Fractured sunlight streamed through the thickly branched elms as I walked through the forest toward the lake. What I had done to Nor threatened to haunt each step. I felt nothing with just a little bit of…something.
Something I didn’t like.
Something I didn’t want to think about.
I pictured the smile of relief on Nate’s face, how toothy and contagious it had been when he saw his sister waiting for him at the orphanage along the Cliffs of Sorrow. I tried to use that to replace the image of his father’s shocked, wide eyes. I thought of the joyous rush the boy made toward his sister. I watched through the carriage window instead of dwelling on the utter lack of remorse I felt for ending a man’s life.
Or I tried to, at least. My stomach gave another sharp twist as I passed the musky-scented wildflowers growing into thick bushes at the base of the elms. What is wrong with you? My voice echoed in my thoughts, over and over. Something had to be, right? My palms dampened, and I carefully made my way over the branches that had fallen, and the sharp rocks hidden under the foliage—hidden just like the wake of death I was leaving behind.
Something beautiful and powerful…
I didn’t feel like either of those things.
Two mortals had come for me since the night I’d failed, having learned my identity and thinking to use it to gain whatever they wanted. There were three more, including Nor, that had met death at the end of my blade. None of them were good people. They were all as unworthy as I was. Abusers. Murderers. Rapists. Death would’ve found them eventually. Five had died by my hand on the orders of my mother, and they didn’t include the Vodina Isles Lords. Fourteen. I had ended fourteen lives.
What is wrong with you?
My stomach churned again, and I blew out a ragged breath. Barely any sunlight penetrated this deep into the forest, and it was slightly cooler here, but my skin was sticky like those wood floors in that chamber. Tacky with
sweat and blood. I was half tempted to pull the cape and gown off now. I could. I knew no one else would enter these woods. Everyone was afraid of the Dark Elms—even Sir Holland. But I kept my clothing on because walking in a slip or nude through the woods just seemed odd, even for me
—
A sudden rustling of bushes stopped me mid-step. The sound…it had come from behind me. Spinning, I scanned the trees. There weren’t just spirits in the Dark Elms. Bears and large cave cats called the forest home, too. As did barrats, which grew to ungodly sizes, wild boars, and—
A shock of brown and red burst out from the foliage ahead, startling me. I stumbled and then jerked back against the trunk of the nearest elm, heart dropping at the flash of russet fur breaking through the trees. For a moment, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
It was a kiyou wolf.
They were the largest breed of wolves in all the kingdoms. I’d often heard their calls in the woods, and sometimes even from within the castle. But I’d only seen one up close; when I was half the size I was now. The white wolf.
Every single muscle in my body locked. I didn’t dare make a sound or breathe too deeply. Kiyou wolves were notoriously fierce, as wild as they were beautiful, and not exactly friendly. If someone got too close to them, they usually paid dearly for it, and I prayed it didn’t see me. That it wasn’t hungry. Because I hadn’t even reached for my blade. There was no way I could kill a wolf. A rat the size of a wild boar? Yes. That I could stab all day and night.
The wolf rushed over a moss-blanketed boulder, its hefty paws kicking up loose soil and small rocks. It took several shocking leaps past where I stood, seemingly unaware of me. I still didn’t move as it went to jump again. My breath caught when it stumbled. The wolf’s legs simply crumpled beneath it, and it went down onto its side with a heavy thud.
Then I saw what had caused the creature to collapse.
My heart sank at the sight. An arrow protruded from where its chest rose and fell in ragged, too-shallow breaths. Its fur wasn’t a reddish-brown. That was blood. A lot of blood.
The wolf tried to gain its footing, but it couldn’t get its legs under itself. I glanced in the direction it had come. Wayfair. The wolf must’ve gotten too close to the edges of the forest and had been spotted by one of the archers
stationed on the inner curtain wall. Anger twisted the knot of sorrow weighing heavily in my chest. Why would they shoot such a creature when they were safely perched high above? And even if the wolf had been stalking someone, I still didn’t see the need. They could’ve made a noise or struck the ground near the wolf. They didn’t need to do this.
