Sansiran lifts the pendant from my neck. “Yù’chén,” shesays, and with a flick of her fingers, he stirs. “Take her as you so wish. Keep her out of the way while I deal with the mortal heir.”
“No,” I whisper. “Please. You already have the mortal realm.”
“Oh, but I don’t,” she replies. “I can only truly have it once I kill the mortal heir.”
I think of the rumors of how, nine years after our kingdom fell, the mó have kept solely to the Imperial City. A rumor that Yù’chén himself confirmed to me.
Fú’yí’s words come back to me in this moment:It is because there is old magic in the bones of our land—magic as old as the Heavenly Order itself. It safeguards this kingdom for mortals. And it remembers who the true rulers of this realm are.
I dismissed her ramblings as confusion, as the desperation of one who had begun to believe in fairy tales.
But what if there was truth to those words? The legends, after all, must come from somewhere.
When the gods created the realms, the dragons gave the first mortal emperor a drop of their blood. That power runs within us still, centuries later.
“No,” I beg, but Sansiran is already turning away.
From across the room, Yù’chén glances at me. The blood on his face and whatever other wounds his mother inflicted on him are all gone, wiped clean with her dark magic. He is beautiful again, but the sight of his flushed cheeks and lips stirs my disgust. His face has closed off in that way it used to, so that I see only the hard, shadowed planes of his features, the dark red of his irises.
“Àn’ying,”he says harshly.“Come here.”
His command flows through me, a familiar caress ofdarkness I know intimately. I rise to my feet and approach him, yet with each step, I test the limits of his power. I can feel the difference now between the magic of a halfling and the magic of a demon queen. Sansiran’s power bore the weight of mountains, useless for me to resist.
Yù’chén’s is softer. Gentler. Almost as though…he doesn’t mean it. I think of the past few times he compelled me, how I was distracted and not focused on resisting. But if I steel myself now…
I gather every ounce of my willpower and dig my heels in.
My next step falters. I glance down, then quickly up at him, and I see his gaze mirroring mine, darting from my feet to my face. He says nothing; only his arm snaps out, pulling me against him and flipping me around so my back is pressed to him and I’m watching the scene before us.
“Be still,”he says to me, and this time, his power is absolute, twining around my limbs, my ribs, my core, binding me to him. I have no choice but to remain frozen as his hand sweeps to my waist, his other to my arms, pinning me in place. His heartbeat thuds against his chest.
Halfling,it seems to remind me, and I find courage in that. Yù’chén is a half-mó; his power was not even enough to defeat a regular, full mó. If I resisted just now, I can do it again.
I wait for Sansiran to face the sliding doors before I try. Every muscle in my body strains. Then one finger twitches. My other hand gives a shake. Once more, and it might be enough to bend my wrist enough to flick out a crescent blade.
I hear Yù’chén swallow behind me; feel his fingers come to lace themselves with mine.
He twists my arm so hard that I cry out. His other hand pulls me tighter against him. He is rough, cruel, and nothinglike the man who trailed kisses up my skin, who cradled my chin in his hands as if I were something breakable.
I know now how deep deception can go. And I will never make the same mistake of trusting him again.
“Ihateyou,” I whisper, tears warming my eyes.
His voice is low, a rumble in his chest. “I know.”
From beyond the doors of this chamber comes a burst of spirit energy in the night. It is an energy I am familiar with, one that conjures blue skies and white clouds, the radiance of the sun.
Hào’yáng is here. The heir to the Kingdom of Rivers, the child my father gave his life to protect, and my guardian in the jade who has in turn protectedmeall these years, is walking into a trap. Because of me.
Yù’chén has forbidden me to move, but he has not forbidden me to speak.
“Hào’yáng!”I scream. “Hào’yáng, don’t come in! It’s a trap—”
A palm clamps over my mouth, muffling my cries.“Be silent,”Yù’chén commands me, and I obey—but not before I sink my teeth into his flesh. I hear him curse, taste copper in my mouth, but I continue to bite down, and he does not move his hand away. His blood fills my mouth, drips down his wrist.
Another pulse of spirit energy, and the doors slam open.
Hào’yáng stands in the doorframe, his hair and uniform whipping in the wind. Spirit energy rolls through the chamber like thunder. His gaze immediately snaps to me across the room, then locks on Sansiran.
