An enormous presence poured into the atrium, settling upon my skin as the scent of stale lilacs choked me. My eyes stung as golden-laced eather churned along the floor and spilled over the edge of the dais, sparking off the marble and licking over the pillars of the dais, stirring the curtains. My bones felt as if they would crumble under the power flooding the chamber. The eather spread like whirling fog kissed by sunlight, but there was something in that light.
Something…wrong.
Nyktos’s chest pressed against my back. I barely heard him whisper “breathe,” but I obeyed as the mass of swirling, throbbing power began to recede. A roar of rushing blood filled my head as the essence collapsed to the floor at his bare feet, where it coiled like a pit viper against his white linen pants, waiting to strike.
I became aware of Nyktos standing—of me standing. His hands were on my hips, guiding me to my knee. It felt wrong, in every part of me, to kneel, but I placed one trembling hand on the floor and the other over my heart as I bowed.
Because if Nyktos could, I sure as fuck could.
The back of my neck prickled. Awareness rose. I could feel Kolis’s stare, and the embers inside me throbbed. Panic threatened to take root as I bowed to the monster who had ruled my life before I was born.
Ruled all the lives I couldn’t remember.
Calling on that veil of nothingness, I slipped it on, snuffing out my fear and anger as I counted the seconds between each breath. I would not crack here. I would not break. I would not. I would not. I would not. Not today. My hands steadied. My chest loosened. My heart beat. I breathed.
I was nothing once more.
“Rise” came the voice drenched in warmth and sunlight. A voice that, if listened to closely enough, carried a blade-sharp, bitter edge to it.
The crimson gown slid across the floor like a puddle of blood racing toward me as I rose. Nyktos had positioned himself so he stood partially in front of me, and only then did I realize that Attes had returned with his brother, who had slightly darker hair but was of the same height and breadth of shoulder.
He wavered slightly on his feet and was half-undressed.
“And sit,” Kolis ordered. “Before this jackass falls on his face.”
At any other time, I would’ve laughed because Kyn did appear as if he were seconds from doing just that.
Nyktos turned, his iron-hued eyes meeting mine as Attes all but shoved his brother into a nearby chair. He took my hand with a small nod, guiding me back to where we’d been seated.
“Not her.” I went stiff.
The skin tightened at the corners of Nyktos’s mouth as his nostrils flared. Wisps of eather spread out from behind his pupils.
“I want to see her,” Kolis added. “Get a good look at who has captured my nephew’s…attention.”
The hollows of Nyktos’s cheeks deepened as the veins beneath his eyes began to fill with a faint glow of eather, and I knew something bad was about to happen. My senses tingled with the knowledge. And I didn’t think I was the only one who felt the violent storm brewing within Nyktos. Attes had turned from his slouched brother, angling his body toward Nyktos’s.
I didn’t give myself time to think. I quickly stepped to the side, revealing myself fully. Nyktos’s swift inhale fell like ice against my skin, but I didn’t tremble as I stood there, hands at my sides. I didn’t panic as I watched that churning mass of golden light swirl around Kolis’s legs. I breathed.
“There she is,” Kolis drawled, and then he was right in front of me, having shadowstepped.
Muscles tensed all along my spine as I fought the urge to recoil from the eather that drifted over the hem of my skirt. I stared at his chest—his bare chest, keeping my gaze lowered as one would in the presence of such a Primal. There were…shimmers of gold in his bronze flesh, a pattern of sweeps and swirls.
“Lift your eyes to mine,” he whispered. Coaxed. Urged.
Muscles obeyed even as my stomach and chest hollowed. A compulsion. It was a compulsion—an unnecessary one that was nothing more than a show of power. Of force, to remind everyone in the room exactly who he was. I lifted my eyes just as he’d compelled.
The breath I took snagged in my throat as I saw Kolis. Not from a distance. Not how he was depicted in paintings or stone. There was no mistaking the similarities between him and Nyktos. Yet, somehow, even with their shared features, the differences were striking.
