Chapter Thirteen
"Well, this is fucking awkward."
Leave it to Simon to cut through a silence so awkward, you'd need a chainsaw to get through it. He was right, of course. Because we were all standing in the living room of my house. By all, I mean it was me, Alaric, Simon, and Rowan. Alaric was totally hairy eyeballing Rowan and Simon, but he wasn't jumping on the wagon to hurt them either, which I appreciated. Same went for Rowan and Simon. Simon was clearly uncomfortable, but Rowan was doing his best to remain civil. As usual.
"Well, then let's get down to business," I said, leaning on the wall by the archway to the living room, "First of all, we're clearly not just dealing with Viviana, like we originally thought. We're dealing with someone who might be in cahoots with her." Rowan frowned at that folding his arms over his chest, standing near the television and dwarfing the fifty inch plasma.
"I don't know of anyone like that, though. Someone who's so good at shapeshifting that no one picked up on it? And wait, didn't Viviana recognize the meeting she had with Xiphrus? It doesn't make any sense. Nothing is adding up," he explained, looking at me. I nodded in agreement. Out the corner of my eye, I spotted Alaric staring at Rowan intently. Like, he was trying to figure something out.
And I started to sweat a little.
Fuck. He was gonna find out Rowan and I did a lip lock. And it wasn't even Rowan's fault. It was mine, because I was infected, something Alaric also didn't know and was going to find out when I cut myself or broke my nose or, hell, even a papercut. I wasn't sure why I hadn't even told him yet. It was necessary. It wasn't like an STI, so he wasn't gonna catch it from me, but shit. He had a right to know that I was flooded with black goo that smelled like butterscotch.
"What about Tatiana," I asked, making Rowan raise an eyebrow, "Is she a shapeshifter?"
"She's a succubus," Simon answered, and everyone looked at him, but he held up his hands, "I don't know that from experience. I know because she gets her daily feed in the castle."
"With who?" I asked. Wasn't he the one who told me shadows didn't feed that urge?
"Who do you think," Simon returned. I stared at him for a full minute before it hit me like a truck. I remembered all the times I was with Tatiana. Her focus was entirely on Viviana, Viviana who would sneak little touches here and there, a kiss once in awhile. I thought she treated all her kids that way, but I guess some were just a little more special than others.
"Oh," I stated.
"Yeah," Simon deadpanned. Like he was peeved that Tatiana got special treatment and he hadn't. Seemed Viviana was playing favorites.
"Anyway," Rowan drawled, "As far as I know, she has no shapeshifters near her, probably for that matter. And that still doesn't explain how she knew about meeting Xiphrus, even though she never did."
"Are you sure she herself can't shapeshift?" Alaric asked. Rowan nodded.
"She's color blind, tritanopia to be specific. There's no way she'd be able to shapeshift into someone else perfectly. And besides, there's some genetics that play into it. She doesn't have the one to shapeshift, putting it bluntly," he explained. Alaric pursed his lips tight, rubbing at the back of his neck, like he was struggling to come up with an explanation for everything, but he was as stumped as the rest of us.
"The books," Rowan said after a moment, making me look up, "Maybe the books will explain it. If only we knew where they were." Alaric looked at him curiously, then turned to me.
"You mean the books you brought back with you? Xiphrus has them," he said. Rowan looked at me and I stared back at him, grimacing.
"Of course he fucking does. Because my life isn't hard enough as it is," I grunted, reaching up to wipe a hand down my face. Alaric gave me a droll stare, but he didn't nag me this time, much to my relief. He just patted my arm. Rowan looked less than thrilled by the prospect of meeting Xiphrus.
"Normally I'd suggest you go on your own," he said, and I muttered the word traitor under my breath that made Rowan shrug, "However. There may be things you cannot translate that I can."
"How could you translate it? You weren't born during that period," I muttered. Rowan didn't answer. I looked at him for a while longer, then felt my expression pinch with confusion.
"You weren't around during my time," I said again, more clearly. Rowan still didn't say anything. Now he just stared across the room at me and I stared back. I was trying to cope with what that silence meant. It couldn't be possible. I'd pick up on it. I'd know. I'd recognize him. There weren't many of us during that time and we all knew one another. There was no way Rowan could've gotten by without my knowing.
"Who the hell are you?" I asked, taking a step forward. Alaric took my arm to keep me from doing anything physical, and frankly he didn't have to. Even I knew that beating the shit out of Rowan wasn't going to give me an answer. Simon was eyeing Rowan out the corner of his eye, his arms folded over his chest.
