“Reaper,” Perry breathed, falling back. Not to run, but to protect a young wolf a few steps behind her, who shook in pure terror at the acid-green eyes of the Reaper in their midst.
Judging by Sigrid’s fairly normal gait, she was still in the middle of her transition. But there was an oddness to her movements already. The beginnings of that unnaturally smooth glide that only Reapers could effect.
And she’d left on her wrecked, bloodied clothes. As proof, he realized—because his blood was also on them. And the wolves would know that with one sniff.
Struggling for the right words as he pointed at Sigrid, Ithan said, “It’s—she’s no threat to you all.”
“That is a Reaper!” someone shouted at him from the back.
The Astronomer was grinning at Ithan. How had the old bastard managed to get her away from the Under-King? He’d somehow orchestrated this, right down to bringing his former mystic to Sabine. All for vengeance on Ithan.
“Whatever story Holstrom is spinning for you,” Sabine said loudly, “don’t listen to a word of it.” The crowd was recoiling, desperate to get away from the Reaper at Sabine’s side. “Ithan Holstrom is a liar,” Sabine declared, “and a traitor to all we stand for.”
“That’s not true,” Ithan growled.
“Isn’t it?” Sabine pointed to where Sigrid stood beside her, gazing out at the crowd with an impassive face. “Look at what you did to my dear niece.”
The word hit the crowd like a rogue wave. He practically felt them piecing it together—that the Reaper before them was the same Fendyr heir he’d been telling them about moments ago.
Niece, people whispered. Is it possible that—
The Astronomer folded his withered hands before him, the portrait of serene old age. “It is true,” he announced. “Twenty years ago, Lars Fendyr sought me out and sold his eldest pup into my service.” He motioned to Sigrid. “She was my faithful companion, as dear to me as my own daughter.” His dark eyes slid to Ithan, sharp with hate. “Until that boy kidnapped her and turned her into that.”
The crowd shifted away, all their focus now on Ithan, their eyes distrusting, damning—
“My brother’s daughter,” Sabine said, raising her voice to be heard over the murmuring, shifting crowd. “Killed in cold blood by that male.” She pointed to Ithan. “Just as he and his Fae friends tried to kill me.”
“That’s—” Ithan started, noting how pale Perry had become.
“It’s the truth,” Sabine sneered. “I have the video footage of it, courtesy of the Viper Queen. I’d be happy to show everyone how brutally you executed a defenseless young wolf.”
Horror stole any words from Ithan’s throat.
It had always been a long game for the Viper Queen. Not only to amuse herself, but to use the knowledge of what he’d done to her advantage. Her relationship with Sabine was strained—so why not sweeten it with a little peace offering?
Marc had even told Ithan that the Viper Queen dealt not in money, but in favors and intel. He’d walked right into that trap.
“He then tried to have a necromancer raise her from the dead,” Sabine went on, gesturing to the Reaper. “So she might be his puppet for usurping me.”
“That is not—”
The Astronomer added, “And when I heard what had befallen her …” The Astronomer gave Sigrid a pitying look. “I petitioned the Under-King for her release so that I could immediately bring her to the Den, to you good people.”
This couldn’t be happening.
Sabine grinned. It sure as fuck was happening. “This morning, Sigrid informed me that when she was faced with this unspeakable enslavement,” Sabine said, “she wanted to protect her people, so she chose the existence of a Reaper instead. And she has made her way here at last, to be my heir.”
There was a shocked silence.
He’d been a stupid fucking fool to think that Sigrid would be like Danika, that she might have chosen to be a Reaper and still want joy and peace and what was best for the wolves—instead of the pure hate that now gleamed in her eyes as she glowered at Ithan.
But Amelie was blinking at Sabine. She was Sabine’s heir. To name another, and a Reaper, at that …
Perry glanced between her sister and Sabine, then at the Reaper. “Why don’t you let your new heir speak for herself, Sabine?”
Sabine snarled at Perry, and Perry backed away a step.
Ithan’s hackles rose at the fear, the submission.
“Everyone knows the Holstroms have long desired to replace the Fendyrs,” Sabine went on.
“Bullshit,” Ithan spat.
“Our traditions continue because they are strong,” Sabine said to the crowd. The Astronomer stepped closer to Sigrid’s side, eyeing the wolves. “To listen to this boy spew the propaganda of a renegade witch—”
“Go to the Bone Quarter,” Ithan cut in. “Plead with the Under-King to grant you an audience with my brother. Connor will tell you—”
“Only the scum of the House of Flame and Shadow can do such things,” Sabine sneered.
“Your heir,” Perry said with quiet authority, “is in that House, Sabine.”
Sabine gave Perry a simpering smile that made Ithan see red. “Sigrid has defected to Earth and Blood.” The crowd murmured again. “And,” Sabine continued, “she will dwell here from now on. As your future Prime Apparent.”
The Astronomer nodded, his long beard grazing the belt around his draped robes. “After convincing the Under-King to release her into my care, it pains me to again part with my daughter-of-the-heart, but for your benefit, I shall. Sigrid is henceforth a part of your Den—a true wolf.”
“I don’t recall approving the request,” said an old, withered voice. The crowd hushed as the Prime hobbled through the doors. Even the Astronomer lowered his head in deference.
