The War of Two Queens (Blood And Ash Series Book 4)

We crested the last of the Niel Valley just as the sun began to set, turning the sky a deep, violet-blue. Kieran rode to Casteel’s right, and Delano and the wolven traveled alongside me as the northern portion of the Rise surrounding Carsodonia came into view. The area of the Bone Temple and Pensdurth sat at a much higher elevation than Carsodonia, much like Masadonia, and the air was a little cooler and less humid. With my hands steady on Phobas’s reins, I looked at Sage.

The wolven cut away from the pack, followed by General Sven’s and Murin’s divisions, heading for the front gates of Carsodonia as planned. The draken remained in the heavily forested area at our backs, since we weren’t sure if the Blood Crown had learned how many draken had survived the attack. In case they hadn’t, we wanted that detail to remain unknown. With the draken’s speed in the air, it would only take minutes for them to reach us once needed.

I glanced behind me to where Hisa and several Crown Guards rode beside the wagon. I’d kept checking on the wagon, almost as if I expected the casket containing Malec to disappear somehow.

Which was as silly as most of the thoughts I’d had in the middle of the night.

Our hearts were calm as we continued forward, carefully watched by the guards along the Rise. Their bows were readied, but none had fired upon us as we rode on, our Atlantian banners rippling in the faintly sea-salted breeze. The silence was unnerving, shattered by the horns blaring from the corners of the Rise. The same ones that blew when they spotted the mist. I wondered if the people were seeking shelter in their homes, hiding this time from who they’d been led to believe was the Harbinger of Death and Destruction instead of the Craven.

My gaze lifted to the archers on the Rise, and my senses swept out. Bitter fear gathered in my throat, stroking the restlessly stirring eather. “They’re afraid.”

“As they should be,” Casteel commented, and I dragged my attention from them, focusing on my King. He also eyed them. “Atlantian armies have never traveled this far west.”

“Not even in the War of Two Kings,” Kieran added. “Most of those guards up there have probably never even seen an Atlantian or a wolven—or were aware that they had.”

“They’ll probably be shocked that we look like them,” Emil said from behind us, where he rode with Naill and Malik. “And not like the Craven.”

“All that is likely true,” I said. “And it means that when this is over, after we’ve ended the Blood Crown, we need to prove to the people of Carsodonia and the rest of Solis that we are not the monsters they have been warned about. It won’t be as easy as it was in Padonia or any of the cities farther east,” I reasoned, though I wouldn’t say any but Padonia had been particularly easy.

“We will.” Casteel’s gaze found mine. “It will take time, but time is what we will have on our side.”

I nodded. We had time, but so did all the Ascended who’d fled their cities, either abandoning them or leaving nothing but death behind. They were behind those walls now. They too would need to be dealt with.

But it was what waited before us that needed all of our attention now.

The Bone Temple lined the horizon, a sprawling structure built upon thousands of heavy blocks of stone which held the bodies of the entombed Priests and Priestesses. The Temple was as tall as the Rise itself, with marble and limestone pillars that stretched even higher, and steep steps that climbed the north and south sides. Vines smothered the ones to the east and west and had even begun to climb the pillars.

“Well,” Naill drawled as the grounds beyond the Temple came into view. “It looks like the Blood Queen brought a few friends along with her.”

“She most definitely did,” Casteel murmured. “Not unexpected.”

And it wasn’t. There was no way Isbeth would meet us in the open like this without substantial forces. Just as we hadn’t.

In the rising moonlight, the ground looked red beyond the Temple, blocking the northern gates and spreading as far as the eye could see. Soldiers in black and crimson armor stood shield to shield, their faces covered by helmets or gaiters.

“What are we looking at?” Casteel asked as we drew closer.

I let my senses sweep out. A mixture of varying degrees of emotion came back to me. Salty resolve. Vast nothingness. Fear. A shallower emptiness from those shielding their emotions. “Mortals, knights, and Revenants,” I told them.

“How incredibly diverse of the Blood Queen,” Kieran murmured.

My gaze swept to the floor of the Temple. I couldn’t see who was there. Was Millicent with our mother? Would she intervene on her behalf once it became clear what we planned? Or would she aid us?