Nyktos’s beauty was harsh and icy, a silvery sculpture of hard angles and unyielding lines come alive in an almost terrifying manner. His beauty demanded that you look upon him and be filled with the urge to try to capture his features with charcoal or clay.
But those features, the strong curve of his jaw, the high, arched cheekbones, and the lush, wide mouth…things that were so wild and unfettered on Nyktos, were utter perfection on Kolis—golden and warm. His beauty beguiled you. Welcomed you to look closer, to stare and be comforted. Coaxed you to come near.
They were the same yet opposites, one whose beauty had been designed to be infinite in its finality, to strike fear in your heart. And the other whose beauty was nothing more than a pretense. A façade. A trap.
Silvery eyes flecked with wisps of gold tracked over my features slowly, intensely. My skin began to prickle and crawl, but I showed nothing because I felt nothing as I stood before the beast that had started all of this.
The one I had spent my life training to kill.
“I’ve been told your name is Sera?” Kolis asked as I glanced up, taking note of his crown—a series of swords made of diamonds and gold, the center ending in the shape of a sun and its rays. “Is it short for anything?”
Uncertainty rose. I didn’t know if I should tell the truth, but I thought that fewer lies meant less possibilities of being caught in one. Even a small lie could cause closer inspection. “Seraphena, Your Majesty.”
“Seraphena,” he repeated, curling his lips inward. “A name that burns. Interesting. I’ve also been told you’re a godling.” The shimmery swirls moved up his throat and over his jaw, bleeding through his flesh until they formed a crackling, winged mask like those painted on the others’ faces. “She does not feel like one.”
“She is a godling,” Nyktos answered. “Father is a god. Mother is mortal.”
Gold hair brushed his cheek and shoulder as he tilted his head. The crown remained straight. “There is too much eather in her for that to be the case.”
“Perhaps you’re sensing my blood. She has quite a bit of that in her,” Nyktos said. Normally, that smug tone would’ve grated on each and every one of my nerves.
But I understood the mission here.
“I see. I also see you’ve been charmed. Clever, Nephew,” Kolis noted, an amused look playing across his lips as he continued staring at me. “Your hair is…captivating,” the false King murmured, and I remembered what Gemma and Aios had said about his favorites. They were all either fair or red-haired. He lifted his hand—
Nyktos was like a strike of lightning, capturing Kolis’s wrist before even a single finger could touch a strand of my hair.
My heart lurched.
Kolis slowly turned his head to Nyktos. None of the guards moved as the false King looked down to where Nyktos’s hand clasped his wrist and then back to Nyktos’s eyes.
“I do not wish for her to be touched.” Nyktos’s voice deepened. “She is mine.”
I bit the inside of my cheek.
“And if I wish to touch her?” Kolis asked, so quietly I barely heard him.
Nyktos smiled, and my stomach tumbled at the mockery of such a gesture. “I will do to you what you have done to those who dare to touch those who belong to you.”
My jaw began to ache from how hard I kept my mouth clamped shut. Those who belonged to him. His favorites. The ones Aios had said were caged.
“He’s quite possessive of this one,” Attes added from where he sat, half-reclined, half-sprawled. “Threatened to rip out my eyes at least three times.”
I wasn’t sure that helped.
Nyktos’s smile increased, revealing a hint of his fangs, and I definitely didn’t think that helped. “That threat is more of a promise,” he replied as
he still held Kolis’s stare. “She is not to be touched. By anyone but me.”
A long, tense moment passed, then one side of Kolis’s lips tipped up. I felt no relief, only more tension. “Nephew,” Kolis purred, the gold swirling through his irises. “You…please me.”
What?
“But you should release me,” Kolis went on, “before I become
displeased.”
Nyktos lifted one finger at a time, dropping the false King’s wrist.
The smile on Kolis’s face grew as he eyed his nephew. “This side of you…” His chin lifted as he inhaled deeply. “I always enjoy it when I see it come out.” He flicked a too-lingering gaze toward me. “This should be, at the very least, entertaining.”
