The War of Two Queens (Blood And Ash Series Book 4)
The War of Two Queens: Chapter 8

I was dreaming.

Though not a nightmare from a long-ago night or one birthed from too-recent anguish and rage.

I knew that as soon as I drifted out of the nothingness of sleep and found myself in a different place. One that didn’t even feel like something from a dream because every one of my senses was awake and aware.

Warm, churning water lapped at my waist and bubbled along my inner thighs. Heavy and humid air settled against the bare skin of my arms and breasts like a satin veil. Water fizzed around the cluster of rocks jutting from the surface of the heated pool. Wisps of steam danced in dappled sunlight, twining around lilacs that smothered the walls and stretched across the ceiling, perfuming the air of Casteel’s cavern.

I didn’t know why I dreamed of this place instead of something horrific, or how I’d even been able to reach such a deep level of sleep on the eve of battle. Maybe it was knowing that I would soon be on my way to Carsodonia, replacing the keening sense of desperation with purpose. Perhaps that had given me the peace of mind I’d needed to truly rest and dream of something pleasant and beautiful.

I skimmed my hand through the water, smiling as it tickled my palm. Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back. Water tugged on the tail of my braid as damp, sweetly scented air…stirred.

Awareness bore down on my shoulders, sending a shiver through me as my hands stilled and my eyes opened. Tiny bumps broke out all over my skin. I inhaled sharply—and the breath snagged as a different scent reached me. One that reminded me of…of pine and decadent spice.

“Poppy.”

My heart stumbled. Everything stopped. That voice. That rich, deep voice that carried a slight musical lilt. His voice. I would recognize it anywhere.

I whipped around, sending the water into a hissing fury. My entire being tensed, and then a shudder rocked its way through me.

I saw him.

In the damp heat of the cavern, I saw his soft, black hair already beginning to curl against the slash of his brows, and the sandy-hued, high cheekbones—ones that appeared sharper than I remembered. But that full mouth… I shuddered again. His mouth was slightly parted as if he’d inhaled and couldn’t take another breath. A shadow of a beard ran along his cheeks and his strong, proud jaw, giving him an unfamiliar, rugged, and wild look.

He stood before me, the water lazily swirling against those fascinating indents on his inner hips. He was as bare skinned as I was, the tightly rolled muscles of his abdomen and the delineated lines of his chest appearing more defined, starker than I remembered.

But it was him.

My first.

My last.

My everything.

“Cas?” His name came from the depths of my very soul, and it stung and burned the entire way past my lips.

His throat worked on a swallow. I’d never seen his eyes so bright. They were like pools of polished gold. “Poppy.”

I didn’t know who moved first. If it was him or me or if we both moved at the same moment, but it was only a heartbeat—less than one—and then his arms were around me. The feel of his hot, wet skin against mine was a shock because I felt him, from the hard flesh of his chest to the coarse hair on his legs. Grasping his cheeks, I marveled at the sensation of the prickly growth against my palms, something I’d never felt on him before.

I felt him.

He held me tightly, leaving no space between us. Leaving no way for me to not feel that he trembled as badly as I shook. His hand slid up the length of my spine, leaving a series of hot, tight shivers in its wake. He sank his hand into my braid.

In the recesses of my mind, I knew this was only a dream, even if nothing about any of this felt like a dull replica concocted from my desperate, lonely mind. Not when the cold, achingly vast holes in my chest filled with the feel of him—all of Casteel.

“Poppy,” he repeated, his breath against my lips. And then his mouth was on mine.

His lips—oh, gods, I drowned at the feel of them. I didn’t think any memory could capture the unyielding hardness or the lush softness. I didn’t think any memory could recreate the way he kissed.

Because Casteel kissed as if he were starving, and I was the only sustenance he’d ever desired. Ever needed. He kissed as if it were the first thing he ever truly wanted and the last thing he needed.

