A strange, ancient magic hummed around us as he worked the clay around her wrist, and I wasn’t certain if it was the magic of the Three or something unique to Adriel. It didn’t feel like the power he’d used when he’d dragged me through the earth. That had been violent, destructive magic, whereas this felt like the song of creation itself.
When he was finished, I stared in astonishment. Morta’s hands still shone with that strange golden light, though it had faded to a dull glow. She wiggled her fingers and drew in a gasp, astounded at the sight of her hands moving as though they’d never been gone.
“Thank you, Child of the Clay. And thank you, Daughter of Two Realms.”
I squirmed under her gaze, uncomfortable having her gratitude directed at me. Even though I’d entered a deadly nest of vampires and nearly been drained alive in my attempt to recover the hands, it was Adriel who’d managed to reattach them.
The royal guard gave a gruff nod and stood, turning toward the stairwell. “I’ll wait for you at the top, shall I?”
I gaped at him. This was it — the reason we’d risked everything to find the hands. The moment we asked the Death Bringer to cut the ties of the souls bound to Semphrys. And he wanted to leave because he felt uncomfortable?
Then I remembered how he’d angered the Three onour last visit and decided it might be better if I did this on my own.
“You’re most welcome,” I said to Morta, trying to decide how to phrase my request.
“Your sacrifice shall not be forgotten,” she continued. “My sisters and I owe you a debt. I believe you already know how you would like it to be repaid.”
Slowly, I approached the glittering tapestry, my gaze gliding straight to the tangled mess of threads near the bottom. One was thicker than all the rest, leaching an unsettling darkness as it twisted and pulled on the strands around it.
Semphrys’s thread.
My chest thrummed with anticipation as I opened my mouth to ask her to cut the threads of all the souls entangled with his. But before I could, I became aware of another golden strand — one that warmed my insides and made me think of burning cedar in a hearth on a cold mountain night.
Kaden’s thread hung from Semphrys’s, woven from the very same glittering fiber. It was unsettling to see the physical manifestation of their sire bond. The king’s sinister essence seemed to flow down into Kaden, poisoning his very soul.
My heart squeezed.
My mate was one of so many who were bound to Semphrys against their will. It seemed impossible to cut them all out without creating a massive ripple effect.
But perhaps there was a simpler answer.
“Can you cut the demon king’s thread?” I asked, wondering why I hadn’t thought of it before. It wouldcertainlybe easier than storming the Dark Palace and plunging my witchwood blade through his heart.
“No,” said Morta with an air of finality. “The Kingdom of Dorthus is a place of rest for all souls who have departed the mortal realm. Itmusthave a king.”
Rage and grief bubbled up inside me at the injustice of it all. Dorthus wasn’t a place of rest. It was a festering pit of darkness that had been so corrupted by Semphrys’s greed that souls could no longer reach the Valley of Light. If the king wasn’t stopped, there would be no magic to replenish the land, and life in the Otherworld would cease to exist.
Tears blurred my vision as I stared down at Kaden’s thread, and the realization hit me like a punch to the gut.
The Dark King’s thread waspartof Kaden.
What had Kaden said about the sire bond? That it could not be severed completely? If I killed Semphrys, did that mean Kaden would die too?
A cold chill swept over me as I recalled what he’d said as we’d made love in the forest.
I can’t help but think I might yet meet my demise at the end of your blade.
Then my mind shot back to the night before he’d been imprisoned, when he’d returned my dagger.
Only you can end him . . . andme, if necessary.
He’d been strangely solemn that night, and he’d forced me to make a promise — a fae bargain sealed with magic.
Swear to me that you will find a way to end him, no matter what the cost.
My stomach bottomed out. He’d known all along that the cost would be him.
And I’d foolishlyagreed, not knowing what the bargain meant.
