Chosen Fate

A treacherous game of destiny.

Talon must atone for his broken oaths and marry a woman he doesn't love or face banishment forever. While the thought of him marrying someone else rips me apart inside, I have bigger problems.

The cards the Seer gave me don't just divine my future. I found out they're part of a game of destiny, a long-lost access point that can help me gain command over an angelic army. An army powerful enough to wipe out an entire race.

I need that army to save my people.

The Arcaians need that army to destroy them.

Which of us will win?

Emotions clash, worlds collide, and even the best intentions go wrong in this heart-pumping final installment in USA Today bestselling author Cortney Pearson's Stolen Tears Series.

A sunrise is proof of new days and second chances. And if I ever needed a reminder of that, it’s today.
I stand on the edge of the crumbling sidewalk outside the Black Vault safehouse, taking in the gradual shift of the sky’s colors—from pale yellow on the cloud’s underbellies to soft blue as the sun climbs incrementally higher. Then just a little higher, as if it knows where it’s going, but also knows it doesn’t need to get there all at once.
I could hardly sleep after we returned from retrieving the tears from Gwynn’s room at the Triad Palace. Part of me can hardly believe that really happened only one night before.
My gaze drifts beyond the lonely road to where Mt. Rhine is visible. Gwynn was taken by the sirens, and I know what awaits her at their mountain. A life of frozen solitude, an eternity of stone.
I’m sad that she’s so far gone. That she brought such a calamity upon herself.
Rubbing the chill away from my arms, I exhale through my nose. So many cares clamber for my attention in the morning’s stillness—but there’s nothing I can do for her now. I tried. I gave it everything I had. But she’s gone.
It’s time to shift my focus. Perhaps that’s why, out here in the fresh, brisk morning, the reality of my destiny weighs twice as much as the tears in my pocket.
I am Ithillian.
Solomus explained it to me the night before. It’s why my magic never Torrented until recently on my eighteenth birthday less than a month ago. It’s why I am able to wield siren song without becoming a siren; why I caught on to Talon’s fighting instructions so quickly; why I’m able to brandish fire the way a wizard can.
I am the Ithillian race reborn. One born of many.
The door bangs shut behind me, jarring me from the pressure of my thoughts. Talon makes his quiet way. He’s wearing black today—black shirt that hugs his broad shoulders in a way I like all too much, black pants that emphasize his long legs.
Only he can move with such soundless strides, and the mere thought of his approach cinches my stomach into a tight wad—especially considering the promise I made to myself.
That I’m going to fight for him.
I don’t know exactly how I’m going to do that, yet. I need more information about the parameters of his bond to Shasa before I can figure out how to break it. But the nearer he draws, the way he makes my entire body come to life just knowing that he’s close, only cements that resolve.
“Here you are,” he says as if he was looking for me. “You okay?”
His damp hair falls into his eyes, and the scent of soap wafts from him. I wonder if he just got out of the shower. One other trait is noticeable—the dark circles below his eyes.
Something is troubling him, yet he’s asking if I’m okay? High marks.
“Yeah,” I say, hugging my torso and staring at Mt. Rhine’s peak in the distance. “It’s just hard to believe she’s gone. You all tried to convince me of that—and I didn’t want to believe it.”
“You cared a lot about her.”
“I did.”
I bring my gaze to his, losing myself in the jade color of his irises and the occasional flecks of blue and gold around his pupils.
“Is that all that’s bothering you?” he says, taking a step closer.
Heat radiates from his body. Unanswered tension fluctuates the air between us, and call me crazy, but I can sense his desire to put his arms around me. Maybe because the unspoken desire answers the call of my own longing.
I hug myself tighter, fighting the urge.
“I have a few things I need to figure out.” There’s nothing else to say, really. Not when he doesn’t yet know what I am. I’m not even sure of what I am.
I want to tell him of Solomus’s revelation. But I need to find the words—and with the tension clenching in his jaw and the agitation rippling from him, now isn’t the time.
“What about you?” I ask. “You look tired.”
He inhales and turns away from me, looking in the opposite direction of the siren’s mountain. Looking toward Valadir.
“My family is out there,” he says as the hardened mask he wore when we first met slips into place over his expression. “They’re on their way to Valadir.”
“And?” I prod.
He can’t really feel as calm as he’s acting.
Sure enough, a trace of conflict mars his expression. “And we can’t stay here much longer. I have to face them. It’s why I came out to find you.”
My heart lurches. I’ve known we’ll have to say goodbye sooner or later. He’s not saying it now, is he?