Page 106 of The Aether

“I’m not finished, Butthanger,” he snapped. The furious slap of energy behind his comment caused the other man to hiss in a breath. “Do not interrupt me again.”

A low murmur reverberated around the chamber, and many sat wide-eyed and fearful.

As they should.

“For centuries, I have served without complaint. I’ve accepted every task, faced down every villain, Morcant included, and I’ve always done as you’ve requested.” Pausing, he ran a hand down Sabrina’s black curls, lightly kissing her temple to show his affection. “But now, you dare force my daughter to stand trial. For what, I ask you? For being too powerful? For possessing the ability to see through your black hearts to the ugliness in your tainted souls?”

Buttagier was sweating with his need to speak, but a deep respect for Damian’s retaliation held him in check.

“What has she done that is so wrong? Saved lives?” Slowly, he scanned the crowd. “She’s saved mine multiple times.”

The Fates, known as the Three Sisters of Fate, rose as one. Each was different in looks from the next. Had someone dared racially profile them, they’d be considered unique women of shape, size, and ethnicity, representing all humans on the planet. But theywereblood related.

It made Damian laugh to know people were so ignorant in their belief that one’s skin color defined a person. Or that where they were born in the world made them better than another. It didn’t. It was all circumstance. One of those three rulers decided which body a soul should inhabit and where they should reside on Earth, and for how long. All under the guise of some greater plan.

And it was ultimately those three women who would have the final say in Sabrina’s and his futures.

None opened their mouth, yet their voices blended together in a chorus of worldly accents as they spoke.

“The child possesses unimaginable magic, Aether.”

“I’m well aware.”

“She is more powerful than any human should be,” they said.

“And yet, you were the ones to give her that power,” he replied silkily. “Did you gift it so you could take it away? To force us to stand here today as you strip us of our magic and our lives?”

“No one has mentioned strippingyouof your magic or your life.”

With a humorless smile, he shifted to stand in front of Sabrina. “You’d need to do both to hurt my child, Sisters of Fate. You know I’ll never allow harm to come to her while I’m able to draw a breath.”

As one, they teleported into the round and formed a semicircle around him.

Reaching back, he gripped his daughter’s arm and pulled her to him, silently urging her to hold on. They presented a united front.

“Send the child to us.”

“No.”

“Your defiance will make this harder, Aether.”

He was well aware, but he allowed his arrogant stare to speak for him.

“If I may consult with the accused?” Isis rose to her feet, commanding attention.

A slight bow of his head was his acknowledgment, though Damian didn’t remove his focus from the Fates.

She teleported, positioning herself beside him, facing the others. A show of support for a father and daughter who still held her favor.

“Exalted One,” he murmured.

“Beloved. I see you’ve gotten yourself into a pickle—is that the expression?”

“Yes, I believe it is,” he replied with a chuckle.

“Nathanial is fond of pickles.”

His bark of laughter couldn’t be contained. Isis had referenced Nate’s favorite novelty socks. They displayed a plump, smiling pickle with the words“Kind of a big dill”beneath it. In this setting, Damian didn’t dare correct her or say it was Nate’swifewho likely preferred pickles. Her husband’s pickle, to be exact.

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