Casteel gave the signal, and the horses slowed before stopping as we neared the foot of the Temple. He looked over at me, and I took a shallow breath, nodding.

Loosening my grip on the reins, I dismounted as Casteel did the same. The others who would join us at the Temple followed as Casteel went to where the generals waited. “Remember the plan,” he said. “The wolven will alert you when it’s time.”

General Aylard and Sven nodded as Naill and Emil carefully unloaded Malec’s casket from the wagon.

“Be careful,” Sven called to us.

Remembering what I’d heard before, I replied with, “But be brave.”

Hisa caught my eye and grinned as she helped Naill and Emil. I smiled as Casteel caught Malik by the arm. The curve of my lips faded.

“Stay close to me,” Casteel spoke, his voice low as he met his brother’s stare. “Don’t do anything that could jeopardize what we’re doing here or your life.”

Malik’s expression was stoic, but he nodded.

“You could at least smile,” Kieran said to Malik as Casteel let go of his arm. “At least you have a sword this time.”

“Gee, thanks,” Malik muttered as Casteel shot him a look a wise person would’ve shut up upon receiving. “You know, for allowing me to have the bare minimum protection.”

“How about you stop bitching and help us?” Naill grunted. “For a sleeping god, the fucker sure is heavy.”

Cursing under his breath, Malik went to the front of the casket. “Maybe it’s not that he’s heavy. It’s just that you are all weak.”

“Say that again,” Hisa warned, her eyes flashing a sharp amber from above the face guard of her helmet, “and I will kick your ass.”

Malik said nothing as he helped lower the casket to the ground, but his lips twitched as a sugary taste gathered in my mouth.

“What is it with the Da’Neer men and being amused when women threaten them?” I asked.

Kieran snorted, taking my hand and turning me to face him. “It probably has a complicated answer,” he said, carefully taking hold of my crown and lifting it so it didn’t snag in my hair. Neither Casteel nor I would wear our crowns. We would already be targets on the field, and we didn’t need anything making it easier to pinpoint us. “Buried in deeply rooted issues that span many generations.”

“I find that deeply offensive,” Casteel remarked, coming to us as I smiled.

“Sure, you do.” Kieran took my crown, placing it in the box that a Crown Guard held—a much more ornate, wooden, engraved thing with the Atlantian Crest. I supposed people had gotten tired of seeing the crowns in a cigar box. He then turned to Casteel and removed his crown with the same gentleness, placing it beside mine. He looked between us as the guard mounted his horse and rode off to keep the crowns safe. “Are we ready?”

Casteel looked down at me. “My Queen?”

My pulse increased slightly, and a flutter of nervous anticipation bloomed in my chest. The essence thrummed. “Yes.”

“Then it’s time.” Casteel’s mouth brushed mine. His lips tasted of the salty breeze as he took my left hand. His thumb ran over the dazzling, golden swirl. “We will end this tonight, one way or another. And then, I’m going to find that diamond I told you about.” He kissed me again. “But before that, I’m going to get what I want. You. In the armor.”

“Gods,” Kieran half sighed, half laughed.

Casteel’s lips curved into a smile against mine. “It’s not like you aren’t thinking it.”

My eyes went wide as Kieran sounded as if he choked on his breath. What I suddenly felt from him while Casteel chuckled wasn’t embarrassment. It was sharp and heavy, too fleeting for me to latch onto. My eyes narrowed on Kieran as Casteel took my hand. “Are you shielding your emotions?”

“I would never do such a thing,” Kieran replied, his expression one of pure innocence.”

“Uh-huh,” I muttered as Casteel led us around the wagon and toward the Temple.

The moment we began our climb of the steep steps, followed by Delano and the other wolven, whatever Kieran was or wasn’t feeling slipped to the background. What was about to happen was bigger than me—than Casteel and me. Even bigger than Kieran. The future of the kingdoms rested on what happened tonight. There was no way to mentally prepare for this. Not when I’d been in the veil not so long ago and only known as the Maiden. My heart beat as fast as it had when we rode up to the Rise of Oak Ambler and a fine tremor ran through me.

