Gathering Darkness (Falling Kingdoms 3)

“That’s your blood,” she said.

“It is,” Lucia agreed.

Melenia looked then to the snowy ground and saw the symbol Lucia had drawn with her own blood. A triangle—the symbol for fire.

Melenia’s smile faded and her eyes widened. “What have you done?”

“Alexius told me I could draw this symbol anywhere with my blood to summon him, now that he’s been awakened. It’s his decision if he wishes to obey.”

Melenia’s gaze searched the area frantically until she spotted a figure approaching the cliffs.

“It’s you,” she managed, her voice breaking. “It’s really you.”

The tall figure wore a cloak. Lucia couldn’t see his face, but she knew who he was. The smallest emotion managed to wedge its way into her heart, pushing past her numbing grief.

Fear.

The figure drew back his hood to show dark blond hair and amber eyes. He was as handsome as Alexius was—unnaturally so. All the Watchers were beautiful and eternally young, Alexius had told her.

But this young man wasn’t a Watcher.

Melenia seemed uncertain upon realizing he wasn’t going to rush to her and take her into his arms.

“Melenia,” he said, reaching them and sweeping a gaze over her. “You succeeded. Congratulations.”

Finally, her smile returned and she reached for him, but her hand dropped to her side before she touched him. “A thousand years I’ve waited, my love. I’ve done everything I could to make this night possible.”

“And I’m grateful. Very grateful.” He held his hand out to her. She closed the distance between them and pressed her lips to his. It didn’t take long before she drew back with a confused expression.

“You didn’t return my kiss.”

“No, I didn’t.”

She appeared to compose herself, putting her sheen of perfection back into place, as if the rejection of someone she’d waited a thousand years to kiss didn’t bother her in the slightest.

Lucia watched, fascinated. An ancient, powerful, beautiful woman—as close to a goddess as Lucia had ever seen—rejected by her lover was a rather awkward sight, to say the least.

Had Melenia really believed everything would turn out exactly as she wanted?

The young man turned his gaze to Lucia. She drew in a quick breath at the intensity of his amber-colored eyes. “I can also thank you for this.”

“Don’t thank me.”

“But I must. I’m free because of you. The power of a sorceress, but in the body of a mortal girl . . . how extraordinary.” He swept his gaze over her. “You and I, we have much in common.”

“No, we don’t.”

“But we do. We both want to embrace who we are, we both want to stop being used by others and discarded at their will. We both desperately want control over our destinies, and revenge over our enemies.”

She didn’t reply, so startled she was that she agreed with everything he’d said.

“Unfortunately,” he continued, “there are still obstacles in my path to absolute freedom and limits to my current power.”

“I’ve taken care of most of those obstacles,” Melenia said. “Of the elders, only Timotheus still lives.”

“And you, of course. That makes two elders with the power to imprison me again. That strikes me as two too many.”

Confusion crossed Melenia’s face, followed by a flash of pain, as if he’d deeply hurt her feelings by saying this.