Текст книги "Born of Blood and Ash"

Автор книги: Jennifer L. Armentrout

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Текущая страница: 47 (всего у книги 63 страниц)

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Releasing my death grip on the porcelain sides of the toilet, I rocked back.

By some miracle, I’d made it—barely—to the bathing chamber before what felt like everything I’d eaten at breakfast made a reappearance.

Thankfully, Attes and Ash were at the Black Bay, speaking with Lailah. Ash hadn’t wanted to leave my side since…well, since everything. But as soon as we’d finished speaking with Attes, my stomach had started churning. I was supposed to be downstairs with Rhain, but right now, my thoughts were on whatever the hell was going on with my body.

I’d felt fine one moment and not the very next second. Was it a lingering consequence of my fight with Kolis? Or did it have more to do with all the mental and emotional stuff? The grief? Like what I’d finally shared with Ash and the promise I’d made him make? Trauma did weird things to the body. Or was it seeing the raw emotion Attes struggled to control when speaking of both Sotoria and his brother?

Honestly, I didn’t think it was any of those things. Or even my anxiety. I had been nauseous off and on since I Ascended, but I was past the point where I should be feeling any lasting effects.

Come to think of it, I had been nauseous while in Dalos. Granted, there was a realm of reasons to explain that, but…

Muscles in my sides aching and my throat stinging, I rose and went to the vanity. I rinsed my mouth and splashed cool water on my face. My temples throbbed, likely from the retching. It had been quite…vigorous. I winced, really regretting the extra helping of spiced sausage. Another wave of nausea swelled. Squeezing my eyes shut, I gripped the edges of the vanity. Skin clammy and stomach in knots, I focused on breathing through my nose until the sensation passed. I still didn’t move for several minutes, half-afraid I would find myself on my knees once again. Though I wasn’t sure what was left inside me at this point.

I pried my fingers from the vanity and stepped back gingerly. My reflection stared back at me. The bruises on my neck were faint, a gross bluish-green shade, but they were still there.

Shouldn’t they have completely healed by now? The answer was yes, and I knew I wasn’t the only one thinking that. I’d caught Ash staring at my throat several times this morning, his jaw clenched and ticking.

Pressing a palm to my unsettled stomach, I shuffled into the bedchamber and made a beeline for the bed. I lay down on my back and closed my eyes. Hopefully, whatever this was would pass in a few minutes. We had things to do today.

A war to start and end.

And our first move was summoning the Primals.

I swallowed, grateful the sour bitterness was gone and the pounding in my temples had begun to ease.

Gods, I felt like a mess.

A gross, tired mess.

Why was I still so damn tired? I had fallen back to sleep, and we’d slept in. Despite all that had led up to it, it had been a deep, restful sleep…

The corners of my lips turned down. The fatigue wasn’t anything new. Before the attack on Lasania, I had been really tired in the evenings, and I’d slept deep and long. Even with the nightmares, that was something new for me. In the past, I’d rarely reach a level of sleep deep enough to dream. And if I did, I didn’t remember them.

That sensation came again. Like I was forgetting something. But this time, I didn’t. It had to do with dreams. Or a dream. Like the one I’d had while in stasis. The one where I’d been in my lake, and there had been a large feline on the bank, her coat the color of moonlight. She had been me. My nota. And she hadn’t been alone, had she? She hadn’t. In the shadows of the Dark Elms, there had been movement.

Two smaller…cubs.

I jerked upright so fast my stomach cramped. I started to stand, but the connection between my brain and limbs appeared to be severed as my thoughts raced, landing on one question.

When had I menstruated last?

I started to think back, week after week, before losing the ability to count joined my inability to move. All I knew was that it had been weeks. Like a lot of weeks. Enough that more than a month had passed. Enough for the on-again-off-again nausea to make sense—

Oh, gods.

“No,” I stated, my voice hoarse but loud. “I’m freaking out for no reason.”