As we neared the top of the steps, and just about when my legs felt as if they would turn to liquid, Casteel halted. He turned to me and squeezed my hand. “Remember what we told you in Evaemon?”

I shook my head, my thoughts racing far too much to even begin to recall what he could possibly be referencing.

His eyes caught mine, the gold glimmering in the starlight. “You have faced Craven and vamprys, men wearing masks of mortal flesh. Stared down Atlantians who’ve wanted to harm you, seized cities, and freed me,” he said, touching my cheek. “You’re more than a Queen. More than a goddess on the verge of becoming a Primal. You’re Penellaphe Da’Neer, and you’re fearless.”

My breath snagged in my chest.

Kieran touched the other side of my cheek, turning my gaze to his. He smiled. “And you run from no one and nothing.”

Emotion clogged my throat, and as it had in Evaemon, their words were as powerful as the eather thrumming in my chest.

They were right.

I was brave.

Strong.

And I wasn’t afraid.

Nodding, I faced forward as Delano brushed my legs, and several of the wolven prowled past us. I lifted my chin and straightened my shoulders, my heart steady as we crested the top of the steps.

Delano stayed at my side as the wolven spread out, their bodies sleek under the moonlight as they wove between the pale stone statues of the kneeling gods lining the pathway to her.

Draped in a tight-fitting, crimson half-coat and gown, the Blood Queen stood before an altar once used to display the bodies of the deceased Priests and Priestesses. The ruby and diamond crown upon her head glittered like the stars blanketing the sky, as did the ruby piercing her nose, and the wide, jeweled belt at her waist, visible beneath the halves of her coat. Her lips were as red as her clothing, and as she stood there, she was equally as beautiful as she was horrifying.

My mother.

My enemy.

She wasn’t alone. Callum stood to her right, as golden as the sun itself. Dozens of Royal Guards and knights flanked her, and a line of Handmaidens stood behind the altar, but it was one who caught my eye.

Millicent was dressed as the other Handmaidens in a sleeveless crimson tunic fitted to her hips. Slits on either side revealed pants of the same color with daggers sheathed to both thighs. The painted markings were back, swirling up and down her arms, and the deep, reddish-black mask painted upon her face obscured what Casteel had seen. Our shared features. The sides of her hair were braided like mine and swept back to fall down her back, the color a flat, dull black.

One look at her, and I knew she wasn’t shielding her emotions. Millicent’s unease was strong and tart, mixing with the heaviness of her concern as her attention drifted over the three of us and beyond, to where I suspected she looked for Malik. I had no idea what was going on between them—how or why she disliked him like Malik claimed and yet obviously worried about him. I didn’t know where her true loyalties lay, but neither of those things mattered.

Only our mother did.

“You brought an army with you, and you’re dressed for battle,” the Blood Queen spoke. “Should I be concerned?”

My gaze locked with hers, and I didn’t allow myself to search for any sort of feeling toward her. “You should always be concerned.”

Isbeth smiled tightly as she stepped forward, her hands clasped at her waist. “I hope you didn’t come all this way just to be clever. Where is Malec?”

“We have him, but you need to lift the curse first,” I said.

“Or what?” Callum answered.

Delano’s head lowered as his lip curled back, and a low growl rumbled from him. I reached for the notam, calming him—soothing the others as they prowled across the Temple floor, their instincts riled by so many vamprys and Revenants.

“Or we set his casket on fire,” Casteel responded coolly. “And then kill you.”

“You keep saying that,” the Revenant replied, “yet here I remain.”

Casteel turned his head to Callum, and his lips curled in a shadow of a smile. “And here I stand.”

“The curse will be lifted once I see that you have Malec with you and he still lives,” Isbeth interjected before Callum could. “I need proof that you have fulfilled your end of the bargain before I complete mine.”

I glanced at Casteel. He gave me a curt nod, and through the notam, I reached out to Rune, who waited with the others. The wolven’s response was swift. “He comes.”

Isbeth’s stare left mine, traveling to the steps as Casteel said, “He remains asleep.”

“Of course,” she responded with a quick glance. My head cut to my left as Millicent quietly moved forward. “He will until given blood.”

