Текст книги "Born of Blood and Ash"

Автор книги: Jennifer L. Armentrout

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Текущая страница: 30 (всего у книги 63 страниц)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

A fortnight had passed since Ash and I spoke with Keella. In that time, Saion had found the caverns. Even now, he was there with Crolee and the gods Attes had sent, excavating to get as deep as the celastite would allow. As we’d said when we talked to Attes, we didn’t want Kolis entombed anywhere near the surface.

I still couldn’t shake what Ash had said when we spoke about the prophecy. That the key to fully understanding it was right in front of us. Every so often, it felt like it was on the tip of my tongue, but the knowledge slipped away when I tried to voice it.

Thankfully, things had been calm in the last two weeks. Almost normal. Crops were growing faster than expected, the framework for the insulas had been built, and evenings were spent sharing dinners with the others. Ash and I trained together, working on controlling the eather and swordplay. There was lots of laughter and even some quiet moments where it was just us. It was a beautiful taste of what we could expect from life once we dealt with Kolis.

But I kept finding myself back in Dalos when I slept. Not every night, but enough that I wanted to pray that my screams wouldn’t wake Ash. But they did.

A giggle drew me from my thoughts. Jadis walked—or perhaps bounced—a floppy doll across the floor toward Reaver.

He looked at her and the doll as if he was half-afraid. And, honestly, I couldn’t blame him. The doll looked like half its leg had been chewed off, and what remained of its yellow yarn hair stuck out in every direction, charred at the ends.

The doll was disturbing.

But the little girl was adorable.

I rarely saw her in her mortal form while awake, but she’d arrived this morning as Ash and I finished breakfast, wearing a simple deep blue cotton gown, her hand held tightly in Reaver’s, and that doll dangling from her other hand.

I glanced at the door, wondering how long Ash would be gone. Shortly after he had finished writing the names of the recently deceased in the Book of the Dead, he’d been summoned to the Pillars of Asphodel. We’d planned to do more training today, and I looked forward to it. I needed the exhaustion—the brain drain—that came from doing something physical.

“I don’t want to comb its hair,” Reaver said. When I looked, a beautiful comb with green and black jewels down its spine lay on the floor between them.

It was a bit too fancy for a child, and I had a feeling it had probably belonged to her mother.

“Brush!” she demanded excitedly, thumping the doll’s head off the floor.

Reaver curled his lip. “I’m not touching that thing. It’ll fall apart, and you’ll blame me.”

“Nuh-uh.” She bopped the doll’s head off Reaver’s leg.

Reaver moved his leg away. “You were supposed to comb your hair. Not your doll’s.”

I arched a brow as I eyed Jadis. Clearly, she had not.

Her hair reminded me of mine. It looked like it had been caught in a cyclone. The long, waist-length brown locks were tangled and most definitely knotted.

She stopped banging the doll off Reaver’s knee. “No.”

“Nek told you to brush your hair.” Reaver picked up the comb and handed it to her. Leaning back against the base of the settee, he folded his thin arms. “If you don’t, you’re gonna get in trouble.”

Her chin dipped, and her eyes narrowed until only a thin slit of those vertical pupils was visible.

Oh, no.

I recognized that look, even if she was in her mortal form.

The hand that held the comb cocked back, and like a girl after my own heart, she threw it without an ounce of hesitation.

Snapping forward, I caught the comb before it smacked into Reaver’s face. “Let’s not do that.”

Jadis’s head swung in my direction, and I saw big, fat tears welling up in her diamond-bright eyes.

“How about I get the knots out?” I suggested, patting the spot on the floor before me. “I promise I won’t pull on your hair.”

The little draken glanced between me and her doll and then crawled over, sitting cross-legged in front of me. I guessed that was the go-ahead since Jadis was far less talkative in this form and much clearer when using the te’lepe—which I supposed made sense since it was more about communicating her thoughts instead of finding the right words to go with them.

