Nyktos spun me around, tugging me to his chest. I barely noticed the charge of energy coasting from his body to mine as he clasped my cheek.
“I didn’t know it would be like this. I would’ve warned you. I swear,” he said. “Take a breath, Sera. Just take one breath with me.”
My wide, panicked gaze shot to his as the embers pressed against my skin, sparking eather into my veins. “I can’t stop it,” I whispered, chest rising and falling rapidly. Understanding flared in his eyes. “You need to stop me, because I’m—”
Nyktos’s mouth closed over mine, stunning me. I gasped, and he took full advantage of the opening, delving in with his kiss. The press of his lips, the unexpected flick of his tongue along mine, and the minty taste of his mouth were like a streak of lightning through my senses, scattering the cloud of panic and then all thought. I never knew a kiss could have such power, but Nyktos…his did. His hand smoothed over my cheek and through my hair, cradling the back of my head as the kiss deepened.
His lips moved against mine, hard and wild as traces of midnight and smoke flowed out from him in thick, rising tendrils. They rose over our legs and curled across my lower back. The icy touch was another shock, reminding me of the night in my chambers when he’d watched and then touched.
I clutched at the front of his shirt, the edges of the brocade itching against my palms as the throbbing in my chest intensified. Silvery light sparked from my fingers and was snuffed out by his shadows.
Nyktos was stopping the embers, not in a way I had foreseen but in the same manner that I had distracted him after Attes had left his offices. I’d been about to beg him to use compulsion, and he must have known that. Instead, he’d kissed me.
And he kept kissing me.
We stood in the courtyard of the dead and dying, but we couldn’t have been farther away from it as his mouth and tongue traced mine. I relaxed into him, shuddering as his fangs nicked my lower lip, drawing just a hint of blood that he licked away.
He didn’t stop kissing me, not until the power invading my blood retreated and the embers calmed, still thrumming but manageable.
And still, he drew from my lips. His mouth danced over mine until a different kind of heat flushed my skin, coaxed forth not from the horror of the courtyard but from how I responded to him. No matter where we stood. No matter what I had seen him do. No matter how unwise this was.
A throat cleared. I tensed.
Nyktos’s lips slowed against mine. He took his time, gentling the sweep of his tongue and the press of his mouth. When he finally lifted his head, and my eyes opened, the shadows of eather he’d called forth had disappeared.
His gaze met and held mine. There was a question in his stare. Was I in control? I thought so now that I knew what surrounded us. I gave him a small nod.
“So strong. So brave,” Nyktos murmured, sliding his fingers from my hair. He dragged his palm along my cheek as he said in a louder voice, “Is there a reason you’re interrupting, Attes?”
Thank gods it was Attes and not someone else, but that relief was short- lived. Attes likely suspected that I was not as Nyktos had presented me, and none of us knew what he would do with that information.
Calling on the bravery Nyktos had spoken of, I looked over my shoulder and saw that the Primal wasn’t alone. A dark-haired male stood beside him, face painted with golden wings.
I blinked as that painted mask stirred memories that I couldn’t quite latch onto. The twist of the unknown male’s lips was nothing like the amused smile on Attes’s, but I kept my eyes on them, not allowing myself to look anywhere else because I knew what I would see.
“It wasn’t me who interrupted,” Attes replied, arms folded over his armorless chest. He jerked his chin to the one who stood beside him. “It was Dyses. I was enjoying the show.”
The spark of energy radiating from Nyktos was as cold as my cheek was warm against his palm. “You really are bound and determined to lose
those eyes of yours, aren’t you?” Attes chuckled. “Worth it.”
I watched the Primal of Accord and War raise a dark blond brow as Dyses stepped forward and bowed. Pale blue eyes looked me over as he rose. The god lifted his chin. “His Majesty is currently holding Court and isn’t yet ready to receive you,” Dyses said, his voice carrying a heavy lilt that reminded me of the Lords of the Vodina Isles. “Others are in the atrium. I will escort you and…” He cleared his throat. “Your mistress there.”
I blinked once, then twice.
Attes ducked his chin as he dragged his hand over his mouth, failing to hide his widening smile.
“And how long will His Majesty be occupied?” Nyktos asked as he dropped his hand from my cheek and moved so he was beside me.
“He will join you when ready,” Dyses replied, his pale gaze flickering over me.
“I’m sure he will,” Nyktos all but purred as frustration scratched at my skin. “And she is not my mistress. She is my Consort.”