My gaze swept back to the wolf. Please be all right. Please be all right. I repeated the words over and over, even though I knew that the poor animal wasn’t okay. Still, the childish hope was a powerful one.
The wolf stopped trying to stand, its breathing becoming labored and more uneven as I peeled away from the tree. I winced as a twig snapped under my weight, but the wolf barely stirred or noticed. Barely breathed.
I was truly experiencing a temporary lapse in sanity while creeping forward. The animal was wounded, but even a dying creature could lash out and do damage. And it was definitely dying. The whites of the wolf’s eyes were too stark. Its brown eyes didn’t track my movements. The chest didn’t move. The kiyou wolf was still.
Too still.
Just like that terrible man’s chest had been when I tore the pouch of coins free. Just like Odetta’s chest was every time I checked in on her.
I tipped forward, staring at the animal. Blood trickled from its open mouth as tears pricked my eyes. I didn’t cry. Hadn’t since the night I’d failed. But I had a soft spot for animals—well, except for barrats. Animals didn’t judge. They didn’t care about worthiness. They didn’t choose to use or hurt another. They simply lived and expected to either be left alone or loved. That was all.
I was kneeling at the wolf’s side before I even realized I’d moved, reaching for the animal. I halted before my skin touched fur, sucking in a shuddering breath. My mother’s words from long ago echoed through my thoughts. Do not ever do that again. Do you understand me? Never do that again. I looked around, seeing nothing in the darkened woods. I knew I was alone. I was always alone in these woods.
My heart hammered as I thrust my mother’s voice from my mind and gripped the arrow’s shaft. No one would know. My hands warmed again, like they had when Nor’s heart had beat its last, but this time, I didn’t ignore it or will the feeling away. I welcomed it. I called it forward.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, yanking the arrow free. The sound it made turned my stomach, as did the iron-rich scent in the air.
The wolf showed no reaction as blood slowly leaked out, a sure sign that the heart had stopped beating. I didn’t hesitate even a moment longer.
I did what I’d done in the barn when I was six years old and realized that Butters, our old barn cat, had died. It was the same thing I’d done only a few times since I learned what I could do.
I sank my hand into the blood-soaked fur. The center of my chest thrummed, and the dizzying rush flooded my veins to spread across my skin. Heat flowed down my arms, reminding me of the feeling of standing too close to an open flame, and slid over and between my fingers.
I simply wished for the wolf to live.
That was what I’d done with Butters as I held the cat in my arms. It’s what I’d done those few times before. Whatever wound or injury that had taken them simply vanished. It all seemed unbelievable, but that was my gift. It allowed me to sense that a death had just occurred—like it had done with Andreia.
It also brought the dead back to life, but not like what had been done to the seamstress.
Thank the Primals and gods for that.
My heart beat once, twice, and then three times. The kiyou wolf’s chest rose suddenly under my hand. I jerked back, falling on my rear.
The heat throbbed and then faded away from my hands as the kiyou wolf scrambled to its feet, its eyes rolling wildly until they landed on me. I went still once more, both hands in the air as the wolf stared, ears pinned back. It took a wobbly step toward me.
Please don’t bite my hand off. Please don’t bite my hand off. I really needed my hand for lots of things—like eating, dressing, handling weapons…
The wolf’s ears perked as it sniffed the hand free of its blood. Fear punched through me. Oh, gods, it was going to bite my hand, and I’d have no one to blame but—
The wolf licked the center of my palm and then turned, running off on steady legs before quickly disappearing into the gathering shadows between the elms. I didn’t move for a full minute.
“You’re welcome,” I whispered, all but sinking into a puddle of relief on the ground.
Heart racing, I looked down at my hands. The blood that smeared my palm was dark against my skin. I wiped away what I could in the cool grass
beside me.
I’d never used my gift on an animal I hadn’t seen pass, and I had never used it on a mortal, even though I’d come close with Odetta. If she hadn’t been alive…
I would’ve broken my rule.