I was beginning to think that the word pleased didn’t mean what Kolis thought it did. Or maybe it was I who had it wrong.
Nyktos smirked, though, turning his back on the false King. He took my hand, folding his arm around my waist. His gaze didn’t touch mine as he said, “May we both sit?”
“You may do as you like.”
Nyktos guided me to the settee, returning us to the same position as before with me placed in the vee of his legs. I turned my head, but Kolis watched. Stared. At us. At me. And it was only then that I allowed myself to feel any sort of relief.
I didn’t look like Sotoria. Because Kolis didn’t recognize me.
A faint tremor went through me as Kolis returned to his throne upon the dais, tendrils of golden eather trailing behind him. Nyktos gently squeezed my side as I exhaled heavily, resting a hand on his knee. Nektas had been right. Luck was, for once, on our side. At least, with this. Everything else? I wasn’t so sure.
Kolis was still watching me, staring, his head tilted, yet the crown not slipping an inch as his fingers rapped on the gilded arms of his throne. “My feelings are hurt, Nyktos,” he began. “I would’ve thought you would have sought my approval for such a…joyous event—your union with the fiery Seraphena.”
“I didn’t think you’d have much interest in such an event,” Nyktos replied as he dragged his thumb back and forth on the side of my waist. “I figured you were far too busy for such a request.”
“You figured wrong.” Kolis gave a close-lipped smile. “It is a show of respect that you, of all people, should’ve known was due me.”
“Then I apologize,” Nyktos said.
He didn’t sound even remotely genuine.
Kolis’s tight smile said he sensed the same. “We shall see how sorry you are, I’m sure.”
Ice coated my insides, but there wasn’t even a minor hitch in the slide of Nyktos’s thumb.
“But there is something else we must discuss,” Kolis added.
“If you’re speaking of the vassal I encountered upon my arrival…” Nyktos’s tone was lazy, partly amused, and it reminded me of how he’d spoken when we’d been at my lake. “I didn’t like his tone.”
Kolis snorted. “It is not Dyses I’m speaking of. He’ll be fine.” “Unfortunately, I don’t think he will be,” Nyktos said. “Considering I
removed his heart.”
The false King’s smile grew then, flashing teeth, and my unease ramped up. “Yes, well, we will see about that, too.” He leaned back as Nyktos’s fingers halted for a brief moment in their path on my waist. “I’m sure you’re aware of why else I summoned you, Nephew.”
My fingers pressed into Nyktos’s knee. I decided right then that I hated how Kolis made a point of reminding Nyktos of the blood they shared.
Nyktos’s thumb resumed its idle movements. “Is it because Hanan believes I have knowledge of how a god was Ascended or who it was?”
Primal Hanan’s head turned in our direction. “It is not what I believe.
It is what I know.”
“I didn’t give you permission to speak,” Kolis said, his gaze remaining on us. “Did I, Hanan?”
Hanan stiffened where he sat. “No, you didn’t. I apologize, Your Majesty.”
“Do not force me to make an unfortunate impression on the lovely Seraphena by angering me,” Kolis warned.
“That wasn’t my intention,” Hanan quickly said, bowing his head. “I just don’t appreciate that he would attempt to speak falsely to you about something so serious.”
“I’m so sure that’s what motivates you to speak so freely,” Nyktos purred, the words rumbling against my back.
Eather sparked from Hanan’s eyes as he glared at Nyktos, but Kolis raised a hand, silencing Hanan. “The power to Ascend a god is one felt by all. It is a power that should not exist beyond this Court,” he said, knowing damn well that likely everyone in the chamber—besides me—knew the power no longer existed in Dalos. “But it does?”
“It does,” Nyktos confirmed.
The tendrils swirled at the base of the throne as Kolis’s head cocked once more. “And that is all you have to say?”
