Nyktos was gone when I woke but returned before I rose, almost as if he’d sensed that I’d awakened. He’d had a bath drawn for me and had breakfast ready when I finished. He’d been mostly silent throughout the meal—not distant or cold, just quiet, and I didn’t let myself dwell on the reasons for why he had little to say. Instead, as I got ready, I allowed myself to enjoy last night, focusing on what he’d shared about the Primals’ morality and the pleasure that had come afterward. I had so many more clothing options this morning and settled on a pair of laced leggings, a white blouse, and a black vest that had been tailored just for me. And I let myself enjoy that, too. Other than the wedding gown I loathed, everything else had been hand-me- downs. But not these. The clothing lining the wardrobe now belonged only to me, and that was a strangely empowering feeling that stayed with me as Nyktos and I left the palace to enter the mortal realm.
Despite what Nyktos had claimed that morning as he summoned Odin from his silver cuff, the steed was not over me holding a dagger to Nyktos’s throat.
Odin eyed me as if he were debating biting me as I approached him. That disposition hadn’t changed as we traveled the road I’d arrived in the Shadowlands on, but it hadn’t diminished my excitement as the Primal mist enveloped us.
I was going to see Ezra.
And I was about to see my lake.
Two things I’d feared never seeing again.
The white haze blotted out the realm as I tensed. I knew it would only be temporary, but the inability to see still filled me with unease.
Nyktos’s arm tightened around me. “Just a few more seconds,” he said, his voice soft against my temple.
I nodded, grasping the pommel of Odin’s saddle. Seconds, I reminded myself, and seconds was all it took for the haze to scatter, and for a stream
of faint light to pierce the brief void of darkness that came afterward.
Sunlight.
My lips parted as the mist eased off, revealing the lake’s shadowstone floor and the still waters on either side of us. Seeing the lake split in two as if held back by invisible walls was an unsettling sight.
And an impressive one.
I tipped my head back as Odin took us across the lake. Only a faint, fractured sunlight pierced the clouds overhead. The heavy scent of rain hung in the air, and I hoped that meant some much-needed rain had already fallen—or would—and not the drizzle that did nothing but increase the humidity—something I was already beginning to feel under the cloak…the thinner of the two new ones Erlina had made for me. The soft material would soon become nearly unbearable, but it was wise for us to keep our faces hidden.
Nyktos lifted his hand once we were on the bank. The water immediately fell back into place, and he glanced down at me. “Impressed?”
“No.”
He chuckled roughly, urging Odin into the Dark Elms. I cracked a grin as I scanned the ripples from the waterfall cascading off the Elysium Peaks and spreading across my lake, my chest feeling looser than it had in weeks. I kept my eyes on it until I could no longer see even a hint of the water, then faced forward, pushing down the keen yearning to feel the water on my skin and slip beneath the surface.
“I wish we could linger,” Nyktos said after traveling a few moments in silence, his hand shifting on my hip. “So you could enjoy your lake.” His thumb began moving in idle circles just above the waistband of my breeches. “Once it’s safe, I promise we will return to your lake. You can come back as often as you like.”
I pressed my lips together as the back of my throat suddenly burned with emotion. I’d likely projected something in that moment, and that wasn’t surprising to discover. The lake felt like a part of me, and I wasn’t sure if the fact that it was a gateway to the Shadowlands had anything to do with it. But what brought the faint sting to my eyes was his response.
His promise.
“I’d like that,” I whispered.
We said nothing more as Odin navigated the thick clusters of trees. The Dark Elms were quiet, not even the faint moan or wail of a lost spirit could
be heard. The breeze didn’t even penetrate the woods. When we neared the edges, and the walls of Wayfair Castle came into view, a strange sense of nervousness filled me.
“We should walk the remaining distance,” I suggested. “Any guards who spot us will already be suspicious of two people coming out of the Dark Elms. Odin will draw even more attention.”
Odin huffed.
“It’s because you’re rather large,” I said to the top of Odin’s head. “And very beautiful.”
He gave another huff. I sighed.
Nyktos drew the horse to a halt. “He appreciates the compliments.” “Doubtful.”
“He does.” Nyktos swung himself off the horse with ease. “He just likes being dramatic.”
Odin turned his head to Nyktos as he puffed out another aggravated- sounding breath. I gripped Nyktos’s arms, accepting his aid as he lifted me by the waist. He was close, and as he lowered me to the ground, I was treated to a full-body slide that sent a rush of pleasure through me.
