TIARA THORNELLS
I had been resting for so long. The silence had stretched on but I was done resting. Slowly, I sat up from where I lay. The air inside the cottage was still. This was the safe house where we’d been hiding. I was sent back here because I was still being hunted, pursued relentlessly by the soldiers of King Luther.
They didn’t believe me.
They refused to accept that the explosion of blinding light came from me that I was the source of that divine surge.
But they were wrong.
That explosion wasn’t just light. It was the sign, the signal that my power as a goddess had finally been awakened. It was proof that destiny had caught up with me.
I had seen the memories. Flashes of a past not entirely mine but deeply connected to me. The crimson red of my hair, which once felt like