Sabine must have coached Sigrid, because the wolf dropped to her knees before the Prime and bowed her head. “Grandfather,” she rasped.
People gasped at the sound of her voice. The hoarse whisper of a Reaper.
The Prime peered down at Sigrid’s sallow face. Her acid-green eyes. The wounds on her throat, her neck.
He said nothing as his milky eyes slid to Ithan. Sorrow and pain filled them.
Ithan swallowed hard, but held his ground. “I’m sorry. I … I didn’t mean for it to turn out like this.” The attention of the crowd pushed on his skin like a weight. “I was trying to make things right.”
“At the expense of the wolves’ future,” Sabine snapped.
Ithan reached over his shoulder and drew the weapon he’d brought from Bryce’s bedroom.
The Fendyr sword whined as it came free of its sheath. Sabine’s eyes flared with fury and longing—
But Ithan knelt before the ancient Prime and bowed his head, lifting the blade in offering.
“I have no intention of usurping the Fendyrs,” Ithan said, keeping his gaze on the ground. “I only want what’s best for our people. I thought Sigrid might be … different, but I was wrong. I was so wrong, and I am so sorry.”
Sabine seethed, “Father, don’t listen to this trash—”
“Silence,” the Prime ordered, in a voice Ithan had not heard in years. He dared to look up at the old male. “I heard what you said,” the Prime told Ithan. “Over the cameras.” His milky eyes seemed to clear for a heartbeat, revealing a glimpse of the powerful, righteous wolf he’d been. “Danika did indeed guess at what you have told everyone. She suspected it, and asked me about it, and though I had long thought the same, I shied away from the truth. It was … easier to continue than to face a painful reality. To keep stability, rather than risk an uncertain future.”
The Prime took the sword Ithan offered, his withered hand shaking with the effort of holding the heavy blade. “I allowed our people to be forced to serve in the Aux,” he continued, looking now to Perry, “even when their artist’s souls abhor it.” Perry’s eyes shone with pain. “What Ithan has said to you is true. It has always been true, going back to the First Wars and the unspeakable atrocities our people committed on behalf of the Asteri. My daughter”—a glance at Sabine, who was snarling softly—“did not care to listen when I mentioned that the wolves might be more—better—than we have been. But my granddaughter did.”
The old wolf let out a heavy sigh. “Danika might have led us back to what we were before we allowed ourselves to be collared by the Asteri. I have long believed that she was killed for this goal—by the powers who wish the status quo to remain in place.” The Prime looked down at the wolf kneeling at his feet. “But it must be broken.” He extended the sword to Ithan. “Ithan Holstrom is my heir.”
Stunned silence rippled through the crowd, the world. Ithan couldn’t get a breath down.
“And no one else,” the Prime finished.
Sabine had gone white as death. “Father—”
The Prime leveled a cold look at his daughter. “For too long I’ve left you unchecked.”
“I’ve kept our people, this city safe—”
“You are hereby stripped of your title, your rank, and your authority.”
Sabine just stared. At her side, Sigrid’s blazing green eyes darted between the two wolves.
The Astronomer was now glancing at the distant eastern gates, as if starting to wonder if he’d backed the wrong horse.
“Take it,” the Prime said to Ithan. He extended the sword again.
Ithan shook his head. “I didn’t come here to—”
“I offered to make you Alpha once, Ithan Holstrom. I now offer to make you Prime. Don’t walk away from it.”
Ithan didn’t reach for the sword. “I—”
He didn’t get the chance to finish his refusal.
One moment, he was staring at the sword. The next, Sabine had snatched it from her father’s hands.
She plunged it through the Prime’s ancient face.
The crowd exploded into screams and shouts. From the corner of his eye, Ithan saw Amelie dragging a struggling Perry away, out of range.
The Prime crumpled to the ground before Ithan, eyes unseeing, coated with blood. If a medwitch got here soon enough, maybe—
Sigrid moved.
Ithan couldn’t contain his cry of dismay as she leapt onto her grandfather’s body and pressed her mouth to his withered lips. She inhaled deeply.
Light flared up through the Prime’s mouth, illumining his hollowed cheeks, and then Sigrid was breathing it in, drinking it.
His soul, his firstlight—
She cocked her head back and swallowed that light, his essence. Her skin gleamed as the light passed down the column of her throat, inch by inch.
There was no coming back for the Prime.
Sabine cut off his head anyway. The Astronomer, slack-jawed and sprayed with blood, had stumbled back a step, gaping at Sigrid as she leveled her green stare on him, ravenous—
Ithan had only a heartbeat to pivot, to leap off the stairs before Sabine swung the bloodied sword at him. He couldn’t take his eyes off the Prime, though. Off Sigrid, the Reaper he’d created who had eaten the old wolf’s soul, as hungry as a vampyr—
“Ithan!” Perry shouted, and he snapped to attention as Sabine launched for him again, sword arcing.
He leapt back, narrowly missing being gutted.
“This sword,” Sabine panted, brandishing it, “is mine. The title is mine.”
Ithan shifted, so fast even Sabine blinked.
Make your brother proud.
Sabine swung the sword as Ithan charged, a powerful blow that would cleave even his wolf’s skull in two.
Ithan leapt straight at the blade. His jaws closed around it.
Sabine’s eyes flared with shock as Ithan bit down, tasting metal.
And shattered the Fendyr sword between his teeth.