I watched Millicent move forward even more, tensing.

“He will sleep deeply until then,” Isbeth continued. “Nothing in either realm could wake him at this point.”

“And yet, you believe that he will wake upon being fed and then give you what you seek?” Casteel queried as I inched forward, partially blocking him and Kieran.

“I know he will,” Isbeth said.

I saw the moment Malik and the others arrived at the top of the Temple steps. Isbeth’s hands unlocked. One fluttered to her chest as they traveled between the kneeling, faceless gods. Millicent’s steps faltered, and her concern rose, pressing down on my shoulders.

They placed the casket before where we stood, and then Malik and the others stepped back. I moved forward, reaching into the pouch at my hip. My fingers slid over the horse as I withdrew the ring. I placed it on top of the flat surface of the casket, beside the bone chains. Isbeth lifted a hand. Several knights moved forward, their dark, soulless eyes the only parts of them visible as they retrieved the casket, carrying it to the altar as Millicent approached me.

Delano eyed her warily as her pale eyes flicked briefly to Malik and then to me. “Where is the blond?” she questioned quietly. “The one called Reaver. Your draken.”

“You worried about where he may be lurking?” Casteel countered as Isbeth turned her back on us.

Millicent didn’t look at him. “No.” Her eyes remained on me, and as close as we were, it was hard not to notice that we were the same height. “But you should be.”

My brows rose while the knights began pulling the bone chains from the casket. “And why is that?”

She looked over her shoulder at the clatter of bones hitting the Temple floor. “Because she didn’t ask about where he is,” she answered, and Kieran’s head snapped in her direction. “One would think she’d be concerned about the one thing that could take out a large portion of those on the Temple grounds.”

I glanced at the altar. Isbeth was sliding the Atlantian diamond back onto her finger—I wasn’t even sure why I’d bothered to return it—as a knight jammed the tip of his sword into the seam of the casket. Wood groaned. It was unlikely that Isbeth was currently aware of where Millicent was at the moment. She was solely focused on the casket, having moved to the other side of the altar. Callum watched, though.

“Nor did she mention the fact that you’re about fifty thousand less than you were when you crossed the Niel Valley,” Millicent went on, her gaze lowered. Another knight worked at the center of the lid, and I heard another cracking, popping sound. “She is fully aware that they are no longer with you, which could only mean that they have been sent somewhere else.”

Focusing on Millicent, a hundred different things rose to the tip of my tongue. There was so much I wanted to know, but all I said was, “I know.”

Millicent’s gaze flew to mine, and I knew she understood what I meant. That I knew who she was.

One side of her lips twitched and rose and then flattened. “Then you should also know that there is something very wrong about all of this.”

Tiny bumps spread out along my arms as the knights freed the top of the casket and lifted the lid. Millicent turned back as they placed it on the floor. The knights all stepped back. Only Isbeth moved forward, and she did so slowly, almost fearfully.

Malik had made his way to Kieran’s side. He didn’t look at Millicent, but I knew he spoke to her when he whispered, “Are you well?”

I didn’t know how Millicent answered. I was completely focused on Isbeth as she clutched the rim of the casket and stared inside. An arrow of raw, pounding agony pierced straight through me, surprising me. The emotion belonged to Isbeth. The Blood Queen shuddered.

What I could see of Malec was…it wasn’t good. Strands of dull, reddish-brown hair lay against sunken cheeks. Too-dry lips were parted, peeled back over fangs as if he had lost consciousness while screaming. He was skeletal, and more weathered flesh than man. A husk of whoever he may have once been. And the sight of him, no matter what his actions might have caused, was a pitiful sight.

“Oh, my love,” Isbeth whispered and then slipped into a hoarsely spoken language I didn’t understand.

“Old Atlantian,” Kieran explained.

I may not understand what she said, but I understood the agony mingled with the sweetness of love. The sorrow. There was no relief. No joy or anticipation. Only the bone-deep, icy anguish that hurt more than any physical pain.

“As you can see, we have held up our end of the deal,” Casteel said, silencing Isbeth. “Lift the curse.”

