“It only takes one person to change the future.” Selene lay silently with her head pressed against his chest. Damien slowly ran his fingers through her hair. “If you want to talk, I’m here.”

“Thank you,” she said in a small voice. “Right now, I just want to figure out who I am—what I am—and I need time to think.”

“I understand. I will give you all the time you need. I only ask one thing: May I share what we know about your gift when we meet with the other Great Houses in Lux Casta? I believe that knowledge could help us.”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation in her voice. “I’m done with secrets. I’m done with the hurt they cause.”

Damien leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of her head. His entire body filled with love for this woman in his arms. “I need to go,” he said quietly as he pulled away. “But I’ll see you tonight.”

He went to move from the bed when Selene reached over and grabbed his hand. “I’m not sure what you did in my dream, but thank you.”

He frowned as he looked back. “What I did?”

“When you went down on your knee. You made the Dark Lady go away.”

Damien sat back down. “I didn’t make her go away. The Dark Lady was right; I have no power in that place. I only interceded for you. The Light is the one who released you. Only the Light has the power in the dream world. The Light . . . and you. ”

She nodded and let go of his hand, her gaze in some faraway place.

Damien reached over and kissed her again before standing. As much as he wanted to stay here, there was much to prepare for the future and their departure for Lux Casta. And this was not his battle. He would stand beside her, but in the end, this was Selene’s fight. She had to choose for herself whom she would follow.

32

Amara stood within her mother’s bedchambers, a scowl on her face as she looked up at the painting of Rabanna Ravenwood that hung above the fireplace. The elder Ravenwood’s cold stare seemed to disapprove of her. Instead of cowering, Amara glared back at her ancestor, as if daring the woman to come down and fight her.

The door opened and her mother walked in, her dress swishing around her. There was a sprinkling of silver amongst the strands of her hair, and for the first time, Amara detected faint purple circles beneath her mother’s eyes.

Lady Ragna’s gaze came to rest on her. “Amara,” she said as she closed the door behind her.

“Mother.”

No affection, no warmth between them. Just a courteous acknowledgment before business commenced. It had always been that way for as long as Amara could remember. The only hint of emotion she had ever seen in her mother’s eyes was always for Selene, and never for her.