I slid my hands into his damp hair, shaking at the feel of the strands sifting through my fingers. The edge of a sharp fang dragged across my lower lip, heating my blood in the way only he could. I kissed him back, desire sparking and igniting as a pulsing twist of pleasure curled the muscles low in my stomach. The intensity of it caused me to jerk against him—against the hot, hard length of him—and frenzied need exploded.

Casteel groaned as his fingers curled into my hair, and those long, drugging kisses became shorter, rougher. His lips tugged at mine. My teeth clashed with his. These kinds of kisses tore through me, leaving little fires in their wake—flames sure to consume me, even in a dream. And I knew that was all this was. A dream. A reward I didn’t think I deserved but would greedily take, nonetheless. Because I needed him. Needed to feel warm inside again.

And with Casteel, I was always like flesh and fire.

I looped my arm around his broad shoulders as I dragged my hand down his face, his throat, to where I felt his pulse pounding. My hand dropped to his shoulder. “Please. Touch me. Take me.” The words that spilled from my mouth carried no taint of shame. There was no room for that in this fantasy. No awkwardness. No hesitation or second-guessing. Just need. Just us. Only these stolen minutes mattered, even if they weren’t real. “Please, Cas.”

“You know better, Poppy. You don’t ever have to beg.”

Another full-body shudder took me at the sound of his voice—at the words replacing the last ones and the hoarsely shouted pleas.

“You have me,” he swore against my swollen lips. “Always.”

“And forever,” I whispered.

He shook even harder. “I needed to hear that. You have no idea how badly I needed to hear you.” He reclaimed the distance between us, capturing my lips with his. “Did my need somehow conjure you into reality? I don’t know. I can’t think beyond this. Beyond the way you feel.” His sharp fangs tugged against my lips once more, scattering my thoughts. “Not when you’re here, in my arms.”

The kiss deepened again as his tongue touched mine, sending a flurry of swirling, heated sensations through me. “Not when I can taste you. Feel you.” His shaking hand slid over my arm, grazing the side of my breast and then my waist. He kept going, the rough calluses on his palms just as I remembered. His hand slipped under the water and closed around my hip, his fingers pressing into the flesh there. He dragged his hand back up, cupping it to my breast as a primitive, raw sound left him. I gasped.

“I feel this.” He ran his thumb over the aching tip of my breast, and then his palm skimmed my waist again, delving once more under the water. When he gripped my hip this time, he tugged me up and against him and his rigid length. “Can you feel me? Tell me. Can you feel me, Poppy?”

“I feel you.” My fingers tangled in his hair as I rocked against him. I wanted to feel him moving inside me. I wanted to feel that delicious tug and pull. “You’re all I feel, even when you’re not with me. I love you so much.”

His hoarse cry swallowed mine as he pulled me down onto his thick length—

A shock went through me. The feel of him stretching me, filling me was pure pleasure with a wicked bite. An intense sensation that was…

I stiffened, my pulse racing. The feel of him, the enormous presence… Gods, it felt real.

Like really real.

I looked down at us—at the hardened tips of my breasts and the fine dusting of hair on his chest. At where my soft belly met his harder one. I watched him breathe quickly and raggedly. I watched him shake as he held himself still while deep inside me. I felt him twitch where we were joined under the churning water. I continued staring at us—at him and his body. The leanness to his frame that hadn’t been there before. The thin marks that slowly appeared, spreading across his chest beside the numerous faded nicks and cuts of his old scars. My already pounding heart sped up.

“Is this…is this real?” I whispered.

Casteel lifted his head, his heated stare piercing mine. His arm tightened around my waist. “Your eyes,” he said, his voice thick and husky. “There isn’t just an aura behind the pupils. There are streaks of silver piercing the green.” Confusion pinched the tense lines of his face. “I’ve never seen them like this.”

The way he described them reminded me of something. Of her. The Consort. The back of my neck cooled rapidly. I breathed in deeply and caught the scent of something else beneath the lilac and Cas’s lush, pine spice.

