Made room for me.

“I…I like the sound of that,” I whispered hoarsely.

Kieran patted my shoulder, or rather Casteel’s hand. Maybe both.

“You think you can tell us what you remember?” Casteel asked after a moment, and I told him I could. “I need to know exactly what happened at the Temple. What you and that son of a bitch Jansen may have talked about when he was masquerading as Beckett. How he acted. I want to know exactly what those people said to you.” He met my gaze. “I know it won’t be easy, but I need to know anything you can remember.”

I nodded. I told him everything, and it was easier than I thought it would be. What had happened had caused an ache in the center of my chest, but I didn’t let that feeling grow or get in the way. Casteel wouldn’t let it. I felt next to nothing from him as I talked. Now was not the time for emotion. Only facts were needed.

“That prophecy he spoke of?” I said, looking between them. “Have either of you heard of that?”

“No.” Casteel shook his head. “It sounded like a load of bullshit, especially the part about the Goddess Penellaphe. Sort of insulting to attach that nonsense to the Goddess of Wisdom.”

I couldn’t agree more. “But could it be something you haven’t heard?”

“No. We don’t have prophecies,” Kieran confirmed. “We don’t believe in them. It sounds like a mortal thing.”

“They’re not widely believed in Solis, but they do exist,” I told them. “I didn’t believe it either. It all sounded too convenient and exact, but there’s a lot of things I don’t know or believe.”

“Well, that is one thing I don’t think you have to worry about,” Casteel stated.

I nodded, my thoughts shifting. “When the sky started to rain blood, they said it was the tears of the gods,” I told him. “They took it as a sign that what they were doing was right.”

“They were wrong.”

“I know,” I said.

“Do you know how you were able to stop them?” Kieran asked. “How you used your abilities?”

“That is a hard question to answer. I…I don’t know how to explain it other than to say it was like I knew what to do.” My brows knitted as I pressed my palm to the center of my chest. “Or like it was some instinct I didn’t realize I had. I just knew what to do.”

“Eather,” Casteel corrected softly.

“Eather,” I repeated. “I sort of…saw it in my mind, and it happened. I know that sounds bizarre—”

“It doesn’t.” He returned to stand in front of me. “When I use compulsion, the eather gives me the ability to do so. I see in my mind what I want the person to do as I speak it.”

“Oh. So, it’s…it’s kind of like projecting your thoughts?”

He nodded. “Sounds like what you did is the same. It’s also how we can tell if we’re dealing with an elemental or another bloodline—based on the amount of eather we feel.”