Page 31 of The Ascended
In the blink of an eye,Thatcher materialized beside me.
He stumbled, barely catching his balance mere paces from me. His chest rose and fell too fast, eyes darting wildly, taking in the mess around us—servants scrubbing blood with rags, red stains being smeared across the marble floor, and finally, the corpses, lying about in all their different manners of death.
I didn't think. I slammed into Thatcher, arms wrapping around him so tightly I could have cracked his ribs. He was solid and warm and alive, and in that instant, nothing else mattered. Not the Aesymar. Not the horrors that had taken place only moments ago.
"It's going to be okay," I whispered into his shoulder. "Everything's going to be okay."
When I pulled back, Thatcher was staring up at the thrones. The blood left his face drop by drop, skin going gray as parchment.
He took a step backward.
Several of them smirked.
"How touching," Drakor said. "The devoted siblings, reunited at last."
Elysia leaned forward in her throne. "So this is the brother ourstar-wielder is so desperate for us to speak with." Her gaze raked over Thatcher.
"Were either of your parents blessed?" Miria asked. Her voice was gentler than the others, but no less pointed.
Thatcher shot me a confused look. The kind that clearly askedwhat the fuck is going on here?
"No," I said quickly, before he could respond. "Neither of our parents were blessed."
It wasn’t exactly a lie. It’s not like she asked if our parents weregods.
Nyvora's laugh whistled past us, but there was nothing musical about the sound. "That's rather hard to believe, seeing the level of your ability."
Fire crawled up my throat. "Well, I don’t know what to tell you." My voice snapped.Fuck.Steady. I had to stay steady. "I just mean to say, we don’t know much about the blessed."
Xül shifted. Just a slight adjustment, fingers repositioning on his armrest. But my spine turned to ice anyway.
No one else seemed to pay attention. Nyvora had already turned her gaze on Thatcher.
"Your sister is claiming you don't share her gifts."
"That's correct," Thatcher said, his voice calmer than mine had been. "I was not blessed."
Kavik cocked his head to the side. "A shame. Your sister here was quite impressive."
"You're both quite appealing to look at," Elysia observed. “So at least there’s that.”
"Sometimes gifts can lay dormant," Drakor suggested, his voice carrying menace.
I stepped forward, desperation making me reckless. "We're both twenty-six. If he had powers, they would have manifested by now."
"It's not completely unheard of," Drakor replied smoothly, his smile all teeth. "Or do you believe yourself to know more about divine blessing than I do?"
I wanted to spit in his face. Tell him exactly what I thought of hisdivineblessing. But I bit my tongue.
"Of course not," I managed, the words coming out flat and lifeless.
Drakor rose from his throne with fluid grace, descending the steps like a nightmare given form. He circled us slowly.
"Tell me, boy," he said, stopping directly in front of Thatcher. "Have you ever felt... different? Ever experienced moments where the world seemed to respond to your will?"
"No," Thatcher said firmly. "Nothing like that."
"Curious." Drakor resumed his prowling. "Twins, born of the same blood, raised in the same circumstances—yet so unequally gifted."
