Chapter 1

I am Elara, the last of the Sunstone Guardians.

My home is a hidden place in the Arizona desert, far from cities, far from roads.

We live with the sun, with the sand, with the ancient spirits of the land.

My gift, my burden, is to channel my own life, my strongest feelings, into Sunstone Seeds.

These are not just crystals.

They are alive.

They pulse with my energy, with healing.

They are my vitality, the children I might one day have.

The elders of my community made a pact.

William Rutherford Sr., a rich oil man from Texas, sought us out.

His son, Ethan, was paralyzed.

A polo accident, they said.

No doctor could fix him.

The Rutherfords saw us as a last hope.

I was to marry Ethan.

I was to give three Sunstone Seeds to heal him.

This was the price for my community's continued peace, a peace bought with my future.

I arrived at the Rutherford ranch in Texas.

It was huge, sprawling, green in a way the desert never was.

It felt wrong, too loud, too full of things.

Ethan Rutherford was in a wheelchair, his eyes dull, his face tight with frustration.

We married in a quiet room. No love, just a contract.

Then, the work began.

In a sun-drenched conservatory, month after month, I focused.

I pulled my life essence, thread by painful thread, into form.

Three times, I endured this.

Three radiant Sunstone Seeds lay in my hands, warm, pulsing.

They were small, perfect, each a part of me.

I placed them near Ethan, let their energy flow into him.

Slowly, miraculously, he healed.

He stood. He walked.

The dullness left his eyes.

Soon after, Candice, Ethan' s stepsister, a Dallas socialite with a hungry look, picked up one of the Seeds.

She turned it over in her fingers, her nails too long, too red.

"Handle them with care," I told her, my voice soft but firm. "They are living things."

She just smiled, a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

That evening, Ethan made an announcement at dinner.

He was cutting ties with Candice.

"For disrespecting Elara," he said, his voice strong.

He then turned to me, presenting a velvet box.

Inside, a diamond necklace glittered.

More gifts followed.

He lavished me with expensive things, things I didn't understand or want.

It felt strange, unsettling.

His gratitude was a heavy blanket.

A month later, we were in Dallas for the Rutherford Foundation Charity Ball.

The ballroom was a sea of jewels and fake smiles.

I saw the auction preview booklet on a table.

My breath caught.

There, listed among art and vacations, were my Sunstone Seeds.

Not for sale.

The description read: "Unique geological specimens."

To be "analyzed and documented."

By a "researcher" chosen by Candice.

My blood ran cold.

Ethan, looking handsome and confident, stood on a small stage.

Candice was beside him, beaming, her hand on his arm.

Behind them, a display case.

Inside, not just my three Seeds, but a hundred other crystals, all looking similar.

Ethan tapped the microphone.

"Good evening, everyone," he said, his voice smooth. "For your amusement tonight, a little game."

He gestured to the display.

"My dear wife, Elara, claims these Sunstone Seeds of hers are special. She will now identify her three true Seeds from this collection."

A murmur went through the crowd.

"For each incorrect guess," Ethan continued, his smile widening, "a crystal will be publicly shattered. Its contents, if any, will be donated to Candice' s new Crystal Healing Initiative."

Candice preened.

Guests whispered.

They said Candice had just returned from a "spiritual cleansing retreat" in Sedona.

A spa vacation, I knew.

They said she was the true force behind Ethan' s recovery.

They said she was the rightful woman by his side.

My heart pounded. This was not a game. This was a betrayal.