“It is all that I can say, Uncle,” he said, and I tensed upon hearing him refer to Kolis as such. Still, he kept moving his thumb in those slow, comforting swipes. “I felt it myself. Felt it before in the mortal realm, though less powerful. I, too, have searched for it. I have found none in the Shadowlands who could’ve been responsible for such a burst of power.”
Hanan practically vibrated with his need to speak, but he waited until Kolis nodded. “And how would that be possible?”
“Is that a serious question?” Nyktos countered as Attes dragged his fangs over his lower lip, barely concealing his smirk. “Whoever was responsible is clearly no longer in the Shadowlands. I assumed that it was our King.”
I almost laughed, but I was far too impressed by how calm Nyktos was, how convincing. And was also too dumbfounded by all of this. Kolis had sent his dakkais as a warning that he was aware of the embers of life. He could’ve possibly sent his draken, despite Nektas not recognizing the one that attacked. He had to know that Nyktos didn’t, not for one second, believe it was him. Something wasn’t right here.
“You’re suggesting that Kolis Ascended a god in the Shadowlands for no reason and then left?” Hanan demanded.
“Who else could it have been? Only the Primal of Life can Ascend a god,” Nyktos said.
My breath snagged in my throat as the air in the atrium became hot, thick, and humid.
The gold in Kolis’s eyes brightened. “What are you suggesting, Nyktos?”
“I believe that he’s suggesting that only one person could’ve been capable of such a miraculous event,” Attes said. “You.”
Then, and only then, did Kolis look away from us. The essence along the floor throbbed as he looked down upon the Primal of War and Accord.
“Yes,” he murmured, clearly not as annoyed with Attes speaking out of turn as he had been with Hanan. “Only I have the power to Ascend a god. To return life to what has passed on.” Slowly, Kolis turned back to us as the tendrils of essence rose, coiling. I saw it again, a shadow in that essence as Kolis raised his hand once more.
The doors behind him opened, and—
Dyses walked onto the dais, the front of his tunic smeared with dry, rusty-colored blood.
My lips parted on a sharp inhale as Nyktos went stiff behind me. Attes sat up straighter, pitching forward as the god stopped beside Kolis and bowed—the god I’d seen Nyktos punch his hand through. A god who shouldn’t be standing because Nyktos had destroyed his heart.
It was impossible, but…but hadn’t I thought I’d seen his fingers twitch? I hadn’t felt his death as I did when other gods perished. Both Attes and Nyktos had said something had felt off about Dyses.
“He was dead the last time I saw him,” Nyktos remarked coolly. Kyn gave a short, muffled laugh.
“I was, Your Highness.” Dyses bowed once more. “But the Primal of Life saw fit to restore me.”
But that…that didn’t make sense. When I restored Bele, I Ascended her. This god’s eyes were still that incredible, pale shade of blue. Had I simply done it wrong because I hadn’t known what I was doing? Or was this different?
My heart started pounding. Was this what Gemma had spoken of? The Chosen who disappeared, only to return as something cold, lifeless, and hungry? Dyses was nothing like Andreia had been. He wasn’t a Craven. So he had to be one of what Kolis had called his Revenants.
But Dyses had been out in the sun, and Gemma had said that those things only moved about at night. And that Kolis needed his graeca to perfect them.
Kolis smiled as he looked up at Dyses, but the expression faded as his gaze settled on Hanan. “Just because I chose not to restore life or to Ascend a god does not mean I will not, when one is deserving. It is not my fault that most lack such blessings,” he said, lifting his chin. “Do you think I’m unaware that my vassals have sworn their loyalty to me but question my strength? That I do not know that you and a few of your brethren doubt I am as strong as I was the moment I Ascended to rule as your King?”
“I… I…” Hanan stuttered, his skin paling several shades. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were incapable. You didn’t say it was you—”
“Why would I need to tell you that?” Kolis countered. Hanan went silent.
There was nothing he could say.
