He steps closer, his presence dominating the narrow hallway. “With your gift—your energy, your potential—I could be unstoppable. I could rule without challenge. Unite the fractured realms under one banner.”
I look past him at Torbin, but he doesn’t seem to oppose my father’s plan. Of course not. He’s banking on being part of it.
The guards jerk my arms again, and I stumble, catching myself just in time. I glare at the tsar, trying to hide the heat of my anger.
“And in exchange for you giving me your gift,” he continues, “you will be allowed to live—with Torbin as your mate. You would be given lands of your own. Freedom. Status. The wealth of ten kingdoms. You could have more than Delasurvia ever gave you.”
I let out a slow, measured breath, forcing my hands to stop trembling. My blood is a fire I cannot release here, not while the guards hold me like a prize. Not when the seer can stop me with one breath. Freedom, status, wealth… all of it is worthless if I’m not myself. If my power is gone.
And of course, with Torbin bonded to me as my husband, the tsar would be assured that I remember my place. That I don’t step out of line.
“You want to rip the magic out of me,” I say, the words razor-sharp, “and you thinkyou’redoingmea favor?”
He inclines his head, almost kindly. “I think I’m giving you a choice.”
“No,” I spit, the cold truth lancing from my tongue. “You’re giving me a fucking ultimatum.”
The tsar’s eyes sharpen, but his composure remains eerily calm. “I had hoped you’d see reason. But my seer is a master of her craft. She has told me your power can be removed with or without your consent.”
A tremor ripples through my chest, but I press my lips together, forcing my jaw rigid.Without my consent…He would take it, anyway. But he underestimates me if he thinks that frightens me.
His gaze hardens further. “Let’s see how far your resolve carries you if you refuse, dear daughter.”
The guards drag me to a set of massive double doors. They swing open to reveal a balcony high above a vast arena. My stomach drops as they shove me forward to the balustrade. I grasp the stone, looking down over the expanse below.
The arena sprawls like an amphitheater, ringed with iron cages, each one holding a snarling carnoraxis. Their eyes gleam in the dim torchlight, their claws scraping against the bars with an almost musical rhythm ofmenace.
My gaze sweeps the empty ground below. Why here? What does he want me to see?
Then, with a sudden clang, the gates at the far end of the arena swing open. A dozen—no, more than a dozen—Dulcamaran citizens are shoved forward, herded by guards with long spears. Some stumble; some cling to each other in panic. Tears streak faces already pale with fear. I see a small child pressing her face against her mother’s chest, shaking. Others huddle together, whispering prayers or sobbing outright.
My heart hammers against my ribs. My chest tightens so sharply, I can barely draw a breath.
Oh, fuck! No!
My stomach twists with dread. I glance across the arena again, taking in the terrified citizens pressed together in the center.
Torbin stands at the edge of the balcony, his posture rigid, expression unreadable—but there’s no fear in his eyes. Only cold calculation. He watches the chaos with a detached interest, as if he belongs here, as if he agrees with the tsar’s methods.
I could stop this. I could end the bloodshed now, if I just tell him that I’m the third-born fae he’s been searching for. Just one sentence could change the fate of these people. But I have to choose: the fate of the few versus the fate of the many.
No. My uncle’s words echo:“He will kill you if he finds out. And if he killsyou—the one who is supposed to end his reign—then our hope is lost. And the precious realms will die, anyway.”
My chest tightens. I can’t do it. I can’t give him that power. I have to survive. I have to find another way.
I glance down, trying to muster the fire inside me. I can feel it, coiled, ready to surge—but the tsar’s seer, standing a few paces behind him, watches me closely. If I try anything, she’ll use her siren magic to stop me.
Then the iron gates of the carnoraxis’ cages clang open, and a low, growling roar fills the space. The beasts leap forward, claws scraping the stone, teeth bared. Panic erupts among the citizens. Mothers scream,children cry, people scatter and hold fast to each other.
I launch my hands forward, trying to channel energy, to create a shield, to throw the beasts back—but the seer releases a low hum, blocking my magic instantly. It’s like hitting a wall of ice, and for a moment, I can’t even breathe.
“No!” I cry out, but the sound is swallowed by the din of screams. My stomach twists.
The carnoraxis surge, teeth snapping, tearing flesh, splattering blood, ripping body parts to shreds. I cannot stop them. I cannot fucking stop them. A mother holds her child’s hands tightly, shrieking at the top of her lungs as one of the beasts tears the panicked child away from her with its claws. Her bellowing stops when another creature rips out her throat. The citizens’ faces are etched with pure terror—and my hands tremble.
I can’t—
I can’t—