I believed all living beings had souls. Animals were one thing, and mortals were completely different. To bring back a mortal felt unthinkable. It was…it seemed like a line that couldn’t be uncrossed, and there was too much power in that—in the choice to intervene or not. That was the kind of power and choice I didn’t want.
No one knew how I’d gained such a gift or why I’d been marked for death before I was even born. It made no sense that I would carry an ability that linked me to the Primal of Life—to Kolis. Had he somehow learned of the deal and imparted me with the gift? Was that what Odetta had meant when she claimed the Arae had said that I was touched by both life and death? He was the King of Gods, after all. I imagined there was very little he didn’t know.
I lifted my palms once more. I hadn’t known when I entered the barn with Ezra that Tavius had followed us. When he saw what I’d done, he’d run straight for the Queen, who had been afraid that using such a gift would anger the Primal of Death.
Maybe she was right.
Perhaps that was why the Primal of Death had decided that he no longer needed a Consort. After all, I carried the ability to steal souls away from him.
There seemed to be many reasons…
I thought of when Sir Holland had sat me down after the incident with Butters and explained that I hadn’t done anything wrong by bringing Butters back. That it wasn’t something to fear. He had helped me, at six years old, to understand why I had to be careful.
“What you can do is a gift, a wonderful one that is a part of who you are,” he’d said, kneeling so we were at eye level. “But it could become dangerous for you if others were to learn that you could possibly bring back their loved ones. It could anger the gods and Primals, for you to decide who should return to life and who should not. It is a gift given by the King of Gods, one that should be held close to your heart and only ever used when
you’re ready to become who you were destined to be. Until then, you are not a Primal. Play as one, and the Primals might think you are.”
Sir Holland had been the only one to ever refer to it as a gift.
And what he had said made sense. Well, the part about it being a potential danger. People would do all manner of things to bring back their loved ones. Who knew how many went to the Sun Temples, asking for just that? But it was never granted.
Now, the part about me using the gift only when I was ready to be who I was destined to become didn’t exactly make much sense. I imagined he’d been talking about once I fulfilled my duty. I had no idea.
Closing my eyes, I let my hands fall to my lap as a heady warmth filled my chest. I’d felt that before when I used the gift. I hadn’t done it often. Just a few times on a stray dog struck by a carriage and a wounded rabbit. Nothing as large as a kiyou wolf.
The warmth invading my blood was stronger this time, and I figured it had to do with the size of the wolf. The feeling reminded me of how a swallow of whiskey seemed to blossom in the chest and then spread to the belly. The tension in my shoulders and neck eased.
It was a strange feeling, knowing that I had taken a life and then gave one back in the span of a few hours.
My thoughts drifted to that tiny babe. If I’d had a chance, would I have attempted to use my gift then? Would I have broken my rule?
Yes.
I would have.
I didn’t know how long I sat there as night fell around me, but it was the distant, mournful wail of a spirit that pulled me from my thoughts. Tiny goosebumps pimpled my skin as I squinted into the deep shadows between the trees. Grateful that the keening sound hadn’t come from the direction of my lake, I rose. As long as the spirits left me alone, they didn’t bother me. I started walking, hoping the wolf didn’t come close to the wall again. The likelihood that I’d be around next time wasn’t high.
Traveling deeper into the woods, I pulled the pins free of my hair and unraveled my braid, letting the heavy length fall over my shoulders and down my back. Eventually, through the cluster of narrow elms ahead, I saw the glittering surface of my lake. At night, the clear water seemed to catch the stars, reflecting their light.
Carefully navigating the moss-covered boulders, I slipped through the cluster of trees and let out a soft sigh as grass gave way to loam under my feet and I saw the lake.
The body of water was large, fed by the fresh springs birthed somewhere deep in the Elysium Peaks. To my left, only a dozen or so feet away, water tumbled out of the cliffs in a heavy sheet. But farther out, where it was too deep for me to travel, the water appeared unearthly still. The dark beauty of these woods and this lake had always felt enchanted to me. Peaceful. Here, with only the whistle of the wind between the trees and the rushing water of the falls, I felt like I was home.
