He scowled at me. “You’re in a mood.”
I shrugged, my eyes constantly pulled toward the balcony behind him. No midnight bird, only the sun beginning to rise.
“I’m tired.”
Isaiah nodded. “Feeling better since your return?”
I shrugged. “Sure.” He stared at me for far too long. The last thing I wanted was for Isaiah to worry over me. “I’m fine, I promise. Just slept too long.”
“Well,” Isaiah hopped to his feet, “get dressed. We both have legions to attend to, and the reprieve she gave you is over.”
I nodded and forced a smile before walking toward my closet.
“What about his kingdom?” Isaiah said, and I stopped. “When will we tell her where they stay? She’s already asked me, Brother. I’ve kept my mouth shut because I know you still harbor feelings for Dianna, but I think she knows I am keeping something from her.”
I blinked and looked out past the balcony off my room, my hands flexing at my sides. A bird made of midnight perched in one of the towering trees, staring back at me. Something was amiss, an unease I’d felt since my return. A part of me knew I should tell her. Another part of me screamed defiance.
Death watched me, and I studied him. Finally, I turned back toward my brother.
“Not yet,” I said. “Just … not yet.”
Isaiah nodded, but said nothing as he left my room, closing the door softly behind him. I knew he would say nothing more about it until I did. His loyalty to me was far greater than to our sister. My only question was why Death wished for me to keep my mouth shut. Was it because Nismera would not only find Samkiel’s kingdom and decimate it, but also Dianna? No matter what I had lost to Oblivion, that part of me remained intact.
I still loved Dianna.
THE DAYS BLEDtogether, yelling at soldiers, training soldiers, sitting to eat, spewing shit about what we liked and disliked. When I retired for the night, I dreamed every night of my past, and then there was that fucking bird staring at me, haunting me. Death switched from Dianna’s face to showing me the victims of my past. Cold dead eyes on every man or woman I’d slain, finding me in every room, every courtyard, every fucking day and night, all of them constantly whispering, telling me tolook deeper. I was losing my godsdamned mind.
“And what of Oblivion, my king?” one of her Order members asked. “Perhaps you should continue to use that to our advantage.”
My body tensed at that word. The world flashed, and I saw Samkiel standing with us on that lost world, looking more like a demon than any god had a right to. He’d gripped that blade so easily, purple flashing sickly within the swirling darkness. When he’d moved, he’d been so fast, there one second and the next … nothing. He was a false idol in silver armor. A beacon of hope and peace, yet the power he wielded could unravel worlds if he so wished. I was a fool not to see it sooner, an arrogant fool. I knew Nismera’s power, but did not fear her like I did him.
I curled my nails into the arms of the regal chair we sat in, trying to steady my nerves. I unclenched my fingers, flexing my hands, hoping no one here had noticed. Concentrating, I took one deep breath and then another, battling the images threatening to send my mind into a terrified rage. I was here, not there. There was no darkness, no empty howling nothingness. Another breath, and I caught Isaiah watching me. I forced my hands to my lap and tossed him the most reassuring look I could manage. His pierced brow lifted, but he returned his attention to Nismera.
Nismera shook her head. “Unfortunately, it only worked once. The ring crumbled beneath its own power. I plan to send more gold to Milani to supplement the armada. We will continue to finalize our next stage and prepare more weaponry.”
Another councilman nodded. “Arrange that, yes.”
“Of course, my king.”
On it went, with discussions and debates centering around battle plans, possible traps, and strategies. It seemed endless, and when I heard the cry of that fucking bird, I snapped. My chair scraped across the floor as I practically flung myself away from the table and headed for the door.
“I’m sorry,” Nismera said. “Do you have somewhere more important to be?”
Her voice penetrated my need to escape, and I stopped. I turned toward her, but it was not her I saw. That damn raven was perched on the golden dome of one of the large buildings in the city, watching and waiting.
“I don’t feel so well,” I said, trying to keep my gaze focused on her. She stared at me for a moment before offering me a quiet nod and a smile, dismissing me. I spun on my heel, but I hadn’t missed the way she looked at me, as if she didn’t believe me.
IHADN’T LIED, though, and I spent the rest of the day in my room, unable to keep any food or drink in my stomach.
I washed my face in the sink and looked up into the mirror. The lights in the bathroom were off, and the red eyes glaring back at me were bright in the gloom. My sleep pants hung low around my waist, but my chest was bare, revealing a body I’d honed into a weapon. It held enough power and grace to seduce and destroy, yet the faint brown scars along my chest were a testament to its vulnerability.
I slid my hand over the thin line at my neck. It was so fine that unless you knew to look, you wouldn’t notice it, but to me, it was proof of my failure. I lost more than I knew in that realm. I felt like I was here, but not. No one could see it, but I was a living ghost of flesh and blood, empty and alone.
Cold seeped across the floor, and I groaned at the intrusion. My life was not my own. I was not free. In reality, I was bound to the horrid being who had invaded my room, a puppet on Death’s strings.
“Look deeper,” she said once more.
My hand shot out to grab the bar of soap off the sink. In one smooth motion, I sent it sailing through the air, only it didn’t make it far. Isaiah stood in my bathroom doorway, soap in hand, looking behind him, then at me.