“Only if His Majesty grants such a title,” Dyses corrected, his lip curling as he eyed me. “Until then, she should realize that she’s in the presence of her betters and bow.”
I stiffened, realizing I should’ve done that the moment I’d laid eyes on Attes. Though I had a feeling Dyses was more offended that I hadn’t shown him respect. Swallowing my annoyance and proving that I did, indeed, have common sense, I started to bow.
“You will not,” Nyktos said quietly, stopping me with a hand on my arm. His eyes briefly met mine, and then he turned to Dyses. “My soon-to- be Consort will bow when she’s in the presence of those deserving of respect.” His lazy smile set off warning bells. “But until then…”
Nyktos shadowstepped, appearing behind Dyses in the span of a heartbeat. There was no warning. Dyses’ chest simply exploded in a spray of hot, shimmery red-blue blood.
I jerked back out of instinct, hand going to my thigh where the dagger was strapped, but then I saw Nyktos’s hand.
My gods… Nyktos had punched his hand straight through the god’s back—through bone and tissue.
Nyktos jerked his hand free, and he was…he was holding a fleshy, reddish-blue lump in his palm. Dyses looked down at his chest, his mouth
gaping.
“You will bow before her.” Nyktos’s fingers closed over the heart, destroying it in a burst of silvery eather.
“Fuck,” Dyses rasped, falling to his knees. Then to his face.
I stared at the bloody, jagged hole in the center of Dyses’ white tunic, then slowly lifted my gaze to Nyktos.
“Well,” Attes drawled. “That’s either going to annoy His Majesty or amuse him.”
“Probably the latter.” Nyktos knelt, using the god’s tunic to clean the blood and gore from his hand as his gaze rose to mine. “I did not like his tone.”
“Neither did I,” I said hoarsely, finding my voice. “But that was, maybe, a little excessive.”
There was nothing to discern in the hard, striking lines of Nyktos’s face. “He was testing exactly what I would allow when it comes to you.” He stood. “He failed, and others will know.”
“I have a feeling there’s going to be a lot of heartless, dead gods by the end of the day,” Attes remarked, glancing at me. His smile returned. “Their blood will match your lovely gown.”
“As will yours if you keep looking at her that way,” Nyktos warned, stepping over the fallen god. “I assume you were waiting for our arrival?”
Attes appeared unfazed by the threat. “I was. Hoping you’d arrive soon, since you are, by far, better company.”
“That’s not saying much.” Nyktos folded the hand that hadn’t been inside another god around mine. “Was there a reason?”
I looked down as Nyktos led me around the fallen Dyses, hesitating as I stared at the god’s hand.
“Sera?” Nyktos glanced back at me. “Someone will retrieve him.”
“It’s not that,” I said, having sworn that Dyses’ hand had twitched. But that was impossible. Gods, unlike Primals, couldn’t survive without their hearts. However, I hadn’t felt the embers responding to the god’s death either. Knowing I couldn’t share that at the moment, I shook my head and frowned. “It’s nothing.”
“He doesn’t feel right, does he?” Attes said, drawing my attention. He lifted his gaze from the god to Nyktos. “Dyses always felt…off.”
“Yeah,” Nyktos murmured, the corners of his lips turning down. “But none of Kolis’s servants have felt right, have they? Not in a long time.” He continued staring at the god, his head tilted. “I sense no…soul.”
Attes’s head swung sharply back toward the fallen god. “That’s impossible.”
“And I see none.” Nyktos steered me farther away from the fallen god. He looked at the other Primal. “Either his soul hasn’t left his body yet or he has none. I would know.”
“Yeah, you would.” Attes nudged the god’s leg. There was no reaction. “Intriguing.” He lifted his head, silver eyes flat. “We should be on our way.”
As we started forward, I glanced back at Dyses. The god was dead, but could he have truly been…soulless? I swallowed, thinking of what Gemma had said about some of the Chosen who’d disappeared and returned as something she’d never seen before.
Unnerved, I faced forward as Attes led the way, careful to avoid walking beneath the body left to rot above. I shuddered, focusing on the feel of Nyktos’s cool hand and the rough calluses of his palm. There was something grounding about his touch that I didn’t want to think too deeply about as we made our way along a diamond and granite pathway.
“I see His Majesty has been doing some redecorating,” Nyktos commented as we walked into another courtyard that I was too afraid to check out.