Because Kolis had him in a corner. If Hanan admitted that he believed it was someone else who’d Ascended a god, something that should be impossible, then it could mean that he believed Kolis wasn’t capable of doing so. Thinking something was completely different than saying it.
“I would advise you to be more thoughtful in voicing your concerns, Hanan, lest you find yourself falling out of my favor.” Kolis echoed Nyktos’s earlier words. “And it would be considerably unwise to do so when there is another who could take your place.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Hanan said, clearly shaken.
“Leave my sight.” The tendrils spun along the dais. “And do not return until I summon you.”
The Primal of the Hunt and Divine Justice rose, bowing stiffly before turning and leaving the atrium without acknowledging those left in the space.
Silence fell, and then Kolis said, “I apologize that you had to bear witness to such absurdity, Seraphena.”
I jolted, my gaze flying to his. His words. His behavior. None of it fit with what I knew of Kolis. “It’s…it’s okay.”
The false King smiled. “You have a kind, forgiving nature.”
Nyktos’s fingers halted, and seconds ticked by—moments filled with the knowledge that we knew he hadn’t Ascended Bele. And that whatever stood beside him wasn’t quite right. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Attes glance at the guards, and I wondered if he was thinking what I—and likely Nyktos—was.
How many of these guards were ones reborn under Kolis—a Primal who shouldn’t be able to restore life?
“Both of you seemed surprised to see Dyses alive and well.” Kolis glanced between Attes and Nyktos. “Have you two shared the same concerns as Hanan?”
“I have not seen you bestow the honor in a long time, Your Majesty.” Attes shrugged. “It’s just a surprise to see you do such a thing.”
Kolis nodded, then his attention shifted to Nyktos. That smile of his deepened, tightened. “And you?”
“It is unlikely that Hanan and I share any concerns,” he replied smoothly. “I, too, am surprised for the same reasons as Attes. And for the dakkais you sent to my lands shortly after the energy was felt.”
A shiver tiptoed down my spine as I braced myself.
Kolis leaned forward, letting a hand drop over the arm of the throne. The crown glimmered as brightly as the sun. “Why would you think those two things are related?”
“They’re not?”
“No.”
“Bad timing, then?”
“Yes, bad timing.” Kolis’s head tilted in a…a serpentine manner. “I was displeased with your failure to announce your intentions to take a Consort. I am still not pleased that you sought to hold a coronation without my approval.”
I stilled.
So did Nyktos.
That was bullshit, and I doubted that Nyktos believed him. I wasn’t even sure Kolis thought we believed him. Unease ratcheted up. This felt like a game where the rules were kept hidden.
“You know what happens when I’m displeased, especially with you.” Kolis’s voice slipped and slithered across the atrium, coating my skin in oil. “And yet it seems you take great joy in doing so. I have been so very tolerant, but you disrespected me, and that cannot go unpunished.”
“I know,” Nyktos said, and that was all he said. Fear, cold and hard, bolted through me.
“It was my fault,” I blurted, heart seizing as Attes’s head swung in my direction.
“Sera,” Nyktos hissed, straightening as he grasped my hips like he fully planned to lift me and run from the room—or throw me from it. “That is—”
“No.” Kolis rose. “I want to hear what she has to say.” Those golden, churning eyes fixed on me. “How is it your fault?”
“I…” I swallowed, my heart thumping as my thoughts raced. “He didn’t seek your permission because I asked him not to.”
“That is not true,” Nyktos growled.
“Yes, it is,” I argued, scooting forward as far as I could go as Kolis’s gaze flicked between us. “You see, I feared—”
“Me?”
“No,” I quickly denied, willing my heart to slow. “I have no reason to fear you.”
Kolis came to the edge of the dais, glided to it, and those tendrils of eather spilled onto the marble.
“I feared you might find me unworthy. I am just a godling, and Nyktos, your nephew”—I choked on the word, my eyes widening—“he is the Primal of Death. Surely, many gods are far more deserving than I.”
Kolis remained silent, his gaze fixed on us.