And I was, because what I was thinking couldn’t be possible. For the very shaky timeline to add up—for me to even feel some of the telltale signs of a…pregnancy—it would mean that I conceived weeks ago. A month. Maybe even two. Perhaps even the first time Ash and I had sex. But that didn’t make sense. A child could not be born of a Primal and a mortal—

But had I ever really been mortal?

“Oh, fuck,” I whispered.

That was a damn good question because when exactly had those embers of life truly become a part of me, changing what I was on such a fundamental level that they couldn’t be removed? The night I’d recklessly bitten Ash’s thumb and tasted that tiny drop of blood? The very same night we’d first had sex? My heart started pounding. If that one drop of blood had irrevocably changed the biology of my body, making me a little bit more Primal than mortal, could that also mean that a child could be created?

Wait.

I’d seen more than one.

I’d seen two.

Twins.

I thought of the prophecy. A first daughter… And a second daughter. But that didn’t sound like twins—

“But I saw cubs,” I said out loud. “Cute, little, fluffy cave cats. I didn’t see two toddlers frolicking in the fucking weeds. I’m not…”

My throat tightened, and my legs suddenly worked again. Shooting to my feet, I raced into the bathing chamber. Not to vomit. My stomach was settled. Mostly. I went to the mirror and yanked up the bottom of my tunic. I held the royal blue material beneath my breasts and stared at my lower abdomen. My head cocked to the side.

It looked the same. Soft. Concave at the naval and then slightly rounded. I turned sideways, seeing nothing—

“What am I doing?” I asked, a shrill giggle parting my lips. Would I even see a difference in my body at this point?

I didn’t know a whole lot about pregnancy, but I’d been around enough pregnant maids at Wayfair. The answer was no. I wouldn’t. My fingers tightened around the soft material. But could I really be far enough along that I would…what had Odetta called it when we’d happened upon the young, rosy-cheeked Emmeline, one of the chambermaids in the hall, clasping a bucket as she heaved?

“Pay her no mind,” Odetta had warbled, urging me along when I stopped. “She’s just having a bit of the morning qualms.”

I hadn’t any idea what that meant. I couldn’t have been more than ten or so at the time. Curious child that I was, I’d asked. Odetta had said that she was with child, and as sure as the sun rose each morning in Lasania, roughly seven or so months later, she had given birth.

Emmeline hadn’t looked pregnant, but she had also been of a willowy frame. However, there had been others with body types similar to mine who hadn’t appeared as if they were with child for many months. So, that meant nothing.

Which wasn’t exactly a relief because, in this situation, nothing could mean everything.

I couldn’t be pregnant. Not after everything I’d gone through in Dalos. Not after being struck with eather, and the Fates only knew how many arrows. Not after the fight with Kolis. He’d broken bones. He’d tossed me around like I was that doll Jadis played with.

Not after what I’d done.

I stared down at my stomach, remembering how nearly every part of my body had been bruised…except for my lower abdomen, almost as if that part of me had been shielded. That sounded ridiculous.

“I can’t be.” I jerked my head to my reflection.

I didn’t really see myself. I saw those cubs. I saw them as clearly as I had during stasis, except they changed in my mind now, becoming two mahogany-haired little boys with golden-bronze skin, one silver-eyed and the other…with eyes of silvery-gold—

What in the fuck?

I sucked in a shallow breath that went nowhere. Why in all the realms was I seeing little boys? It was official. I was losing my mind. Either way, I needed to know if I was…if I was pregnant, and I needed to know now. Right this fucking second. Or I would definitely go insane, and Ash would have to put me into stasis. But how could I find out? In Lasania, there were people, usually older women in Croft’s Cross, to whom many went. Even the nobility. But I wasn’t exactly sure how they could tell anyone anything. Then again, many went there for the teas that ensured there wouldn’t be a fruitful union, too. Regardless, there was no way I was going to shadowstep my ass into Lasania.

