Page 216 of Interion

“Has anyone ever told you that you're incredibly conceited?” I asked, laughing and poking his chest with my finger.

“It's part of the charm.” He caught my poking hand and planted another kiss there. With each kiss, I felt myself falling deeper in love. I brought my hands to his neck and stroked it with my thumb. Zion shivered at the touch. My chest filled with something vibrant as I traced circles with my fingers on that sensitive spot.

“Kay, I need to ask you something.” He met my eyes, his expression turning serious, then glanced around and stepped back a little. “But let's sit down to eat before I make you actually late.”

I let him guide me from the counter to the kitchen table. We set breakfast on the tablecloth and sat down. This time, we didn't sit on opposite sides of the table—Zion dragged his chair over to my side.

“So, what's the question?” I asked, starting on some cake.

“I'm curious about something.” He set down his fork and looked at me. “But if you don't want to answer, you don't have to. I don't want to pressure you.”

“Ask.”

Zion seemed reluctant, as if carefully choosing his words so he wouldn't scare me.

“Every night you have nightmares,” he said calmly, as if expecting me to understand where this was going. I nodded for him to continue. “Most of the time Kiara wakes you up, but when she can't, I step in. Can you tell me what you dream about?”

I held my necklace, spinning the pendant between my fingers. This wasn't such a hard subject, and I already knew he woke me on some nights. Sometimes I felt his presence in the room, and the shadows usually lingered long after he left.

“Before, I used to dream about what I lived through when I was a slave, but those dreams have faded a lot since you came back. Now I have different dreams, like the ones I told Serguei about.”

Zion seemed to remember what he'd heard at the birthday party, then opened his mouth to speak, but another voice sounded in my mind.

“Finally, we've arrived at the subject I was waiting for.” My eyes widened in surprise, and so did Zion's. It was Serguei's voice. “I see my children are more controlled today, and I'm very happy for this small blessing. I wondered all night whether I would have to play chaperone on top of taking care of an entire city.”

I felt my cheeks burn at those words and wrapped myself tighter in my green coat, as if I could hide.

“Were you spying on us?” Zion asked, irritated.

“Yes?” Serguei huffed. “After last night? You can't be too careful. When I asked for this agreement, I thought I was making an excellent deal, but now I see the blessing has become a curse.”

“Then release us and be done with it. Problem solved, everyone's happy,” I retorted.

“No,” he said dryly. “Until you're ready, you're going to stay in line, Kyller. The tests are coming, and I want you to use your time and energy to train. Not to spend days on end tangled up in bed with Zion.”

If I thought my cheeks were flushed before, now they were probably incandescent. Zion growled at Serguei.

“The frenzy of youth. In my day, I was like that too. Hormones are dangerous little things, and I understand you both, but you'll have to wait,” he said, putting an end to the discussion.

Zion and I looked at each other—he was red with anger, and I was red with embarrassment.

“I wanted to continue talking about hormones, as it's a rather amusing subject, but I have a meeting with the king shortly. So, since you mentioned the dream, I'll ask—what did you think of the book?”

I bit my lower lip, looking at Zion. A chill crept over my skin again.

“It’s them, isn’t it? I’ve been dreaming about the archangels.” I remembered everything I’d seen in the book, and the last dream was still vivid in my mind.

“Yes, and it looks like they’re teaching you to fight, just like they taught your mother.”

“What’s your theory about this?” Zion asked.

“My theory is that if celestial divinities are going through the trouble of descending into your dreams to teach you how to fight, then you should, at the very least, learn everything they show you.”

“What do you think ‘granddaughter of the apocalypse’ means?” The description had been haunting me ever since the sonar said it.

“It could have several meanings, Kyller. The Sonar might have been referring to your Drutes genetics, which is governed by the goddess of War, or it could be something beyond that—perhaps your lineage is directly linked to the archangels.”

Zion and I exchanged a troubled look. I was trying to process what he’d just said.