But the Blades don’t falter. The captain among them steps forward, his voice cold and unyielding. “We answer only to the queen.”
My blood runs cold.
As if summoned by his words, the Blades part, and Lanneth stumbles into the room. She looks nothing like the regal queen I’ve come to know—her face drained, drawn, her usually poised figure hunched with exhaustion. And when I look at her, something far more sinister unfolds before my eyes.
Her glamor wavers.
In the low light, her beautiful face shifts and flickers like a candle about to go out. The Lanneth I’ve known ripples away, leaving behind the monster who first showed itself to me across the table. Her fingers… they’re blackened, charred like the hands of the robed figures from my dreams. And on her forehead, faint but unmistakable, is the same inverted crescent moon rune from the circle beneath my bed.
A guttural rage rises within me. My vision narrows as the pieces snap together, the truth hitting me like a blow to the chest. “It’s you,” I say, my voice trembling with fury. “You are behind all of this. You…” My voice breaks as anger surges through me. “When Daed returns—”
Lanneth laughs, a chilling, hollow sound that sends a shiver down my spine. Her face continues to flicker, her true self—twisted and cruel—peeking through the glamor she wears. Her smile stretches unnaturally wide, and her eyes, dark and empty, lock onto mine with a wicked glee.
“Daed?” she sneers, her voice dripping with contempt. “When Daed returns? Oh, you stupid, naive human.” She steps closer, her voice lowering to a hiss. “When Daedalus returns, he will hold you down until we can finish what we started. Do you understand nothing?”
The flickering of her glamor ceases, her face fully morphing into that of the priestess of the void. I can see it now—her true self, the evil that lurks beneath the queenly facade. Her blackened fingers flex, crackling with dark power as the air around her shrouds with darkness.
My heart races, but her next words rip the ground out from under me.
“Daedalus knows,” she says, her eyes narrowing. “He hasalwaysknown. He is the Prince of the Void.”
The world tilts.
“No…” I whisper, shaking my head in denial, my voice weak, fragile. “No, that can’t be true.”
Lanneth’s lips twist into a cruel smile, her eyes gleaming with a cold certainty. “It can and it is. This bargain was not just for a bride, Amara Tyne of The Grove. It was for a womb, for an heir, for a sacrifice. Gygarth fuels the Mordorin—he grants us aspects of the void. That is why our house rules over all others. But he must be fed. This is the cost for such glorious power.”
She straightens, her composure rigid and terrifyingly calm. “Now, not all is lost. Had you simply played your part, you could have lived for a time in our world, blissfully ignorant of your fate. You would’ve tasted a life no other human could dream of. But you’ve ruined that for yourself, Amara. Now things will be much harder for you. There is no avoiding that.” She pauses, her eyes narrowing as if piecing together something that unsettles her. “But I must know…”
Her voice lowers, and I feel a tremor of dread as her face flickers, shifting between the queen and the priestess of the void. “How did you see through the glamors? There is only one way...” She speaks with disbelief, as though she already knows the answer but refuses to acknowledge it. “You cannot be awakened.”
“I don’t know what I am,” I snap, the bitterness coating my words. “All I know is that I see you for what you truly are—hideous, treacherous, and evil. And when Daed—”
“Are you deaf or simple, girl?" Lanneth’s laughter slices through me, her voice dark and sharp. “How can I make this any plainer? The prince knows. Where do you think his power comes from? Why do you think he’s stronger, faster, more than any of us could ever be? The Father Below blessed him when he came into this world, and the price for that blessing was the life of Queen Veloria.”
My breath falters. I stagger, the truth unraveling like a noose around my neck. But I am not the only one shaken. Arax, standing guard, looks as though the ground beneath him has crumbled. Solena’s hand flies to her mouth, stifling her gasp of horror.
“I served my god,” Lanneth says, her voice dripping with righteousness. Her gaze slides to my stomach, and her words slither through me like poison. “And you… you shall offer the same gift to his heir. The Father must be fed, Amara, and you were chosen long before you knew it. His essence is already inside you, seeping into your very being, filling you with the void’s dark power. One day, it will infuse the Fae child you will carry. It is your purpose—to be the vessel that will feed the Father.”
I stare at her, my heart pounding against my ribs. Every word she speaks burrows into my mind like nails. “There’s no going back now,” she continues, her voice a mockery of pity. “The dark bargain was struck long ago, and bargains… can never be broken.”
I can’t breathe. My chest feels tight, like it’s caving in. The room spins as the full weight of her words settle inside me. This fate, this horror—it was sealed long before I even knew Daed. I was never a bride. I was always a vessel.
“Now, we are wasting time. Arax, bring her. Kill the maid.”
The air in the room freezes, heavy with shock. I take a step back, my heart thundering in my chest, and instinctively reach out for Solena. Her fingers lace with mine, trembling as we stand in silence, eyes locked on Arax. He stands still as stone, his face unreadable, his hand hovering over the pommel of his blade.
“Arax!” Lanneth’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife. “You are a Reaper of the Ebon Flight. You have served this house for centuries, fought for your prince since the day he was born.Obey me!”
Arax bows his head, his hand lingering near his sword. My breath catches, dread pooling in my stomach. I know his loyalty, his sense of duty, and honor. It is that very loyalty that makes me certain he will carry out her orders. I can’t blame him for that. I can’t fault him for what he may do.
“Princess,” his voice is low, almost a whisper.
I swallow, squaring my shoulders, forcing my voice to remain steady. “Yes, Arax.”
“Move.”
A rope of smoke lashes from his hand, wrapping around the high-back chair, and before I can react, Solena and I drop to our knees as he flings it over us, sending it crashing into the Blades. Half of them tumble to the floor, while the others draw their swords with a sharp ring of steel.