"Damn," he commented, "So you're an old guy too then. Like, really old."
"I never said I was or wasn't," Rowan answered coolly. I looked at Rowan, who looked back at me. There was something so familiar about him, but I'd passed it off as simply the fact that we somehow ended up good friends. Even though we just met, it'd felt like we'd known each other for years. And apparently, we literally knew each other for years. Eons, apparently. And yet, I couldn't put my finger on what made him so familiar.
But I knew someone who would recognize him right on the spot.
"Fine," I stated, "Can't believe I'm saying this, but time to visit Xiphrus." Alaric raised an eyebrow. Rowan didn't agree or deny the offer. But there was something about the way his eyes seemed to narrow for a split second, seem to implode with anxiety, that told me things were about to get sticky. And yet, he didn't offer to stay put or anything, just inclined his head after a moment of silence. Simon shrugged and looked back at me.
I came into the center of the room and held my hand out. Alaric took my hand, followed by Simon, then Rowan laid his hand out on top. Together as one, we teleported from my house in Hell to Xiphrus's in Heaven. Once upon a time, the guy lived in Atlantis as Hannibal's private guard, but since he'd hooked up with Michael, he'd moved in with him and the two lived in a quaint little neighborhood in Heaven.
It looked totally out of whack for all of us, decked out in fighting clothes, to appear on the street among cute cottage style houses with flower beds and children playing with puppies. Everything was so flowery and warm, the sunlight a buttery glow instead of an intense shine. The house Xiphrus and Michael lived in was a small two story Tudor style with a door painted bright green.
I let Alaric lead the way, because I still didn't want to be that close to Xiphrus. Especially now. In fact, the moment we approached the door, my anxiety decided to rev its filthy engine and drive adrenaline through my system. My lungs clenched tight, expanded hard, clenched tight, expanded hard. I was a combination of wanting to get behind Alaric and wanting to put him behind me to protect him. Instead, I forced myself to stand perfectly still.
Logically I knew Xiphrus wasn't going to just attack out of the blue, and especially not Alaric since the guys were apparently best buds now or some shit. But there was the roaring rear that maybe, just maybe, Xiphrus would decide the beast needed some exercise.
Alaric knocked, but it sounded like someone banging on a gong inside my head. My chest started to hurt, like I was breathing too hard. But when I glanced at everyone around me, they seemed calm and didn't appear to notice the panic attack that was starting to rear its ugly head. I slammed my eyes shut, pursing my lips.
Come on. Calm the fuck down. Don't be a pussy. You spent a couple days with him before. Why can't you spend a couple hours with him now?
Because he attacked me after those couple days and had me in a coma in the hospital for what? A month? Two months? I couldn't remember. I took a deep, shaky breath and opened my eyes. Alaric was turning to look at me in concern, but the door opened up and he was turning back around to greet Xiphrus, who filled up the whole damn doorway like a bear. My heart slammed against my breastbone and I took a step back, but bumped into Rowan, who caught me before I could knock him over.
"I can't do this," I said suddenly, whipping back around and shoving past Rowan and Simon to get to the street. Even though I was outside and no one was crowding me, I felt like I was suffocating, like I was trapped in a tight little box with no way out. I felt sweat working its way down the back of my neck and down my shirt, my lungs cramping for oxygen. I bent over, gasping for breath as I put my hands on my knees.
Jesus fuck. What the hell was wrong with me? I couldn't take it. I couldn't handle being so close to him. I couldn't handle him looking at me. I didn't want to be near him. It was like my body physically sensed the danger and was forcing me to get away from him.
I felt a hand on my back and jumped, startled, only to see that it was Alaric looking up at me, his hand rubbing a slow soothing circle on my back. I felt my muscles loosen up a little and I focused on his face, on those intense hazel eyes that knew everything about me. In fact, I wouldn't doubt it if Alaric knew more about me than I did. I gathered him up in my arms and held him and he put his arms around me, rubbing his hands on my back to calm me down.
I risked taking a peek over at the house. Simon and Rowan were giving us privacy, just looking around at anything that wasn't us. Xiphrus was still in the doorway, staring right at me, his expression wilted like a flower that had been stepped on. I slammed my eyes shut again, burying my face against Alaric's hair, inhaling the scent of him as I tried to bring myself down to a state of tolerance.
"I'm sorry," I said through clenched teeth.
