The yellows and golds in Lucien’s eyes stirred, swirling and twisting around his pupils. Compassion stilled his features and he placed his hand on Eron’s chest. “This path has become harder than any of us would have imagined, but we must continue on course.”
“I only want to see my girls. I will not interfere with our plans.”
“You know it is not that simple. You’re still weak from your last trip—from ridding Nika of the sgath poison. You won’t be able to shield your passage, and Father will feel you cross over.”
“I’m strong enough.”
“No. You are not. Not yet. Father will kill you, and then what will happen to your daughters?”
Eron bowed his head over Lucien’s hand. He was right. They had so little time on Earth that none of the others could spare much to take care of his children.
They had their own to care for.
“I can’t do this anymore,” said Eron. “The cost is too great.”
“As it is to all of us, but reports show our predictions were right. The Synestryn are growing more powerful, and there are not enough Sentinels left to hold the gate. We must persevere.”
“So, you’re going back.” It wasn’t a question. Eron knew Lucien was more dedicated than all of them, no matter the personal cost. But then, he had more to lose here than any of them, should their plans fail.
“I am. Alone.”
Eron shook his head. “How can you continue to go back after knowing what my daughters have suffered?”
Lucien looked out at the moons, then down into the countryside, dotted with lights from the homes sprawled across it. “I go because it is the only way to save what we have here. The only way to protect my home. My family.” He looked back to Eron and his eyes were swirling with the golden fire of determination. “We must not fail.”
Eron sighed in resignation. Their path had seemed so glorious at first. So righteous.
But now . . . Eron pulled his most prized possession from the pouch hanging over his heart. The photograph of his woman and their three daughters was worn and faded, but he hardly needed it to remember the lines of his beloved Celine’s face or the sweet curve of his babies’ cheeks. The image was burned into his memory, where their happy faces and the knowledge that he’d failed them would live for eternity.
With a trembling hand, he handed the page to Lucien. “Will you seek them out for me? Find out if my baby girl escaped capture?”
Lucien looked at the image and gave a solemn nod. “I will try.”
“How many hours will you have there?”
“Nine. No more.”
Eron prayed it would be enough. “The summer always robs us of our time with them.”
Lucien shrugged. “It is how it must be.”
“I know. And I suppose I shouldn’t resent it so much anymore. Celine is gone and my time with her is over.”
“Maybe the humans are right, and their heaven does exist.”
“It is a beautiful notion—to be reunited with those we love to live in peace forever. Celine believed in it.” If anyone was deserving of such a fate, it was Eron’s beloved.
The sharp click of heels rushed down the hallway and Aurora slid around the corner. Her long, pale hair was mussed from her run, and a bright pink flush stained her cheeks. Her sunset-colored eyes were wide with fear, her soft lips parted to ease her labored breathing. Of all the women in their world, she was the most beautiful, and even Eron, whose heart belonged to another, had to pause for a moment whenever she entered the room. She was a servant, but as the most treasured possession of the Solarc, she knew more freedom than most.
She was also their most powerful ally.
“The Solarc comes,” she whispered.
Lucien stowed the photograph away in his jacket. “I must leave now. The gate will be aligned to open in a few more moments.”
“Go, then. I will stay here and distract Father. If you find my girls, give them my love.”
“I swear it.” Lucien’s eyes flared in the darkness, their swirling colors rioting in response to his vow. He cupped Aurora’s cheek and spoke in hushed, urgent tones. “The Solarc cannot know where I’ve gone, or our lives as well as those of our children on Earth would be forfeit. I won’t allow that to happen.”
She bowed her head. “Yes, Highness. I understand.”
Lucien left through a hidden doorway, and Eron turned to Aurora and held out his hand. “Come to me. We’ll distract Father and cover the signs of your sprint here all at once.”
Aurora went into his arms without hesitation. When Eron kissed her, she pretended to enjoy it as a good servant would, letting out a soft moan. Eron felt nothing. As beautiful as she was, she was not Celine. She didn’t smell like his Celine or taste like her. But he faked his response to their embrace all the same, knowing it would distract his father as nothing else could.
The lives of Eron’s children, if they still lived, depended upon it. If the Solarc knew his sons had broken his law, he would slaughter them all without regard to the fact that those children were his grandchildren as well.
Eron knew. He’d seen it happen before.
Paul was so sweet he made Andra cry, damn it. She wiped the tears away and pulled her rumpled jeans back up over her hips. She didn’t have time to cry. She had a sister to save.
Power pulsed inside her, making her skin feel as though it were glowing. The intimacy she’d shared with Paul had worked the way he said, and now she wanted to see whether she had the ability to help Nika. Or if maybe she needed another go-around in the grass with Paul.