Page 45 of Heir of Broken Souls

They hold eye contact until Elysia rolls her eyes and stands. “As you wish.”

“Hmm.” She regards her with a sneer as she plops into the cushion. “Who’s going to start talking?”

Nolan arrives then, drenched in sweat and blood. He must’ve come the moment Knox called for him.

“How bad is it?” Knox asks.

Nolan rubs the back of his neck. He looks to his dirty clothes, then to the couches, and remains standing. “It’s not good.”

“I’ll send for Edgar to set up a meeting with the court royals tomorrow. For now…” Knox leans back, placing his palm over my leg as he recites the passing hour and all that we found within Elysia’s mind, leaving out the sordid details of her past. Which, by the look on her face, I take it she’s grateful for. She still flinches when he explains her family's murder, though, and glares with such ferocity at Axel as Harlow details the moment he tackled her.

“You’re telling me that the only person who can supposedly translate the prophecy just so happened to show up on our front doorstep when we needed her?” Harlow asks, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

“I can’t translate it,” Elysia clarifies.

Harlow turns her cunning gaze on her. “You’rereceivingthe translation, then. Not the Fae the prophecy is meant for, but you. A random psychic.”

“Seer,” Elysia corrects, her nose scrunching. “Mermaids are psychic, and I’m not related to those old hags.”

Nolan chokes on nothing but air as he gapes at Elysia.

“Perhaps we’re not meant to uncover the prophecy all at once. If we were able to translate, we’d uncover it in its entirety,” Knox proposes, drawing his court’s attention. “The archangels work in mysterious ways.” He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “What do you have so far?”

Elysia looks directly at me as she recites it, her voice taking on a musical lint.

“Seven set forth their crafted fate, placing salvation in the hands of the one they hate.

With whispered words and secret curses, the future of all lies dormant.

Until one day all that glittered was no longer gold.

With a path brimming with loss and suffering, shall you take it, the veil of deceit shall rise.

With the stains and splatters of our kind, lie the ruins of our fallen demise.

With courts now tattered and broken, you must seek, the one you want bleeding at your feet.

With this prophecy, you shall find, all the answers you must hide.

Trust very few so as not to repeat, the treacheries that brought you to your knees.”

The last line serves as a reminder of Hazel. The lies and deception she wove sits like a ginormous griffin in the room. The unjustness that she’s still out there somewhere, still alive and breathing, while Ace is not.

Hazel’s motives were purely driven to bring back her daughter. A life for a life never felt so cruel until now.

“What does any of that mean? It’s all gibberish,” Lenox scoffs.

“It’s called a riddle, you moron.”

Lenox’s canines flare in Harlow’s direction. “Shut your mouth, you filthy witch!”

“You want to see a witch?” she says sweetly. “I’ll show you a witch.”

Shadows snap over their hands and mouths, Knox silencing them both without even looking their way. “Perhaps we should visit the mermaids for answers. If anyone knows how to solve a riddle it would be them.”

Elysia looks as if she ate something bad. “You actively speak to the mermaids?”

“They’ve been helpful in the past?—”