Hoping I was half as good as Ash at doing this, I separated her hair into three sections and carefully began combing the tangles free. There were a lot of things I could be doing right now. I needed to practice shadowstepping and work on using the essence for more precise, delicate tasks since I still struggled with moving a glass without shattering it. I could have handed the young draken over to Aios and went to train with Bele since she was around, but gods, it wasn’t that long ago that I had feared I would never see the younglings again. Spending time with them was just as important as anything else.

As I worked on Jadis’s hair, she let out these little peals of giggles that tugged at my lips. It took me far longer than it should have to get the knots out, but as Reaver distracted her with the creepy doll, wagging it back and forth, my thoughts wandered. I wasn’t sure how I ended up thinking about the father I’d never known. It sort of snuck up on me and then struck me that I could visit him.

My soul felt like it left my body at the mere thought.

I didn’t need the vadentia to warn me that going into the Vale to find him—an act far too easy for me to do so as the true Primal of Life—was something the Fates would frown upon.

The dead were dead.

The living were alive.

Any interaction would upset the balance. But could I at least see him? Not speak to him, but just discover if the portrait of him was accurate? Maybe even hear his voice? I imagined it would be the same as it had been while he was alive. I didn’t see any harm in that.

I pressed my lips together as I ran the comb through Jadis’s hair. Either way, it wasn’t something I could do now. It would have to keep for later.

“Thank you,” Jadis said in her singsong, little-girl voice.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

Her face broke out in a wide, beautiful smile, and then she planted the wettest, sweetest kiss on me. Gods, I melted right there, and even more when she scrambled toward Reaver and curled up in his lap. He didn’t shove her away. Instead, he moved the doll in tune with the melody she hummed under her breath. It was just as rare to see the two of them like this as it was to see her in her mortal form.

I placed the comb on the desk, my gaze falling on the Book of the Dead. Ash had forgotten to put it away when he was summoned. Three glasses of juice, all of them somehow belonging to Jadis, were next to it, and I picked them up in case the moment of tranquility ended. I turned and scanned the chamber. Other than an end table, which wasn’t exactly a large surface, there were only the shelves.

It was once more clear how rarely Ash had used his office—or any of the spaces in the palace, for that matter—for any length of time that required refreshments.

But that was changing.

So, there needed to be more furniture in here.

And knickknacks.

I placed the glasses on a nearby shelf and then turned, my gaze returning to the Book of the Dead. I returned to the desk.

Curiosity swelled, and I reached for the book, even though I was unsure if I should pry. Just as my fingers brushed it, I stopped. The back of my neck tingled as I heard my voice in my mind as clearly as if I had spoken out loud. The Book of the Dead is for the dead. Not the living. I pulled my hand back, my fingers curling inward. I had an innate feeling that I would cross an invisible line if I opened the book that Ash wrote the names of the dead in—in his blood.

True Primal of Life or not, I still found that unbelievably creepy, but their souls couldn’t cross through the Pillars until Ash wrote their names. Or, technically, Kolis could now be the one to write their names, but that obviously wasn’t happening. The only reason Ash could continue doing so was because of the true embers of Death inside him.

All of this made me wonder what had happened when he was held prisoner. Did no souls cross over? Intuition told me they did, but I didn’t understand how.

I did know who often took Ash’s place at the Pillars. It was the same god standing outside the office right now. I spun toward the office doors and shouted, “Rhahar!”

The god opened the door a moment later, his starlit dark brown gaze darting between the young draken and me. “Yes, mey—” He caught himself, his hand firming on the hilt of his sword. “Yes, Seraphena?”

“Sera is just fine,” I told him. “I have a random question for you.”

“I hope it doesn’t end in you shadowstepping somewhere,” he remarked. “Or asking me to train with you.”

Reaver let out a little laugh and then ducked his head, whispering something to Jadis.

“No,” I sighed. “And I’m sorry about that.”

“You already apologized three times,” he replied. “You don’t need to keep doing so. Just take one of us with you next time. So, what’s your question?”

I grinned. “Did any souls pass through the Pillars while Nyktos was held in Dalos?”

