As I climbed the stairs of the Rise, the stars sweeping across the deep gray sky twinkled like a sea of gems, signaling that night wasn’t too far away.

“This is such a bad idea,” Saion muttered from behind me for the hundredth time. “A terrible, horrible idea. If something happens to you—”

“Nothing will happen.” I reached the top of the Rise and crossed the battlement, passing several shadowstone-tipped spears and arrows beside bows stacked against the wall as I made sure I stayed hidden behind the parapet’s solid wall.

“And that just ups the whole terrible, horrible idea part,” Saion commented as I picked up a bow and a full quiver.

“Just in case,” I told him, leaning against the shadowstone wall. I peered out the opening, finding Nyktos first without even trying to look for him. I suspected it was the ember that’d once belonged to him. It knew exactly where he was.

Which meant it was highly likely that he was aware of my presence, as well. And it was also probable that he would be really angry.

Deciding I’d deal with that later, I quietly pulled an arrow from the quiver.

Nyktos stood in the front, arms crossed and looking every inch a Primal

—a bored one, at that, based on the bland set of his features. A dozen or so guards stood behind him, and I had no idea if they were mortal, godling, or god, but I spotted Ector standing with Rhain.

The ones who stood a few yards from Nyktos wore black balaclavas, leaving only their eyes visible. Sheaths of armor covered their bodies from their chests to their knees.

I squinted. “Is their armor made of…shadowstone?” “It is.” Saion crouched behind the other parapet.

“A ripple of power was felt throughout all the Courts,” one of the Cimmerian warriors said. He stood in the front, hand resting on the hilt of a

sword.

“Shit,” Saion growled. “That’s Dorcan. He’s really old,” he added when I glanced at him. “And not someone most want to cross on a battlefield.”

I didn’t know if I should be relieved or not to hear that the Cimmerian weren’t here for me.

“Hanan knows the dakkais followed an earlier trace of power to the Shadowlands,” Dorcan said.

“Is that so?” Nyktos replied.

“Are you suggesting that you were somehow unaware of the surge of power?” Dorcan asked.

“I haven’t suggested anything.”

There was a rough, quick laugh from behind the balaclava. “Is the goddess Bele here?” he asked, and I caught the slight movement of a Cimmerian behind him. One of the warriors had slipped a glove to the dagger strapped to their waist.

“Hell.” Saion had seen the movement, too. He quietly withdrew his sword. “If they start fighting, I will join them.”

I nodded, keeping my attention on the Cimmerian. There were a hundred warriors to our significantly outnumbered fighters. We had Nyktos, but if he couldn’t use eather—

Our fighters.

Our people.

My stomach twisted sharply, but my fingers remained steady on the arrow. “Why isn’t Nektas out here?”

“None of the draken will come unless they sense it’s necessary,” Saion explained.

“This isn’t necessary?”

“Not when their presence could escalate things.”

“And if you’re telling me that she’s not here, Hanan will discover your lie,” Dorcan continued from the road. “As will the King.”

“Is there any single part of me that looks like I give a fuck?” Nyktos replied, and I blew out a low breath.

I hoped Nektas was really close.

“You should.” Dorcan tilted his head back. “Especially since I’ve heard you’ve had a rough couple of days. Dakkais. Draken. And you’re about to take on a Consort.”

“Oh, shit,” Saion muttered, tensing.

The change in the air was sudden and tangible, charging with static. Both Ector’s and Rhain’s hands went to their swords. I doubted Dorcan was unaware as he said, “A piece of advice, old friend. I don’t think this is the time you want to further anger any of the Primals. All we want is to take Bele to Hanan’s Court.”

“Then shouldn’t Hanan be here?” Nyktos replied. “However, he’s likely too much of a coward to make such a request in person. That’s why he had you act as his errand boy instead. Either way, I’ll give you a piece of advice. It’s time for you to find a new Court to serve,” Nyktos said. “One where the rulers have the courage to make such demands themselves.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“If you made a blood oath to Hanan—swearing fidelity to him—then that was a very unwise choice,” Nyktos replied.