“So it appears.” A muscle flexed along Attes’s jaw, a small reaction that seemed to speak volumes. “I’m not sure what sealed their fate, but I believe some were Chosen taken from a recent Rite.”
The breath I took scorched my lungs as I briefly closed my eyes.
Nyktos squeezed my hand, saying nothing as Attes led us under a heavily flowered breezeway, the sweet floral scent and pale pink-and-purple beauty of the blooms completely at odds with what I’d witnessed.
“Were you summoned here?” Nyktos asked as we passed the smooth sandstone walls of several bungalows.
“Kyn was.” Attes glanced at Nyktos. “So, I decided to join him.”
Something passed between the two Primals as Attes refocused on the winding pathway. “Hanan is also here. Whether he was summoned or not, I do not know.”
Unease stirred even stronger, but Nyktos only smirked. “And why is it that you decided to join us?”
Attes stepped in front of one of the bungalows. “I was hoping to see Sera.”
Nyktos slowly turned his head to the other Primal as eather crackled in the air around his eyes.
I sighed. “I think you find some perverse pleasure in irritating Nyktos.” “I have many perverse pleasures,” Attes admitted. “But I wanted to
make sure you remembered what I told you when we first met.” His steps slowed. “That while I found your sharp tongue to be refreshing, and even alluring,” he said, his cool silver eyes meeting mine, “others will not. Especially those you will find here at Cor Palace.”
 |
Within the shadowy alcoves lining the gold-adorned halls leading to the atrium, individuals, partly clothed and fully nude, engaged in every sexual act imaginable—and some I hadn’t even considered—both alone and in groups. I didn’t look close enough to tell if they were all gods or not, because…good gods, there was a lot happening everywhere if the moans and gasps echoing around us were anything to go by.
Neither Nyktos nor Attes appeared all that bothered or even aware of the flashes of bare limbs and glistening skin beneath gilded ceilings, leaving me to wonder exactly how common this was.
“When did you arrive?” Nyktos asked as I worked to keep my gaze away from the plated columns lining the entrances of the alcoves and only on the golden, brocaded curtains at the end of the hall.
“Only a few hours ago,” Attes answered, his eyes slightly squinted. “You likely won’t be surprised to hear this, but Kyn is already deep in his cups.”
Nyktos smirked. “Not even remotely.”
“Is anyone else here?” I asked. I didn’t say her name, but I felt Nyktos’s gaze on me.
“No other Primal that I’m aware of. My presence alone more than makes up for their absence.” He sent me a quick, teasing grin.
I rolled my eyes, relieved to learn that Veses was absent, but worried that Nyktos might just remove at least one vital organ or piece of Attes by the time we were finished here.
The embers thrummed faintly as the golden curtains parted ahead. My heart kicked around in my chest. The space beyond was a large, circular chamber, but not one I would necessarily call an atrium. Deep couches and settees sat at the foot of thick swaths of material which appeared to cover the windows lining the walls, and the ceiling above looked to have been painted over by…gold.
My gaze immediately went across the chamber to the raised, columned dais between two closed archways. Gold curtains were tied back to the columns, revealing a throne trimmed in what appeared to be diamonds and…gold.
I was beginning to see a theme—a rather gaudy one—in the Cor Palace as we crossed the marble floor with gold veining throughout.
I noticed the atrium was not empty. A tall, dark-haired male stood to the right of the dais with his back to us as he spoke to someone I couldn’t see. He was dressed like Attes and Nyktos—dark leathers and a sleeveless tunic. A silver cuff adorned his upper biceps. He had a cup in his hand, half- full of a dark, amber liquid.
“Hanan,” Nyktos advised under his breath, dipping his head toward mine.
My stomach felt like it was full of serpents as I gave a short nod. There were others in the atrium, spaced throughout, resembling the guards we’d passed—fully armored and faces painted gold.
Nyktos guided us to a settee to the left, as far as possible from the guards. He sat, pulling me into the space between his legs. I went stiff for half a second before I remembered why he’d positioned me so. I relaxed against his chest, keeping my expression blank.
Attes arched a brow. “I must locate my brother,” he said, glancing back to the very…active hall we’d traveled through. “Before he gets himself into some sort of predicament I’m likely to find displeasing.”