An eyebrow rose. “That really is a random question, but yes, souls crossed over.”

“How?” Picking up the tail of my braid, I leaned against the desk. “From what I understand, souls can’t cross between the Pillars unless Nyktos writes their names in the book.”

“That was the case. Souls would get stuck waiting outside the Pillars if Nyktos was…unavailable.” He shifted, widening his stance. “Sometimes, for a few days. The longest was a couple of weeks.”

If Ash couldn’t write the names for days or weeks, it was because of Kolis. My gaze landed on the couch. Or possibly even Veses. The anger that always occupied my thoughts of her was stronger now that I’d seen her in Dalos. Knew what she went through.

Reaver’s head lifted, his alert gaze swinging toward me. The notam. It wasn’t just my anxiety he could feel. Instinct told me it was any extreme emotion. I checked on Jadis, but she was still humming, thankfully oblivious to what I felt.

I breathed deeply through my nose and then exhaled slowly, tamping down the anger the best I could. “Did he come up with some sort of bypass?”

“He did a few years ago so the souls wouldn’t have to dwell in a state of purgatory.” Rhahar leaned against the doorframe. “When Nyktos is…unable to write the names, I do it for him.”

Surprise flickered through me as I curled my arm back, cupping the back of Reaver’s neck. “How is that…?” I trailed off as the answer to my question rapidly formed. “Because he took your soul when Phanos wanted to punish you and your cousin, and then…he did release it back to you.”

Rhahar’s eyes widened. “How did you know that?”

“Foresight.” I tapped my finger off my temple. “Or something like that. Supposedly, Eythos had something similar.”

“I’d heard that he had keen foresight. Something close to precognition.” Rhahar swallowed. “If you could figure it out, why did you ask?”

“This intuition thing is really hit or miss,” I said. “And by that, I mean it’s mostly a miss.”

His lips pinched, and then he blinked several times. “Yes, he did release Saion’s and my soul back to us.”

“Knew it,” I murmured. “Because your soul was held by him, it allows you to know the names of the deceased.”

“Yes, but that’s not the only reason. I had to take his blood, and it only works when I’m holding the Book of the Dead. Rhain can also do it.” He idly scratched his chin. “Just in case something should happen while we’re both out of pocket.”

“That was very smart of him,” I said.

Rhahar’s chin lifted. “Nyktos is one of the smartest beings I know.”

I smiled, affected by Rhahar’s loyalty and moved by his willingness to share this information with me. It hadn’t always been this way. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” he said, inclining his head. “Is there anything else you need?”

“No, but this was…nice.” Warmth crept into my cheeks. “I mean, talking with you. About Ash and stuff,” I stammered as Reaver slowly turned his head toward me once more. My neck continued to heat. “I know we really haven’t had the time in the past, and, well…things are different now.”

“It has been nice.” A moment passed. “And things are different now.”

“Because I’m the true Primal of Life and the Queen,” I surmised.

“The foresight thing truly is more of a miss than a hit.” A faint smile appeared on his handsome face. “It has little to do with that.”

“Really?” I drawled.

He nodded. “You risked your life for Nyktos and the Shadowlands.” Stepping farther into the office, he lowered his voice. “And for Rhain.”

My stomach hollowed, and the heat drained from my skin.

“I…I don’t know how you convinced Kolis to release him alive, and Rhain has never gone into a lot of detail…” he said, pressing his right palm to his chest as he glanced at the younglings. “But I know it must have come at some cost to you. You had no reason to do it—not for him. Not even for the Shadowlands when Kyn attacked.”

“That’s not true,” I whispered.

“But it is.” Eather pulsed in his eyes. “We never gave you a reason to, yet you continued giving us ones.” His shoulders squared. “That is why things are different now.”

I opened my mouth but didn’t know what to say. I always sort of wanted to crawl into myself when confronted with these types of situations, where someone said something nice and there were no expectations. No strings attached. But even more so with this. And it had little to do with Nektas being correct when he said I was terrible at accepting praise of any kind.

