Page 27 of The Forsaken
“This line here is your heart line,” the Siren said, touching the large crease that stretched across Andromena’s palm. “For some, it only begins at the index finger and is a sign of high standards, matters of the heart, and contentment in love.”
She touched the base of Andromena’s middle finger. “If it started here, that would mean you put your own needs first. That is not you.”
If it were, Andromena wouldn’t be sitting across from the seer now.
A faint furrow settled in the girl’s small brow.
Her heart studded to a halt. “What?”
Silent, the Siren continued her scrutiny.
Andromena tensed in her seat, about to give a more forceful nudge when the seer carried on.
“Yours sweeps in a long, graceful curve from the edge of your palm all the way to your ring finger. A short, straight line would have marked you as a practical soul—someone level-headed and guarded, who keeps their feelings locked away. But yours tells a different story.”
The Siren—having rightfully assumed her seer’s name—lifted her head, reacting to Andromena’s hand as if it were a strange object, as though she had only just remembered she was seated there.
“I believe you share your feelings freely; do you not?”
“According to you, my line tells that.”
“Ahh, cynicism, like your friend outside… he is a bad influence.”
“You have no idea,” she said under her breath.
Edgar shouted a warning. “Five minutes.”
They ignored him.
“Yes, but Oi believe the palm lines. Yer the one who doesn’t.” A small smile touched the girl’s mouth. She went back to her reading. “The longer the line in the curve is, the more it indicates a person who shows their emotions and freely gives affection to those who deserve it.” A frown replaced the earlier smile. “And, sadly, to those who do not. They are not worth your efforts, but you give them anyway.”
The Siren touched a nearly indiscernible, horizontal crease between the bottom of Andromena’s smallest finger and the largest crease of her palm surface area. “Here is the only line women ever care about. You have many, sky-pointed lines.”
Andromena eyed those parts the seer spoke of.
“They signify close family attachments. And children.”
Pain scissored through her.
That was what brought her here—children. They were not flesh of her womb, but she loved them as much as if they had been.
Suddenly, the Siren touched Andromena’s hand, and the tip of the girl’s finger turned ice cold.
The seer’s posture stiffened.
A heavy weight dropped in Andromena’s belly. Her fingers bent.
The Siren strengthened her hold and locked Andromena into the reading. “There will be marriage.”
That blank look was there again. It came from a woman who saw the truth and wanted to escape it.
Suddenly, Andromena wanted to escape, too. What started as a simple favor now was far too real. Without meaning to, Andromena had started to believe.
“He isn’t the right man for you, and he isn’t your destiny. But he will try to force his way into your life anyway.”
The Siren spoke in a fast, rough rush. Or was that just Andromena hearing her own heavy breath?
“He will steal your choice. He is darkness and—”
