At the same time that I’m smoothing blood flecks off her cheek, I’m all too aware of the panic spreading through the castle.
My godkissed hearing picked up on the servants’ terrified screams as soon as Sabine unleashed her earthquake. Someone on the first floor now cries out in pain, pinned by a falling ceiling joist. A gaggle of maids cluster in the Twilight Garden outside, frightened words spilling from their lips as they try to understand what has happened.
I mean, I get it.
Nature just came fuckingundone.
My gaze shifts to Sabine, carefully studying the contours of her face. There’s a part of her that is—and always will be—my perfect violet. I feel it in my gut, missing memories be damned. That tender curve of her mouth, the readiness to smile at any passing nuthatch. There’s a brightness in her eyes—still hopeful, somehow, even though they’re unfocused.
And yet.
Silver fey lines cut down her smooth temples, running down her neck to disappear under her traveling clothes. Her incisors have grown, flashing like a predator’s.
I have to admit it: She’s not just a girl who sings with spiders anymore.
She’s as dangerous as any fae god.
Because…fuck, I can hardly say it.
She’s one of them.
Heavy footsteps approach, and the flutter of unsureness in my chest tucks itself away, replaced by a protective roar.
Immortal Vale’s iron-tipped boots come into view. Anger tightens like a fist in my gut as I glare up at him.
“What’s happening to her?” I bark. “She came alive—only to weaken again.”
“The Gloaming.” Vale speaks with irritating calmness as he strokes a hand down his silver beard, seemingly unbothered by the decimated throne room. “It happens whenever a god is awakened from their human body. The transition is not gentle. It’s violent, it’s painful. We all went through it.”
He lifts a hand toward the other fae. Now that the river has drained back through the floor cracks, Samaur is righting one of the toppled wooden chairs. Iyre hunts through the overturned wine bottles for one with a few sips remaining. She finds one, and Artain tries to swipe it from her, but she bares her teeth at him like a snake.
“It’s always hardest on her, however.” Vale’s voice hitches as he gazes, softer now, on his daughter. “On Solene.”
I wince at the name.
So, there it is.
Immortal Solene, the Wilderwoman, Goddess of Nature.
The muscles along my shoulders pull tight, wanting to resist the reality in front of me. But what’s the point of fighting it? Thebitter truth is out, now, and there’s no going back to the way things were.
“You made her into Solene?”
Vale scoffs. “She alwayswasSolene. I merely awakened her true self.” He draws a step closer. “Give her to me, Lord Basten. She’s more special than you know.”
I snatch the Serpent Knife off the floor and brandish it with white knuckles. “Not another fucking step forward.”
Vale stops, eyes on me instead of the blade in my hand, a curl of condescension riding the corner of his mouth. “There is no need for a blade, Lord Basten. You are protected. My daughter and I sealed a fae bargain that cannot be broken. For better or worse, all of our fates are bound, now.”
I shove to my feet, raking the hair off my forehead.
“It’sherneck I’m defending, you ass. Not mine.”
His right eye twitches at the brazen insult. I can smell the fury radiating off him, and for a second, I’m sure the only thing keeping my head on my shoulders is that very bargain he mentioned.
Finally, he explains in strained patience, “The Gloaming drains an awakening fae of their power.”
Though his words are slow and calm, I can pick up on the waver of urgency behind them. His eyes flick to the window, then back. The side of his jaw twitches.