I didn’t think I could ever return there.

My mind raced. Those women people sought, wasn’t it said they worshipped at Temples of the Primal Goddess of Love, Beauty, and Fertility? There was no way I would ask Maia, but could Aios somehow—?

“Sera?”

I was so caught up in my panic, I didn’t feel Ash’s approach. I squeaked, dropping my tunic and whirling toward the entrance.

A second later, he filled the doorway. His dark, reddish-brown hair—his mahogany-hued hair—was swept back in a knot at the nape of his neck. Several strands were loose and tousled, though.

“Are you all right?” he asked, concern filling his voice. “I felt your…panic.”

“Uh…”

His gaze swept over me as if he were checking for injuries. The only one he’d find was to my brain. “It was so thick it nearly choked me,” he continued.

I could only stare at him.

He walked in, eyeing the tub and then the space around us. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” Clasping my hands together, I turned as he brushed past me, checking behind the short wall where the privy was. “No one is in here.”

He faced me. “Then what caused you to feel this?”

“Why is your hair so messy?” I asked instead, willing my heart to slow.

“I was on the Rise near the Black Bay.” He paused. “As you know.”

I did know that.

Godsdamnit.

His eyes narrowed. “What’s going on, Sera?”

A laugh crawled its way up my throat. One I knew would sound crazed if I allowed it any sort of freedom. I clamped my mouth shut.

“I’m starting to become worried.” Ash crossed the distance between us, cupping my cheek. His forehead creased. “Why is your face damp and cold?”

“I just washed it.” I forced my voice to be light, knowing I needed to calm down. There was no way I was telling him what I was thinking, causing him to—oh, gods, how would he even react? He’d likely be as panicked as me.

Maybe he’d vomit, too. I would if I were him.

“Liessa?” His thumb swept across my cheek. “I hoped we were beyond this.”

“We are.”

“Then talk to me.”

Fuck. Shit. Damn.

None of that was helping. “I don’t know why you felt that,” I blurted out, thoughts racing. “I might have had a nightmare.”

His brows shot up. “A nightmare?”

I nodded. I didn’t want to lie, not after finally opening my dumb mouth and talking, but I also didn’t want to say anything until I knew. And especially not right before I summoned the freaking Primals to basically tell them to join us or die.

What in the fuck kind of bad timing was this?

“Do you often have them while awake?” Ash asked.

“Not normally.” Realizing that had been the stupidest excuse, I quickly added, “But I dozed off pretty quickly after you and Attes left. And before you ask, no, I don’t know what I was dreaming about, but I do have a distinctive feeling I was having a nightmare.”

His brow furrowed. A moment passed, and then another.

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “Are you okay?”

“I was,” he stated, lowering his hand.

I started to ask what he meant, but then it occurred to me that he likely believed I’d had a nightmare about Kolis and that I was keeping it from him. Again.

Shit. Damn. Fuuuck.

“It wasn’t that,” I assured him. “I wasn’t having a nightmare about Kolis.” My hands curled at my sides. “I swear, Ash. I’m fine, and I’m sorry I worried you.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” He exhaled heavily. Some of the tension eased from his jaw.

“And you don’t have to worry.” I turned, making my way from the bathing chamber. “Did you speak to Lailah?”

He followed me. “Yes. She is a little shocked but on board.”

“Good.” I smoothed my hands down my thighs. I needed to pull it together. Even though it didn’t feel like it at the moment, what we needed to discuss with the others was far more important. “Is it almost time?”

Ash eyed me closely and then nodded. “I need to change my shirt.”

I glanced down at myself and figured I’d do the same. It took Ash two seconds to pull a dark gray tunic from a hanger. My gaze fell on the clothing hanging there, and for some reason, I reached for a black gown with silver ivy stitched along the waist and sides. I stared at it for a moment and then tugged it free. I didn’t even know why. I’d blame the shocking possible revelation. Or maybe it was because, deep down, I didn’t hate gowns.