The musty scent of damp, stale air.

The chill in my skin spread, but his felt hotter. Feverish. “Do you feel that?” I shivered as goosebumps broke out. “I’m…I’m cold.”

“I…” He trailed off as his head jerked at the sound of… It wasn’t falling water. It was a heavier sound. A clanking.

My breath caught. I stared at him—really looked at him. The shadow of a beard. The hollows under his cheekbones. The cuts in his skin. I saw the moment the confusion cleared his radiant, golden eyes.

And wonder poured into them. “Heartmates,” he choked out.

“What—?”

Casteel kissed me again. Hard. Consuming. He kissed me as if he could draw me into him. When his mouth left mine this time, he didn’t go far. “Gods. Poppy, I miss you so bad it hurts.”

Pressure clamped down on my chest. Tears rushed to my eyes. “Cas…”

He folded both arms around me and held me tighter than before, but I was even colder. He trembled as he dropped his head to my shoulder. His chest rose with an unsteady breath against mine.

“Poppy,” he breathed, kissing my cheek, the space below my ear, and then my shoulder. He pressed his mouth to the side of my neck. “My beautiful, brave Queen. I could stay here, holding you, forever.”

Oh, gods, I knew this was ending. Panic exploded. I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t. “Don’t leave me. Don’t leave us. I love you. Please. I love—”

“Find me again.” His head lifted, and his eyes…they were no longer bright, his features no longer clear. Things were hazy, and I couldn’t—oh, gods, I couldn’t feel him. “Find me. I’ll be waiting here. Always. I—”

I woke without warning, my eyes widening as I gulped in air, my heart racing.

It took several moments for my thoughts to slow enough for me to recognize the moonlight-kissed canvas walls. A fine sheen of sweat dampened my skin, and I swore I could… I could still hear the fizzing water of the cavern.

I’ll be waiting here. Always.

I shuddered, closing my eyes and trying with everything in my power to go back to the cavern. To him. But it didn’t work. I couldn’t put myself back into the dream, but I still felt him. The warmth inside me was still there, slow to fade, as was the acute throbbing. My hands tingled—my entire body did. As if the touch had been real. As if the feel of him, hot and hard against me and inside me, had been real.

But it hadn’t been.

Slowly, I became aware of Kieran’s weight beside me and his soft, muffled snores. He was curled against my back, asleep in his wolven form. Thank the gods my dream hadn’t woken him. I turned my head, spying Casteel’s ring on the nightstand, bathed in the faint moonlight. I started to reach—

A scent made its way to me.

One that didn’t make sense.

Grabbing my loosely braided hair, I inhaled deeply. The scent was unmistakable.

Pine and lush spice.

And sweet, fragrant lilac.

Shock rolled through me. I jerked upright, startling Kieran. He lifted his head and looked over his back toward me.

His thoughts brushed mine, woodsy and rich. Poppy?

I couldn’t answer him. Not when my heart thundered. I looked down at the section of braid that smelled of lilac. How was this possible? There were no lilacs around here. And if there were, that wouldn’t explain how I could smell…Casteel. And I did. It couldn’t be my imagination.

Concern stretched out from the wolven, and I felt the bed shift suddenly. Kieran closed his hand around mine. The touch of his very mortal skin against mine rattled me out of my thoughts. I looked at him, seeing a whole lot of bare skin.

“Poppy? What is it?” His gaze searched mine. “Has something happened? Talk to me.”

I swallowed. “I…”

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“No,” I said, and Kieran relaxed. “It was a dream. About…about Casteel. It wasn’t a bad one, but it wasn’t like any I’ve ever had.”

“A sex dream?”

“What?” I dropped my braid.

“You had a sex dream.”

I stared at his shadowed features, stunned for a second. “What makes you even think that?”

“I don’t think you want me to answer that,” he said. “It will embarrass you.”

