The fate of an entire world will be decided by the actions of one magical young girl.
The Guardians of Siaris have been warring for thousands of years, torn apart by betrayal and lost loves. Xereth waits patiently for his chance at revenge. The only thing standing in his way is one of his own offspring.
As Xereth's daughter, Revetia is destined to help him destroy Siaris and those who wronged him, but Revetia's will is strong. With hope and help, she might be able to break free from Xereth's tight and treacherous clasp, but at what price?
Sier has always tried to stay out of affairs that threaten his family's safety. When Revetia asks him for help, she forces him into a position that could cost his family, the elden, and humans their lives. Is he prepared to put those he loves and protects in jeopardy?
With the fate of Siaris resting on Revetia's shoulders, will her actions trigger a war between gods, slaves and Guardians?
The baby blinked, trying to clear her eyes. The dim space around her lay in a chilled hush. A strip of light filtered across the torn covers surrounding her, over an expanse of pale skin flecked with red. A long growl sounded from outside the room's shadowed walls.
Wind, the baby named it.
She'd heard it -- and other things -- from inside her mother's belly. Now it sounded much louder, and unfriendly. She wanted to reach for the curve of flesh beside her, but couldn't yet control her limbs. Her mother didn't move. The silence of the room, the gale's rush at the chamber, grew frightening. She shivered, a naked bundle of feverish heat and ice. She began to cry. The wind fought her voice, but she needed someone to come. Anyone.
Time dragged. The light around her stuttered and grew dull. Her hearing picked up a new sound, cautious steps husking along the hall outside the turret-room, until they came to a halt. A seamed face peered through a rectangle of darkness. Fingers clutched at the edge of a wooden frame, then jerked back as if they'd been stung. The fingers fluttered down over a worn tunic, shaking. The sound of rough breathing met the baby as a woman stepped into the room and edged closer to her.
The woman's face shriveled into deeper lines, her gaze roving across the bed. The picture in her mind reflected into the baby's vision in all its blood-soaked destruction. An elden woman lying on the shredded velvet cover, the ragged vestiges of beauty still visible through the contortion of her features. Smoke coiling in wisps from her hips and thighs, hanging thick on the air. The baby saw herself curled in a pool of light. Already, despite being so tiny, the sheen of power that had killed her mother during birth glowed out across the bed.
The baby noted her own skin was different to her mother's. Blue. She felt the word fit itself to her...that this was her natural shade. But even so, couldn't the bent figure creeping closer see her shock, the crisis gripping her body with shudders?
The intruder's breath hissed. Her stare now settled on the glittering wings that rustled against the baby's back, the downy feathers catching in the rumpled bed cover. The baby studied her, and saw that she was elden too, but diminished, improperly aged. The silence grew long, the gale's voice harsh. The baby huddled desperately, and fought to focus her mind on this person who still hadn't come to her side.
She formed a question in her mind, and forced it across the gap. Who are you?
"My name is Amya." The woman's voice sounded strangled, as if her throat had jammed shut.
Are you my -- the baby searched for the word -- nurse?
Amya didn't reply. Her damp gaze had shifted back to the body on the bed.
- Word Count: 90,000
- Author: Joanna Fay
- Heat Level: 2
- ISBN: 978-1-61937-224-5
- Cover Artist: Kelly Shorten
- Editor: Jessica Robinson