I just hated being told to wear one.

“Can you help me?” I asked Ash.

He’d already donned the tunic, ready in less than a minute. It took me a little longer. Not because I had to undress and then shimmy my ass into the brocade gown—thank the gods it wasn’t skintight where I had to fight my possibly growing sto—

Nope.

Not thinking about that.

Nope. Nope. Nope.

Ash’s calloused fingers lingered on the skin of my back as he clasped the row of hooks, sending tight shivers cascading down my spine. That was why it took longer. That and his insistence on being the one to secure the bone dagger beneath the skirt. His hands really lingered on the clasp of the thigh sheath he had replaced for me, causing my skin to flush and heat to pool low in my core.

Ash looked up at me through thick lashes as he fixed the gown. Then, he rose. “You look so beautiful.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. He ran a finger over the silver ivy encircling the waist of the gown that climbed the valley between my breasts.

“I really need to thank Erlina for her expert hand,” he murmured, tracing the stitching that spread across the top of the bodice.

My skin tingled through the gown, and I looked up at him. “If you keep doing that, we will have to delay summoning the Primals.”

A wolfish grin appeared as he ducked his head and kissed me so deeply that if I’d feared at all that his passion for me was diminished by everything that had happened and what I had shared with him, I had no doubts now.

But those doubts were gone anyway.

“Later,” he promised, taking my hand.

We walked to the main floor, and I suspected that Ash had chosen to go this way to give me time instead of shadowstepping, just as he had before my public speech.

And I used every second of that to file the possibility of me being pregnant in the farthest recesses of my mind, tucking it in along with the thoughts of what I had done to the mortal realm. I had to do that so I could do this. If not, there was a good chance I would start running through the halls screaming.

Several guards lined the foyer—a new sight. They bowed their heads as we passed.

“Rhain is waiting for us in the crown room. He thinks you should definitely wear it now,” Ash said, and I glanced at that damn empty pedestal. “Once you’re ready, we’ll summon the Primals.”

I nodded, tightening my grip on his hand. There were guards everywhere I looked, even in the narrow hall that led to the chamber connected to the war room.

Rhain stood inside, between the empty pedestal that should’ve held Ash’s crown and mine. When he saw me, his brows nearly climbed into his hair.

“You didn’t have to change,” he said, drawing a curious look from Ash.

“I know,” I said. “I wanted to.”

He swallowed, glancing at Ash. “You both look like the King and Queen you are.”

Ash’s hand slipped free of mine as he went to the crown and lifted it, the suns and diamonds glinting in the sunlight. He carefully placed it on my head and smiled as he lowered his hands.

I reached up, touching one of the spires. “I will never get over the fact that it doesn’t weigh as much as it looks.”

“Heavy is the head that wears the wrong crown,” Ash said, smoothing a curl under the headpiece. “You now look even more beautiful.”

“The most beautiful Queen who has ever lived,” Kars said, entering the room with Saion and Rhahar.

Ash’s gaze slid to the godling, and a low rumble of warning radiated from him.

I smacked his chest, and Kars fought a grin. “Thank you,” I said, taking a deep breath and refusing to allow my thoughts to wander.

The door to the war room opened, revealing Nektas.

Ash took my hand, leading us to the interior door where the draken waited. As the others followed, my gaze swept over the numerous weapons lining the walls of the war room and the wooden table with far too many nicks and grooves in it to count as we entered.

Usually, I would love this space and all its stabby things, but this was the place where Ash had first learned of my betrayal. It was in the past and no longer mattered, but I still hated the room.

I looked over my shoulder at Nektas as we passed the oval table. “You’re staying in this form?” I’d expected him to shift.

“I’m scarier in this form,” he said.

Now that he’d mentioned it, he really was.

“Remember how to summon the Primals?” Ash asked, and I nodded. “Attes is here. You will not need to think of him.”