“Attes?” Nyktos stopped the other Primal as he folded his arm across my waist. “Why did you kill Kyn’s guards?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
Attes’s shoulders went rigid as I remembered them speaking about Kyn’s guards when Attes had come to tell us that the coronation would need
to be delayed. “They were taking young ones years out from entering their Culling to their encampments,” he said, and a rumble of disapproval radiated from Nyktos and against my back. “It wasn’t to keep them safe, so I gutted them and then ended them.”
The Primal then bowed before pivoting on his heel. I watched him leave the atrium, the curtains settling back into place behind him.
“Were you not expecting that answer?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t have a few months ago,” he said, stretching out one leg as I kept mine tucked between his.
I turned my head toward his, speaking as quietly as he had. “Did it seem like Attes was…looking out for me?”
He nodded as he glanced over the atrium. The eather had subdued in his eyes, but his gaze remained alert. “It did—does.”
“So maybe you can stop threatening to rip out his eyes?” I suggested. “He could be a…friend.”
“Then he should stop looking at you like he wants to taste you.”
My brows shot up on my forehead. “First off, he was not looking at me like that.”
“That is the only way he looks at you.”
“And even if he was, you have no right to be jealous,” I reminded him. “Agreed. But that doesn’t change the fact that I am, and that Attes will
inevitably find himself having to regenerate his eyes.” He turned his head to our left.
A door near the dais opened, and a woman walked out carrying a tray of glasses. She had her tightly curled hair swept back from her face, and her painted mask shimmered against the cool, black tones of her complexion. My attention shifted to the body-length garment—a loosely fitted peplos gown made of a nearly transparent material. Golden bangles were stacked on her slender arms from her wrists to her elbows.
“Is everyone required to wear gold here?” I asked as the woman approached us.
Nyktos snorted. “His Majesty does favor the color—the symbolism.”
The woman stopped before us, keeping the tray level as she bowed deeply. “Would you care for refreshments, Your Highnesses?”
My gaze lifted to hers. The woman’s eyes were a dark brown, and there was no hint of an aura behind the pupils. Was it possible that she was a godling who hadn’t Ascended? Or a mortal? A Chosen. My chest squeezed
as I looked over the glasses, my gaze settling on one with dark, purplish liquid inside. Curious, I reached for it.
“That would be an unwise choice,” Nyktos murmured, reaching around me to pluck a slender glass of amber liquid from the tray. He handed it over to me and then took another. “Thank you,” he said to the woman.
Surprise flickered across the woman’s face, gone in a blink as she ducked her chin and bowed once more. Rising, she turned to make her way to where Hanan stood, still not having taken notice of us.
Which was okay by me. “What was in the other glass?”
“Radek wine, made from grapes found in Kithreia,” he said, taking a
sip.
“That’s…Maia’s Court, isn’t it?”
“It is. The wine is a fairly potent aphrodisiac.”
“Oh.” I glanced quickly at Nyktos and then back to where the woman
offered the tray to Hanan. “Exactly how potent?”
“I’ve never partaken of it, but I’ve heard it will leave one wanting for three full days.”
Eyes widening, I took a drink of what turned out to be whiskey. “Kind of hard to imagine one would have the stamina for that.”
“I can,” he murmured, irises bright behind half-open eyes. I stared at him. “I bet you can.”
One side of his lips curved up. I looked away, slowly sipping the whiskey as I tracked the veining in the marble, following the lines and curves to the atrium’s center. I squinted, lowering the glass as I leaned back just an inch or so. Nyktos’s arm tightened as I followed those lines in the floor again. They weren’t natural marks, but in the design of a…
A wolf.
A large, prowling, snarling wolf.
Nyktos tilted his head to mine. “Did you feel something outside? With Dyses?”
Blinking, I drew my gaze from the floor. “I…I felt nothing.”
He nodded, his jaw hardening. A sign that he understood what I wasn’t saying.
“Is it just me, or is there a design in the floor?”
“It’s not you,” he confirmed. “That is if you see a wolf.” “I do. It reminds me of the crest on your throne doors.”
“It should because it’s nearly identical. It’s the crest of my father’s bloodline. Both his and Kolis’s.” He paused. “And mine.”
The smoky whiskey scorched my throat. I wanted to ask how he felt about sharing the same crest as his uncle, but I knew that this wasn’t the place for it. My gaze drifted back to the wolf, and I thought of the kiyou wolf I’d brought back to life—how fierce and brave it had been, even on the edge of death. “Why is the wolf the crest?”
“My family has always been…partial to wolves,” he explained after a moment. “My father once told me that there was no other creature as loyal or protective as a wolf. Or spiritual. He saw them as he saw himself. As a guardian.”