"Don't ever be sorry," Alaric murmured back to me, kissing the side of my head before he pulled back to look up at me, taking my face in his hands, "None of it is your fault, baby. Do you understand?" I tried to. There was still a part of me that wanted to find a rational explanation for why Xiphrus had attacked me all those times, but not everything was rational. I had to accept that. I had to accept that chaos was a part of life. I just wish it was easier.
I nodded instead of answering. Alaric rubbed my shoulders for a moment, then took me by the hand and led the way back over to the door. I kept a good distance from Xiphrus, though. He just watched me, like he wanted to say something, but knew better than to try. Instead, he peeled his eyes away from me at last to look at Alaric.
"What's going on?" He asked at last, his voice soft.
"We need to look at those books that you brought back from Viviana's. We've discovered something unsettling and we're hoping the books will have the answers," Alaric explained. Xiphrus nodded and stepped aside to let us in. Thankfully, he gave us plenty of space as I managed to get by without touching him. Alaric still held tight on my hand, squeezing my hand every so often, almost like he knew when the panic was starting to ride up my spine again. His hand squeezing mine was enough to remind me that we had a job to do, that this wasn't the time for me to panic, and that there was no need to.
The door shut behind us and Xiphrus led us into a cozy fluffy looking living room, the kind of thing that was every bookworm's dream. Speaking of bookworm, Michael was curled up on the sofa across the room, wearing a loose flowy white tank top and black lounge pants, a pair of black plastic rimmed glasses sitting in front of those sapphire eyes that scanned a page of an ancient book. Those eyes lifted to lock on us, and immediately narrowed in distaste when they met me. I glared back at him.
As if I was afraid of some kind of pampered little prince.
Kiss my ass.
"They came to look at the books as well," Xiphrus said, making Michael rake us with the kind of look you gave a bunch of cockroaches in the corner of his kitchen.
"We've been going over them for nearly a month," Michael said at last, using his finger to save his place in the book that he closed his lap, and he reached up to push his glasses up on top of his head, "I highly doubt they have something that could help us." Alaric gave him a droll look.
"Don't be like that," he said, and Michael just put his nose in the air even further, "We actually do have some information... There's another player in this game." Michael immediately frowned and set the book aside, taking his glasses off and setting them on top of the book while Xiphrus came around to look at us. I caught movement out the corner of my eye, noticing Rowan taking up a position behind Simon, keeping his head down and watching Xiphrus closely. I frowned, glancing back over at Xiphrus, who didn't even seem to notice Rowan.
"Another player?" Michael asked for confirmation.
"The person you met wasn't Viviana," Alaric told Xiphrus, who blinked in confusion, "It was someone else. Viviana apparently cannot shapeshift. She's color blind."
"That explains a lot," Michael deadpanned.
"I don't understand," Xiphrus said slowly, "When I met her in her castle, she acted like we had met that day in the hallway outside the meeting. She gave me back my memories of the place. What makes you say this?"
"This guy," Alaric said, gesturing with his thumb to Rowan, who awkwardly averted his eyes, "He told us Viviana was colorblind. She can't see correctly to shapeshift. And he makes a good point, shapeshifters have the best sight of any creature I know. They have to, in order to copy images they see." Xiphrus looked over at Rowan, then frowned.
"I know you," he stated. Rowan shook his head.
"It couldn't have been Viviana who met with you, or went to Stanton's hospital room--"
"No, I do know-- Wait, what? She went to your hospital room?" Xiphrus demanded, looking at me. I grimaced, glancing at Rowan and wishing he'd shut up and quit drawing attention to me, but he seemed happy to lose the spotlight for the time being.
"No, that's just it, she didn't," I said, "Someone else did. Someone who can shapeshift. They took Raven's form and came to tell me Alaric was calling everything off between us. It has to be someone who's seen him before, and someone who's seen Viviana too. Someone who's so good at what they do that not even you or I could detect the falsity." Xiphrus stared at me, but he wasn't seeing me. I could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to figure it out.
"Did you find anything similar to that in the books?" Alaric asked Michael, who frowned.
"Not exactly," he muttered, then took his glasses off the book and replaced them on his face as he picked up another book nearby and flipped it open, the old parchment pages creaking as he turned them, "There is something about something that changes its form, but it's not specified as a shapeshifter."
"It wouldn't be specified," I responded, making him glance up at me, "Back then, shapeshifters were only limited to two or three creatures. They weren't an entire species just yet. We had no word for them."