“I know.” Closing my eyes, I cleared my racing thoughts and first focused on Keella. Eather swelled inside. The sensation was strange, almost like a cord had formed and stretched across the realm. I could almost see it in my mind, and it reminded me of when Kolis had come out of stasis. I knew the moment I reached the Primal goddess, and as Ash had instructed before, I projected my summons to the throne room.

A moment later, I felt the throb of a Primal.

“That’s my Queen,” Ash murmured, his thumb stroking my side as I repeated it for Maia and then Penellaphe.

I felt them arrive and focused on Phanos. The appearance of another Primal throbbed through me. My breath caught a little, but I wasn’t done.

I took another deep breath and closed my eyes once more. I felt the moment my compulsion reached the two Primals.

I compelled Veses and Kyn to appear before me.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

The arrival of the remaining two Primals throbbed in the center of my chest, and I had to smirk, imagining their fury.

We stopped as we neared the final doorway—the one leading to the dais in the throne room. Doubts began creeping in. I had no idea where Maia and Phanos would stand. What if I said the wrong thing? What if I wasn’t convincing? That was definitely possible. What if I walked right out there, took one look at Veses, and throat-punched her? Also, very likely. Or Kyn decided to breathe, and Ash would be forced to put me into stasis? Gods, that wasn’t completely likely, but it wasn’t impossible. And should we stand or sit? If I started pacing, would I walk right off the dais—?

Ash’s fresh, citrusy scent enveloped me for a moment before his lips brushed my forehead, right below the crown. “You’ve got this.”

Did I?

“You do,” Ash whispered.

Had I asked that question out loud? My hands trembled slightly as my grip tightened on Ash’s hand. Weight began settling on my chest, causing my shoulders and neck to tense.

I took a deep breath and held it for five seconds. Ash’s gaze caught mine. He gave me a short, barely noticeable nod.

I reflexively sought that veil of nothingness where I could retreat into myself and become whatever was needed of me.

You’ve got this.

That was what he’d said to me before we met with the gods after I’d awakened, too. And while I hadn’t been convinced, Ash had been sure. He had faith in me. He didn’t believe my anxiety made me incapable. He didn’t believe that me being born mortal made me weak. None of the gods here thought that.

I was strong.

My time in Dalos had proven that, and it had nothing to do with the essence pumping hotly through my veins. I didn’t need to don the veil of nothingness to find strength. I just had to be myself. Though not the burn-it-all-down version. Maybe the fifty percent burn-it-all-down version—okay, more like seventy percent. But also who I was becoming.

“Ready?” Ash asked.

I nodded.

Ash held my gaze for a moment longer, and then Nektas opened the throne room door. Fresh, late-afternoon air washed over us as we walked across the dais, his hand remaining wrapped firmly around mine.

We passed the hauntingly beautiful thrones carved from blocks of shadowstone, their backs stretching into wings that touched at the tips. The only sound was our footsteps as Nektas veered to the right, and we reached the edge of the dais.

Thousands of candles jutted from the smooth, black walls, and hundreds more hovered above the main floor, scattered throughout and casting a soft fiery glow over the massive, circular chamber open to the shining stars. Guards lined the walls, two by two, standing together every four feet, dressed in black, their hands resting on the pommels of their swords. The main doors were closed, but I knew a small army’s worth of guards was stationed outside the doors and all along the Rise.

Ash squeezed my hand, and I realized I was holding my breath for far longer than five seconds. Forcing my lungs to work, I looked past the empty shadowstone benches, my gaze momentarily snagging on Penellaphe. She…she looked well, dressed in a peach-hued tunic and pants. The bronze crown of olive branches and serpents looked better on her than on Embris. Though I could’ve done without the serpents. I started to look away, but a dark figure against the wall snagged my attention. Thierran. My lips twitched. He was leaning against the wall with one boot propped against the shadowstone. He stared straight ahead at no one in particular. It amused me that he had weaseled his way in. Then I saw who stood near him, and relief surged through me once more. I saw a familiar brown-haired god beside Attes: Elias. The guard I’d met in Dalos gave a short, quick nod. As Rhain moved to stand at the foot of the dais, my eyes locked with hers. I saw no one else.

