The Seer's words dug themselves into my skull like rusted hooks. Save her and the world burns. Kill her and the world breaks. I'd heard riddles before — prophecies twisted by old magic and fear. But this one felt different. This one clung to my bones, refusing to let go.
Xavier said nothing at first. He just stood there, boots half-sunk in the mud, staring at the spot where the Seer had vanished. The storm hissed above us like a living thing, thunder rolling across the hills like the drumbeat of war.
"You don't believe that, do you?" he asked finally, voice low.
I didn't answer him. Not right away. I forced my eyes to the treeline, as if I might catch a glimpse of Victor slithering away with what was mine. The rain hit my face, cold and needling, but it didn't wash the dread from my chest.
"Damien."
Xavier's voice was harder now — Beta tone, not brother. I hated that he did that when I needed the opposite.
