PROLOGUE

The bed was deliciously warm as Connak’s eyes fluttered open to the soft golden light filtering through the woven walls of the oasis home. Heat clung gently to the air, dry yet bearable, carried on the scent of sunbaked earth and distant flowering palms. Even in the heat of the desert, life pressed in around him, green and persistent. The city of Holbeck was surrounded by tall red rock pillars, nestled in the middle of the realm of Alistile. Those pillars stood as guardians to the oasis, protecting the city from sandstorms and sandwraiths—a fancy word for a desert pirate. The contrast of the earthy richness and the dry, mineral sands around him wafted through the windows of his Holbeck residence. 

Connak stretched and turned to see Tavren lying next to him, her big, brown eyes encompassing him. She stirred and placed her hand on his chest. “Want me to get some sandroot stew?”

He wrapped his arm tighter around her rough skin. Scales had begun to form around her face, fresh purple hues shimmering along her hairline. He breathed in the scent of aloe and smiled. “You know I hate that stuff. Can we just stay here for a while?”

Tavren hummed, her body vibrating against his.

He’d have to leave Holbeck soon. He knew that. But for now, he let her warmth sink into him, like he could carry it when he went. Tavren never seemed to mind. She understood who he was and that he had duties in his own land, preparing for a war that had stalled for twenty-four years. 

She buried herself back into her pillow and hid her scales from the sun. Connak moved to follow, but something tugged at the edge of his mind. It came with familiarity, something that had been there his entire life, but he’d been able to ignore it before. Now, it scratched deeper, threading at the base of his skull all the way to the deepest parts of his mind. What once felt like a whisper pulled invasively at him, like a hook tugging him toward something he couldn’t see. He clenched his fists into the sheets and tried to root himself. Tavren was right there, dammit, and Connak didn’t want to frighten her. He risked a glance at her. Her eyes were closed as she breathed gently against the linens.

Whatever control he thought he had over his mind burned away. Connak prayed Tavren wouldn’t notice as all wards broke inside. His surroundings shattered like glass as he barreled toward the call. He needed to relax. His body was tense, sending a splitting headache behind his eyes. He rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath. His mind was projecting, though his body remained in Holbeck. He’d be safe, as long as he didn’t stir the wrong creatures.  

His consciousness flew across the desert until he found an image of a towering stone wall protecting a gray and lifeless city. His jaw tightened, tension rising in his shoulders. He knew this city. He’d been thrust into it by his people and forced to find his own way out as a child… So much for not stirring the wrong creatures.

Now he was back and questioning why. He wondered if the King of River Storm finally raised that army of the dead he’d been working on. He found his answer when his mind thrust forward violently through the wall and met a pair of eyes. Icy blue and piercing. They were wide and slightly upturned at the corners. The ice-blue irises glowed against the contrast of her thick lashes like frozen fire set into glass. They were the only thing he could see at first. Connak startled at how close they were, like they were waiting for him. Slowly, the rest of the body appeared.

A woman. Very much alive.

Pity. An army of the dead might have been more fun.

Connak studied this woman. She looked sad, sitting at a table with a wine cup. Her hair curled in soft, smoky waves, fading from dark brown roots to an interwoven ash that shimmered like moonlight on cold metal. It fell past her shoulders, hovering over her face as she let her head hang. Her skin was sun-kissed and radiant with warm, golden tones.

Seeing her felt surreal. Like fitting a puzzle piece together that he didn’t realize was missing. His mind jolted with sparks. He was meant to find her. Did she know he was here? Could she feel him as deeply as he could feel her? He dipped his hand into her presence, wondering if she would react. It didn’t appear that she could see him yet. But she called him…why? He cleared his throat. "Hello."

Her head jolted up and looked around frantically, and then her eyes settled on him. His back stiffened, something primal flickering through him. She cocked her head, and her eyes found his. She parted her mouth like she wanted to say something, but then her brow furrowed, and her eyes glazed over. It didn’t seem like she could see him anymore, but the more he looked at her, the more he felt the faint bond that had been tugging at him his whole life. It gripped him so tightly now, like the roots of a tree grasping soil for life. 

A hand brushed his shoulder, jolting Connak from his focus. His mind spiraled away from the woman, his eyes acclimating back to the brightness of the harsh sun pouring into his room. Tavren sat up in bed and rubbed his back. Her touch startled him and then broke him. She wouldn’t understand what he saw. He only understood pieces of it himself and only from what they told him back home.

 River Storm had a way of burying things. Not just people, but memories. The city wrapped its cold fingers around the mind and twisted until the truth unraveled. That’s what it had done to him, smothering his past so thoroughly, he hadn’t even realized what he’d forgotten.

But the Eternal Mother never let go.

The goddess returned pieces of him, little by little. And now, called by the pull of that woman…it was as if the goddess threw open every door.

He remembered.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he remembered her name. Her place in the prophecy and the reason they were all here. She was a ghost hiding in the seams of history. The moment he acknowledged that, he knew he had to go back for her. She was woven deep into the tapestries of his life. The stories were clear. She would haunt him until the day that he died.