Veses was toward the back, and it registered that she stood next to Kyn. Her blond hair fell in ringlets to her impossibly narrow waist, and the jade tree crown made from a stone matching the deep red of her gown sat upon her head. Her dress covered her from the neck down, yet every part of her body was still somehow revealed in the skintight crimson silk, from her ample breasts to the indent of her navel.

Her face had a strange pinch to it when she stared up at me, almost as if she couldn’t believe either of us was standing there. Maybe it was the crown upon my head. Perhaps it was the fact that I dared.

Seconds ticked by with us staring at each other. I had no idea if she was thinking about the last time we’d seen one another in Dalos. Her shame? My pain? Was she reliving the moment Kolis had punished her by giving her to Kyn? Or how she’d ordered me not to intervene on her behalf? Saying that what Kolis had done was nothing, even though we both knew that wasn’t true. Was she smug in the knowledge that she had tried to warn Nyktos, but I hadn’t listened? Or did that knowledge make her uncomfortable?

I was thinking all those things, and as the seconds ticked by, I couldn’t help but think about how Veses deserved all kinds of unimaginable pain for what she had done to Ash.

But my thoughts hadn’t changed when it came to what Kolis had done to her. She didn’t deserve that.

No one did.

I didn’t have to like the bitch to acknowledge that.

A muscle twitched just above Veses’ delicate brow, and then she looked away, her lip curling into a smirk. But I knew.

I knew she was unsettled by the sight of me. It made her feel something.

I looked at the Primal beside her. For some reason, the bastard was shirtless and barefoot. He, too, appeared stuck between shock and anger, his narrowed gaze darting between me and his brother, the reddish-black crown dull in the weakening sunlight pouring in from above.

As I stared at Kyn, a fierce storm of rage-fueled eather surged through me, threatening to consume every ounce of restraint I possessed. The air charged with it as I stared at the Primal who had played a role in my family’s demise and the destruction of my home.

Everyone in the room felt the power pounding through me. I held Kyn’s gaze, and Ash’s hand tightened around mine.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

I counted between breaths as every fiber of my being screamed for vengeance. Yet I gritted my teeth and forced myself to hold back, knowing that succumbing to the rage would not only end with the Fates doing something messed up in return for violating the rules of balance but would also end with me causing more violence and suffering.

Reeling in my self-control, I forced my gaze from Kyn to the Primal of Rebirth. Keella wore a caped, golden gown, and upon her head sat the crown of pale-blue quartz with many limbs and leaves. I saw Bele then, but she, too, had changed her attire. Gone was her customary black. Now, she wore white pants and a fitted white tunic. A crown of ruby antlers sat upon her head. I thought it looked far better on her than on Hanan.

Another reddish-black helm caught my attention. My gaze locked with Attes’s. He winked. Beside me, Ash sighed. To his left stood the most beautiful Primal goddess I’d ever seen.

A crown of pearls, roses, and scalloped shells sat upon Maia’s warm blond hair that fell in waves to her lush hips. The Primal Goddess of Love, Beauty, and Fertility wore a pale-pink gown similar to Keella’s. She smiled as my gaze swept over her, and I felt relief at the response.

But it was the one who stood at the back of those before the dais, separate from everyone else, arms folded over his chest, that gave me hope. No crown sat upon the Primal God of the Sky, Sea, Earth, and Wind’s burnt-umber head, but he didn’t look shocked or angry. He looked…curious.

It really wasn’t only about the sizes of Maia’s or Phanos’s armies anymore, even though we wanted as many soldiers on our side as against us. Though like Attes had said, we were going for more precision, targeted battles that didn’t require grand landscapes. It was more about the fact that I didn’t want to have to send them to Arcadia or worse.

