“Have I mentioned,” Thorne said, glancing at Holland, “that I really like her?”
“Yes, you have.” Lirian pushed away from the window, focusing on Thorne as Holland rolled his eyes. “Why are you even here?”
“Why areyouhere?” Thorne countered.
“I was here first,” the Ancient shot back.
“That wasn’t an answer.” Thorne took a drink. “To what I asked.”
“Oh, my gods.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. They were as bad as Kieran and Reaver. “So, we’re just going to ignore what happened there?”
“Why do you care?” Thorne queried.
I stared at him for what felt like an entire minute, unable to believe he’d actually asked that. “Why do you ask such ridiculous questions? How can Inotcare?” I stepped toward him. “How canyounot care? How can none of you care?”
“It’s not that we don’t,” Holland started.
“But the rules.” It was my eyes that rolled this time. “Who created them?”
“You should know the answer to that,” Lirian retorted.
“I do,” I bit out. “Asshole.”
His eyes widened, and he looked positively affronted by what I’d said. Honestly, I couldn’t believe I’d said that to a Fate, but hewasan asshole.
“Exactly what rule forbids you from doing something about those Ancients?” I demanded.
Silence.
I looked between the three of them, waiting. In the silence, it occurred to me. “Thereisno rule that expressly forbids you from interfering in other realms, is there?”
“There are rules that we, the Arae, agreed upon that don’t necessarily impact the balance.” Holland shifted in his chair. “But they are no less important. And we agreed that we would not engage with the Ancients in the ground.”
I crossed my arms. “Why?”
“That is not something you need to know,” Lirian stated.
“I disagree.” I stared at the two seated Ancients. “Why would you—?” I stiffened as an image of the risen Ancient came to me—mainly, his eyes. There had been crimson in them—the power of death. It was also in my eyes and the essence I’d seen in Cas. What had Lirian said? That you could tell by looking at those Ancients’ eyes that they hadn’t released any of their eather, and the ones before me—those who now called themselves the Arae—had. The reason behind their rule was obvious. “They’re more powerful than you—all of you.”
Silence.
I knew I was right.
“I can’t believe you.” My upper lip curled as I sent them a look I hoped conveyed my disgust. “The all-powerful Arae are really justcowards.”
The chamber was so quiet I could have heard a cricket sneeze outside. I asked myself if I had really just said what I had. Had I actually called the Fates—Ancients who’d been alive since the dawn of this realm’s time—cowards?
I had.
My heart thumped against my ribs as the silence stretched, but I didn’t regret speaking the truth, even though I wasn’t exactly sure where the reckless level of boldness had come from. Not that I wasn’t well versed in running my mouth.
Maybe it was because the Arae—these Ancients—were the rulers of us all, and I was so sick and tired of those with the power to change things—to make thingsbetter—doing nothing.
To me, that was worse than even what the Blood Crown had caused.
“What did you just say?” Lirian asked softly.
“I said the Arae are cowards,” I repeated. “Am I wrong? None of you wants to deal with the other Ancients because there is a good chance you will fall to them.”