His hands lingered on my hips, the weight and feel of them igniting a pleasant hum in my blood and chest, where the embers wiggled. I lifted my gaze to his. The eather in his eyes had faded to a faint pulse behind his pupils.
“Ready?” he asked. I nodded.
Nyktos didn’t move. Neither did I, and the hue of his eyes heated to quicksilver. I thought he might kiss me just to kiss me, even though we didn’t have time for that. Something about seeing him in the mortal realm made him seem more reckless, impulsive. More like…
Ash.
His jaw tightened as his hands left my hips and found the hood of my cloak. I didn’t understand the small burst of disappointment. Kissing simply for the sake of kissing felt like something…more.
And while what we were now felt like something different than before, and definitely not like those hasty bids for pleasure I’d experienced in the Luxe, we were not more.
Nyktos lifted the hood of my cloak and then his. Pulling myself out of the somewhat-troubling direction my mind had gone, I turned to the wall and got myself moving.
“The guards who normally patrol this section of the wall aren’t the most…astute,” I told him, enjoying the feel and sound of the crunch of fallen branches under my boots. “They will likely assume that we’re a part of the staff since the Dark Elms—”
“Are private property?” He grinned as I shot him a look from beneath the cowl of my hood.
“Nice of you to acknowledge that now.” Nyktos chuckled.
“But I was going to say since everyone avoids the Dark Elms, and they can’t be accessed from outside the Wayfair grounds,” I continued, “they’ll probably think we didn’t actually enter them…” I trailed off as we cleared the last of the heavily branched elms.
My mouth dropped open at what I saw. Nyktos stopped. “Is something amiss?”
“The gates to Wayfair are open.” I stared. “And there are…people.”
There were people everywhere. Not nobles but the people of Lasania. They milled about the wall, their faces glistening with a sheen of sweat as some carried baskets and others armfuls of sacks.
“I’m guessing that’s not normal?”
“No.” I shook my head in confusion. “This isn’t normal at all.”
I started walking, half-afraid there had been some sort of uprising. If so, I couldn’t blame the people for fighting back, but that likely wouldn’t have ended well for any ruling party.
A fine drizzle began to fall, and many of those in the courtyard lifted the cowls sewn into their shirts and vests. I picked up my pace as we crossed the uneven, rocky soil and passed through the gates. Guards were stationed inside the easternmost part of the courtyard, but none in the ridiculous plum-puffed waistcoats and pantaloons of the Royal Guard. I squinted, searching the many entrances of Wayfair’s east wing for them.
The doors there were open, unguarded.
I almost tripped over myself when I saw a young mother and her two red-haired children sitting beneath one of the purplish-pink jacaranda trees. Their plain linen shirts and gowns made it clear that they weren’t nobles.
Shocked by what I was seeing, it wasn’t until we were close to the entrances near the kitchens that I noticed those around us had become aware of our presence.
Steps slowed. Some stopped completely. A guard rubbed at the nape of his neck, frowning as he glanced around. A father holding the hand of a young girl toddling beside him pulled her closer as he carried a sack in his other arm. Others looked up at the sky as if searching for an explanation for the sudden drop in temperature.
The air had cooled.
Not by a lot, but enough that people noticed as nervous gazes bounced over us and then darted back.
“They feel me,” Nyktos explained under his breath. “They don’t know what they feel, but they know something is among them.”
I frowned. “Does this happen every time you visit the mortal realm?” “No, but I normally avoid large crowds for this reason,” he said. “A
handful of mortals has little impact. But this many? It gets the essence pumping, and it becomes almost like a tangible entity—not seen but felt. And what they feel unsettles them.”
Because what they felt was death.
I glanced up at Nyktos as we entered the hall, but his features were hidden beneath the hood. “Does it bother you?” I asked quietly. “Their reaction?”
“What they feel is natural,” he replied. “It does not bother me.”
I stepped to the side to make way for a maid hurrying into the kitchens, her arms full of dishes. Her face blanched as she crossed before us, but she didn’t look at us as she disappeared into the castle. “Honestly?”
“Honestly.” Nyktos’s fingers brushed mine, creating a faint zap of energy. “What they’re feeling is instinct, and that instinct is telling them not to loiter near me. And they shouldn’t.”
