Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 116263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
He sent a glance my way.
I wondered what he thought when he looked at me.
When he caught sight of my black hair and my eyes, which were the palest gray.
An unnatural gray that should never exist.
Ice cold and raging with fire.
When he contemplated the fact that I looked nothing like their other children—or like anyone else they had ever met, for that matter.
But it was more than just the strange color of my eyes. There was an energy I emitted, as if I’d brought a remnant of the supernatural with me into the human realm. Most got an unsettled sense whenever I came into the room. It was rare someone didn’t shy away from it when they met me, or at least try to take a closer look to discern what was different about me.
I so often wondered how my parents couldn’t see it. How they refused to believe.
I carried the toast to the table and set it in the middle.
“Thank you,” Mom said.
“No problem.” I glanced to my right as I took a seat. “Morning, Dad.”
His gaze appraised. Speculation and distrust.
Apprehension crawled down my spine. I wasn’t afraid of him, but I was afraid that he would find out. That he could see right through me to what I had hidden under my sweater.
“Aria,” he grunted as he tucked himself closer to the table.
Mom took her seat next to him, though she had her attention on me. “What would you like to do to celebrate on Saturday, Aria?”
Before I had the chance to respond, her gaze coasted to Dad, her words filled with love and support and the remnants of the fear I was sure she would forever feel for me. “Can you believe it? We have a child who will be eighteen. How did that even happen?”
Air huffed from his nose as he reached out and grabbed a slice of toast. Annoyance curled through his voice. “We’re celebrating her now?”
Mom winced, though she lifted her chin. “It’s your daughter’s birthday, Cal. And she’s been doing great.”
She looked at me in what could only be construed as a plea. Begging me to be okay.
Cured.
Or at least medicated enough that I was no longer a threat to myself.
“Whatever you want to do is fine with me,” I forced out, hoping to avoid what she’d just said and what my father had implied.
All while my love for her bound my heart in a fist.
Devotion and loyalty.
But it was also riddled with the grievous knowledge that I would never be understood.
My life as a Laven would be an isolated, lonely one.
Pax’s face flashed behind my eyes.
My balm. My comfort. My Nol.
Forbidden.
But I would sacrifice it all for the small pieces of him that I would forever possess.
I crawled into bed that night. Exhaustion weighed me down, no doubt thanks to the wound that would take me at least a week to fully recover from, even though the scar would forever remain on my back.
Another of the many I was covered in.
Chest and stomach. Arms and legs. A jagged one that marred my right cheek.
I curled my arms around my pillow, and my spirit shivered, angling toward the one place where I truly belonged. Where I didn’t have to hide or pretend.
My eyelids fluttered, and my breaths shallowed out as I began to drift.
There was always a bare space in between. A sense of anticipation.
One of joy and fear and purpose.
Weightless.
Timeless.
Light and darkness flickered at the edges of my sight.
Then my soul flashed, and I flew.
Chapter Three
Aria
Tearsith
Aria appeared at the edge of the meadow. Peace echoed through her being, palpable and alive as she stood at the periphery of their sanctuary. Floral scents rose from the red vingas that sprouted from the fertile ground, tasting sweet on her tongue as she inhaled the comfort of this place.
Lush woods hugged the field, and light streamed through the leaves of the soaring trees surrounding Tearsith in a hedge of protection. It dappled the expansive clearing in natural warmth, in a comfort unlike anything found in another place.
The air was misty and written in a hue of silvered blue.
Here, it was a haven.
A moment’s harmony before they descended into the darkest place.
On the bank of the small brook with crystalline waters that ran along the far end of the meadow, her Laven family had begun to gather at their great teacher’s feet, the way they did each night. There were about two hundred of them, and through Ellis’s teachings, from his own vague understanding, it was believed there were many more Laven families spread over the world. Each drawn together by Valeen’s call on their lives.
They all donned the same uniform they appeared in each night, the material of the fitted pants and long-sleeved jacket brown and thick.
Aria paused as her attention sought out one thing.
She didn’t have to search. She was drawn, her heart and soul pulsing out to meet with the energy that rippled back.