Total pages in book: 362
Estimated words: 347293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1736(@200wpm)___ 1389(@250wpm)___ 1158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 347293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1736(@200wpm)___ 1389(@250wpm)___ 1158(@300wpm)
At the end of the day, though, none of that should affect me like it was because it was…
I closed my eyes, still able to hear Ash shout, “Stop saying that nothing happened!” He had been wrong, though. In comparison, what I had experienced was nothing.
But as I stood there, I wondered what I would say to someone else if they’d experienced what I had. Would I tell them it was nothing? Would I even think that?
But I should be different.
I had to be.
Because I couldn’t let this be my ruination, and that was exactly what it felt like.
Awareness throbbed through me, drawing me from my thoughts. I tilted my head and listened. I didn’t hear any footsteps, but even though Ash was shockingly quiet for someone his size, I knew it wasn’t him.
Tiny hairs rose on the back of my neck as I turned. A shock of surprise ran through me as I saw the God of Dreams, dressed in black, standing in the doorway.
Dark hair shielded his face as he bowed. “I did not mean to startle you, meyaah Liessa.”
“It’s all right.” I watched the oneirou straighten. Despite him staying at the palace, this was the first time I’d seen him since Kyn was here, and I kept forgetting that he was here.
“A library,” he remarked curiously. Those startling eyes that bordered on amethyst swept over the chamber before returning to me. “May I?”
I nodded, reminding myself of what Ash had warned me before I even got the urge to read the god.
“Thank you.” Thierran entered, once more eyeing the tomes lining the shelves.
After an awkward moment of silence, I found my manners. “I hope your stay at the palace has been pleasant.”
“It has been, for the most part.”
Hearing his response, I was a little taken aback. “For the most part?”
“I have not slept well here.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.
“Apology accepted.”
I managed to stop the laugh before it escaped. I didn’t know if I should be insulted or amused.
“The doors to this space have always been closed,” Thierran spoke. “So, I wondered if it was another sitting chamber or something more exciting.”
“I imagine discovering that it is only a library is disappointing.”
His laugh was soft—airy, even—as he walked along the rows of books. “Quite the opposite, meyaah Liessa. I’ve always found libraries enjoyable.”
“Then you must prefer the peace of one,” I guessed, noting the sheathed daggers on each of his forearms.
“Typically.” He stopped halfway, dark brows furrowing. “Though I’m not sure I would find this one all that peaceful. There’s a…sadness to it.”
Once again, a wave of surprise rippled through me. “There is.”
“My awareness of such has caught you off guard.”
“It has.” I quickly racked my brain for what knowledge it contained on the oneirou as he began walking again.
“All oneirou—what is left of us, that is—are sensitive to…impressions left behind. Emotions leave an imprint,” he shared, his attention shifting to the candlelit portraits. “Especially extreme ones.”
My gaze followed his to the painting of Mycella. Ash’s mother and Aios were cousins, so either her aunt or uncle was from Kithreia. I knew Mycella wasn’t from there, though.
“Mycella was from Lotho,” I said.
Thierran nodded.
“Many who live near Mount Lotho are gifted with unique talents. Walking in dreams. Prophesizing.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Sensing emotion.”
“And manipulating it?”
“That, too.” He turned back to the paintings. “Mycella’s father was an oneirou, one of the oldest. From what I knew of her, she could not enter other’s dreams, but she could read emotions and control them if she so wished.” He paused. “She passed down half of those abilities to her son.”
“She did.”
“The oneirou blood is strong, though. Known to skip a generation, only to reappear again,” he said. “If you and Nyktos were to have a child, it’s quite possible they would have the same abilities as Nyktos, or even those of his mother’s father.”
My heart skipped a beat as his words tugged at a memory. Something I should have remembered—
“But that’s neither here nor there.” Thierran faced me. “When we first met, you tried to read me.”
Tension crept into my neck. “I did.”
One side of his lips turned up, pulling the scar on his left cheek taut. “You failed.”
“Correct.” My shoulders squared. “I didn’t try it on purpose. It sort of just happened. However, I didn’t exactly attempt to stop myself from doing it either.”
He stared at me for what felt like an entire minute. “Your honesty is refreshing. Besides your husband, who is still very young…” It was odd hearing him say that, considering he looked the same age as Ash. “Most Primals tend to be untruthful, even when it is not necessary. Which is amusing since the Ancients could not lie.” His head cocked. “Did Nyktos tell you how I was scarred?”
“He did not.” The swift change of subject left me a little unsettled. His unflinching stare was far more unnerving, though. “But I figured Kolis was responsible.”