“Mine will be different from yours,” he warned.
“I know. I’m just curious what you had to sacrifice.” Maybe it would give me an idea of what I’d have to sacrifice in mine.
He fell quiet for a moment, his gaze flicking to Shade before returning to me. “I had to sacrifice memories of my mom,” he admitted. “But in doing so, the source strengthened me, by helping me to heal wounds I hadn’t realized were left open from her passing.”
I considered that for a moment, my lips tugging downward. “But how do you know that if you can’t remember those moments?”
“Because the source returned my memories upon my ascension,” he explained. “After I’d healed.”
“So the source… helped you?”
“In a way,” he replied. “The trials are about preparing a leader, testing their boundaries and helping to strengthen their weaknesses. In forgetting my mother… I was able to better focus. And then I was able to better appreciate her memory when I ascended, too.”
That made sense in a way. “Do you think the source will take the memories of my parents?”
He studied me for a moment, his expression giving nothing away.
“Tell her,” Shade said. “Tell her your theory.”
I glanced at him and then back at Zakkai. “You have a theory?”
He threw a glare at Shade. “I do.”
“She needs to know,” my Death Blood mate insisted. “It’ll help her prepare.”
“Or freak her the fuck out for no reason.”
“You’re the one who keeps lecturing Zeph about her training,” Shade retorted. “Go eat your own words, Kai.”
Zakkai clenched his teeth together, his irritation and discomfort palpable.
“He’s right,” I told him softly, my palm lifting to rest over his heart. “Tell me your theory.”
He remained silent for a moment, his breathing expertly even as he released some of the tension in his shoulders and jaw.
His lashes fell as he blinked.
Then his expression mellowed.
“Given your increasing thirst, I think the Dark Source might require you to make a choice—between Midnight Fae and Elemental Fae. It might make you sacrifice your connection to the Earth.”
My heart dropped to my stomach.
Oh.
Now I understood his hesitation.
“That’s an impossible choice,” I whispered.
“Which makes it a likely trial,” he replied. “Especially with Constantine holding the reins.”
I reached for the counter, needing to steady myself. “I really hope you’re wrong,” I admitted.
“I hope I am, too.”
Silence fell between us.
Then my stomach growled again.