“How—?” Then it hit me. Wolven and their godsdamn sense of smell. I lifted my chin, refusing to be embarrassed. “Why do you think I’ve never had a sex dream before?”

Kieran lifted a shoulder. “I figure you don’t have a lot of sex dreams.”

I blinked. “Why?”

“So it was a sex dream?”

“Oh, my gods. Why are we even talking about sex dreams when you’re sitting beside me naked?”

“Does my nudity bother you, meyaah Liessa?”

It didn’t.

Well, not exactly.

At this point, I was getting used to the bare skin buffet that came with being around so many wolven—and, apparently, draken. But right now, when I could still feel Casteel inside me, Kieran’s nudity felt…different. Not bad or wrong. Just different in a way I couldn’t explain. But it made me think of what he’d witnessed when I awakened after my Ascension. He’d been in that room, stopping me from taking too much blood, holding me by the waist as I rode Casteel…

My breath and body snagged, and…dear gods, I really needed to stop thinking in general.

One side of Kieran’s mouth curved up in response to my non-answer. A teasing grin I saw in the delicate dance of moonlight making its way through the window.

My eyes narrowed. “You’re teasing me.”

He reached over, gently tugging on the sleeve of my shirt—well, his shirt that I’d helped myself to while the one I slept in was still drying after being laundered. “I would never.”

I crossed my arms. “I’m being serious. The dream was too real.”

“Dreams can feel like that sometimes.”

“This was different. Here.” I grabbed my braid, shoving it toward him. “Smell my hair and tell me what you think it smells like.”

“Not something I’ve been asked to do before, but there’s always a first, eh?” Kieran took my braid, dipping his head and inhaling. I sensed the immediate change in him. “I smell…” He rocked back a few inches, still holding onto my braid. “I smell Cas.”

Air punched out of my lungs. “And lilacs, right? I dreamt of the cavern in Spessa’s End, and he was there.”

“I smell that and…and something…” He frowned.

“Musty? I did, too, before waking up. Everything felt real up until the end when I started to get cold and then noticed things about him. He appeared thinner. He even had several weeks’ worth of facial hair on his cheeks. There was a moment when he…oh, gods.” I swallowed. “I think he thought it was a dream, too, but then he somehow realized that it wasn’t. He said my eyes looked different. That there was more silver in them. Can you see them now?”

“They look normal—well, the new normal. That aura behind your pupils is there,” Kieran answered, lowering my braid to my shoulder.

“When he saw my eyes, that’s when he, like, became aware that…that it wasn’t a dream.” I shook my head. “I know that doesn’t make sense, but he knew it was about to end.”

“Did he say anything?”

“No. Just that he…” I miss you so bad it hurts. The breath I took was broken. I couldn’t speak that aloud. “He said ‘heartmates’ but didn’t explain why. He told me to replace him again and that he’d be waiting.”

“Heartmates,” Kieran murmured, the skin between his brows puckering. He’d always suspected that Casteel and I were that—the rare union of hearts and souls that was rumored to be more powerful than any bloodline.

I hadn’t believed Kieran at first, but the moment Casteel and I had stopped pretending, I’d stopped doubting.

Kieran’s eyes widened suddenly. “Holy shit.”

I jerked. “What?”

“I heard my father say something once about heartmates. I completely forgot about it.” Kieran picked up my braid again and breathed deeply. When he spoke, his voice had become hoarse. “He said that heartmates could walk in each other’s dreams.”

Shock rippled through me. I didn’t know what to think, but if it was real? Good gods…

But why would tonight have been the first time? Was it because I’d slept deeply enough, and the nightmares hadn’t found me first? Or was it the first time Casteel had been able to replace me?

And what if it was something we could do again? I wouldn’t waste the opportunity. I could replace out where he was being held—if he knew. I could make sure that he was okay—as okay as he could be. I would use the time for anything other than…

The heated words I’d whispered against his mouth filled my mind, causing my steps to falter. The way I’d spoken to him—how I’d begged him? My entire body flushed.

