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Finan lunged forward and slapped Soren’s hand away. “That’s enough. We’re wasting time.” Facing me, he frowned. “What the fuck are we doing talking to a thief?”

I exchanged a look with Axel. “If you want Silver off the throne, we need Soren to help us find the piece of Drak’s soul that will bring him back and dethrone her.” Though he already knew enough to bring us here, I reminded him of our goal. He was still the executioner, still a killer of witches, still…not entirely trustworthy in my opinion. Though I rarely trusted anyone.

“I don’t care who’s on the throne as long as—” he glanced at Stasia and then swallowed.

She lifted her chin. “No, Pup, don’t stop now. Say it. As long as what?”

He ran his teeth over his lower lip before shaking his head. “Just as long as we can all eat again, rather than being eaten.” His gaze darted from Stasia to the bowls of blood.

“Hmm,” Stasia said. “I do enjoy a good meal.”

Soren snorted. “Me too.” His gaze was suggestive as it trailed over Stasia’s dress. The fact that we’d been wearing the same clothes and only bathing in streams without florals and oils didn’t deter his interest.

Stasia’s rosy cheeks went almost as red as the blood gathered around Axel.

Finan cursed again. “Let’s get on with it. If we’re looking for a soul, then why the fuck are we standing around like the useless Grimward I sacrificed to vampires when they hesitated⁠—”

Stasia placed a quiet hand on his arm, which silenced him with a single touch. She shook her head and offered him a grim smile. “Nobody wants to hear you rant, Pup.”

As she murmured, I stood and faced Soren, producing the crystal from my pocket. His green eyes flashed, and shadows swelled around him, ominous and curious, as if they were entities of their own.

In a blink, the shadows vanished, and he closed the distance between us. Snatching the soul from my hand, breath caught in my throat. My stomach dropped as he held it up to the waning lantern. The crystal didn’t burn him like it did everyone else.

“I’ve never seen one so restored,” he marveled. “This is fascinating. And these cracks…” his jaw fell open as he scrutinized it.

“Cracks?” I reached for it absently.

“There are cracks where the pieces rejoined,” he stated, his gaze locked onto the crystal. For the first time, I noticed the delicate, spiderweb cracks separating the first and second shard's growth. I squinted at the nearly non-existent crack snaking through Drak’s soul. It was thin and jagged, but also blacker than midnight.

“Are the two shards not…restored?” I asked, speaking through the quiver in my throat.

“No, it’s restored, but these are memories of what his soul once became.” He looked up at me. “I think his soul will remember being broken, maybe even being a vampire. I don’t know what that means, but goddamn, it's beautiful, isn’t it? It’s—” he stopped himself and lowered the crystal, offering it back to me. With a swallow, he gathered himself. I didn’t want to think about what Drak’s soul might remember. “I suggest you take it away before I estimate how much a beauty like this would fetch on the shadow market.”

“Shadow market?” I couldn’t help myself as I wrapped my fingers around the crystal.

“Vampires, humans, and witches all buy,” he said as he gestured toward the stairs. “I’ve even sold a piece of a soul to one of those people…. What are they called?” he snapped twice. “West Anglans? The wooded folk. You know? From across the pond. Anyone with a coin and the will to do so can find a way. Souls are very valuable, and most valuable to the vampire who lost them.”

Stasia laughed. “By lost, I’m assuming you stole these souls and then sold them back to those you stole from?”

Soren wagged his finger at her. “She’s a smart one. Damn if I don’t like them cunning.” After folding his arms again, he added, “And a little angry and mean too. You know, ladies who like to yell and will fight with me⁠—”

“Too bad for you,” I said before Finan cut the half-Valkyrie’s head off. Based on the ferocity swimming in the eyes behind the wolf mask, he was ready to unsheathe his sword and gut him before he said another word. “Stasia is the sweetest person I’ve ever met. Smart, but never mean. Now, can we focus? I’m here for King Drakkar.”

“That bastard,” Soren frowned as he said it. Flashes of the Grimward disparaging my husband’s name came back with a vengeance.

I swallowed a hiss and nodded. “Drak. The true king, your king.” Straightening, I held his gaze. “I’ve found the first two pieces. I just need to restore the final piece, and I believe, based on Brynhild’s account of the only other attempts to restore a soul, that the last piece is here in Mara’s Keep. I’ve been told that you can help us find it.”

He brought his hand to his mouth, tapping thoughtfully and then scratching at his short facial hair. “I can help find any broken soul, that’s true. But I’ll tell you right now, there’s not a single sliver of anyone’s soul anywhere near Mara’s Keep. I guarantee it.”

My stomach dropped. After all the good that’d come from descending into the bowels of this hideous castle, finding Soren and seeing Axel, sourness swirled at the back of my tongue and the hope I’d clung to as tightly as I clutched Drak’s soul dissipated faster than Soren’s shadows.

His soul wasn’t here.

Where are you, Drak?

Lux

Ipried my teeth apart long enough to hiss out a few words. “I don’t believe you.”