Shadows spilled from Kol, the temperature of the room rising as they writhed. “That treacherousbitchof a goddess took something, long ago. I haven’t felt a whisper of it since, but when your little queen was here—I thought I had imagined it at first. But the more I’ve dwelled, the more I’ve realized. Whatever I am missing was given to yourMariah.” Kol spat her name as if ittasted foul on his tongue. “I should’ve known; Zadione gave her everything else. Why not give her the stolen piece ofme?”
Kol’s rage grew as he spoke, sparks of sunfire now dancing amidst the curling tendrils of his shadows. Andrian’s ravaged shadows, along with the ice in his heart, balked at the rage of the god.
Dread coiled through Andrian, cold and hollow. What if Zadione really had stolen from Kol, long ago, and hidden that piece where she’d hidden all the rest of her secrets: with Mariah?
If it were true, then Kol’s return was so much worse than just an ousted god seeking to return to the world. Kol’s vengeance was personal, and it was now centered around one person.
A person Andrian would gladly spend an eternity suffering all the torments of the world for. Whatever it took.
He’d been convinced before, but this solidified everything for him.
Kol could never be allowed near Mariah again.
The doors at the back of the great hall burst open. Kol’s gaze shot over Andrian’s head. He straightened his spine, shadows slinking back beneath his skin as he fixed the lapels of his fitted black jacket.
“Speak, herald.”
“A new arrival, Your Holiness.” The herald’s voice was youthful, shaky. Kol grinned, looking again at Andrian.
Andrian wasreallystarting to dread that look.
“Lord Gabriel Laurent has arrived from Antoris, as commanded. He awaits an audience with Your Holiness.”
Chapter 2
The sunrise bled over the rolling desert hills of Kreah, and Mariah’s heart bled with it.
A droplet of sweat rolled down the length of her nose. Dark hair stuck to her cheeks even as the last of the cool night air brushed her skin. Her dragon-winged dagger was a comfortable, familiar weight on her thigh.
The rhythm of her run was steady, eating up the miles as she wound through the thin grove of desert acacias. A rooftop loomed in the distance, the approaching outline of High Counsellor Amasis’s manor orserekah.
Mariah’s lungs ached, and the muscles in her legs burned, but still, she ran. One week in Kreah, and she found herself craving the pain. Craving the distraction that only her physical body could give her—craving the way she could settle into that sweet, blissful detachment.
One, two. One, two. She counted the alternating strikes of her feet on the packed sands. There was safety in this repetition. There was comfort in this silence.
Anything to keep the broken hopelessness of her thoughts at bay.
She’d seen none of the city of Desva, the Kreah capital, beyond this grove. She’d met with none of the other Elders beyond Amasis, and even they had only stopped by once, despite offering their home to Mariah and her displaced court.
Without a crown and driven from her kingdom, whatever part of Mariah that had made her a queen died when the dragon had slipped back beneath her skin.
Rays of early sunlight spotted the path winding through the grove. It hit her sweat-dampened cheeks, gilding her bare arms and shoulders, the shadows that formed on the edges of its light greeting her like an old friend.
She wished the sun would burn. She wished it would scorch and mar and maim.
Mariah hated that it felt like divine perfection instead.
She closed her eyes, tipping her chin up for more of that light. It was an impulse she couldn’t help, could never help, no matter how much it disgusted her.
Her foot caught on a small rock in the path and she stumbled, catching herself against the trunk of an acacia. She took the moment to pause, chest heaving in lungfuls of the dry desert air. Exhaustion—sweet, welcomed exhaustion—prickled in her limbs, buzzing through her fingers, burning behind her eyes.
It still wasn’t enough to chase away the loneliness. The stillness in her chest where seven bonds had once thrummed.
They were still there. They had to be. The men at the end of six of those bonds were waiting for her just at the end of this trail. She would return her magical connection to them, no matter the cost.
The seventh…
She couldn’t think long about the seventh. She couldn’t think long about many things.