“Do you see yourself as such?” I murmured. His chest rose against my back, but he didn’t answer. So, I did. “You should.”
His hand firmed on my hip as his chin grazed the side of my head. “You think that? Even now? After everything?”
I knew what he was talking about. Veses. “Even now,” I admitted. “You being a complete jackass doesn’t change that.”
Nyktos said nothing.
Taking another drink, I looked at a guard’s stoic, painted face. Those faint memories stirred once more. “There’s something about those masks,” I said, clearing my throat. “I can’t put my finger on it.”
“They’re another symbol that once belonged to my father,” Nyktos said after a moment, the fingers at my hip beginning to move idly. “Hawks represent intelligence, strength, and courage. A reminder to be careful, but to also be brave.” His whisper grazed my temple. “The wings are those of a hawk, but when my father ruled as King, they were always silver.”
I stiffened. “Silver? Like a silver hawk?”
“Like the great silver hawk,” he confirmed. “My father was always fascinated with the creatures. He thought they were…” Nyktos trailed off as his hand tightened on my hip. “You tensed. What is it?”
“I don’t know.” I turned my head to his, swallowing a gasp as my lips brushed his. My grip on the glass trembled as I swallowed. “I keep seeing silver hawks. Like the night in the Dying Woods. There was one then.”
“That’s impossible.” Nyktos’s fingers began to move once more, trailing in idle circles along my hip and waist. “You were lucky to see one in the Red Woods, but not even a hawk would enter the Dying Woods.”
“But I did—” I went quiet as a door behind the dais opened, and a broad-shouldered male entered, bare-chested with two-toned hair like Nektas—crimson and black. I didn’t need to be any closer to see his eyes or whether his tan flesh carried the faint ridges of scales to know this man was a draken.
“Davon,” Nyktos shared quietly, having followed my gaze. “He’s a distant relative of Nektas.”
“Oh.”
“Not distant enough, according to Nektas.”
“Oh,” I repeated, watching the draken hop down from the dais.
Brushing the long hair over his shoulder, he looked over at us as he stalked across the atrium. Then he smirked.
I stiffened.
“Ignore him.” Nyktos swept his thumb over my hip.
It was kind of hard to do that as he continued eying us as he went to the curtained doorways. How in the world would a relative of Nektas’s remain in Kolis’s Court after what he’d done to Nektas’s wife? But hadn’t Nektas said that some of the draken who served Kolis had been forced into it? Therefore, corrupting them? Either way, it took no leap of imagination to figure out why Nektas wished this Davon was a far more distant relative.
An arm parted the curtains as Davon approached them. I could only see a bit of the man who waited in the hall since his back was to us. Golden skin. Fair, shoulder-length hair.
“We’ve got something to take care of,” the man spoke. I frowned as Davon replied, “Of course, we do.”
There was something familiar about that voice—the soft lilt of his speech. I was almost positive I’d heard it before.
Nyktos turned his head again, catching my attention with a slide of his lips over mine. “Hanan comes.”
All thoughts of the hidden man and the draken fell to the wayside as Nyktos sat his glass of barely touched whiskey on the side table.
He pressed a kiss to the corner of my lip, one that sent a shiver of mixed reactions through me before I could remind myself that this was an act. A show. Slowly, he lifted his mouth from mine. “Hanan.”
“Nyktos,” came the deep, gruff reply.
With my heart thrumming unsteadily, I turned my head and looked up at the Primal of the Hunt and Divine Justice. He looked to be about Attes’s
age, in his third or so decade of life, with pale and sharp, angular features— beautiful in a predatory, cunning sort of way that left me cold.
“I was wondering when you would show me the respect of acknowledgment,” Nyktos said, and I heard the icy, smoky smile in his voice. “But I figured you were waiting for a small army of Cimmerian to accompany you before doing so.”
Good gods…
I watched Hanan’s lips thin. I still wasn’t quite used to the swift change in demeanor when another Primal was present—how quickly Nyktos could go from dangerous to deadly.
“Well, since you killed those I sent to your Court,” Hanan began, “you should not be surprised to see that I have none with me.”
“And what a shame that was.” Nyktos’s fingers continued their slow traces along my hip. “To have wasted so many Cimmerian lives on your boldness and cowardice.”
Hanan stiffened. “That mouth of yours will get you into trouble one day.”
“I believe it already has, but here I am.”
