seated.
I shrugged. “The same.”
“What do you mean?” Santorina asked, and I faced her.
“I mean, I’ve lived this long without knowing.”
“CK, you’ve been wanting to find this answer for a while,” Tolek said.
“Yeah.” I sank back into the cushions and accepted if I didn’t talk about this, they’d never let it go. “But I think I was only using it as an excuse. I’m the Mystique Second now, whether I like it or not.” I raised my brows at Ophelia, who gave a smug smirk in return. “And I know I said I didn’t think I was fit for it because I didn’t know who my father was, but I accepted anyway. Now I know, and I feel…the same.”
Actually, I was hollow inside, but that wasn’t due to the revelation. It was about who wasn’t here for it.
“Are you keeping the title?” Malakai asked.
I pretended not to notice the way Ophelia sat up straighter. “I am,” I confirmed. “I still don’t think I’m right for it, but…I’ll keep it. I want it.”
Surprisingly, none of that was difficult to admit. Like a band had snapped around my reservations the past few weeks after squaring off against the Starsearcher Chancellor and learning the truth of his own rule.
“Good,” Mila said. Admiration shone in her eyes.
“You realize what this means, Cypherion?” Jezebel asked as she and Erista entered from what I assumed was the kitchen, carrying trays laden with breakfast.
That smokey scent hit me again, my stomach grumbling as they set them on the dining table, but I asked, “What?”
“You,” Jez said, swiping up a berry and popping it in her mouth, “are a full Mystique Warrior.”
The sentiment settled over the room, slipping between us all like the remnants of a lightning storm.
“I guess I am.” And the electricity sparked through my blood, fueling a sense of belonging.
Malakai’s mother, Akalain Deneski, had been chosen for Lucidius because her family had a strong Mystique heritage, and a Revered needed power. But her older brother—myfather—had been the Deneski heir.
I’d heard of him for years. He was supposedly noble and brave, cunning and charming.
“Why didn’t he ever show up?” I asked, deflating a bit. And as I said it, I only looked at Malakai and Tolek. Something in me felt like that question was only for us.
“He might not have known,” Malakai offered. “I wrote to my mother as soon as we got back from the isle last night.”
The isle. Right. Where the fae queen was. How had she even known the truth? There was still a chance she was lying.
Spirits, my head was spinning again. My crisis with my father didn’t matter amid all of that.
But Malakai handed me a wrinkled piece of parchment.
Mali,
I wish I could say I am as surprised as you are, but a piece of me always suspected this might be true?—
“She knew?” I gaped at my friends.
“And didn’t want to share, apparently.” Ophelia scowled as she picked at a loose thread on the couch. Tolek rubbed a hand down her arm as if this was a conversation they’d already hashed out.
“Keep reading,” Malakai instructed. Even his voice was icy, though.
Cypherion’s mother lived in Palerman many years ago, well before any of you were born. She and my brother were crazy about each other, though I thought they lost contact long before she would have had Cypherion.
I didn’t know she returned until after you and Cypherion became friends, given her condition. She never came around to tell any of us she was back. It was only upon meeting Cypherion for the first time and hearing his last name that I guessed who he was related to.