“Perhaps.” Dorcan tilted his head toward those standing behind Nyktos. “What I do know is that the bulk of your guards are too far down the Rise, and your armies are at the western border.”

“Armies?” I sent Saion a quick glance. “Nyktos has an army?” Saion frowned at me. “Of course, he does.”

That was news to me.

“It would be wise of you to just give us Bele,” Dorcan said. “And then we’ll be on our way, without having caused any…disturbances.”

“You’ve already caused a disturbance.” The coldness in Nyktos’s voice sent a chill down my spine. “So whatever you think you’re going to do, get on with it. This whole scene is becoming a bore.”

Dorcan laughed again. “So be it.”

“How good are you with a bow?” Saion asked under his breath as the Cimmerian who had been getting handsy with the dagger at his waist twisted, angling his body toward Rhain. I didn’t hesitate.

I released the arrow, striking the Cimmerian between the eyes before he could let go of the dagger. “That good,” I murmured, ignoring the throbbing warmth of the embers of life in my chest as they responded to the god’s death.

Dorcan’s head swung in my direction, but I knew he couldn’t see me. I leaned back as the clash of swords echoed from the road below. I quickly nocked another arrow and moved farther into the parapet, peering down. My chest tensed.

I could only see Nyktos, taller than all the others in the swarm of Cimmerian, going sword to sword with Dorcan.

“Stay unseen,” Saion ordered, starting to rise. “If Nyktos is overpowered for some reason, get your ass inside and go to Bele and Aios. Charmed or not, you can still be killed.”

Nyktos overpowered? My throat dried. I’d seen him fight with a sword against Gyrms and dakkais. He’d ripped an entombed god in half with his bare hands. He couldn’t be overwhelmed.

“Do you understand?” Saion demanded.

“Yes.” I dropped to my knees behind the shorter wall, beside several shadowstone spears.

“You’d better. They don’t know what’s inside you. Who you really are. They’ll take your head back to Hanan on a spike,” Saion warned. Then, with that lovely imagery, he leapt off the Rise.

Assuming Saion had survived a jump that would’ve surely broken every bone in my body, I took aim at anyone wearing a balaclava. A head on a moving target was harder than a chest, so I waited even as my finger began to twitch, until one of the Cimmerian warriors turned toward a Shadowland guard, bracing himself. I fired, reaching for another arrow as warmth pulsed in my chest once more and stayed that way, responding to the deaths. Readying the arrow, I saw Rhain kick a Cimmerian back as he thrust his sword behind him.

Shadowstone was indestructible…

The shadowstone blade pierced the armor with a spark of stone against stone, embedding deep in the Cimmerian’s chest.

Apparently, shadowstone wasn’t impenetrable against itself. Good to know.

Rhain jerked the sword free and spun, arcing his blade across the neck of the one before him. The other had gone down, but he didn’t die immediately. He rolled onto his side, attempting to stand—

And then I saw it.

A black mist of night seeping out from the wounded Cimmerian. I fired, striking him in the back of the head. A cry of pain echoed from somewhere else, and my chest scorched my insides as I nocked another arrow. Dark shadows had gathered across the road, opaquer than even the Shades, spilling out from several of the Cimmerian.

I quickly sought out Nyktos, my breath catching at the hard set of his striking features as he whirled, cleaving a Cimmerian’s head from their body as he met Dorcan’s blow with his broadsword. He twisted at the waist, shoving Dorcan back as he turned and threw a second, shorter sword. It whipped through the air, slicing through the head of a Cimmerian who had driven one of Nyktos’s guards to a knee. Blood sprayed as the short sword circled back through the air, right into Nyktos’s waiting hand. He whirled, meeting Dorcan’s attack with both swords, and that was…well, that was impressive.

Night swirled higher and higher. Once it reached their heads, I would be of no aid to them. I could see that the wisps of the thick, cloak-like mist weren’t seeping out of the arms of all the Cimmerian, so I focused only on them. Giving up on the head, I took aim at the chest of a Cimmerian and fired. I held my breath, watching to see if the arrow pierced the shadowstone.