"That makes it clearer," Michael said with a nod, finding a spot and touching his finger to the page, "This says something about a creature that takes the form of those who suffer. It has no name, no starting form. It just... is." Xiphrus looked over and came over to sit down beside him to peer over his shoulder at the page. The rest of us took up the rest of the room, Alaric and I going to the sofa that sat opposite Xiphrus and Michael. Simon had dragged a chair in from the dining room, earning a quick glare from Michael, and Rowan sat on the arm of the sofa beside me.
He was looking awfully twitching, Rowan. Every so often he'd glance at Xiphrus, and Xiphrus would look up as if sensing his gaze, but Rowan would pretend to be interested in the book he had in his hands. Definitely something weird going on, but we didn't have time to deal with it.
I could see why it took Michael a whole month to get through just one book.
Everything was complicated. Even though the First language had been designed to be simplistic and easy, it was far too basic for the complex language we'd developed since then. Some things didn't even translate right. I knew what it was, Xiphrus knew what it was, and clearly so did Rowan, but we couldn't describe it to others. There was just no translation for it in English or Greek, not even Latin.
"So," Alaric said after a while of staring at one of the books, clearly not understanding the language in the least, "This thing is a shape shifter of some kind. Is it an original? Since not even you guys can pick up on it?" Xiphrus glanced at me and I frowned. How weird was it that I spent all these eons hating everyone and I couldn't even remember that basic information.
"I don't remember any kind of creature like that. The only shapeshifters I knew of were my brother, the ancestor of the werewolf, and my cousin, the ancestor of shapeshifters. I think there was one another, but it's been so long..." My voice trailed. I couldn't remember my brother's or my cousin's name. How fucking twisted was that. Xiphrus nodded slowly.
"Yes. Lupin, Agregus, and the final was a dragon shifter. Kilius." Oh sure, he remembered their names.
"It's not Agregus?" Alaric asked.
"He died," I deadpanned. Alaric mouthed "oh" and looked back down at the book. I glanced at Xiphrus, who dropped his eyes. I may not remember Agregus's name, but I know for a fact Xiphrus had killed him during the first war. I decided now wasn't the best time to shove that particular fun fact down his throat and went back to scanning the book.
I scanned the book over Alaric's shoulder, my eyes latching onto something that sounded familiar.
"Hey," I said, reaching out and taking the book, making Alaric raise an eyebrow, and everyone else looked up, "It mentions Viviana specifically here. She who bleeds black and smells of flowers, who feeds on beauty and love. Female of height and sexuality, of darkness. She who runs hope through her veins."
"What?" Alaric asked, sounding baffled.
"That makes sense," Simon jumped in, and he got some weird looks, "What? Look, you can say what you want about Viviana. She's crazy, she's fucking weird, she's got a really weird way of doing things, but she gave us a second chance. She's giving us a way to move on."
"It's not really moving on if you're still dwelling in the darkness enough to affect you on a physical and biological level," Alaric explained dryly. Simon shrugged.
"But it worked. She gave us hope."
"That's because she is hope," I stated, and heads snapped back toward me as I read from the book, translating the best way I could, "She represents beauty and hope, rebirth and resurrection. She is the sunshine after a storm. She lives in love."
"She doesn't sound like the bad guy when you put it like that," Alaric pointed out. Michael nodded in agreement. Xiphrus was still frowning, though, as he stood up and came over. I tensed for a moment, and he hesitated. He held his hand out for the book instead and I held it out to him. He took it and balanced it on his arm as he scanned the pages.
"You're right," he muttered in disbelief, "She's hope. As Satanika is Love, Starkin was Hate, Viviana is Hope."
"Well, that's fucking weird as hell," Alaric said. I nodded in agreement. Xiphrus scanned the book some more.
"She was never given a proper vessel. The Source, the Greatness, the Creator, the Void of Cosmos, felt not to give her unto its creations for fear they would corrupt her. Unfortunately, Hope is watchful and opportunistic. She will not be contained," he read aloud in translation. Alaric glanced at me and I looked back, both of us thinking yeah, that worked out well. Even the Source knew Viviana would leave one day. You couldn't contain something that didn't want to be contained.
"So, Viviana is here," I said, "She's with us, but she's not the person we've been dealing with. At least, not all the time, right?"
"Maybe not even at all," Rowan muttered, and he met my eyes, "Something always seemed weird about her, and I don't just mean the obvious. I mean that something was off. Her goals were. Granted, I believe she wanted to help us and bring us together into one big family, but there's more to it than that. This plan of hers doesn't make sense. It doesn't match up with who she is."
"And what's her great plan?" I asked. Rowan shook his head.
"Even I don't know that. I only run the errands she tells me to do," he answered.