“What are you—?” Kieran stiffened at the same moment a wave of tiny bumps spread across my skin. An intense chill swept down my spine. The Primal essence roared to life, throbbing as a sudden dark and oily sensation settled over me, soaking into my skin and stealing my breath.

Kieran’s head snapped back to me. “You feel that?”

“Yeah. I don’t…” My heart lurched in my chest. I turned my left hand over, shuddering with a burst of relief. The golden swirl across my palm shimmered faintly. “It’s not—”

Lightning streaked across the sky, so bright and intense it lit up the inside of the chamber, briefly turning night to day. A crack of thunder followed, rattling my chest and ears.

Kieran rose as I pulled my legs out from under the blanket and stood. The borrowed shirt slid down my thighs as I grabbed the dressing robe from the foot of the bed, pulling it on.

The sound of booming thunder eased off, giving way to nervous neighing from the nearby stables. I went to the window and pulled the curtains back. Thick shadows rolled across the sky, obscuring the moonlight and plunging the bedchamber into near darkness.

“This is odd,” Kieran said as I turned, walking to the drapes that sectioned off the bedchambers. “It’s not nearly warm enough for such a storm.”

A howl came from outside, the scream of roaring air. Wind slammed into the manor, lifting the curtains at the windows. Air poured in under the gaps, icy as the darkest hours of winter, blowing through the entire room. The gust pulled strands of hair free from my braid, tossing them across my face. Another bolt of lightning streaked overhead, and the wind…it smelled like stale lilacs.

That was what Vessa had smelled like.

The heavy canvas billowed, and through the opening, I saw the maps of Oak Ambler that had been brought to the bedchamber earlier fly through the air like birds made of parchment.

“Damn it,” I gasped, racing forward in the blast of thunder that followed. My sock-covered feet slipped over the stone floors as I darted past the chairs. I grasped a map and then another as slips of parchment whipped about.

Slamming the maps down on the low table, I grabbed a heavy iron candle holder and placed it so it kept the maps safe. Wind spun through the chamber, throwing the doors open as bolts of light continued ripping across the sky, one after another, each charging the air. The eather in my chest and my blood…it started to vibrate—

I looked down as the table under my hands began to tremble. Across from me, the table used for private dining shook, rattling the pitchers and empty glasses on the top. Chairs scraped across the floor, toppling over behind me as the rumble of thunder came from above and below.

An outline of a figure filled the chamber’s opening as lightning lit the sky, illuminating Naill’s familiar features. “Are you all right?” he demanded.

“I think so!” I shouted over the rumbling. “Are you?”

“I will—” The manor shuddered, causing Naill to throw out his arms to steady himself. “I will be once the damn earth stops shaking.”

Glancing at the window, I caught a brief glimpse of a darker, winged shadow gliding past. A draken landed outside the manor, its impact barely felt.

“We shouldn’t be in here,” Kieran announced, striding out from the curtained-off section.

I turned, stumbling. In a flash of light, I saw Kieran buttoning the flap on a pair of breeches. “Do you think it’s safer outside?”

“The manor could come down,” he said. “And the last thing I want to be is buried under tons of stone.”

“Not sure that sounds worse than being hit by lightning,” I said.

Kieran said nothing as he stalked past me, grabbing my hand. He kept walking, following Naill. We hurried down the seemingly non-ending hall, out into the storm and the path of a large draken. Naill drew up short as Reaver swept his wings back, tucking them close to his sides.

I spun, seeing the rows of tents housing most of Aylard’s division ripple violently. The draken turned his diamond-shaped head toward the sky. I followed his gaze, my heart stopping as the flashes of light revealed winged shapes.

“What are they doing up there? They’ll be struck by lightning.” Pulling free from Kieran, I charged into the heavy winds toward Reaver. The ground heaved violently, startling me as an entire section rolled like a wave. I wobbled along the unstable ground as dust and dirt exploded into the air. Naill caught my arm as my will swelled through me—the need for them to come down.