But what was also huge was the silence in the throne room.

No one spoke.

Not even Kyn.

My mouth dried, and my gaze flickered over those before me. Anxiety threatened to rise like the three-headed serpent I’d faced in the cavern, poised to strike and deliver venomous self-doubt.

Tremors coursed through my hands, and I started to look at Ash but caught myself.

I was strong.

I’d survived being considered a failure to my family and a kingdom that never knew my name. I’d survived my mother’s biting disappointment and Tavius’s twisted cruelty. I’d survived the gods who had come to take me, and made it through Veses’ attack. I’d survived an Ascension that should’ve killed me. I’d survived Kolis.

Most importantly, I’d survived myself.

I was strong.

I was worthy.

I could do this.

And I needed no one, not even Ash, to speak for me.

I had faith in myself.

Just as I’d had faith in Ezra when I told her to take the throne—

Something clicked into place in my head that had nothing to do with the ancient knowledge I’d gained during my Ascension. There had been a reason I’d asked that of Ezra. It was because she had earned it.

And I still had a chance to do that here before it became an ultimatum.

My heart slowed, and my hands ceased trembling. Tension eased from my muscles and chest. The warm hum of eather replaced it as I stepped forward. Ash’s hand firmed around mine for a heartbeat and then slipped away. I stopped at the edge of the dais.

Below me, Rhain turned to the others. His chest rose with a deep breath. “Bow,” he said, his voice booming. “Bow before—”

“I will not bow to that,” Kyn spat, and my head jerked to him. “A common—”

“Finish that sentence,” I said, my vision flashing between gold and silver, “and you will find yourself running from that common whore once again.”

I heard a low, rough-sounding laugh from the direction of where Thierran stood in the alcove as Kyn glared at me. I arched a brow. His nostrils flared, but he kept his mouth shut, at least for now.

“Anyway,” Rhain muttered, clearing his throat, “bow for the One who is born of—”

“No,” I stopped him. His head swung toward me. I could feel Ash’s stare boring into my back. My heart was thudding again, but this time, it was different. Manageable. “I do not expect any of you to bow before me.”

Rhain looked like he wanted to run headfirst into a shadowstone wall. The others before me looked confused or, in Phanos’s case, like he was thinking of nothing. However, I’d gotten Thierran’s undivided attention.

“Yet,” I added, catching the small smirk that brought out one dimple on Attes’s cheek. “I don’t want your loyalty simply because of the essence coursing through my veins or because of the crown upon my head. Come to think of it,” I said, reaching for the crown. I lifted it, snagging a few hairs. The gold gleamed, and I glanced back at Ash. He watched me, curious but not concerned. His eyes were a molten silver, heated and bright. I looked back at those below. “I should not even be wearing this crown.”

Rhain closed his eyes, and Bele exchanged nervous looks with Saion and Rhahar.

Veses was still smirking.

Half-tempted to toss the crown at her face, I resisted the urge and willed it…well, I willed it wherever the crown was supposed to go when I didn’t want it. As it vanished from my hand, I hoped I hadn’t sent it to the Abyss.

“I’m sure some of you were thinking that. Or have. I know I have,” I admitted.

A throaty voice dug into every last nerve of mine. “Well,” Veses drawled, “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

My head snapped to her, but I didn’t get a chance to respond.

“If you interrupt my wife again,” Ash said, his voice a frigid warning that sent the flames above the candles flickering, “You will find yourself without the ability to do so.”

Veses’ mouth snapped shut. I didn’t think it was only anger that stained her cheeks. Ash’s threat had hurt her feelings, which was entirely fucked up.

But Veses was a mess.

I smiled at her. “I was saying that I have thought I shouldn’t be wearing the crown. Not because I was born mortal or because there has never been a Queen of the Gods.”