(MASON'S POV)
"You are the son of the God of the Sun. You carry divine blood in your veins. Something ancient. Something sacred."
Could this be it? Could this be what Haelorian was talking about? Was my human skin—the skin I had worn for eighteen years—finally giving way to something else? Something I didn't understand and wasn't ready for?
Beside me, Helen was sobbing, her fingers clawing at her arms. Her body trembled violently, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
"It hurts, Mason," she whimpered. "It hurts so much."
I grabbed her hand, squeezing it tight. "I know. I know it does. But we're almost there. Just hold on a little longer."
Fiona drove like a woman possessed.
The Rolls-Royce weaved through traffic with impossible precision, cutting off cars, running red lights, ignoring every traffic law in existence. The engine roared like a beast unleashed, and Fiona's knuckles were pale against the steering wheel.