Isbeth didn’t move or respond for what felt like an eternity. My heart seized. If she didn’t do as she’d promised and the Joining hadn’t usurped the curse…

I reached down, grabbing Kieran’s hand. He was stoic, his emotions shielded, while Casteel was a rapidly building storm of rage.

Then Isbeth nodded.

Callum came forward, driving Millicent back and away. Her reaction to him was unsettling. I’d seen her handle Delano in his mortal form as if he were nothing more than a child. But this Revenant was supposedly old—really old. The essence stirred as he drew close. Through the notam, I nudged Delano back.

“Lift the wounded arm,” Callum requested with a pleasant smile. The Revenant was utterly unfazed by the wolven’s and Elementals’ glares.

I let go of Kieran’s hand, and he did as Callum requested. The Revenant cocked his head to the side. “The mark of the curse?” One wing rose as he looked down at me. The smile spread. “It’s gone.”

“It is,” Casteel answered.

“It shouldn’t be.”

“And?” Casteel’s voice was soft, in the way that was always a warning.

“Nothing. It’s just interesting.” Callum closed his fingers around Kieran’s arm as he withdrew a dagger, one made of some sort of milky-white stone I’d never seen before. “This may sting.”

“You harm him, and you will regret it,” I warned.

“I only need to make a shallow cut as before,” Callum said. “But I suspect there is not much I could do that would seriously harm him.” His hand was quick, making a shallow cut on the same area of Kieran’s forearm as before. “Now is there?”

I didn’t even bother responding as a faint black shadow lifted from the shallow slice. My heart tripped. Did that mean the Joining wouldn’t have overpowered the curse? I didn’t know, and I wasn’t sure if we would ever know. What I did know was that it didn’t matter.

“Gods,” Naill muttered as the inky mist flowed out from Kieran’s blood and rose to where it disappeared into the night.

“There you go.” Callum dropped Kieran’s arm, sheathing the strange dagger as he smiled brightly.

“That’s it?” Casteel asked.

The Revenant nodded.

Kieran’s arm flew out in a flash. I saw a glint of bloodstone, and then the hilt of the dagger was flush with Callum’s chest. “Thank you,” he growled, jerking the dagger up and out. “Fucker.”

Callum staggered back. Blood trickled from his mouth. “Godsdamn it…”

A rough laugh came from Millicent as Callum hit the floor. “Never gets old,” she said, stepping over his body. “He recovers fast, though. Go for his stupid head next time.”

“Advice taken and accepted,” Kieran muttered, glancing at me as I folded my hand over his arm. “I’m fine—” He sighed as the healing warmth hit him. His eyes flicked to Casteel.

“Let her do her thing,” Casteel replied, his focus now on Isbeth. “It makes her feel good.”

Kieran quieted then, and when I lifted my hand, there was no mark. “You do feel fine?” I asked, not trusting the Revenant at all.

He nodded.

“He’s fine,” Millicent snapped. “Unlike the Queen, who appears seconds from climbing into the casket.”

“Would that be a bad thing?” Emil asked.

A choked laugh left me, the sound quickly fading as I saw that Isbeth leaned over Malec’s body.

“He’s my heartmate—a part of me. My heart. My soul. He’s my everything. If Nyktos had granted us the trials, we would be together.”

“And ruling over Atlantia?” Casteel surmised.

“I don’t think so. He was done with that godsforsaken kingdom,” she said. “We would’ve traveled the realm, found a place that we were at peace with. There, we would’ve stayed. Together. With our son. Our children.”

Who knew if what she spoke was true to anyone but her, but it was painful to witness, nonetheless.

Isbeth smoothed a palm over Malec’s cheek, her hand trembling as she bent over him more, her mouth inches from his dry, pale lips. “I love you now as much as I loved you then when our eyes first met in the rose gardens. I will always love you, Malec. Always.”

I shifted under the weight of the raw tide of emotion that Isbeth did nothing to shield. Tears rolled down her cheeks, leaving faint tracks in the pale powder she wore.

“You know that, right?” Her voice had lowered as she reached for the jeweled belt at her waist. “You have to, even now, as you sleep so deeply. You have to know how much I love you.” Isbeth’s fingers trailed down the side of his neck as she pressed a kiss to his still lips.

