Mists of Velvet

and not strong enough to save both of us. So I saved myself, because in the end, it was saving all of you.”
    Bronwnn hugged him, and he allowed himself to absorb her warmth. He wasn’t proud of what he had done. He felt like a damned coward.
    “The adder came to you because you are worthy,” Keir said to him. “His wisdom is now your wisdom, and what you have seen will aid us more than a month of reconnaissance work ever could.”
    “I can’t tell you more than that. He lives beneath the corridor to Annwyn. When you leave Velvet Haven, it is the cavern to the left. That’s all I saw.”
    “There is a man there, chained,” Bronwnn murmured. “I saw him.”
    Bran waved in her direction as he spoke to everyone in the room. “This goddess is a seer. She is the writer of the prophecy.”
    Bronwnn finally lifted her face from Rhys’ chest and looked upon those who stood before her. When her lashes lifted, revealing her fully, Rowan and Mairi gasped.
    “What is it?” Rhys asked as Bronwnn stiffened beside him.
    “Look,” Keir whispered as he helped Rowan to stand. She came forward, out of the shadows and into the candlelight.
    It was Bronwnn’s turn to gasp. It wasn’t possible. In this light, she and Rowan looked remarkably alike. Why had he never noticed it before?
    “How can this be?” Bronwnn asked. “You are a mortal woman.”
    Rowan looked to Keir. “My journey,” she reminded him. “Do you recall what the man said to me?”
    Keir nodded, repeating the lines. “‘The key to the Sacred Trine,’” he said to her. “‘Two born of the same womb, but not of the same man. Keep this knowledge safe.’”
    “‘Born of the same womb,’” Rowan whispered.
    Bronwnn’s beautiful blue eyes turned a turbulent shade of gray. “‘But not of the same man.’”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

    “What is this about a journey?” Bran barked.
    “A divination,” Keir replied as he reached for Rowan’s hand. “We were searching for Carden and discovered something far different.”
    “What precisely was that?” Sayer asked, suspicion in his voice as he looked between both Rowan and Keir. “And when was that?”
    “When? None of your damned business. What did we discover? An angel with a tattooed face who spoke of a Sacred Trine.”
    Bronwnn was immediately shocked. This woman, this mortal woman, had seen the same man she had? They were connected. Sisters? “I have seen the same angel in a divination. He is being held captive by the mage. He is bound by chains and begs us to release him. He will join us if we do.”
    “An angel?” Keir questioned her. “Are you certain?”
    Rowan and Bronwnn both held out their hands, showing the symbol they had each drawn on their palms. It was remarkable how they were so connected, two people from two different realms.
    “But whose symbol is it? It’s not the one on the wall that was left at the site of Trinity’s murder,” Bran growled.
    “We’re at a roadblock if we can’t locate Suriel. From what I understand, he’s gone back into hiding. Convenient excuse, if you ask me,” Keir grumbled.
    “Where the hell is he?” Bran thundered. “Damn it, that angel is trying my patience.”
    “The fallen are never dutiful, or trustworthy,” Rhys reminded the king, who glared at him in response.
    “Suriel,” Bran roared, his voice echoing off the ceiling. “Show yourself.”
    “My love, I hardly think he’ll hear you.”
    “Mairi, your friend is probably hovering about the door as we speak.”
    As if to prove the king’s point, a deep voiced drawled, “You called?” It was followed by a flash of light, and the magnificent sight of black feathers, which furled back to reveal a leather-clad Suriel. “Although I prefer e-mail to crow song.”
    The king glared at the angel. “Where have you been?”
    “Oh, just here and there. I do have a boss to answer to, you know.”
    “Like hell,” Bran thundered. “Your boss cast your ass out, and now I’m the only one you have.”
    Suriel glared at Bran. Gone was the ease, replaced by a tightly held anger. Then his gaze searched the room until he found the king’s mate. “Hello, Mairi.”
    She smiled and went to him, hugging him tightly.
    “How is my Anam Cara ?”
    Bran growled low in his throat. He hated to be reminded that Suriel and Mairi shared a sacred bond.
    “I’m fine, Suriel. But I think you’re provoking my husband.”
    Suriel released her. “For you, then. Now, what is it you want from me?