"What kind of errands?" I asked. Rowan didn't answer. I stared back at him. Oh, come on. He wasn't seriously holding out on me now of all times. We had shit to figure out. We had to know what Viviana was up to, and who was involved with her, screwing things up. It could affect all of us, if not the whole universe.
"I know you," Xiphrus said again, making Rowan avert his eyes.
"Actually, can we figure that out, because it's bugging me too," Alaric admitted. Michael raised an eyebrow, looking up at Rowan, then at Xiphrus. Then back again. He glanced over at me, then back at Xiphrus before popping both brows up.
"You're related," Michael stated, and Xiphrus looked at him, confused, "Genetics. You all have the same lips, the same nose. The same dimple in your cheeks. That's a dominant genetic trait." Xiphrus snapped his head back to look at Rowan, who was slowly pushing up off the arm of the sofa, like he was preparing to make a quick exit. I glared at him, getting up.
"You knew," I accused, making Rowan drop his eyes, "You knew all this time." Xiphrus stared at Rowan, like he was awed and amazed, and maybe a little terrified. After all, the last son he met that was still alive hated his guts. And still did. Working on that, though. Just not finding much progress at the moment.
"Who are you?" Xiphrus asked, his voice a whisper. Rowan kept his eyes on the floor, like he was afraid of looking up, and slowly those eyes lifted again, locking on Xiphrus's.
"My name is Rowan. That's all you need to know," he started, but I'd had about enough of him playing games. I grabbed him by the front of his silk shirt and slammed him up against the nearby wall, making Michael curse and shoot to his feet, probably more worried about his wall than the fact that we were fighting. Xiphrus moved toward me, then hesitated when Alaric grabbed his arm and shook his head. Meanwhile, Simon just leaned back in his seat, watching with an arched brow. I had no doubt if he had popcorn, he'd be devouring that shit like he was watching a movie.
"Stop fronting," I snapped in Rowan's face, his black eyes gleaming, "Now is not the time to withhold something, man. If you know something, you need to tell us. Right now. And that includes who the fuck you are and how you're related to us." Rowan pursed his lips tight, not reacting to my violence. He just glared back at me, daring me to beat the shit out of him and I was more than happy to do so. I drew my fist back to break his nose, but a strong grip caught my fist and I turned to see Xiphrus had grabbed hold of me.
"Don't," Xiphrus said softly, "Please, don't hurt him." I gritted my teeth, yanking my fist out of his grasp, turning back to Rowan, who frowned as he looked past me at Xiphrus.
"I know who he is," Xiphrus murmured and I loosened my grip on Rowan, turning to look at Xiphrus with a frown, watching his icy blue eyes search Rowan's face, "We know him as Nhyt." I froze at that. Nhyt? Loosely translated, it meant "ruler of stars and darkness", or to sum it up... He was the deity of night. The very first deity of night. He was created about the same time I was, because the universe needed nighttime, needed darkness. Xiphrus was the one who'd created him, so that the universe would have a channel through which to see the Source.
In a nutshell, the guy was my brother.
I released Rowan immediately and took a step back from him. Xiphrus was completely rigid, his jaw locked tight, a tic working in his cheek, and his icy blue eyes gleaming like he wanted nothing more than to go to Rowan, but he knew better. Because Rowan was staring back at him with a less than inviting stare.
"How?" I heard myself ask. Because honestly, how the fuck did he survive? How did he live this long without my knowing? Was there anymore of us out there? Had he just not wanted to look for me?
"It doesn't matter," Rowan spoke carefully, "This information is not helpful to any of us. We need to focus on the task at hand. What errands Viviana sends me on has nothing to do with this. I'd tell you if I thought it would help."
"You can't just shut me down like this," I said angrily, "I lived all these years thinking everyone carrying his blood was dead. I thought I was alone." Rowan looked at me, and shit, the more I looked at him, the more ill I became because I could see it. I could see bits of Xiphrus in his face, could see part of my reflection staring back at me. I hadn't noticed it before. Hadn't thought about it. I'd completely written off the idea of anyone else being out there.
"As did I," Rowan answered me quietly, making me frown, "I don't want to talk about it right now. Like I said, it has nothing to do with Viviana and whoever this shapeshifter is that's posing as her. And clearly trying to separate you from your husband."
"Why would anyone want to separate you?" Xiphrus asked, suddenly, turning to look at Alaric and I.
"No idea," I muttered, "The shifter came as Raven to me in the hospital, told me Alaric wanted nothing to do with me. It even went as far as to send me a text. But Alaric said he never did any of those things. So why would breaking us up have anything to do with some kind of universal plan?"
