Especially for a being as powerful as me.
There was a price.
Expectations.
Responsibility.
Duty.
The day was fast approaching for me to pay up.
I was expected to take up the mantle.
But I never accepted anything at face-value.
I dug deeper, I looked for alternatives.
I was looking for a way out of it completely.
I didn’t want any of it.
It would change everything.
It would shatter my life and those close to me into a million jagged pieces.
Once it happened, it could never be undone.
So, until I’d exhausted all possibilities, I wouldn’t let it be, I wouldn’t give into the pressure bearing down on me from my father.
And what mammoth pressure it was. My father wasn’t somebody to be trifled with. Nobody denied him. He was the great Cornelius Martel, Head of the Guardian Movement, Silver Ghost, an almighty Immortal. There was no being more powerful on the mortal plane.
“Sweetness.”
I started at the sound of the familiar voice, my maudlin thoughts coming to a grinding halt.
As it always did without fail, his adoring endearment put a smile on my face, and I turned from the railing to see him walking through the open balcony doors, carrying a full champagne flute in either hand.
Ryker Morgan.
My confidant.
My best friend.
The love of my life.
And the only being I’d ever trusted with the volatile secret of my true heritage.
“It’s the time for relaxation, Mia,” he said, holding out one of the glasses to me. “We’re off-duty all night and for the entire day tomorrow, a rarity for either of us. Let’s savor it.”
I took it and offered him a smile, the concern in those mesmerizing emerald-green pools of his reflected back at me bringing it home to me just how preoccupied and tormented I was with the burden bearing down on me. It was a burden he knew nothing about.
“You’re right, my love,” I said, taking a sip from my glass. The moment the sweet nectar hit my tongue, I realized it was top-shelf all the way, absolutely exquisite. “This is really something, Ry.”
“Of course. Nothing short of the absolute luxury you deserve for our twenty-year anniversary.”
Oh my God. “Twenty years,” I murmured to myself. “That’s… it’s really something.”
“A blip on the radar to most immortals like us. But not for us. I’ve felt every moment of it, savored our glorious time together. Nothing like a blip at all.”