Birthright (The Stone Legacy Series Book 5) by Theresa Dalayne Page A

the open entrance of the ruin. They were being watched. Whether it was Cualli and Balam, or Contessa doing the watching, she couldn’t be sure.
    “Come on.” She draped Arwan’s arm over her neck and held him against her hip. “You need to get up. We have to go home.”
    Arwan didn’t move.
    She pursed her lips. “Arwan. Come on.” Her stone buzzed louder, making her heart race. “Something’s wrong. Someone’s here. We have to go.”
    “What?” He dragged his gaze to her face with a blank stare, as if he hadn’t heard anything she’d said.
    If they were going to get out of there without risking a toe-to-toe confrontation, she had to snap him out of it. “Sorry about this.” She rubbed her fingers together, building an electrical current over her skin. Energy buzzed over her fingertips, and she thwacked him on the ribs.
    He gasped and his muscles stiffened. She secured her arm around him to make sure he didn’t fall. He flinched, and the emptiness in his eyes vanished.
    He blinked and looked at her—really looked at her. “Thanks.”
    “No problem. Now come on.” She ground her teeth and pushed with her legs, hauling him to his feet. He slumped against her at first, but gradually gained his own footing until he stood without her help. “I don’t know who it is or how close they are, but my stone is totally freaking out. We have to—”
    Soft, padded steps silently carried Balam into the ruin.
    Zanya let out a heavy breath. “Oh, thank God.” She pushed strands of hair away from her face. Though she was happy to see him, she couldn’t find it in herself to smile. If Cualli knew about Arwan’s heritage, Balam most certainly knew as well, and that meant both of them had kept it from her.
    Though…as a cat, it was impossible for him to say so. She rolled her eyes. Okay, he had a good enough excuse.
    The goddess, on the other hand…
    Zanya glanced at the empty entrance. “Where’s Cualli?”
    Balam paused and peered at her with those familiar yellow eyes. Zanya stilled. “Is something wrong?”
    The jaguar god quickly slunk out of the ruin. She looked at Arwan. “I have a feeling we should follow him.”
    “I think so.”
    Zanya traced Balam’s path out of the temple and down hundreds of narrow steps, where the jaguar waited. Once they’d caught up, Balam continued down the path of destruction made by Zanya’s storm.
    She and Arwan exchanged a skeptical glance before pushing forward. Balam’s tail swished and twitched, and every few yards he paused and shook off his paws, flicking mud and murky water into the air.
    Finally, they rounded a curve in the path. Zanya slowed to a stop at the sight of Cualli in the distance.
    The goddess’s porcelain skin shimmered in the sun as she knelt on the churned soil, hunched over a tangled mess of uprooted plants. The tips of her golden strands skimmed over the ground, sprouting new, green ferns still in tiny spiraled balls.
    Cualli reached out and touched the tattered leaf of a jungle palm. It fell off the plant into her hand. The goddess allowed it to slip through her fingers to the ground.
    Cualli’s statuesque figure stilled while she stared at the fallen leaf.
    Zanya wanted to say something, but couldn’t think of anything that would make it right. Under the circumstances, they needed a quick path to the temple, but now, seeing the goddess mourn over the very plants and flowers she was destined to protect, Zanya would have gladly hiked days to avoid the destruction she’d caused.
    Balam stalked around Cualli and sat in front of her. The goddess turned, set her gaze on Zanya, and frowned. When she stood, Zanya took a cautious step back.
    “What have you done to my jungle?” Her normally euphoric voice seemed sharp and dangerous.
    “I’m so, so sorry.” Zanya bit her bottom lip, searching for something more to say. “We had to get to the Temple of Inscriptions, and—”
    “You found it necessary to destroy my jungle to find your way