Page 104 of Throne of the Wolf Queen

‘Why?’

‘Because we need to stop him. I need to stop him.’

He groaned, his hands flying up. ‘Don’t you ever learn, my king? You can’t do this alone. You⁠—’

‘I won’t be alone.’ The wolf growled next to me, his eyes set on the boat. ‘That damned God will only listen to one of us on this beach. And it isn’t me. But as Pablo isn’t able to control the oars, I have to get him there.’

Asher closed his dark eyes, and for a moment, I thought I’d waste precious seconds arguing, before the hint of a smile lit up his face and he nodded.

‘We’ll continue with the plan. I’ll represent Asmar and meet you there.’

I readied to race through the tide when Asher grabbed me and I flung my arms around his broad shoulders.

‘I trust you, my king, I do.’ Tears threatened to spill again at his words. ‘But by all the Gods, old and new, do not die on me. Skye will never forgive me and I’ve only kissed her once.’

We pulled apart, and I nodded, incapable of words. With the wolf at my heels, I shoved out the boat and leapt in, chasing down the most powerful God in existence before he reduced our world to rubble.

CHAPTER 39

SORROW

They all avoid the exiled prince. I don’t blame them. The creature is a mess of tears and snot. It hides in shadows, red eyes staring around as though we’re a house of horrors. No. No one bothers with it. No one but I. And one day, that snotty beast will turn against the Elmswoods. It’ll belong to me and me alone.

​— ​LOST JOURNALS OF PRINCESS DELPHINE, SECOND DAUGHTER OF CARUSH

The empress’s face quivered each time she looked my way as we trailed the ash pathways to Vyrus’s temple. Obsidian cliffs towered over us, trembling with anger at her trespass. Ifan threw me in the corner next to a woman, her hands bound. I peered closely. She cracked open her pearly eyes, her black skin stained by the tracks of golden tears, and my heart sank. This was no mere mortal. This must be the coveted Deviant she’d discovered. Though as her rasping breaths seeped through her pale, broken lips, I wasn’t sure how much longer the poor woman had.

‘She needs water,’ I demanded, rounding on the empress.

The damned woman giggled before shoving her face in mine. I steeled my spine, gripped my still-sodden skirts, fighting back shivers.

‘Oh, she needs more than water.’ She grasped the woman’s chin, tilting her face. ‘Don’t you, dear.’

The Deviant flinched, shifting between the empress and me, anger shining behind her proud eyes as the empress let go.

I blinked, desperate to focus on the temple where the brotherhood had worshipped Vyrus, back when each God had their own shrines. Thick clouds, ready to spill their dark fury, billowed behind the crumbling onyx columns. Why would the volcano react now? Was it tied to the God? The roof, once a mass of pure Vyrium, had caved in centuries ago when pirates had learnt the value of the rock. I shivered against the chill wind blowing across as Eiriulf and the only remaining brother battled to light candles around a circular altar. The throat-splitting Anomaly set a huge tome upon the lectern, bronze flickers sparking in the dust motes. The empress’s boots landed with a harsh thud as she spun in circles, Vyrus’s heart glinting in the ailing light.

Ifan approached his empress, stumbling and shaking, before presenting her with a bowl. It was so damn hard for me to make out, but from the bronze glints, it must have been Vyrium too. Did she truly harbour the belief that she had the power to raise the God? That he’d tear the world to shreds for her? To what end? None of this made sense. Though as the abbot raised a huge shard of Vyrium and a dagger, his hungry eyes on the Deviant barely clinging onto life next to me, my skin prickled at the thought her intention may be darker still.

I turned to the Deviant, my breath catching as her skin split and fractured, allowing the merest glimpse of sunlight from within. I swallowed against the pain she must have endured.

‘Do you know her plans?’ I asked, terrified my whisper was too loud. Her white eyes held my gaze and a brief smile hooked up the corner of her mouth before fading.

I huffed. ‘Your gifts?’

She closed her eyes as more fissures split her face, more rays of light piercing her flesh as her tongue dragged itself across her dry lips.

‘Gifts?’ She coughed out a laugh. I started; her voice was so soft for one who looked as though it had been an age since a drop of water had crossed her lips. ‘My sweetest child, I appear to have the gift of bad luck.’

‘That’s something we have in common then.’ I lay my head against the ashy rock as the ground writhed, thundering once more. The volcano hadn’t erupted in over a thousand years. ‘Damn you, Evella.’

The Deviant’s eyes cracked open and she seemed to shift to shield me as the empress sat down before us. The dagger, the bowl and the Vyrium laid out before her.

My chest hollowed. I’d escaped before, but I’d had the wolf, Matthias or just some damn luck. What did I have now? My breath caught at the realisation her deranged face may be my final vision.

‘You don’t have to do this you know,’ I said, thankful the desperation writhing through my veins didn’t show in my voice.

‘And what is it you think I’m doing, Asmar?’ She twisted the dagger in her pale hands.