“We honestly didn’t think it would be a problem because Nyktos believed you to be too occupied for such matters. But it was my fault, and I am deeply regretful.” I could feel icy anger pressing against my back, and I knew I might never escape this, unless Kolis decided to strike me down on the spot. But I couldn’t let him punish Nyktos. I wouldn’t. “I hope to be forgiven and to prove that I am worthy of such honor and grace.”
Kolis’s silence stretched long enough for me to feel pressure building in my chest. Then a sly smile emerged. “You are…brave, Seraphena, to admit such a thing to me, the King. That alone would make you quite worthy. But you will need to prove yourself to me.”
Nyktos suddenly had me on my feet and stood before me. “If anyone needs to prove their worthiness, it is I.”
“There will be other opportunities for you to do so in the future. But if you want my permission to take her as your Consort”—the mask faded from his eyes and trickled down his cheeks—“she must earn it in the same way I would require from you.”
“I can do that,” I said, trying not to think about what that might entail as Nyktos’s wild, swirling eyes locked onto mine. I took a shallow breath. “I want to prove myself worthy, Your Majesty.”
Kolis looked at Kyn. “Did you bring what I asked?”
My gaze swung to the Primal of Peace and Vengeance. Kyn leaned over, half-sitting up as Attes frowned. “Yeah,” the Primal replied gruffly. “In the hall.”
Kolis snapped his fingers, and two guards peeled away from the walls, disappearing behind the curtain.
“Fuck,” Attes uttered under his breath, turning to face the dais. His eyes closed, and my stomach…dropped.
“It should be—” Nyktos started.
“I command silence,” Kolis interrupted. “Do not disobey me, Nyktos.
It will not be you who suffers.”
Nyktos’s hands clenched at his sides as he held himself still, and my stomach kept pitching, falling.
The guards returned with a…a young male. One a few years younger than me. He was fair-haired like Reaver and pale of skin, soft in the face. My heart pounded fast as he lifted his chin, and I saw…
Crimson eyes. A draken.
A draken, who would still be considered a youngling.
“How do you pay the price of disrespect, Nyktos?” Kolis asked.
The Primal stared at me, his chest rising and falling in short, shallow bursts. And my heart…it wasn’t slowing down. “With a life.”
Oh, gods.
My hands started to tremble as I stared at the young draken. He couldn’t mean…
No. No.
Kolis couldn’t have summoned Kyn to bring one of his younger draken with him just to be slaughtered. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be the price Kolis demanded.
But wasn’t that what he’d done so many times that Nyktos’s flesh was riddled with those reminders, those warnings?
Still, I heard myself whisper, “I don’t understand.”
Kolis inclined his head. “A life is owed to me to pay for the dishonor.” “But he…” I gestured at the draken, swallowing. “What has he done?” “Nothing,” Kyn bit out.
My wide gaze swung to the young draken. He stared straight ahead, his lips pressed firmly together, ruby eyes clear. He did not speak. He did not blink. He did not cry.
“Pay the price,” Kolis said as Kyn withdrew a slender dagger. The dark blade trembled in the Primal’s hand. “And both you and Nyktos will be forgiven. You will have my permission.”
I shook my head as I stared at the shadowstone, horror clawing and scraping its way through me. “And if I…if I don’t?” I asked. Nyktos
turned to me, his face bloodless. “You will refuse the coronation?”
“He will kill me instead,” the draken spoke then as he looked up at the false King. “And then he’ll kill you. But not before he summons a draken from the Shadowlands to also be killed.”
Kolis chuckled softly. “I detect no lies.”
I choked on my gasp. “There has to be another option—”
“He spoke the only other option,” Kolis snapped, appearing on the floor within the blink of an eye. The eather around him spun. “Refuse me, Seraphena, and I will do exactly as he warned.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised. Not a single part of me. Not when I’d been warned there were things that Kolis could make us do. Things that would haunt us. But no matter what had been said or what Aios had told me, nothing could’ve prepared me for this. This was something I couldn’t even comprehend.
