"You know me, Oracle?" Tamara looked at him curiously.
"Yes. You were a servant of Genevieve. You studied under Draven's mother," Phoenix replied. "You and Azazel got together, but you were revealed as a Lamia and ran off, pregnant with his child."
Silence fell between us, as all the pieces fit together neatly in a wider puzzle. My stomach churned. My heart sank. And Tamara smiled, further rattling my senses.
"You're Azazel's daughter," Draven murmured, looking at Eva.
The young Lamia seemed ashamed of that association but nodded in response, then proceeded to measure him from head to toe, as if sizing up a good steak. My blood simmered.
"And you're Genevieve's son," Tamara replied, a warm twinkle in her yellow eyes.
"Indeed I am. I'm just wondering how you managed to deceive her, pretending to be a Druid," he shot back, his face hardened.
"I never lied to Genevieve. She knew exactly what I was and accepted me. She kept my secret and helped me learn the way of the Druids. She understood that Lamias had the same abilities, the same potential as the Druids, and that our taste for incubus flesh should not have locked us out of the mystical circle. We deserve knowledge, and she agreed to teach me. Genevieve was the best thing to ever happen to me, Draven. Azazel was the worst, but then I had Eva, and my life gained new meaning. If it hadn't been for your mother, my child and I would have never survived in this world."
"Azazel looked for you," Phoenix said, his gaze fixed on Tamara. "He tormented an Oracle to tell him where you were. He never found you, did he?"
Tamara shook her head, her brow furrowing.
"That was Raelle you saw. She was a good Oracle, and an even better being," she sighed. "I tried to get her out of there as soon as Azazel brought her in, but I was no match for him and his Destroyers. He beat me to a pulp, not knowing I was with child at the time. I nearly lost Eva, which was why I ran away. I'd witnessed his descent into madness, and I could no longer be a part of it. I never forgave him, and I never will."
"Why should we trust you?" Phoenix insisted, gritting his teeth.
"My kind is on the brink of extinction thanks to that monster!" Tamara burst out, overcome by anger. "I want to see him burn! We've been reduced to negotiating Draven's seed for my daughter just to help our species. Can you not see that?"
A moment passed before either of us could say anything. The gravity of the situation began to sink in. I looked at Draven, whose gaze moved between Tamara and Eva.
"You want me to give Eva a child," he repeated.
Tamara nodded. "You are the last Druid, Draven. It's you or nothing, as the nineteenth kingdom has fallen recently. You must help us produce offspring. Perhaps she will live long enough to find another way for our species to continue. Otherwise we'll all eventually die out."
"And you think me giving her a child will solve the problem?" he asked.
I was suddenly taken aback by the fact that he was actually considering the option. My head spun. But I fought with myself for control, keeping my cool in front of a fragile alliance. I had to think of the bigger picture, no matter how furious it made me. A whole galaxy was at stake.
"It will delay the inevitable, at least," she replied.
Draven looked at me, his eyes flickering black. I stepped forward, closing the distance between us. No matter what happened, I had to support him. This wasn't about us anymore, and Tamara didn't seem like the kind of creature to soften at the sight of us suffering over this. She had the survival of her species in mind.
"Draven," I breathed.
"It's … It's not what I had in mind when she said she had a condition," he said hoarsely.
"I know, and I hate it. I'd love nothing more than to punch her in the face right now."
"I can hear you," Tamara smirked.
"I'm well aware, so listen carefully as we decide your fate, then!" I shot back with a hiss, prompting her to take a step back.
"What are you thinking?" Draven whispered.
My heart twisted at the sight of his tortured expression, and I closed my eyes, squeezing them tightly shut and breathing deeply.
"Neither of us is comfortable with this, obviously," I managed, almost whispering, "but I … I understand what's at stake here. If we could get the Lamias' support, then … "
I could barely finish my sentence. It hurt so bad just saying all of this. At the same time, as agonizing as this was, I couldn't let selfishness dictate the fate of billions of Eritopians. There was a universe far greater than myself out there. And for all we knew, the Lamias' alliance could make or break its future.
I inhaled. "Her Lamias and inherent magic would help level the playing field against Azazel," I said. "And that's what we need the most right now."