It cut through the armor, and a ragged breath punched from my lungs, but there wasn’t a lot of relief. The arrow didn’t go as deep as Rhain’s sword had, only managing to stop whatever the Cimmerian had been doing to call upon the night. The Shadowland guard quickly seized the opportunity as the Cimmerian ripped the arrow from his chest, turning to the Rise.

The embers of life flared inside me as I found another warrior conjuring the mist and loosed an arrow, catching the Cimmerian in the chest. The embers pulsed again and again as I quickly fired and snapped another arrow into place on the string. I shifted on my knee, finding another Cimmerian—

Gasping, I fell back against the wall as a dagger hissed through the air, passing inches from my face. Heart thumping, I returned to the parapet to see Nyktos sever the head of the Cimmerian who’d likely thrown the blade.

As the warrior fell forward, Nyktos’s eyes snapped to the Rise, the bright silver of his irises lashed with luminous eather as I leveled the bow toward him. Our gazes locked for only a heartbeat.

Nyktos’s head tilted as I pulled the string taut. And fired.

He whipped around as the arrow struck the Cimmerian charging him from behind.

I smirked as he looked over his shoulder, his lips tipping up faintly. He turned back to Dorcan, leaving me to wonder if he had actually smiled— just a little—as a Cimmerian lifted his sword and pointed at the Rise. I reached for another arrow, keeping low. I readied the arrow and rose. Maybe Nyktos wouldn’t be that mad—

“Gods,” I exhaled. A void of utter blackness had risen up the side of the Rise, quickly cresting the top and spilling across the battlement.

Lurching to my feet, I swung the bow into the darkness. There was a curse from within the mass, echoed by mine as I twisted. Nyktos and Saion had failed to mention that the Cimmerian could somehow use whatever they manifested to scale a Rise in basically seconds. I grabbed a spear, the cool- to-the-touch metal in a firm grip as I spun.

My eyes went wide as a sword came down, and the night spread out. I blocked the bone-rattling blow, holding my ground as the black mist rose above me. If I ran, I would likely go right off the Rise. I pushed back, and a rough laugh came from within the darkness.

And then, in an instant, it smothered the stars above me. There was no light. Nothing but darkness, my pounding heart, and the throbbing embers. It was like a blindfold had been placed over my eyes—a blindfold.

The exercise helps you hone your other senses. That was what Holland had said when I’d asked him why he had me practicing with one. I almost laughed, thinking Holland really did walk that fine line of interference.

I tightened my grip on the spear. I didn’t think my other senses were up to par as I vainly searched the utter stillness of nothingness around me. The only thing I heard were shouts of pain, swords meeting swords—

A brush of air stirred in front of my face, and I ducked, feeling the blade cut through the air above me. I swiped out and up with the spear, hitting nothing. I froze, a fine sheen of sweat gathering on my brow. The stirring of air came again, and I darted to the left.

A flare of stinging pain lanced my side, nothing compared to the agony of a fallen god’s fangs. I gritted my teeth as I swung out with the spear. The broad side of the shadowstone struck legs. The heavy thump of the Cimmerian landing on their back came from my right. On my knee, I pivoted and jabbed down. The grunt of pain told me I’d struck some part of the bastard. The night began to break apart, becoming grayer than—

Air stirred behind me, and I whirled, jabbing up and out with the spear. The blade hit the resistance of armor and then sank through. I jerked the

spear free, rising as an arm clamped down on my throat. Years of training and instinct took over. I let myself go limp, catching the wounded Cimmerian off guard. He stumbled, and I twisted, breaking free of his hold. Enough of the night had cleared for me to see the head, and that was where I aimed, shoving the spear as hard as I could. The crunching sound turned my stomach. I pulled the spear free and turned.

A hand clasped my arm, stopping the blow. I was spun before I could even take a breath. An arm went around my waist, and my back hit the hard wall of a chest as the darkness on the Rise continued to scatter. I sucked in a startled breath—

Citrus. Fresh air. The foolish ember in my chest wiggled even more fiercely.

“Striking me with the spear would not be how you should repay me for ensuring you live to see a crown upon your head.” Nyktos’s smoky voice was in my ear.

