I’d overheard Attes warning Kieran to be wary of the ravens. That some of them—not all—had to be a type ofchora—an animal formed by a Primal god. The keyword beingtype. Primal gods only formedananimal. Not dozens. Hundreds. I didn’t know or give a fuck what they were. All I knew was that they were one of the many…new additions I’d acquired in recent weeks, and where the vines could give me something akin to an impression of the environment, I could see what the ravens saw in crisp, ultraviolet detail.
And I saw the Primal god standing like a sentry by the doors, the golden skin of his face carrying a faint reflective sheen my eyes couldn’t perceive.
I had no idea how long my great-grandfather had been standing there. Finding me asleep had probably brought him a measure of relief—their concern about my lack of rest was another conversation I’d overheard.
But it wasn’t Attes’s presence that had woken me.
I could feel Kieran. He was near. That wasn’t a surprise. I shut down the urge to open thenotamto him. It wasn’t anger that drove me. He didn’t need to see what was inside me. It would…concern him.
The hum in my blood and in my flesh demanded that I move, but I held myself still, channeling that churning, restless energy into something useful. My senses expanded and opened until I felt all the vines that sprawled across the floor, scaled the walls, and twined along the ceiling. Until I found them.
Found Kieran.
He wasn’t alone. Someone was with him, and they were closer. I focused on the mark—the imprint of a wolven. It felt like Kieran’s, earthy and rich, but stronger.
Jasper.
His father.
Muscles along my neck drew taut. He shouldn’t be here. I could feel the change sweeping through me. My skin thinned. Weight settled upon my head, and my back tingled, even though the wings remained tucked away.
But it wasn’t his presence that I felt. I knew that as their footsteps approached and the doors swung wide. My eyes opened. I saw him first as the ravens above took flight, their throaty calls echoing in the air.
Kieran’s vivid blue stare was steady, but there were smudges beneath his eyes. He wasn’t sleeping well either.
My attention shifted to the Primal god, and my chest clenched. It did every fucking time I looked at him, but saw my father. The same proud jaw and high, chiseled cheekbones. Straight nose. Attes was taller, broader, and his hair was lighter, but fuck, he looked so much like my father that it felt like a sucker punch to the chest.
But Attes wasn’t him.
There was nothing left of my father.
Attes pushed himself off the wall, the furrow in his brow tugging at the scar that cut across his forehead and the bridge of his nose.
I knew the moment Jasper saw me. It was the sharp inhale.
My gaze shifted to the man beside Kieran.
A dark cloak hung from shoulders that had carried me as a boy. The garment would’ve been far too heavy for a typical southern winter, let alone the summer—the season we were currently in. But the weather…it wasimbalanced, and Jasper lookedtired. Not the kind that came from traveling across thekingdoms. Or the type of exhaustion that came from having a newborn babe at home. This was the kind that went deeper than the bone and settled into the soul, tasting of grief. The kind I saw in the shadows beneath his son’s eyes. The same tiredness I couldn’t allow myself to feel.
Especially now.
Jasper’s gaze swept over me, starting at the jagged bone crown and then lowering, lingering over the left side of my face where shadows had replaced the flesh, and the silver bone of my cheek and jaw were visible. His gaze dropped to my right hand. It wasn’t the missing finger he stared at, but the gleam of silver bone.
A tart, heavy taste gathered in my throat. Not fear, but unease and wariness.
Slowly, he lifted his eyes. “Cas?”
Flashes of bright-white sand and the crystal-clear waters of Saion’s Cove accompanied the sound of the deep, gruff voice. I didn’t respond.
Jasper stepped forward, causing Attes to mirror his movements. Kieran didn’t. He stood back, arms crossed over his chest, and his gaze fixed on me.
“Cas,” he repeated, his voice thicker, rougher. “I… I’m…” He broke off, and I couldn’t remember a time when he’d sounded so unsure of his words. He still came forward, each step slow as he ignored the ravens flying above us.
“I wouldn’t get too close,” Attes said, the lilt of his accent making his words sound like advice instead of what it was. A warning. “He’s…temperamental.”
Jasper stiffened.
I flicked a flat stare in the Primal’s direction.
