Cruel Fates (Empires Book 1)

PTE

he air was crisp and cool, filled with the sweet scent of blooming wildflowers. In the distance, the distant howl of

ngs, but his mind was elsewhere. Beside him, Xanthos Thorne walked with a quiet confidence, his crossbow at the rea

pered, his voice barely audib

gaze flicking toward

d Xanthos knew better than to press him. Instead, he nodded and con

ies of that fateful night, the night his parents were massacred by the Empire's assassins. The pain still lingered, a

erned glance. But Galen's expression remained impassive,

iet on the forest floor. But Galen's heart wasn't in it. His mind was else

. He knew that all it took for Xanthos to prepare the crossbow was a split second. Xanthos's eyes

. He didn't want to reopen old wounds, didn't want to relive the pain and the anger. Wanting to change

ught their attention. The sound of leaves rustling, of twigs snapping, echoed through th

the moonlight. Xanthos's finger tightened on the trigger, but he did

hrough with this conversation," he said, his voice low and even. "You'

the ready. The deer paused to munch on something on the ground, oblivious to the danger lurking mere feet away. X

s he stood, he caught a whiff of smoke on the wind. He frowned, knowing they were nowhe

n, the crossbow hanging limp in his hands. Before him stood Galen, surrounded by a blaze that seemed to

omeone else. He looked around, taking in the inferno that surrounded him, but his gaze didn't quite

forward, unsure of what he was witnessing. "Galen?

nd shaken. "I-I did this," he stuttered, his voice

lingered. There could only be one explanation for this phenomenon.

ifted, too, and the Empire had taken her, forcing her into their army of Gi

culture of fear. Those with abilities like Galen's li

l these years? Xanthos knew that only his uncle, Arc

mforting his stricken friend. He placed a reassuring hand on

was about to change – and not for the better. If Galen wa