My grip on the spear immediately loosened. “How should I repay you?”

His arm tightened. The awareness—the feel of him so close that I felt his deep breath—stirred more than the embers. He didn’t answer, and for a moment, it was just us standing there, without so much as an inch between us as the stars began filling the sky once more.

Nyktos moved without warning, whirling us around. He trapped me between the parapet wall and his body as a rush of air swept up from inside the courtyard of the Rise. Large, powerful wings swept over our heads. My heart tripped over itself as a spiked tail grazed the top of the parapet wall that my cheek was now pressed against. A draken had just arrived, but I wasn’t thinking about that. My mind—good gods, there was something wrong with my thoughts because they immediately went to a wholly inappropriate place, conjuring up the memories of Nyktos behind me, his large and powerful body caging mine just as it did now, leaving no space between us. No opportunity to even move my head. There had been no clothes between us then either, when he took me from behind, branding my skin, claiming me. The memory was fresh and acute, sending a bolt of dizzying lust through me.

“Fuck,” Nyktos growled, his breath hot against my cheek. “You will be the death of me.”

I must’ve projected, but this was a rare moment when I didn’t care. “We both know that’s not possible,” I whispered as the draken landed on the other side of the Rise.

He made a rough sound as the hand at my wrist slid up my arm. I opened my eyes, able to see the row of pointed horns framing Nektas’s head. His grayish-black wings swept back, pushing Ector and Rhain to his side. The world below turned silver as fiery eather poured from the draken.

“You’ve been injured,” Nyktos growled low in my ear. “Again.” “Barely.”

“I can smell your blood.” His palm grazed the side of my breast. I jerked. He skimmed his hand down my side to where there was a burning ache. “It makes me want to taste you.”

His words sent a wicked pulse of desire from my pounding heart to my core. “I wouldn’t stop you.”

“Of course, you wouldn’t.” The arm below my breasts flexed. “You don’t value your life.”

“It has nothing to do with that.”

“It has everything to do with that.” His breath was a caress against my throat. “If I tasted you again, I don’t know if I could stop.”

“Yes, you would,” I whispered, believing that more than I did anything in my life.

Nyktos made that sound again, part growl and curse as he dropped his arm, angling his body as he turned to the road. Surprised to find that I still held the spear in my hand, I willed my heart to slow as I peeled myself away from the wall and followed Nyktos’s gaze to the road—

Nektas snapped forward, catching a Cimmerian between his powerful jaws. He shook his head, severing the god in two.

“Ew,” I uttered.

“I’ve seen him do worse.”

“I’ll have to take your word on that,” I murmured.

“Try to listen for once and stay here,” Nyktos said, and then he was gone, leaping over the side of the Rise.

I shot forward, grasping the stone edge. Nyktos was on the road, prowling past the bodies of his fallen men. Five had…five were gone. The warmth swelled in my chest as I stared at them. My palms heated—

Nektas’s head swung toward me, his crimson eyes with their thin, vertical pupils locking onto me. His lips vibrated, pulling back with a

warning growl. I swallowed hard as I rested the spear against the wall. It was as if he’d sensed the eather gathering inside me. I pressed both hands against the stone, pushing down the urge and burying it as deeply as I could as Nyktos stalked toward the only standing Cimmerian.

Dorcan’s balaclava gathered at his throat, no longer shielding his face. The man appeared to be in his third decade of life, but as a god, that could mean he was hundreds of years old if not more. “I’m assuming you have a message you want me to deliver to Hanan.”

The way he spoke as Nyktos approached him made it seem as if this were something that had happened between them before.

“Nyktos,” Saion called out from where he knelt by one of the soldiers. “He’s seen her.”

I tensed.

“Then my generosity has come to an end,” Nyktos said.

Dorcan showed no reaction. “I don’t know what you’re thinking by refusing Hanan, but whatever it is, it will end badly for you. He’ll go to Kolis, and more will come.”

“I’ll be waiting.” Nyktos unsheathed a sword, striking as fast as a pit viper and severing the Cimmerian’s head from his shoulders.