“And here…” Hanan’s gaze settled on me. “She is.”
Ice pressed against my spine. I placed my whiskey on the side table just in case I needed both hands. The smirk settling onto Hanan’s lips concerned me, as did the frigid power ramping up behind me.
“She is not what I expected,” Hanan said.
Nyktos trailed his fingers up my waist to the band of my bodice. “And what did you expect?”
The Primal of the Hunt and Divine Justice raised a brow. “Anything but a diamond that will inevitably be shattered into tiny pieces.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, surprised by what might actually be a compliment…and a veiled threat. “I am not the type of diamond easily broken,” I said before I could remind myself of Attes’s warning. “After all, diamonds do not crack.”
Hanan tilted his head. “But they do break.”
“Careful, Hanan,” Nyktos warned softly as Hanan knelt at our feet, bringing himself to eye level with me.
The other Primal ignored Nyktos as he inhaled deeply, sniffing at…at the air much like a predator would upon scenting its prey. “You are but… what? A godling? Or so I’m told. On the cusp of her Ascension,” he said,
and I couldn’t have been more grateful for his apparent lack of senses. “But as of now, you are just a mortal.” He smiled, revealing two sharp fangs. The embers hummed in my chest, threatening to loose violent anger. “And there is nothing more breakable than that.”
“You know what else is breakable?” Nyktos asked, his thumb swiping beneath the swell of my breast. “Your bones.”
Hanan’s lips parted, but before he could respond, he was scooting backward over the marble. His eyes flared wide, bright with essence as he smacked a hand on the floor, stopping himself. If I could taste anger like Nyktos, I imagined I’d be drowning in it.
“I warned you once, purely out of amusement,” Nyktos drawled, tone soft and at complete odds with the words he spoke. “I will not warn you again. Speak to her one more time? Look at her? And I will shatter every bone in your cowardly body and then drag you into the Abyss to bury you so deep in the pits that it will take you a hundred years to claw your way out. Do you understand me?”
It was now my lips that parted. A hot, heady flush swept through me, pooling low in my stomach. No part of me should’ve been anything but terrified or disturbed by Nyktos’s words, especially since I didn’t doubt them for one second. But a whole lot of me was…aroused. And I didn’t think any of those parts were the Primal embers, even though they seemed to throb in agreement with Nyktos’s words.
Hanan rose, tension bracketing his mouth. “You think it wise to threaten me?”
“I think it’s fucking unwise of you to even dare to speak to me after you sent your guards to my Rise to make demands,” Nyktos replied. “And baseless accusations.”
“Baseless?” Hanan laughed as streaks of eather whipped through his eyes. “A god from my Court Ascended into Primalhood within your Court. All you had to do was turn her over to me, and we could’ve possibly avoided what is surely to come.”
“Her?” Nyktos said, and that was all he said. “Bele.”
I kept my face blank even as my heart sped up. I hated even hearing her name on the Primal’s lips.
“I haven’t seen Bele in many moons. Nor would I know where she is, as she is not a member of my Court.” Nyktos lied so smoothly I almost
believed him. “You should keep a closer eye on your vassals.”
“You’re really going to go this route? Pretend you have no knowledge of a god Ascending in your Court? Or whom it was?”
Nyktos’s thumb swept back and forth, creating the only warmth in the entire atrium. “And are you really insinuating that it couldn’t have been Kolis to have done it? Maybe you’ve fallen out of favor with him and he’s setting you up. Or perhaps you don’t believe he’s able to do such a thing? Is that it?” Nyktos laughed. “Then I would be really careful. Because I don’t think you want Kolis to know you have such little faith in his…strength.”
Hanan blanched. “That is not what I’m saying.” “It’s not?”
“No. But I do believe we will see just how quickly this one breaks,” Hanan spat, the eather pulling back from his eyes even as the embers hummed in my chest. “Sooner rather than later, I imagine, since His Majesty is about to arrive. And I have a feeling he will have more questions about how exactly a god Ascended than he will about your would-be Consort. I will have what I want before the day is over, and you will…well, likely return to rule over your Court of the Dead with nothing, per usual.”
Nyktos’s fingers stilled as he leaned forward, then stopped. The air left the atrium with the breath I took. Goose bumps spread over my flesh, and my chest tightened.
Smirking, Hanan backed up as a flurry of painted guards filled the atrium, doors leading to the dais opened, and…
Kolis, the false King and true Primal of Death, entered.