Luckily, the sound of approaching footsteps put an end to my awkwardness.

For a brief second.

The very auburn-haired god Rhahar had just spoken about appeared in the doorway. I tamped down the wariness that came with his presence. It wasn’t his fault. It was mine. All mine.

“If you’re looking for Nyktos, he’s at the Pillars,” I told him as Rhahar faced the other god.

“I know.” Rhain cleared his throat. “I’m here to see if Rhahar wanted something for lunch.”

“You saved some for me this time?” Rhahar laughed. “I’m shocked.”

“Next time, I’ll make sure I forget,” Rhain replied before glancing into the office. “What about you all?”

“I’m good,” I said, turning to the younglings. “I’m sure they’re hungry, though.”

Both Jadis and Reaver nodded eagerly. The former waved at Rhain, and he smiled down at her, his dark amber eyes warming.

“All right. I’ll go grab something for you all.” He started to turn away, then stopped. “I almost forgot. Just a heads-up, Thierran is staying in one of the rooms on the second floor until one of the insulas becomes available.”

I nodded.

“I doubt you’ll see much of him,” Rhain quickly assured me.

Realizing my thoughts showed on my face, I shook my head. “It’s not that. Did we not have space available for him in Lethe?”

“We have space, but we’ve been saving it for those we don’t want to put in a…” He glanced at the younglings. “Complicated situation.”

He meant a dangerous situation in case a war broke out, which made me laugh.

Rhain’s brows rose.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s just funny that we’re okay with putting Thierran in a potentially complicated situation.”

Rhahar snorted. “You met him, right?”

I nodded. “He seems nice.”

Both gods stared at me.

“What?”

Rhahar curtly shook his head. “I’ve just never heard anyone describe Thierran as nice.”

“Or any oneirou,” Rhain muttered and then said louder, “but especially that one. You saw him when that thing went down in the throne room. He was more worried about getting—” His lips pursed as he realized Reaver was listening intently. “He was more worried about getting stuff in his wine.”

My lips curved up. “Yeah, he was.”

“And that amuses you.” Rhain coughed. “All right, then. I think I’ll leave now.” He turned, frowning at the glasses on the shelf.

“Oh! I have a tiny job for you.” I clasped my hands together as Rhain faced me. “Is there a small table or something we can bring in here to place refreshments and stuff on? And have it not be removed like the other tables? I would do it myself, but I’m not sure I should randomly take a table from another room.”

Rhain tilted his head. “I can find one for you.”

“Great.”

“Is that all?” he asked.

I nodded and then thought differently. “Maybe an additional chair? Or two?”

Rhain stopped at the doors. “Two chairs?” he repeated, and I nodded. “Nyktos tends to be a minimalist regarding the spaces he spends time in.”

Didn’t I know it. “The space is big enough, isn’t it, Reaver?”

He nodded. “It is.”

“We could maybe place them across from the settee,” I suggested. “I’m sure Nyktos won’t even notice.”

“He’ll notice,” Rhain stated flatly.

“It’ll be okay,” I assured him.

Rhahar grinned. “We’ll get some chairs.”

“A table and two chairs,” Rhain said. “Is that all?”

“Yes.”

He hesitated. “You sure?”

I nodded. “Thank you.” Then I gave him a wave, which Jadis mimicked, nearly smacking Reaver in the face.

My redecoration plans took center stage as I watched Jadis and Reaver, who quickly devoured the sandwiches Rhain had returned with. It was nice to think about something so mundane. Figuring that at least Jadis would soon be taking a nap, I found her blanket in the credenza and tossed it onto the couch. Her eyes were getting heavy-lidded—

My chest suddenly hummed, causing me to stiffen. I knew what that feeling meant.

A Primal was here.

And I knew in my bones it wasn’t Ash.

CHAPTER THIRTY

The humming intensified as instinct warned me this wasn’t Attes either. I spun toward the younglings. “Stay here.”