Reaver stretched out his neck, letting out a shrill, wavering sound that echoed. He made the call again, and thank the gods, the other draken heeded his order. They started to descend, two and then one more landing around the manor—

A bright flash of light erupted, but it came from below—from inside the manor.

“What the hell?” Naill gasped.

The boom the stream of light made while hitting the sky was deafening and stunning. The bolt arced and then erupted, splitting into several crackling streams of silvery-white light that raced across the entire sky and up into the clouds and the—

The draken.

Someone screamed. I didn’t know if it was me or not as the lightning struck the draken above. The ground heaved, throwing me into Naill. Blinding light washed over the twisting and writhing shapes.

Pain flared in my throat. I was screaming, but I wasn’t the only one. Horror swelled as the draken fell, wings limp and bodies twisting in the wind, slamming into the pines, tents, one after another after another after another—

Then it stopped.

All of it.

The earth ceased its trembling. The lightning vanished, and the clouds scattered, dispersing. The wind cut off. All of it just…halted as if fingers had been snapped. There wasn’t even a breeze.

No draken were in the sky.

Reaver called out again, the sound mournful and low. I heard an answer, wavering and full of anguish.

“No. No. No,” I whispered, pulling free of Naill and walking, then running, toward the nearest collapsed tent.

A nude body lay in the center. I wouldn’t have known it was a draken if not for the patches of dark, charred flesh across the ankles, knees, and every other place there was a joint.

Shoving aside the folds of canvas, I dropped to my knees beside the dark-haired male. I channeled the throbbing eather in my chest as I placed my hands on his arm. I didn’t hesitate. There was no time to think about what I was doing when I’d only seen three land and the rest fall. Heat rippled down my arms, spreading across my fingers as I pressed them into his biceps, feeling the faint but distinct ridges that were shaped like scales. A silvery glow washed over the draken in a veiny web of light and…and then rolled off, washing uselessly onto the tent.

My heart lurched as I tried again, pulling forth even more of the Primal essence and pushing it even harder into the draken.

It did the same, rolling right off him.

Kieran appeared on the other side, touching the draken’s neck. His gaze lifted to mine. “He’s gone.”

I sucked in a breath. “I can bring him back. Like I did with that girl. I just need to try harder.”

“You can’t.” The raspy voice sent a shudder through me. Kieran’s eyes moved beyond me to where Reaver must’ve stood in his mortal form. “You can heal, but once the soul parts a being of two worlds, you cannot restore life.”

Kieran rocked back, blinking rapidly before turning his head to another caved-in tent. To where soldiers and wolven gathered in multiple clusters around—

The anguished, warbling call came again.

“No.” I whipped toward Reaver and started to rise. “I can try with another.”

“You cannot.” Reaver knelt at the feet of the fallen draken, his head bowed.

“Why not?” I shouted, anger and disbelief crashing together. My heart was pounding, my breathing heavy.

“Only the Primal of Life can restore life to any being of two worlds.” The finality in his words was a punch in the gut. “They’re gone.”

They’re gone.

I stared at Reaver as those two words cycled, over and over. Only three had landed, joining Reaver. That meant…

A shudder rocked me. Sixteen had been in the air. Sixteen draken who’d just awakened from the gods knew how long to do nothing but die?

My hands opened and closed as I turned in a slow circle. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“This wasn’t your fault,” Kieran argued, standing.

But I’d woken them. I’d brought them here. They’d followed me—

All that you and those who follow will replace here is death.

I stood on trembling legs, eyes and throat burning as I saw the cracks in the ground, some thin and others thick enough to trip someone up. The fissures spread across the land like a fragile web and continued along the walls of the manor. The roof had no damage that I could see in the moonlight. It was as if no arcs of light had pierced it.

