In this scene from Bringer of Chaos, Pietas recalls a poignant interaction with his father. As young children, Pietas and Dessy suffered extreme isolation.

30 Days of Chaos: Day 23

To celebrate the launch of Bringer of Chaos: the Origin of Pietas I'm sharing 30 Days of Chaos. Each day during April, I'll post one excerpt from the book, along with a poster of a quote by Pietas. On the final day, members of my Romance Lives Forever Reader Group will receive a full color book containing all the quotes and posters. Unlike my website, the book posters will have only a quote and a beautiful image. Look for another giveaway at the end of this post.

Pietas and Dessy

Lying there, sheltered, clean, warm, not thirsty, not hungry, Pietas let himself drift toward sleep.

The sudden thought that he had done nothing to find and reconnect with his family or his people jerked him awake. Guilt crashed over him in a tidal wave.

He had given his mother not one thought. He had sacrificed everything for her, and now that he was free, he hadn't considered her safety. What kind of son was he? What kind of brother? His family was on the planet, and he had ignored them.

As soon as Six came back, he'd ask him to explore. Surely, his family and the others were close. No hint of emotions had reached him, but in his depleted state, he couldn't even sense the emotions of Six, right next to him.

Perhaps all he needed was rest. Yes, that was it. Rest. With rest, he'd be fine. Back to one hundred percent. His old self. Perfect.

Pietas tried to push himself up, but his arms and body refused to cooperate. That failed, so he tried turning onto his side, but could not force any part of himself off the blanket. Helplessness made him flail mentally. He panted from exertion, as ineffective as a slug.

The shame of being incapacitated stung worse than any punishment his father had ever meted out. No battle wound had ever been so mortifying. His body had been ruined, and his abilities as well. The most powerful and gifted of all the Ultras rendered helpless. Impotent. Useless as a--

Pietas stopped himself from even thinking the word.

His father's voice came to him as if in a dream. Mahikos had been talking to Helia, referring to Pietas and Dessy. Had he thought they could not hear? Or had he not cared?

"If anyone finds them, they'll be destroyed, Helia. We'll be destroyed. They have to be hidden. Kept out of sight. You can't take them outside!"

Huddling in another room, Pietas and Dessy clung to one another. They were no more than three years old. "Don't listen, Dess. I won't let anyone hurt you." He covered his sister's ears with his hands.

In another room, their mother argued for their freedom. "Mahikos, our children need sunlight. The books say children won't grow without fresh air and sunshine. We have to risk it."

"We don't know anything about children except for those books you keep reading. They were written for human children, not Ultras."

"There are no Ultra children! Mahikos, please. They need this."

"It will endanger everything we've worked for."

"But they need it. I need it. Please, Mahikos. Let us see the sun."

"These children will be killed, and all we've fought for will be gone. They'll destroy us! We'll both be killed. These children are useless! Worthless as mortals."

How many times had Pietas spouted that same rhetoric? Useless as a child. Worthless as a mortal.

He hated and despised his father. How had he become him?