"Wait," Michael blurted, and everyone turned to him as he sat up straighter, bringing his glasses back down over his eyes as he scanned the book in his hands, "This passage. It says something about separating Death from Life." Talk about a mindfuck. Death from Life. Alaric was my life. Fuck, it was even part of my vows to him when we got married.
"But, what does that have to do with any of this?" I asked.
"No, listen," Michael said, his eyes scanning the pages, "Afterwards comes the other weird sentences. Things like opening the doors to the monster. Fresh blood of the first born male. The voice of a winged songbird. The skies of a god. There's more here too. Destruction of evil. Creation reborn. But it's in a very specific order. It's set up like... like some kind of recipe."
"A recipe?" I asked, confused.
"For a spell?" Alaric asked.
"A prophecy," Xiphrus cursed, making us look at him, "It's how we wrote down prophecies given unto us by the Source."
"Another fucking prophecy?" I demanded. The last one had been a bitch to bring about, considering Anexius had intervened and sent the Atlanteans away, and Atlan had sent Hannibal on a shitstorm ride through life. It was a prophecy we'd been waiting for since the beginning of time, and had only just now fulfilled. The idea of dealing with another one of the Source's stupid games gave me fucking heartburn.
"Wait, so what's all part of this prophecy? List everything in order," I commanded. Because if there was one thing I should remember from the past, it was the countless books Xiphrus piled up in my house. I'd definitely read the prophecies. I may not remember the deets, but there was no way I could forget the names of the prophecies.
"It starts with the son gifted by the deaths of its creators. Return of the beginning. The key's salvation. Creation's heart reborn. Destruction of broken evil. Separate the hands of Death and Life. Open the doors of the monster. Fresh blood of the first born male. The voice of a winged songbird. The skies of a god. The broken heart of the cursed. Death of Hope." Michael looked up and I frowned, because that didn't sound entirely familiar. At least, not at first.
"Shit," Alaric breathed into the silence.
"What?"
"Those things have already happened, some of them anyway," he said, and when we just stared at him blankly, he took a deep breath and stood up, "Think about it. Son gifted by the deaths of its creators... Hades. Hades absorbed the power of his parents when they died. Return of the beginning?"
"The Atlanteans," Simon spoke up, "The return of the beginning. They were here since the beginning and only came back because someone lifted the curse on them."
"And the key's salvation," Xiphrus murmured, "Menoetius. He is the Key of Atlantis. He united with his other half. He found salvation."
"And Creation's heart reborn?" I asked. Xiphrus looked at me.
"Joxeia. He fell in love again. His love was reborn. His heart was mended."
"That's awfully vague," I muttered, but didn't argue because it was the only thing that could really make sense.
"And the destruction of broken evil," Alaric muttered, "Atlan."
"How is he broken evil, though?" I asked dryly. Last I checked, the guy was totally spot on in terms of being the most evil motherfucker to walk the realms. I glanced over at Xiphrus, who was staring down at the floor before he looked over at Michael, who stared back at him with concern on his face.
"He was broken," Xiphrus said, his voice hoarse, then he cleared his throat and averted his eyes, "Atlan didn't know what he was doing, why he was driven to do it. He wanted to make the world a good place, a place he believed would be good and perfect. His evil was misplaced. Broken. As he was."
"And the destruction is his death," Michael said softly.
"So now we're at separating the hands of Death and Life," Rowan concluded, "Making sure Stanton and Alaric break apart." Alaric and I looked at each other, and without really thinking about it, I took his hand in mine and he squeezed my palm.
"For the record," I told him, watching him smile faintly, "They're gonna have to pry my cold dead hand from yours, if they think they can separate us." Alaric leaned in close to me, putting his hand on my chest, tilting his head up to give me a kiss on the underside of my chin. I held him close to me as Michael looked back down at the book.
"And the other ones?"
"Doesn't matter," I said, turning to look at him, "We're stopping them, whoever they are, right here, right now. Alaric and I aren't going anywhere. And if that prophecy has to be done in a specific order, then we're fine."
"There's more than one way to separate you two now," Rowan pointed out, pushing away from the wall and making us look up, "They tried to break you up nicely. Whoever wants to put this prophecy into motion will do anything to make it so. Even if it means killing one or the other." I hesitated, because I hadn't considered it. I looked at Alaric, who looked back at me. We squeezed our hands together tightly.
Anyone comes near Alaric and I'll personally damn their soul to the darkest depths of the Source.