Because all Primals impacted mortals simply by being in their company. The length of time before a mortal felt a Primal’s effect varied. Some mortals would be more susceptible to violence or lust, and some Primals would likely ensure their presence was felt, but Nyktos was a Primal of Death. His presence could kill if he wasn’t careful.
“How can I be bothered by their sense of self-perseveration?” Nyktos finished.
But Kolis had been.
It was part of what had driven his jealousy toward his brother—the fear that even I could sense in those who passed as we walked the hall mostly used by servants.
I nibbled on my lip as my steps slowed. Unease grew, having much to do with the fact that no one had stopped to question us. It caused my fear regarding some sort of uprising to grow, but it was also because the last time I’d walked this hall was the last day I’d spent in the mortal realm.
My instinct guided me to the one place I did not want to revisit. The Great Hall.
Nyktos’s hand brushed mine once more. “You okay?”
Stomach churning like the fans overhead, I nodded. “Yeah. Yes.” I cleared my throat. “I’m just concerned about Ezra.”
I could feel Nyktos’s gaze on me as I forced myself through the marble pillars carved with golden scrollwork. Breathe in, I reminded myself as my chest tightened.
The Great Hall was as I remembered. Mostly.
Mauve banners hung from the dome-shaped glass ceiling, bearing the golden Royal Crest, that of a crown of leaves with a sword striking through the center. It still reminded me of someone being stabbed in the head. Hold. Far fewer people milled about the Hall. My gaze traveled down the marble and limestone and over the gold veining. The crack in the floor was new, caused by Nyktos’s arrival when he saw what Tavius had been doing to me. Breathe out. I started to look at the statue of Kolis—
Nyktos’s hand curled around mine, sending a jolt of surprise through me. My gaze flew to him.
His head was tilted forward. “I believe I’ve found your stepsister.” He then gently squeezed my hand before releasing it.
Swallowing, I made myself look past the statue I’d been forced on my knees before as my stepbrother split my back open with a whip.
Two diamond and citrine thrones sat on the raised dais at the end of the Hall. Neither was draped in white or scattered with black roses to mourn their lost King.
The King I’d ultimately killed.
I winced, reminding myself that how I felt about that had more to do with the embers than with me.
The thrones were empty, but I saw Ezra. Suddenly, it was easier to breathe.
Ezra sat in a much less elaborate chair at the foot of the dais, her light brown hair swept up in a neat bun. There was no crown upon her head as she listened to a man across the table from her speak, one who leaned over a stack of parchment. The man’s clothing and posture screamed noble, and the angry flush to his olive skin warned that he was unhappy. Guards stood behind Ezra, two to her left and two to her right. They were dressed as those on the wall were: tunics, breeches, armor.
The corners of my lips turned up as I saw that Ezra, despite the humidity, wore a neatly tailored waistcoat minus any frills. My smile spread when I spotted the familiar tilt of her stubborn jaw as she responded to whatever the man was saying. I was sure it was keen, clever, and deliciously cutting.
“I believe she is hosting a town hall,” Nyktos commented.
Heart slowing, I nodded. That was exactly what Ezra was doing, and just as I’d imagined, she did not hold one from a throne or a balcony, far away from the people. She sat with them.
And she’d also opened the gates of Wayfair to them.
Nyktos’s head turned sharply. A guard slowly approached us, his hand on the hilt of his sword.
He stopped several feet from us, his throat bobbing. “The Queen is currently seeing the last of those who wish to speak with her today,” he said, and it pleased me to hear her referred to as Queen. “You may make an appointment to do so tomorrow by visiting the record keeper at the gatehouse.”
It also pleased me that what Ezra was doing appeared to be more than just holding a weekly or biweekly town hall.
“We cannot return tomorrow,” Nyktos spoke, and I swore the air chilled a bit. “We need to speak with the Queen today, and as soon as possible.”
The guard visibly paled as he stared into the shadowy recesses of Nyktos’s hood.
I cut the Primal a look and then stepped forward. “We do need to speak with her today,” I said, gentling my tone. “And I believe she will make time for us if you tell her that Sera is here to speak with her.”
The guard didn’t budge as his wide-eyed gaze bounced between Nyktos and me. I could sense that he was about to hold his ground.
“Go,” Nyktos urged, moving a foot closer in that quiet, unnatural way of his. He tilted his head back, letting the hood slip a few inches. “And
speak with your Queen. Now.”
Whatever the guard heard or saw got him moving. He pivoted, hurrying
off.