“That’s really disgusting,” muttered Emil.

It was.

And it was also sad. As terrible and evil to the core as Isbeth was, she still loved deeply and painfully. It would hurt even more when she realized that we had no intention of allowing her to keep him.

“Fuckboy is awake,” Kieran muttered as Callum slowly climbed to his feet. “Heads up.”

Casteel reached between us, folding his hand around mine. He winked at me, and other than proving that he could pull that off without looking ridiculous, it was a sign. It was time. Looking away from the sad scene playing out before us, I narrowed my senses until I could only feel the notam and searched out Sage’s fresh rain imprint—

“And that’s why… That’s why you have to understand,” Isbeth said to Malec’s sleeping form. “You know how much I loved our son. You understand why it must be like this. That it cannot be any other way.”

Concentration broken, my head jerked toward Isbeth at the same moment as Millicent’s. Isbeth jerked her arm up. Casteel pulled me to his side at the first glint of shadowstone. The jeweled belt at her waist had hidden a shadowstone dagger. I tapped into the eather, worried that she would turn that dagger on any number of people standing near—

Isbeth screamed—and, gods, that was the sound of pure anguish. She brought the dagger down—into Malec’s chest. His heart.

My mouth dropped open.

Isbeth had…

She’d stabbed Malec in the heart with shadowstone.

Shadowstone could kill a god. I remembered Reaver saying as much.

What we’d just witnessed didn’t make sense. Not in any realm. But she had…she had killed Malec. Her heartmate.

“What in the actual fuck?” exclaimed Casteel, dropping my hand as Millicent staggered back, her eyes going wide.

Kieran cursed as Isbeth jerked her hands free of the dagger. Her body folded over Malec’s. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she wept. “I’m so sorry.”

My arms fell to my sides. The shock of seeing the glimmering, ruby-encrusted hilt jutting from Malec’s chest rooted me to where I stood. And that astonishment rolled, coming in waves from all who witnessed it—all except one.

The golden, now-bloody Revenant.

Callum smiled.

A nearly overwhelming sense of dread exploded in my chest as Callum slowly turned his head toward me. He clasped his hands together, bowing. “Thank you.”

The essence stirred violently. I reached out, clasping Casteel’s arm.

“Thank you for doing what you were prophesied to do long ago. Thank you for fulfilling your purpose, Harbinger.” Callum’s pale eyes brightened behind the golden mask, and the eather, it thrummed through my veins. “It wasn’t exactly as foretold or how many of us understood, but prophecies…well, the details aren’t always exact, and interpretations do vary.”

“I don’t understand,” Millicent said, her wide-eyed gaze darting between Callum and our mother.

“What is it that you don’t understand?”

“Everything,” she seethed. “Everything about what just happened.”

“You mean what could’ve happened to you if you hadn’t been a failure?” Callum countered, and Malik shot forward, blocked only by Casteel, who was simply faster. “You would’ve bled for him, and he would’ve rewarded you greatly for it.”

Millicent drew back, her skin paling under the mask. Her stare hit mine, and suddenly, I understood. Mouth dry, my gaze fell to Malec. “That was supposed to be me, wasn’t it?”

“You succeeded where she didn’t,” Callum said. “And I’ve been waiting a long time for you. He’s been waiting for the sacrifice. The balance the Arae always insist upon. Waiting for the one born of mortal flesh, on the verge of becoming a great Primal power. You arrived as promised, but…” He extended his arm. “But you weren’t the only one. As long as both shared the blood of the Primal of Life and were loved, it would restore him. She just needed you—someone of his bloodline—to find Malec. We all know that Ires surely wouldn’t have done that. We’d have had to free him. And, well, he’s kind of…pissy, to say the least.”

“What in the hell?” demanded Naill.

Callum cocked his head. “I just didn’t think she’d do that. Not until she asked for him. And even then, I truly didn’t think she would go through with it, to be honest.” He laughed. “I thought it would be a fifty-fifty shot on who she chose. You. Or Malec.”