“A Primal is here.” Reaver halted in the process of lifting Jadis. She giggled as her feet dangled above the floor. “And you’re worried.”

Damn that notam.

I crossed the distance between us and knelt. “I am, and that’s why I need you to stay here with Jadis.”

His stubborn gaze met mine as he set Jadis aside. “But you are meyaah Liessa—”

Jadis had stopped laughing, having picked up on the swift changes in the chamber. She dropped her doll and pressed herself against Reaver, wrapping her arms around him. “Scary,” she whispered, her eyes bigger and rounder than I’d ever seen them.

“It’s okay,” I assured her, placing a hand on each of their cheeks. “You don’t need to be scared, sweetheart. Not when Reaver is with you. He will keep you safe.” My gaze shifted to Reaver. “Right? Remember what I asked of you before?”

He glanced between us and nodded. “Always,” he said. “I promised you.”

“That’s right.” I kissed his forehead and then Jadis’s.

Reaver folded an arm over Jadis’s shoulders as I rose and turned. Forcing myself not to bolt from the chamber and scare Jadis further, I walked out of Ash’s office.

Damn it. I shouldn’t have been thinking about how calm things were. I’d jinxed myself.

I closed the doors behind me. “A Primal has arrived,” I told Rhahar, who now stood with Kars. “And it’s not Ash or Attes.”

Then I ran.

“Sera!” Rhahar exclaimed.

I didn’t slow down as I raced down the corridor, picking up speed as I reached the closest exit. Kars’ curse got lost in the pounding of my heart. I willed the door open, catching it before it crashed against the shadowstone wall.

I spotted Aios in the courtyard, speaking with Bele. Her buttercream-colored gown fluttered around her slippered feet as she turned toward me, just as Bele’s eyes flashed an intense silver.

“Fuck,” Bele spat, her hand going to the sheath on her forearm. “I feel them.”

It occurred to me then that I’d picked up on the Primal’s arrival before any of them had, just as I had felt Kyn’s presence before even his brother did, but there was no time to boast. “Aios,” I said, slowing. “Make sure Reaver and Jadis remain inside. They are in the office.”

Aios nodded, grabbed fistfuls of her skirt, and without hesitation, took off in the direction I’d come from just as a horn blew at the entrance of the Rise, snapping my head around. My hands fisted. The Primal was at the gates. I started for them but stopped as Kars and Rhahar poured out the door.

“Do you know who it is?” Bele asked.

I shook my head. “I want to see them before they see me.” I pivoted back to the side of the Rise that faced the Dying Woods. “Go to the gates and ensure that no one gets past them,” I ordered.

A savage smile appeared as eather lit up the veins under her eyes. “You got it.”

Bele was a blur of black and gray as I turned to Rhahar and Kars. “The same—”

“Nyktos is at the Pillars,” Rhahar cut in. “He’s bound to them until he finishes. That means we back you up whether you like it or not,” Rhahar cut in. “That is our duty.”

“Fine,” I bit out. “Stay below and behind the Rise, at least.”

I didn’t wait for their answer, knowing they would obey. Quickly climbing the steep staircase, I reached the top and started running again, heading for the gates. The hair Ash had braided this morning thumped off my back as I rounded the corner of the Rise, Rhahar and Kars keeping pace with me on the ground below. I spotted archers already in their nests, shadowstone-tipped arrowheads pointed down.

Fuck.

Whoever had arrived was definitely not someone like Keella.

Gods, if it was Kyn returning for his payment again…

It would be bad.

Because while Ash had been able to stop himself yesterday, I wasn’t sure I could.

The front of the courtyard came into view as the area between my shoulder blades twinged. Several guards stood at the ready at the closed gates, their swords glinting in the sunlight. Bele was with them. My gaze flicked up as an auburn-haired god ascended the steep stairs.

Rhain didn’t look in my direction as he walked toward the lower wall above the gate, but he lifted a hand as if to warn me off. I slowed, hidden behind the narrow wall of the battlement. But if I felt this Primal?

They felt me.