Slowly, I turned to where Naill and several soldiers stood, staring beyond the collapsed tents. Skin pimpling with another chill, I followed their stares. Beyond the encampment, the pines no longer reached for the stars. The trees and the heavy, needled branches were bent forward, touching the ground. It looked like a massive hand had come down upon them, forcing them to bow. I looked at Kieran.

“I don’t know what caused this.” He dragged a hand down his face. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“But we’ve felt it,” Naill uttered, his amber eyes bright. “After those bastard Unseen tried to kill you, and Cas had you in that cabin. That happened when you woke up,” he told us, and I remembered seeing the trees outside the cabin. They, too, had been bent to the ground. “The same kind of storm happened when you Ascended to your godhood.”

“This was not a storm,” Reaver said, and I turned to him. “It was an…awakening.”

“Of what?” I asked.

He lifted his head, and his eyes…they weren’t like earlier. They were still a vibrant shade of blue, but the pupils were thin, vertical slits. “Death.”

My entire body jerked as Vessa’s words came back to me. “You,” she’d said. “I wait for you. I wait for death.”

Numbly, I stumbled back to the manor and started walking. My pace picked up. The dressing robe streamed out from behind me as I ran.

“Poppy!” Kieran shouted.

I flew through the door into the manor, racing toward the Great Hall—to the chambers two doors away.

Kieran caught up to me. “What are you doing?”

“Her.” My steps slowed as we passed the dark room. Behind us, I knew Naill and others followed. “Vessa.”

Reaching the door, I grabbed the handle. Like with the chains at the gates of Massene, I melted the locks. The handle turned, and the door swung open, letting the potent stench of stale lilacs slam into me.

I rocked to a halt, inhaling sharply.

Reddish-black smoke filled the chamber, swirling around the robed figure of Vessa—the same kind of shadowy smoke that had drifted from the ruby-adorned box Isbeth had sent.

“What the fuck?” Kieran threw out his arm, blocking me.

Vessa’s milky-white eyes were wide as she stared at a scorch mark on the ceiling, her arms spread. She stood in the center of a circle drawn not of ash but blood—hers. It dripped from her mangled wrists. Through the churning, thick tendrils of smoke, I saw a sharpened chunk of rock lying near her bare feet.

A thick, oily feeling seeped through my skin, and the eather in my chest pulsed. In the hall, I heard low snarls of warning from the wolven.

“You,” I breathed, the essence colliding with the building anger. Energy flooded my veins. “You did this.”

Her laughter joined the cyclone of smoke.

The corners of my vision turned silvery-white as I brushed Kieran’s arm aside and stepped into the room.

“Careful,” Kieran warned, his hand fisting in the back of my dressing gown as the pulsing smoke whipped past my face, blowing strands of my hair back. “This is some bad shit.”

“Magic,” Perry rasped from behind us. “This is Primal magic.”

“Harbinger,” she cooed, her frail body shaking as the reddish-black smoke whirled. “You were told when you entered this manor, Queen with a crown of gold, that all that you and those who follow will replace here is death.” The reddish-black smoke spun faster, spreading. “You will not harness the fire of the gods. You will win no war.”

My breath scorched my lungs and throat as realization swept through me. “Isbeth,” I hissed, chin lowering as the essence sparked from my splayed fingers. I didn’t know how she was able to do this, but I knew why. “You did this for her.”

“I serve the True Crown of the Realms,” she yelled.

The floor began to shake as the smoke funneled, rising to the ceiling. That smell—the stale lilacs—grew until it nearly choked me. But it was not Vessa that caused the trembling.

It was me.

“I serve by waiting—”

“You served,” I cut her off as the edges of my robe rippled. My will formed in my mind as I lifted my hand. Pure, ancient power spilled out from me, spinning down my arm. Starlight carrying the faintest tinge of shadow arced from my palm, slamming into the smoke. The eather rolled over the storm and cut through it, striking Vessa in the chest. She spun back as the flash of eather pulsed through the chamber, but only her robes fell to the floor. “And death has come for you.”