Peace. That was something Myanin hadn’t felt in a long time, until now. It seemed like there’d been a hurricane raging inside of her for so long that she hadn’t even remembered what peace looked like or felt like. The song was the perfect representation of what Myanin had just experienced. It was what her own soul couldn’t put words to.
“You’ve found that grace, haven’t you?” Tenia asked.
Myanin nodded. “I have.” She wiped her face and pushed her hair back. “I’ve been so scared. I was seeing what I had become, and it was horrible, Tenia. If you could see inside me—”
“I’d see what resides in all of us,” Tenia interrupted. “The constant struggle between doing what we want and doing what is right.”
Myanin shook her head. “No, I was past that. My feet had been straddling some invisible line. The Great Luna standing on one side, and the life I was living on the other. I knew at some point I was going to have to move one of my feet one direction or the other. I couldn’t straddle the line forever. But fear held me still. I was frozen. Fear of the Great Luna seeing what I let myself become. Fear of what would happen.”
“And now?” Tenia asked, her eyes full of understanding.
Myanin was about to respond when she was suddenly struck by a massive blow to the head, or at least that’s what it felt like. When she opened her eyes, she was no longer sitting next to Tenia. Instead, she was standing in a room she didn’t recognize.
She glanced around and saw a woman pacing back and forth. The view wasn’t as crisp as if she were really physically in the place. There seemed to be a haze in the air, but Myanin could still see well enough. Myanin felt the distinct signature of powerful magic flowing from the woman, though she appeared human. At first, Myanin detected the magic of the warlock race. But the djinn could clearly see this woman was no warlock. She was too graceful, and in some ways, too human in her fidgeting, and regardless of the yellow eyes, she was something else. Then Myanin observed another kind of magic coming from the woman—that of the sprites.
Memories not her own assaulted Myanin. Unfortunately, they were a jumbled mess in the djinn’s mind. Apparently, that’s what happened when you took someone else’s magic and then messed with the current djinn history keeper. This must be what the Great Luna had said she’d need to use the magic for, then she could let it go. Myanin forced herself to focus because she truly did want to be rid of Lyra’s magic. She was able to surmise through the jumbled mess in her mind, however, that she was looking at the current warlock queen, the mate to Cypher, who had been slain alongside the Romanian alphas.
Myanin watched as the queen paced back and forth. She could see the woman’s face was full of grief. The pain in her eyes was so familiar to Myanin that it almost felt as if the djinn was looking in a mirror. It was exactly how she’d looked when she’d learned about Jezebel and Thadrick. Though she recognized the pain, she was relieved to realize that, for her, it was only an unwelcome memory.
“You can do this, Lilly,” the warlock queen whispered. “Just pull yourself together and take charge.”
The female was giving herself a pep talk. Myanin wondered how long the warlock queen had been sequestered away in this suite, probably the room she had shared with her mate. How long had she grieved? However long it had been, it didn’t seem to be helping. The female looked a mess.
With an expression of consternation, Lilly, as she’d called herself, stared at the phone in her hand. She looked at it as if it were her worst enemy. Several minutes ticked by. Finally, the woman hit a button and then held the phone to her ear. A moment later, Myanin heard a female voice answer. Sometimes supernatural hearing was quite handy.
“MOM!” The woman on the other end yelled so loud that Lilly pulled the phone away from her ear for a moment before returning it.
“Hey, Jacque,” Lilly said. Only two words, but Myanin heard a myriad of emotions warring with each other in the queen’s voice. She looked as if she might collapse under the weight of them. “I’m sorry I haven’t called,” she continued. “It’s been tough.”
“It’s okay,” Jacque replied. “I won’t pretend I understand, Mom. And I’m sorry if I’ve been a bother by proxy. I know Peri and Dad have bugged you. I just… I needed to hear your voice.”
“You’re never a bother, love,” Lilly said, her voice filled with warmth and truth. “Honestly, I’m just embarrassed. When your father left, I was heartbroken, but I could function, you know. This”—she paused and let out a shaky breath—“damn, Jacque. This isn’t even in the same realm of what I felt when I lost Dillon.”
“Cypher is your soul mate, mom,” Jacque said gently. “That’s not something you can just move on from. It might never stop hurting. Good grief. I sound like Peri. She sucks at pep talks, too. I just hope you understand you don’t have to feel ashamed. Humans have it easy. Their souls don’t get tied—literally—to one another. You thought you were human when you mated with Cypher. You aren’t human. You’re a sprite. And you said the Great Luna blessed your union. Your soul was as bound to Cypher’s as mine is