Several guards bowed as I passed. I wanted to tell them to stop, but I kept my mouth shut for once.

Rhain moved to the battlement, where it curved out, and exposed himself from the waist up. He placed his hands on the ledge before him as the not-too-distant rumble of warning came from the sky. “Veses.”

I jerked to a stop so fast I nearly lost my balance, my body flashing cold and then hot—red-hot. Something was wrong with my ears because there was no way I had heard that name. There was no way she would come here.

I would’ve preferred fucking Kyn over her.

“I want to see Nyktos.”

At the sound of the sultry, raspy voice, whatever restraint I had snapped.

The world around me blurred in a haze of gold and silver as I headed down the Rise, moving so fast I ended up shadowstepping to the battlement.

Rhain staggered to the side in surprise. “Fates,” he muttered.

The Primal Goddess of Rites and Prosperity came into view as I stalked to the ledge.

Veses stood below, her head tipped back, and her long, blond ringlets cascading down. The golden sunlight only heightened the beauty of her delicate features.

“You’re not Nyktos,” Veses stated.

“No shit.” I pressed my palms to the ledge, letting the warmth of the stone seep into me as I saw a deep shadow coasting through the scattered clouds above the road. It struck me then that Veses couldn’t sense that Ash wasn’t at the palace. My mind raced over the different times Ash had sensed another Primal’s arrival. He knew the moment they entered the Shadowlands. Either that meant Ash was more powerful than Veses, even though she was significantly older, or my presence somehow blocked that. There was no time to allow for my intuition to kick in as I stared down at the Primal goddess. “You must be out of your mind to come here, Veses.”

Her full lips, painted to match her crimson gown, thinned.

“What?” I challenged. “No bitchy retort?”

“Sera,” Rhain warned under his breath. Then he spoke louder to Veses. “What do you want?”

“I already told you.” Her chin lifted a notch, and my muscles tensed. “I am here for Nyktos.”

Hearing her say that twice? When all I saw was her in Ash’s lap, feeding from him? Using him? Fury seized control. I shifted my weight forward and drew my legs up. Rhain cursed, and I felt his fingers graze my arm, but I was so very fast now.

I launched myself off the battlement of the Rise. Cool air reached me, catching the sleeves of my blouse in a rush. There were only a few heartbeats of weightlessness as the hard ground raced up to greet me.

Instinct took over. My body relaxed, even as my knees bent. I landed with my feet shoulder-width apart, sinking into a crouch as the jarring impact traveled up my spine. Air punched out of my lungs. Dull pain flared in my hips but quickly faded. My gaze locked with Veses’ as I straightened.

Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second, then her expression smoothed out into bland indifference. “Impressive,” she purred.

I smirked. “I know.”

A large shadow broke free of the rapidly gathering clouds, its widespread wings casting a foreboding silhouette over the road leading to the Rise.

Several guards scattered as the onyx-hued draken landed beside me, Ehthawn’s sword-sharp talons digging into the newly grown grass beside the road. His long, sinuous tail coiled, whipping across dirt and stone as he stretched his thick neck past me. His horned head was only a few feet from Veses as he let out a body-shaking roar, exposing large, bone-crunching teeth. Sparks of silver fire danced in the space between him and the Primal goddess.

Her chest rose sharply, straining the thin material of her gown as the glow of eather pulsed behind her pupils.

“You’re not welcome here,” I told her.

Her gaze lowered, tracking over the vest and pants I wore. One side of her lip curled in distaste. “Nyktos has welcomed me here many, many times in the past.”

I took a step forward, smiling as she retreated. “The keywords there are in the past.”

She huffed. “That could change, especially when Nyktos grows tired—”

“That won’t happen,” I cut her off. “I know that seems foreign to you since you have no idea what it feels like to have someone love you.”

Her lips thinned, and the eather pulsed brightly, proving I’d struck a nerve with my admittedly nasty barb.

But fuck her.

For real.

“You know what I know?” Veses’ expression smoothed out.

