Intuition by C. J. Omololu

person who’s destined for me.”
    â€œYou throw that word around pretty easily,” he says.
    â€œIt’s true. Griffon isn’t just Akhet. He’s Sekhem. And we’re meant to be together.”
    Something dark passes over his features with this news. “Sekhem? So were the two of you happy together in a past lifetime? Did you sacrifice everything just to be with each other? Have you spent the past few centuries hoping against hope that you’d find the essence of the person you once loved so completely?”
    â€œThat’s not fair,” I say, trying not to absorb the meaning behind his words. “I’ve only just become Akhet. I have no idea what I’ve been doing the past few centuries—those are your memories, not mine.” The image of Griffon on the executioner’s stand passes through my head. How we knew each other then isn’t important. “I’m with Griffon now. That’s what matters.”
    Drew seems to shrink back at my words. He can’t look at me as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, black velvet jewelry box. “I made these for you.”
    I take a step back. “I don’t want anything from you.”
    â€œI made them to complete the set,” he says, holding it out toward me. He glances at the pendant. “They’re meant to go together. Always were.” He puts the box in my hand and folds my fingers around it in a familiar gesture. I’m too stunned to object when he whispers, “With these jewels you shall have means to get away. Keep them hidden, whatever you do.”
    I gasp as I recognize the words Connor said to me just before he was led away. We were alone in the room that day—there’s no way anyone else could have known. I can’t look atDrew because I’m afraid of what I might see in his face. Of what I might see behind his eyes.
    I hesitate, then turn the small box and lift the lid. Inside, nestled in a velvet liner, are delicate silver earrings, each with a bright red ruby in the center. I put one hand reflexively on my pendant as the room seems to recede around me.
    â€œThis!” the old man roars, yanking the pendant from around my neck. As much as I try to stand my ground, I flinch, and my skin burns as the chain is pulled free
. “This
is what you had made with the Raimondi Ruby?”
    Connor steps forward to form a shield between me and his father. “It is mine to do with as I please. And I chose to give it to the woman I love. Return her property at once.” His words are civil, but his tone is strong. The only hint of his anger is a slight trembling in his arm.
    As an answer, his father spits in Connor’s outstretched hand. “The woman you love,” he says in mocking tones. “The whore. She is not fit to be anything but a concubine. Her low birth, her questionable parentage, her social graces—none of these things serve to recommend her to my society.” The sensation is physical as he scans me with his greedy eyes. “Although I can see how you might succumb to some of her most obvious charms.” The leer on his face is sickening as he runs one wrinkled finger across my cheek, flicking one of the ruby earrings that Connor has just given me.
    In seconds the old man is flying through the air as Connor rushes at him. “Never lay a hand on my beloved again!” he screams, standing over the crumpled form. Despite my revulsion,
I’m grateful that Connor has no weapon, because I have no doubt that he would use it at this moment. Instead, he pulls my pendant free from his father’s grasp. “Never touch her!”
    Connor calmly walks back to me, folding the pendant into my palm and putting a protective hand on my arm as we turn to face his father. “I should go,” I whisper, the first words I’ve spoken since we were discovered alone in the garden house.
    â€œYou should listen to her, for she is