I turned to Nyktos. “Did you use compulsion?”
“No.” He laughed softly. “I think I just scared him.”
“Rude,” I murmured as I walked the secondary wall of pillars
encircling the main floor and entered the private alcove furnished with settees and chairs.
He laughed again. “Perhaps.”
I snorted, scanning those in the Hall, telling myself that I wasn’t looking for one person in particular, but I didn’t see her, nonetheless. We neared the dais just in time to see the guard work up his nerve to interrupt his Queen. I saw the moment he spoke my name.
Ezra went rigid for a heartbeat and then shot to her feet, pressing a hand to her slender waist. The noble across from her hastily followed as she searched the floor. I waited, knowing Ezra would remember that I’d favored the alcove the few times I was in the Great Hall.
She took a step forward before turning sharply. When she spotted us, she stilled once more, likely in disbelief. But Ezra was not one prone to panic. She was logical and calm in all things, and she was then, as well.
Turning to the man, she excused herself. The noble wasn’t thrilled, but she turned her back on him anyway. She spoke to her guards, who scattered, quickly clearing the Great Hall, taking the noble with them.
Nyktos was quiet as Ezra approached us. The doors to the Hall closed, and only two guards remained, stationed in front of them.
Ezra halted at the top of the short set of steps. “Seraphena?” Her voice was barely a whisper as she glanced beside me. I saw her visibly swallow.
I stepped forward and lowered the hood of my cloak. “Ezra.” She jerked, her eyes widening.
“Or should I say, Queen Ezmeria?” I added, bowing.
“Don’t you dare do that.” Ezra snapped forward, reaching for me but stopping short. “I’m Ezra. Just Ezra to you.”
A twinge of disappointment rose at the knowledge that she was still uncomfortable touching me, but as I straightened and saw that Nyktos had moved in closer, I realized her reaction might have had more to do with that.
“My gods, I thought the guard had misheard,” she said, glancing at Nyktos with wide brown eyes. “I didn’t think I’d ever…”
“See me again,” I finished, and she nodded. “Because I was supposed to kill this one?” I added, jerking my thumb at Nyktos.
“Nice,” Nyktos remarked dryly under his breath.
Blood drained rapidly from Ezra’s face, and I wasn’t sure if it was because of what I’d said or because Nyktos had lowered his hood.
Ezra clearly hadn’t forgotten what he looked like when she’d seen him last. “I think I need to sit down—” She caught herself before doing so, beginning to kneel. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. I—”
“That is unnecessary,” he interrupted. “Please, sit. We do not have long, and I fear you may pass out if you continue standing.”
Ezra blinked slowly. “I have never fainted.”
The Primal smiled, revealing just a hint of fang. “There is always a first time.”
“Please, sit,” I jumped in. “He’s right. We don’t have long, and there’s something I need to talk to you about.”
Ezra sat in the chair. “Is it the supposed-to-kill-him part?”
I choked on a laugh as I sat on the settee next to her chair. Nyktos crossed his arms, remaining standing. “It kind of is,” I said, glancing around the now-empty floor of the Great Hall. My gaze got caught on the statue of Kolis for a brief second. I swallowed. “I’m sure you have many questions.”
“Loads,” she murmured.
“As do I,” I went on. “But as I said, we cannot stay long, so I must get right to it.” I took a shallow breath, remembering what Nyktos had advised could and couldn’t be shared. “What we thought ended the Rot was wrong. The deal my ancestor made didn’t cause the Rot upon my birth.”
Ezra gripped the arm of the chair as she looked between us. “I don’t know much about deals, so please forgive my ignorance on the subject, but the deal expired once fulfilled?”
“Or believed to be ended in favor of the summoner if the Primal is killed,” Nyktos tacked on, his voice deceptively level.
“And that,” Ezra said. “That, too.”
I turned to Nyktos, my eyes narrowed. His brows lifted. “What?”
“Just so you know, I was never a fan of the deal,” Ezra continued.
“Because it wouldn’t be wise to attempt to kill a Primal?” Nyktos surmised.
“Yes, but mainly because it was unfair to Sera.”
That wasn’t news to me, but it was still good to hear that.
Nyktos said nothing, but he eyed Ezra a tad less intensely than before.
