Page 183 of The Sins of Silas

“My daughter,” she cried. “I have been so worried about you!” She pulled away, holding my face and checking for anything amiss. When satisfied, she looked at Torrin, who was now beside me.

“Hi, Minerva.”

She grinned widely. “I have so many questions.” She let out a winded laugh.

I bit my lip. “I think you’re about to have a lot more.”

Her brows furrowed at my comment, and I stepped away so she could see who stood just a few feet behind me.

Mymother's jaw fell open, and a moment later, a whimper escaped her, her face crumpling as her hand shot over her mouth.

My father’s face mirrored hers. “Minerva.”

She choked on a sob. “Waylon.”

He rushed to her and pulled her into his embrace. She froze for a moment in utter disbelief before she wrapped her arms around him tightly, weeping into his chest.

“How?” she cried, pulling away after a moment. She turned her face toward me. “How?”

“He saved my life,” I said softly. “In Faltrun. It’s a long story.”

Her teary eyes went back to my father, craning her head to gaze up at him.

“I have spent the past twenty-four years missing you,” he whispered, tucking her hair behind her pointed ear. Tears streamed down her face as his finger traced the pointed cartilage. “This would’ve never scared me away,” he whispered.

Her face crumpled again as she brushed her hand against his cheek. “I have missed you, Waylon. I am so sorry…” She began to cry again.

“We’ll give you some privacy,” I said softly, and Waylon gave us a grateful nod as we walked away, the two of them roaming off in the opposite direction.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Immeron striding up to greet us.

“Lena! You're back. Sooner than I imagined. It's perfect, though! I have a little something for Merrick.” He paused, his brows going together. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

I beamed. “Gods, do I have much to catch you up on.”

It was comical watching Immeron's face shift and contort as I told him all of what had occurred in the past couple of months as we sat at his dining table. I told him of the Vampire encounter in Half-Life Pass and introduced him to Dani, telling him all about the Warlocks in Forsmont and how Mages could utilize their magic as our own. I told him about the apparent evolution of the Undead and the encounter with The Lord of the Shadows, including his desire to acquire the Weapon. I finished by telling him of the prophecy inPotestas Verae Maleficis, and how the Otacian crest and Asael's painting all pointed to it. By the time I was finished, the moon was high in the sky.

Immeron just stared at me with his jaw on the floor.

I rolled my ear piercings between my fingers. “Crazy, right?”

“I'm going to have a Godsdamn panic attack,” he muttered, and I chuckled. “One thing stuck out to me about this prophecy, though—specifically the painting.”

“Oh?”

He stroked his beard, eyes lost in thought. “You said white flame. That is Azrae’s power.”

My brows drew together. “Azrae? The God of Vengeance?”

“Indeed. All of the Gods and Goddesses had a special type of magic that belonged uniquely to them. Azrae’s was white flame. Valor was shadow manipulation. Celluna could bond souls, hence the Soul-Tie bond. Tithara had the power of chronokinesis—the ability to alter time. Ravaiana’s was always a secret, however. Or rather, no one had witnessed it to document it.” He shuffled in hisseat. “Each God has their opposite. It’s a balance. Ravaiana is life, and Valor is death. Celluna is Love, and Tithara is Wisdom.”

“Mind versus the heart,” I mumbled.

Immeron nodded.

“But who is the opposite of Azrae?”

“Azrae is the most fascinating God, in my opinion. Other than Ravaiana’s power being unknown, more is unknown of Azrae than any of them. Some call him the God of Vengeance. Some the God of Justice.” He inhaled. “Some say the God of Balance. Which would make sense, considering his lack of a counterpart.”

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