Heart pounding, I pressed my hand to my chest as clouds appeared over the sea, darkening the night sky. I was on the verge of becoming a Primal, and it struck me, finally, the why now of it all. Why Isbeth had waited until this time to exact her centuries-old plans. She’d had to wait until I entered the Culling so she could… I stared at the altar. So she could kill me. But she had…

But it wasn’t me on that altar.

Malec wasn’t the True King of the Realms as we believed. This really had nothing to do with him or even me. We were just pawns.

Suddenly, I thought about the prophecy. “‘The Bringer of Death and Destruction,’” I murmured, and Casteel’s gaze flew to mine. “Not Death and Destruction, but the bringer of it.” My hand lifted to my mouth. That godsdamn prophecy… “And I did just that.”

“Fuck,” Malik growled.

“This is not the right time,” Casteel said under his breath, “but I just want to point out that I always said you were not death and destruction.”

Kieran shot him a look because it really, really wasn’t the time, and because while Malik’s reluctance to give Malec to Isbeth may not have been rooted in knowledge of what was to come, if we had listened to him…

No. If we had known, we wouldn’t have stopped. We wouldn’t have risked Kieran. Right or wrong, it was as simple as that.

“Then what is this?” Millicent demanded. “Who is the Harbinger?”

“She is the Harbinger.” Callum’s head swung to her. “The warning.” His eyes widened. “What did you think, dear? That she was the one who would destroy the realms?” He glanced at me. “A Primal born of mortal flesh? Her?” His laugh echoed through the valley. “Seriously?”

I stiffened. “At any other time, I would find that kind of rude.”

“No offense meant, Your Highness,” he said with a mockery of a bow. “It’s just that it would take eons for you to become that powerful, and that was if the power didn’t drive you mad first.”

The limp, flat hair flew about Millicent’s face as she shook her head, while Isbeth continued sobbing—as the dread grew and grew. The last part of Callum’s comment was something we’d have to worry about later. “No.”

“Yes.” Callum tipped his head back as he eyed me. “It should’ve been you on the altar. That was the plan. That is what all of this has been about. You.” He pointed to Millicent and then to me. “And you. Yeah, we’ll have to deal with you later.” Callum winked. “But now, it’s time.”

“Time for what, you silly fuck?” Kieran snarled, grasping the hilt of his sword.

The Revenant’s eyes closed. “Time to bow to the one True King of the Realms.”

Casteel stepped toward him. “And who is that supposed to be?”

Pressure settled on my shoulders. An awareness that brought a chill to the nape of my neck. That heavy, oppressive feeling—the same as I’d felt the night that Vessa had struck down the draken, and in the woods outside of Three Rivers—cloaked my skin. I’d felt it before when we were in Stonehill and I’d heard that voice urging me to lose control.

The same one I’d heard that night in Lockswood when I’d been floating in the nothingness.

“He’s been waiting.” Callum ignored Kieran, his chin dipped, eyes eager and voice soft, full of worship—so very much like the Priests and Priestesses in Oak Ambler. “This whole time, he too has slept fitfully. Kept well fed under the Temple of Theon.”

Kieran’s skin blanched as a shudder rocked me. “The children,” I gasped. “The extra Rite.”

“He had to be strong enough to awaken, and he was.” Callum dragged his teeth along his lower lip. “When you shed the mortal flesh and began your Ascension, it freed him. And soon, when Malec takes his final breath, he will be at his full strength. All these years—all these centuries and centuries—he’s been waiting. Sleeping even more restlessly after your birth. Sensing you, feeling you. He’s been waiting and waiting for the proverbial key to his lock, for his…pretty poppy to pick and watch bleed.”

Red-hot rage swirled through Casteel, gathering in my throat like a pool of acid. He moved so fast, I didn’t see his hand until it was tearing through Callum’s chest, and the Revenant’s heart was in his palm, dripping blood and thick tissue.

Malik and Millicent turned to him. “What?” Casteel snarled, throwing the heart aside. “I couldn’t listen to another word. Not even going to say I’m sorry. Fuck him.”

Delano’s imprint brushed against my thoughts. Something’s coming…

No, someone was already here.

Death.

Destruction.

Stale lilacs.

Oh, my gods.

The dread exploded into panic as I jerked to the side. “Kolis.”