Taking another breath, I faced Ezra again. Her brows were furrowed into thin slashes as she looked between us. “There would’ve been changes when the deal was fulfilled. The climate would return to what it was before, less temperate, as I believe it already has.” That explained the hotter, longer summers full of drought and the vicious storms. “The ground wouldn’t be as fertile as it once was, thanks to the deal, but Lasania would’ve returned to how it was meant to be, which didn’t include the Rot.”
Ezra leaned back, and I could practically see her turning the information over in her head. “Then what is the Rot?” she asked.
“You believe her? That easily?” Nyktos demanded before I could answer. “Didn’t you and your families—her ancestors—believe the deal was the cause of the Rot?”
“I believe her,” Ezra said, her chin lifting. “Because I am here?”
“Well, your presence may have a little to do with it.” His head cocked. “A little.”
“Just a bit,” she said. “But I know how important saving Lasania was for Sera. She would not lie about something, knowing what it meant for her kingdom.”
Her kingdom.
I briefly closed my eyes. “Lasania was never mine.”
“That’s not true. You should’ve been Queen, Sera. Not me. If I can acknowledge that, you should be able to.”
Curling my fingers around my knees, I said, “But you are Queen, and that’s what matters now. You’ll be able to handle what I’m about to tell you, unlike my—” I cut myself off, took a moment, then continued. “The Rot was caused by something else entirely. Something much more complicated than a deal.”
Ezra was quiet for a moment. “And whatever it is, you cannot tell me?” “No,” I said quietly.
“Then…” Her shoulders stiffened. “Then there is no stopping the Rot?”
“We’re going to do our damnedest to stop it. I swear,” I promised. “But nothing is guaranteed. There is a chance—”
“Barely,” Nyktos growled.
“A small chance,” I amended, “that we could fail. That’s why I came today. I wanted to warn you so you could prepare.” I thought about what Holland had told me and the people outside with their baskets and bushels. “But I think you’ve already begun to do that.”
“Yes. I have,” she said, her grip easing on the arm of the chair. “You know how I’ve felt about how the Rot was handled. I felt that we should be doing everything we could to build the pantries of the people, not just our own.”
“The people we saw on the way in?” Nyktos said, asking his first non- antagonistic question.
“We’ve started a bit of a food bank where people can come on certain days, at certain times, if they have need,” she explained. “I’ve also been in talks with the King and Queen of Terra, in hopes of strengthening their faith in Lasania. I believe I am being successful in such talks.” A small smile appeared. “I believe we simply needed to prove that an alliance with us is beneficial. Something my father, gods rest his soul, was never that great in relaying.”
I managed to fight back a cringe. Ezra loved her father, and I… My stare shifted to what would’ve been his throne.
“And how are you succeeding at that?” Nyktos asked.
I sucked in a soft breath, blinking. I didn’t think Nyktos was all that curious about what Ezra was doing. He might have simply been preventing me from blurting out what I’d caused.
Which I likely would have.
And Ezra didn’t need to know that.
“They have many fertile fields primed for crops, unlike us,” she said. “But we have one thing in abundance that Terra does not. Labor. Paid labor, involving those who wish to relocate to Terra—at least for part of the year. Our talks are going well.”
That was very smart.
“But if the Rot continues to spread…” She trailed off. I nodded. “Has it spread?”
“A bit more. We’ve lost a few more farms, but it hasn’t sped up or anything like that,” she confirmed. I thought of the Masseys, knowing that
their farm had to be one of those lost. “It is good to know this—what you’ve shared. It gives me, well, I don’t know how else to say it, but it gives me hope.”
My brows rose. “You didn’t think I’d succeed at killing him?”
“I wasn’t quite sure you’d succeed at the whole making-him-fall-in- love part,” she corrected.
“Wow,” I muttered.
“You are a bit…temperamental. And those around you do have a tendency to end up stabbed,” she began with a sheepish grin. “I figured you’d probably get yourself killed by growing impatient and just stabbing him.”
Nyktos barked out a short laugh. “Now, that was incredibly astute.” I narrowed my eyes at him.
Ezra opened her mouth, closed it, and then appeared to try again. “I am very…confused by you.”
Nyktos stared down at her. “You are?” She nodded. “You are Death.”
“I am.”
“You are not very Death-like.”
His head tilted. “And how is one…Death-like?”
“We cannot stay much longer,” I cut in, half-afraid of whatever Ezra might say.
“Must you leave?” Ezra asked. “Mari is currently with her father, but she should be arriving soon.”
