“Your full name is Roscoe?”

Rory nodded, her blonde hair falling in front of her face and blocking those sinful golden eyes from my view. “Roscoe Rose, they called me. Awful decision, but there you go, Dad was as creative as ‘rose bush’… why are you shaking?”

I couldn’t believe it. I’d spent years trying to decide whether Rory Alden was really the Aelian I had to find… and I’d gone for it. I’d dragged her on a quest meant for the person I thought she was, learned so much more about the girl I’d never bothered to speak to before, choked down growing feelings that could ruin it all. And I’d fucked it all up by never asking what her name really was.

How did I forget such a simple question?

“We’re doomed,” I told her, looking away from her. “Actually, genuinely doomed. So tell me, why wouldn’t you let me know when the sword burned you?”

“I… it’s not that bad? Look, it’s barely what you can call first-degree.”

I looked at her barely-red palm and found myself frowning. That just didn’t make any sense.

But then again.

Rory matched everything else.

And Elatha like me are meant to either be drawn to Aelian or to other Elatha, kinda like my mothers are… so who was I meant to bring here?