I couldn’t explain it. I knew it sounded ridiculous to feel at home on a bank of a lake, but I was more comfortable here than I’d ever been within the walls of Wayfair or on the streets of Carsodonia.
Bright moonlight spilled across the lake and the bulky chunks of limestone dotting the shore. Placing the pins on one of the rocks, I slid the blade from my boot and set it beside the hairpins. Quickly, I peeled off the blood-spotted gown, letting it fall. I shimmied out of my slip and undergarment, removing my boots, and wondering if I could somehow make it to my rooms in just my slip without being seen. The thought of donning the sticky clothing that smelled of White Horse smoke made my nose wrinkle. It was unlikely that I would be able to go unnoticed by the Royal Guards standing watch at the entrances, especially after what’d happened tonight. The King and Queen would surely learn of my scandalous arrival. My smile kicked up a notch at the thought of the horror that would fill my mother’s face.
That alone made it almost worth risking discovery.
The too-long length of my hair brushed the curve of my waist and fell forward over my breasts as I placed the slip next to the pins and the dagger. I really needed to cut my hair. It was becoming a pain when it came to detangling the numerous knots that formed at the first breath of air.
Shoving the curls out of my face, I padded forward. I knew the exact location of the rocky bank that had become an earthen set of steps, anticipation a heady trill in my blood.
I found the step in the moonlight. The first touch of chilled water was always a shock, sending a jolt through my system. Like the utter idiot I often proved myself to be, I’d once jumped into the lake during a particular hot day and nearly drowned when my lungs and body seized on me.
I would never do that again.
Slowly making my way onto the flat floor of the glimmering pool, I bit down on my lip. Water steadily lapped up my calves and spread out from me in small, rippling waves, which were swept away in the soft current. My breath caught when the water reached my thighs and again when it kissed far more delicate skin. I kept going, exhaling softly as my body adjusted to the temperature with each step. By the time it teased the tips of my breasts, tension had already begun to seep from my muscles.
Taking a deep breath, I let myself fall. Cool water rushed the still-heated skin of my face and lifted the strands of my hair as I slipped under the surface. I stayed there, keeping my eyes squeezed shut, scrubbing at my hands and then my face before breaking the surface. And I stayed even longer, letting the water wash more than the stale stench and sweat away. Only when my lungs began to burn did I rise, breaking the surface. Smoothing away the hair plastered to my cheeks, I cautiously crept forward. The water was a little over waist-deep where I was, but there were dips that came out of nowhere and seemed bottomless, so I was careful. I had no fear of water, but I couldn’t swim, and I had no idea what the depth of the middle of the lake was nor the area near the waterfall. I wanted so badly to explore there, but I could only get within ten feet of it before the water
started to rise above my head.
Sighing, I tipped my head back and let my eyes drift closed. Maybe it was the sound of the rushing water or the isolation of the lake, but my mind was always blissfully blank here. I didn’t think about everything I’d done or my mother. I didn’t think about the Rot and how many more bellies it would rob of food. I didn’t think about how I’d had a chance to stop it and failed. I didn’t think about the man whose life I’d ended today, any that had come before him, or what had happened to the Kazins or Andreia Joanis. I didn’t wonder what would happen once Tavius took the throne. I didn’t think of the damn god with silver eyes, whose skin was cold but made my chest feel warm.
I just existed in the cool water, neither here nor there or anywhere, and it felt like a…release. Freedom. Lulled and maybe even a little enchanted, the strange, prickly sense of awareness was a sudden shock.
Water clung to my lashes as my eyes snapped open. Goosebumps pimpled my skin as I sank lower until the water reached my shoulders. I reached for my dagger, but my fingers brushed bare skin.
Dammit.
I’d left the iron blade on the rock, and that was most unfortunate because I knew what that feeling was. It was wholly recognizable, even if hard to explain, and it sent my pulse skittering.
I wasn’t alone.
I was being watched.