“I really would love to see her, but we cannot.” I glanced at the doors. “Where is—?” I stopped myself from asking. I didn’t need to know where my mother was. I didn’t care. “How is your Consort?”
“Perfect.” A bright smile appeared, lighting up her entire face. That was what more looked like. “She is utterly perfect.”
“Good. I’m happy to hear that.”
Her eyes searched mine, and I could tell she had much she wanted to ask. Wanted to say. “I…after everything happened here, I sent a missive to the Vodina Isles to check on Sir Holland, but I have not heard anything in return.”
“Oh.” I smiled. “I believe he’s fine.” “You do?” Her gaze sharpened.
“It’s time.” Nyktos swooped in, nipping the string of questions Ezra surely had in the bud.
It was hard, but I stood in agreement.
“Will I see you again?” Ezra asked, the same as I had asked of Holland. I gave her a far more hopeful answer. “I believe so.”
“I hope so, too. I really do.” Her voice thickened. “I miss you.”
The breath I exhaled was ragged. “I miss you, too.” I turned, hurrying to join Nyktos at the steps as the burn in my throat increased.
“Sera?” Ezra rose, stopping me. “Remember what you said about the lands tainted by the Rot? And why couldn’t they be used to build homes for those in Croft’s Cross living in the most cramped conditions?”
My brows knitted. “Yes?”
“That’s where Mari and her father are. At the ruined lands. They’re going to build homes. Nothing extravagant, but I discovered stores of lumber—at least enough to start with,” she told me. “It was your idea. I thought you should know.”
 |
I left the Great Hall feeling far better than when I’d arrived. My chest was looser, even though sadness lingered.
I hoped I got to see Ezra again. And Marisol.
I glanced at the silent figure beside me. Nyktos was quiet as we traveled the hall. He’d lifted his hood already, and I would, too, once we stepped outside. “I’m glad—” We rounded the bend.
And came face-to-face with…her. My mother.
I halted.
She stopped.
Neither of us said anything as we stared at each other. The low growl of displeasure radiating from Nyktos caused me to realize I’d taken a step back.
“You look well,” I said, pulling myself out of my daze. And she did. Her hair, only a shade or two darker than mine, was flawlessly arranged in an intricate updo. An amber stone sparkled from around her neck, and the lavender gown that flowed over her slim figure suited her perfectly. Yet, there were shadows beneath her eyes and perhaps a few more wrinkles than I remembered.
She clasped her hands—hands devoid of jewelry. “As do you.” Shock was evident on her face—features I shared, though hers were more refined.
I suppressed the sharp retort threatening to escape my lips.
“A guard mentioned someone with your name had arrived,” she continued, casting a quick, uncertain glance at the figure beside me. With his face concealed, she had no idea who stood there. “I didn’t think it was true.”
“It is.” I forced a tight smile. She would have questions, but where Ezra’s would have been driven by curiosity, hers would be fueled by the belief that I had failed.
I didn’t want to see that realization in her eyes once the surprise wore off.
I didn’t want to hear it in her voice.
I’d endured it enough throughout my life. I truly didn’t need to see her again. I realized with surprising relief that this was a blessing. “I came to speak with Ezra, and I have. Now, I must go. Excuse me.” I stepped aside, giving her a wide berth as I moved away.
“Seraphena.”
I stopped, my eyes lifting to Nyktos. I saw nothing of his face, but his displeasure was becoming what he’d spoken of outside: a tangible entity, unseen but felt. Slowly, I faced her.
“I…” She cast a nervous glance in Nyktos’s direction. “I didn’t know Tavius was planning to do what he did—”
“That does not matter.” Nyktos spoke, lowering his hood.
My mother gasped as she stumbled back, her hand fluttering to her chest. She dropped to her knees, the lavender gown pooling on the floor as she placed a shaking hand on the marble. “Your Highness.”
His lip curled with distaste. “You had to know that your stepson was capable of harming your daughter, and yet…you did nothing to prevent it.” Eather crackled from his eyes. “His death was not the only one owed that day. The fact that you still breathe is due to a grace you do not deserve.”
She paled to the shade of my hair. “T-thank you,” she said, trembling. “Do not thank me. It was not I who saved your life. I wanted to take it.
To put you where you belong, beside that bastard of a mortal you would’ve crowned King,” Nyktos said, essence rippling over his skin. “It was your
daughter. For reasons unbeknownst to me, she told me no. That is who you should spend the rest of your undeserved life thanking.”
