Opening my eyes, I saw that my father had moved on. My gaze remained on the garden. The weather had killed the night-blooming roses, and fuck, I hoped Poppy had no fond memories of them.
Lifting my hand, I rubbed my sternum, trying like a fool to ease the sudden, deep ache there. It wasn’t as strong as it had been in the Great Hall after Cas passed out. I hadn’t known then that what I had been feeling was Poppy weakening. I’d chalked it up to the inexplicable dread that had seized me, and it being related to what was happening to Cas. I didn’t even realize what it was when he woke, seeming to know in his bones that something had happened to Poppy. It made sense that he’d felt it first. Felt it stronger. They were heartmates, a bond more powerful than anything the Joining could create. I likely would’ve felt it more if there had been time. Or maybe that was why I’d been so susceptible to Kolis’s influence. Why theDeminyenPrimal essence hadn’t protected me. I’d been weakened without realizing it. I didn’t know if that made a difference or not.
The snowy landscape blurred as my mind did what it did whenever I let myself think about Poppy. Worry gnawed at me. Guilt followed.
Fuck, we’d made a mess of things.
The three of us.
I didn’t know if it was something that had slipped Poppy’s mind with everything that had happened after ending the Blood Crown, but I…I’d had time. Fucking tons of it as I sat beside Cas and listened to him talk to Poppy while she was in stasis. I should’ve told Cas about the promise. Could’ve given him a chance to process it. Come to a realization that it wasn’t an oath born of a lack of trust. It would’ve allowed him to understand that it was something done to protect him.
Then it wouldn’t have come out the way it had. The three of us could’ve talked it out before it exploded in our faces for a second time. Fuck, I should’ve said something to Poppy despitewhat Cas demanded. And he should’ve said something himself. Should have given her a chance to explain.
We all had a whole bunch ofcould’ve,should’ve, andwould’vethat didn’t mean shit now.
Sighing, I dragged my stare from the window. My gaze drifted over the wide sofa that was bound and determined to give me a permanent crick in my neck and landed on the stack of parchment—another thing that left me awed but for different reasons than watching the children play in the snow. There were petitions from Ascended and the people of Solis, legal appeals from merchants seeking the settlement of disputes, tax ledgers, requests for land grants, and so on, and so forth. How the hell Cas kept up with them while Poppy was in stasis was beyond me. As was how the hell anyone could be concerned with who had first rights to trade routes while it fucking snowed in summer, and the true Primal of Death was somewhere out there.
Then again, that was the beauty of mortality, wasn’t it? The ability to move on when everything seemed immovable.
A warm throb of eather pulsed in my chest, and my gaze flicked back to the window just as a shadow swept over the garden. My eyes narrowed. A moment later, a heavy thud shook the walls. The stack of parchment toppled, the documents spreading across the desk and sliding to the floor.
I exhaled heavily.
The leather chair creaked as I leaned forward. Gathering the letters, I stacked them once more and then rose. I’d just picked up the last of the missives that had fallen when a knock came.
“Come in,” I answered, straightening.
The doors swung open. Emil was the first to enter, and I swallowed a curse as his scent reached me. Not because it was mingled with my sister’s—I was willing to overlook that because the auburn-haired Atlantian was solely responsible for Netta still being with us. He’d stopped her from…harming herselfwhen Kolis came. It was the change in his scent—something I had been able to pick up on quicker and easier after the Ascension. It was his sweat. The saltier, sharper scent of unease.
He wasn’t alone.
I placed the parchment atop the pile, pressing it flat with my palm as my gaze flicked to the towering male behind him. The sight of Attes—how uncannily familiar his features were to the Da’Neers—always caught me off guard. But seeing him now with a face nearly identical to the man who had been like a second father to me, hit me square in the chest.
The Primal god was quiet—always quiet—as he stepped aside, hand resting on the hilt of the broadsword strapped to his hip. For some reason, I suspected that Attes hadn’t always been as quiet as a wraith.
That he had been as loud as Malik had once been. As teasing as Cas…
As Cascouldstill be—would be, I told myself.
The last one to enter was the one who’d caused the neat stack of parchment to scatter.
Reaver.
I was only a little surprised that he wore pants—actual breeches. Two days ago, his ass had been on display for all. Yesterday, he’d wrapped some sort of table linen around his hips that barely covered his ass.
I didn’t say any shit to him like I normally would. The fucker had been grouchier than usual and had nearly bitten Brann’s head off when the wolven got too close to the draken while he stretched himself out in the courtyard as if sunbathing his scaly ass atnight.
“Do I want to know?” I said when no one spoke.
“Want the interesting news first?” Emil asked, stopping to stand by the oval table large enough to seat all the generals and then some. “Or the slightly concerning news?”
I gave him a flat stare as I leaned against the edge of the desk.
“Okay, then.” Emil reached between the parted leather folds of his unbuttoned surcoat, retrieving a folded slip of paper. “This came from Three Rivers this morning, notifying us of Na’Lier’s impending arrival.”
“Hopefully, the letter explains what has taken him so long to reach Carsodonia,” I stated as Reaver drifted forward, hair damp from the melting snow.
“It does not.” He dropped the letter onto the table. “And it’s going to take him longer. Apparently, he’s waiting for…” His jaw flexed, and his scent changed, becoming heavy and bitter. Sorrow. He cleared his throat. “He’s waiting for Tylan to join him.”