“Can’t wait to hear it.”

She smiled. “I know how fickle the heart is.”

“That should tell you something, shouldn’t it? That a fickle heart is what you know?” I sighed. “Gods, I do feel sorry for you, Veses.”

She flinched as if I’d slapped her. “You’re a fool if you do. There is no reason—”

“There are several reasons to feel empathy for you, Veses.” I eyed the Primal goddess, remembering our conversation after I’d intervened on her behalf in Dalos. “And you know each one of them.”

Some of the color drained from her face.

“But let me make one thing clear. Even though I feel sorry for you, I still want to kill you, and you know exactly why.”

The skin above her eyebrow twitched as her eyes rose to mine.

“And you also know I’m fully capable of doing so,” I tacked on as the gates opened behind me. “I’m the Queen, Veses. No one would stop me, yet you came here to speak to my husband. So, who is the fool?”

She stiffened. “You are no Queen.”

“I’m the true Primal of Life.” The essence rippled through me as Ehthawn reared his head back. Silver embers fell to the stone. “Look around you. How can you deny that?”

Her gaze darted left and right, passing over the land now ripe with life. “You redecorated. How lovely. It means nothing.”

“It means everything,” I said. “Your failure to accept that, just like your failure to realize that Kolis is a piece of shit who, just like Nyktos, doesn’t want you, doesn’t change the reality.”

Her pretty face twisted into a sneer. “Then why don’t you kill me, Seraphena?”

“I’m trying to be a better person.” My hands curled into fists.

“Better than who?” Her finely arched brows rose. “Nyktos? I saw what he did to Kyn.”

“How—? You know, I don’t even care.”

“He needed blood,” she answered anyway. “After what was done to him.”

“You fed him after what he did to you?”

She shot forward as quick as a pit viper. “I told you before, I like—” Her hair blew away from her face as she skidded back several feet. “Bitch.”

“I remember what you said. You liked it.” I lowered my hand and stared at her. I would never understand her. Ever. “And to answer your question? No, I’m not better than Nyktos. He held back.”

Her hair fell back over her shoulders in perfect ringlets. Another reason to hate her. “You think you’re better than me,” she spat.

“I don’t have to try to be better than you.”

“Cute.” Her nostrils flared. “Especially when you have no idea.”

“About what? You? I know everything I need to know.”

“You don’t know shit, Consort.”

Rhain shot forward. “She is no Consort.” His voice vibrated with anger. “She is the Queen.”

Veses laughed, the sound like wind chimes. “I recognize no such title or crown.”

Rhain stiffened. “That would be considered—”

“It’s okay.” Lifting a hand, I stopped Rhain. “At the end of the day, her acknowledgment means nothing to me.” I lowered my arm, refocusing on Veses.

“Is that so?” Her head moved in a serpentine manner. “When you call yourself Queen and refuse to acknowledge the King?”

My eyes narrowed. Clearly, someone had been talking to Kolis or Callum. “Because I am Queen, and Kolis is no King.” Violent energy ramped up. Clouds gathered above us, thickening and dimming the sunlight. “Are you here on his behalf, acting as his little lapdog? Eager to please him despite his abuse?”

Her cheeks flushed pink as the sound of footsteps closed in behind me. “No, I’m not here on his behalf. But speaking of the King,” she said, “I’m sure he would reward me greatly if I brought you back to him as a gift.”

The air charged around me. “I would love to see you try.”

Her gaze flicked behind me, and then her voice lowered. I could feel her…essence and the anger feeding it. “After Kolis is done with you,” she said, “Kyn has big plans for you.”

In an instant, all I could see was silver-laced gold.

“Fucking Fates,” Bele hissed from behind me. “Do you want to die?”

“I’m not talking to you,” Veses snapped.

“Exactly,” replied Bele.

Veses rolled her eyes before refocusing on me. “I was right, you know. About you. I knew you weren’t her.” Her lips spread into a cruel smile. “Let’s not forget what Kolis promised if you turned out not to be Sotoria.”