Page 50 of Daughter of Garnet

With the woman gone to senseless violence, Ilota believed that there was none worthy of her Blessing and swore that until the Daughter of Garnet walked the path again, she would withhold it.

The Daughter of Garnet, the child born to Ilota's most pious worshipper, took her mother after her violent death to rest and was never seen again. Ilota's fury at the loss ripped the path of garnets from the ground.

The garnets must be a metaphor for her Blessing, but then what is the path that I have walked to be bestowed it? If the garnets were given as thanks for steadfast belief, and taken away because of violence, what am I born of?

Am I to walk the path of righteousness?

Or is violence my calling?

CHAPTER 25

Zoe

A rustling to my left wakes me. I'm not sure when I fell asleep here in the glade, but by the position of the sun, I must have been out for at least an hour, if not two.

I push myself into a sitting position when a man appears through the trees. It takes my sleep-soaked eyes a moment to focus before I recognize the figure.

"Ray?" My voice is scratchy and dry.

He must not have noticed me here on the ground, because he stumbles a bit. "What are you doing here?"

One day I'll get used to the venom in his voice, but it's not today.

"Taking a nap, apparently."

He crosses his arms over his chest and looks at me with thinly veiled indifference. "Why?"

"Because I was tired? Why else would someone sleep?" No one has rolled their eyes at me like that since Warren and I were kids. "What are you doing here?"

"I come here to stretch my wings."

I haven't seen Ray's Argentavis form, but I want to. They're prehistoric, gone extinct millennia ago, and yet Oren chose to Bless him with the creature.

How large is he? Would he rival that of my dragon?

I stand and brush off my shorts. "I'll get out of your hair."

"Wait." That single word feels heavier than anything he's said to me before, rooting me to the spot. "I need to apologize." He takes a few steps toward me and scrubs his face with his hand. "I was a dick to you. Using the perfume doesn't make you a bad person, it's just⁠—"

"Just nothing, Ray. I don't use pheromone perfume."

He groans and looks to the sky. "I'm saying it's okay! You don't have to lie to me about it. It's not a moral failing or whatever. It's not my business to say what you can and cannot use."

I stalk toward him, poking him in the chest with my index finger. "I. Don't. Use. Perfume." I annunciate every word clearly, hoping that maybe, this time, it'll get through his thick Alpha skull. "Your sister would know if I did. Hell, everyone would know. You are the only person who thinks I do."

"Then how do you explain away that you smell like pomegranates and honey?" His nostrils flare, and he takes an unconscious step toward me. "A Beta like you shouldn't smell like the sweetest nectar. You're driving me crazy, Zoe. I can't keep my head on straight when you're around. It's all I can smell whenever you're in the room. I don't know what is wrong with me. You're a Beta, but the way I'm reacting to you…" He runs his hands through his hair, leaving tracks in the dark locks.

I don't trust Ray. I barely know him, and none of our interactions have inspired confidence that will change. I wish I could tell him that I'm an Omega and that he's not imagining things. I don't like that I've become a gaslighter, even though I have no other choice, but would he keep my secret? He's done nothing to show me that he will, and until he does, he can't know the truth.

Ray seems like an inflexible rule follower. His dislike of me stemmed purely from his belief that I was pretending to be something I wasn't, and he didn't like being deceived.

Which is what I'm doing, just not like how he thinks. I'm an Omega pretending to be a Beta, when he thinks I'm a Beta pretending to be an Omega. A lie is a lie, but this isn't one I can roll back.

Plus, he's Viv's brother. I cannot tell him my secret before I tell her. She's my friend, and he's just an Alpha with an attitude.

"I'm going to go, Ray. Enjoy your stretch."

I turn to leave, and he grabs my hand. I stumble to a stop, but don't turn to him. "Stay."