He looked as horrified as I felt, trying to pry from his wrist the serpent that tied us together like some unholy rope. It was clear hewanted to charge forward—to attack the Light Bringer—but I refused to let him. The Shadow Bringer and I grabbed the serpent rope at the same time: I yanked left; he yanked right. He was glaring daggers at me, clearly distracted, but managed to simultaneously blast darkness at Mithras, sending him flying.
Taking advantage of the momentary chaos, I hurled my weight toward the woods, desperate to break the bond that tied me to him. Unfortunately, the Shadow Bringer was dragged along, plummeting into my side. I kicked him, but the shadow bond only tightened, bringing us closer together.
“He’s within my reach. For the first time in five hundred years, he’swithin my reach,” the Shadow Bringer breathed, chest heaving. “Let me go, Esmer.”
It was the first time he’d said my name, and it ignited something strange in my chest.
Disgusting.
“I can’t.” I tested the shadow again, but it didn’t budge. It sat tight on my wrist, looping up and around my forearm in the same manner it clung to the Shadow Bringer’s. “But maybe this binding will make you easier for the Light Bringer to kill.”
“If I die,” he said darkly, “your beloved Light Bringer won’t forgive you. He’ll simply chain you to the dark like a prisoner. Just as he did with me.”
“He’d never make me inherit your darkness, Shadow Bringer. This is all just a terrible misunderstanding.”
“You think so?” The silver in his eyes flashed. I had clearly struck a nerve. “Then know that your version of reality is built on lies and deceit.” His riotous gaze fell to his gauntlet-covered arms. He flexed them, anxious to be rid of the serpent. Nevertheless, it clung on. “But I suppose that doesn’t matter. Soon I’ll be rid of you—for good. Mithras wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The darkness began to rush back to the Shadow Bringer, surging to his hands. What remained rose behind us in a threatening tempest, filling half the sky with a pit of starless night. The sudden influx ofshadows left the clearing in front of us empty, void of anything but the Light Bringer, his legion, and—
Demons. Dozens of them.
Mithras pointed a deadly charge of light our way, screaming at the legionnaires to strike us and the demons—just as the Shadow Bringer brought the tempest down, swallowing us all.
My eyes creaked open, straining as the world wobbled alive.
Soft golden light worked through the air, and for a moment, I thought I was still dreaming. But the light fanned out, lapping against polished ivory, decorative gold metal, a small shelf of books, and paintings that wrapped around a domed ceiling. I felt plush velvet against my hands, even though they were bound by ropes. Heard horse hooves and theclinkof rattling metal. Smelled honeyed wine, inked paper, and the subtle scent of something deliciously masculine. Expensive cologne, perhaps. What I didn’t expect to see was the Light Bringer sitting across from me in the most extravagant carriage I’d ever seen.
“You’re awake.”
The Light Bringer, unmasked, lounged in the seat across from me. Although he held himself casually, his face contained a riot of emotion: unease, disgust, and confusion.
He leaned forward, looming over me. His bare face was striking: tan skin, molten gold eyes, and blond hair that fell to his shoulders, escaping the band that bound it. A beloved, golden king. He looked exceptionally younger than I had anticipated him to be, but his centuries of rule showed in his eyes.
“So, you’ve returned to us after all,” the Light Bringer began, his full mouth slanting into a frown. I couldn’t decipher his expression. Hatred? Condemnation? Every breath made it harder to tell. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
I inhaled sharply, wanting to answer, but my throat had closed again. A muffledwheezecroaked from somewhere within me. The Light Bringer unhooked a flask from beneath his mantle. He brought it to my lips, positioning it carefully so that it didn’t spill, and I drank deep.
Water. Blessed, blessed water.
In any other context, I might have felt nervous being this close to him.No onewas ever so close to the Light Bringer, never mind being hand-fed water out of his personal flask. But there was no time for those emotions. No time for formalities, either.
“Why am I bound? Where is my family, my lord?”
Mithras leaned back, and I noticed a faint scar splitting his brow.
“The Light Legion does not tolerate the Corrupt. Unmanaged, they will destroy a village. Unpunished, they will destroy a kingdom.” As he talked, he removed his gloves and set them on the bench. A spray of blood marked them. “The Corrupt are known deceivers, worming their way into the light when they’re still rotting from within. Fortunately, our Maker is a forgiving god.”
“Where is my family?” I repeated, on the verge of hysterics.
“Where do you expect them to be?”
I halted. “What?”
He gave me a strange, inquisitive look, as though he was gauging something—or considering a new possibility. Whatever it was, the expression passed swiftly. “We began our purification ritual, starting with your parents, but the ceremony was breached by a demonic presence. It took a long time to reestablish the ritual and save what souls remained.”
A deep, bruising ache dragged along my scalp and ended between my shoulders, forcing me to bow my head. Thoughts swirled aroundin bizarre fragments. Memories clouded in on themselves. Even reality itself—the reality of Mithras pinning me with eyes of burning embers—felt distant, somehow. I centered my breathing, focusing on the carriage’s scent of wine, old books, and expensive cologne.
Mithras placed a hand atop my shoulder, grazing the edge of my neck.
