Chosen by Sable Grace Read Free Book Online Page A

sensed nothing of his plans once he was resurrected?”
    Haven shook her head. “Only that he wanted to reclaim his throne—which meant killing those holding the powers that rightfully belonged to him.” She blinked, her face growing even paler. “Those were his thoughts, not mine. Those powers belong to you—”
    â€œIt’s all right, Haven,” Ryker said, his smile revealing one of the dimples Kyana adored. “We know what you mean.” He stood, stretching his arms overhead before bringing them back down to rub his temples.
    â€œWhere are you going?” Kyana asked.
    â€œTo summon the gods. We need to speed up the siphoning process. If we’re about to go to war, then our powers need to be protected in the event that some of us don’t make it out alive.”
    Kyana tried not to cringe at his defeated tone. To distract herself from his words, she held out her hand to Haven, who took it without hesitation, which lightened Kyana’s heart. Maybe there was still something to be salvaged between them. Gods, she hoped so.
    When Ryker was gone, Kyana debated whether to question Haven about another matter that had been bugging her for a while now. In the scheme of things, it was minor. But at the time, one of Haven’s lies had cut Kyana pretty deeply. She might never get another chance to ask the question.
    â€œHaven?”
    â€œHmm?” Haven curled herself into a ball on the couch, her eyes droopy with weariness.
    Kyana reconsidered broaching the topic, but quickly found her resolve again. “Why did you tell me you grew up in Tennessee? That your father was a youth pastor there?”
    Haven suddenly looked very much awake. She sat up, her gaze falling to her bent knees, and Kyana hated herself for bringing it up. Haven was already dying under a mountain of guilt, and Kyana had just supplied another boulder to help smother her.
    â€œNever mind. I’m sorry. It . . . it doesn’t matter.”
    Kyana had found out the truth when Haven had gone after her father to kill him for what he’d done to her and their family in childhood. She’d been stunned that Haven would need to lie about any of it. Especially given Kyana’s own background. Why hadn’t Haven trusted her with the truth? That her father wasn’t a pastor in Tennessee but an abusive asshole in Florida.
    â€œYou can be friends,” Haven said as Kyana turned to leave her in peace, “and not know every damned secret a person has.”
    Kyana turned back, found Haven staring at her, a look of remorse, maybe even a little disgust, in her eyes.
    â€œWho wants to admit to the world that their father was garbage? That they couldn’t afford breakfast or lunch, and sometimes dinner? That their first touch from a man came from the man who gave them life? Who willingly admits to that, Kyana? He killed Hope, and thinking about him made me want to vomit every day of my life. So I created a man I could be proud of. A past that didn’t bring me to tears every time it popped into my head. Is that so bad?”
    â€œNo,” Kyana whispered. “It was your secret to keep. I’m sorry we had to find out when we were looking for you.”
    And truly, she was. Her own past was no better than Haven’s. The only difference was, Kyana hadn’t been smart enough to make up a better one to answer the nosy questions from others. One that would be retold so many times maybe she could’ve thought of it as real.
    â€œWhere is he, anyway?” Haven asked. “Kevin, I mean.”
    â€œYour father—”
    â€œKevin. Don’t call him my father.” The anger and hurt in Haven’s voice chipped away one more defensive wall Kyana had built between them.
    â€œ Kevin is Below with the other refugees. Did you . . . did you want to see him?”
    Haven looked at her as though she’d lost her mind. “Only if I have permission to