“Why? Why this?” I whispered hoarsely, my heart thumping. “What do you gain from this?”
Where was the balance in this?
Something akin to confusion rippled over Kolis’s features, almost as if no one had asked this of him before. Then his face cleared. “Everything,” he said. “It will tell me everything I need to know.”
That made no sense to me.
Nyktos stepped forward, his hands raised. “Allow me to do this. It is I who has angered you—”
“I will only warn you one more time.” Gold and silver eather sparked from Kolis’s eyes. “Silence. Or it will be her heart I hold in my hand.”
Nyktos inhaled sharply as his skin thinned. Shadows blossomed beneath his flesh.
“Control yourself, Nephew,” advised Kolis. “You would do well to keep that temper in check.”
Nyktos’s restraint was impressive. He reined it in, his chest and body incredibly still as he did so.
“He is young enough that either the head or the heart will do,” Kolis said, and there was no emotion behind his words. It sounded like he was instructing me on how to stitch a seam in clothing. This was…
This was the Kolis I’d expected. I shuddered.
Attes wrenched the blade from his brother’s hand and rose, his features hard and remote as he turned to us.
“And if anyone but Seraphena pays the price, I will demand that she pay the price with her blood,” Kolis warned. “Not that either of you would be silly enough to dare such disrespect.”
Attes passed Nyktos, the scar on his face standing out starkly as he stopped in front of me, handing me the blade. Opening my mouth, I glanced at Kyn. I wanted to apologize. He had a hand folded limply over his eyes. I couldn’t find the words as I made myself look at the draken.
His eyes met mine. Resigned. “Do it,” he said quietly. “I am prepared to enter Arcadia where my family awaits me.”
The horror clamped my throat shut. He truly expected this, and that… that made it worse. “What is your name?”
“It does not matter,” the young draken said. “It does,” I whispered, my eyes blurring.
“No,” he said quietly. “It is not a name you need to remember.” Another shudder took me.
Nyktos turned to me, his features stark and etched with deep lines of sorrow, the wisps of eather in his eyes frenzied and full of barely leashed anger.
“Do it,” the draken said. “Please.”
The seconds that passed felt like an eternity. I had no choice. I didn’t care about gaining Kolis’s permission for the coronation. I didn’t even care if refusing meant forfeiting my life. It was the knowledge that if I didn’t do this, the young male would still die. It was the other lives that would be lost if I refused. I had no choice.
At least, not now. “I’m sorry,” I said.
The draken gave a curt nod and then closed his eyes.
I shut it down. All of it. Just as I had when my mother had ordered me to send a message to the Lords of the Vodina Isles. I felt nothing as I lifted my gaze to Kolis. That slippery smile was on his beautiful face as the eather spun, coiling at his sides, and the crown burned brightly.
There was something in his essence. In that power of his.
I hadn’t seen it before at the Sun Temple when he’d come for the Rite.
But it was there now.
Something tainted. Twisted.
Defiled.
It dulled the arcing, golden light. Smudged bits and pieces sparked a flat, lifeless gray that reminded me of the Rot. What was in the essence surrounding the false King, what was inside him, caused the embers in my chest to hum violently—caused the crack inside me that had opened the night in the Dying Woods to widen. And just like then, an ancient sense of knowing awakened and stretched, rearing its head. Suddenly, I was there but not.
This entity fused itself with my bones, wore my flesh, and saw through my eyes.
Rage, pure and primal, set fire to my blood as my chin dipped, and a voice among my thoughts whispered: mine, becoming a chorus of many screaming, “Mine!” His stolen power. It was mine. His pain. It would be mine. Vengeance. Retribution. Blood. Mine. All of it would be mine.
And I knew what that voice was as my grip on the blade steadied. Who it was. It was not the source of the embers. It was a spirit. Ghosts of many lives. A soul.
I met Kolis’s stare, and while it was my lips that curved, it was Sotoria who smiled as I paid the price.
