OceanofPDF Com House of Flame and Shadow - Sarah J Maas

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Works by the author published by Galera Record
Throne of Glass Series

The Assassin's Blade
Throne of glass
Midnight Crown
Heiress of Fire
Queen of shadows
Empire of storms
Tower of Dawn
Kingdom of ash
A Court of Thorns and Roses series

Cutting thorns and roses
Cutting through fog and fury
Clipping of wings and ruin
Cutting silver flames
Ice cut and stars
City of the Crescent Moon Series

House of earth and blood
House of heaven and breath
House of flame and shadow
PREPARATION CONSULTANCY
Angelica Andrade Acotar Brazil
Thaís Pol
LAYER
DIAGRAM OF THE PRINTED VERSION Adapted from the original by David Mann and John
Abreu’s System Candell
REVISION COVER IMAGE

Ana Clara Werneck Carlos Quevedo
Luciana Aché
ORIGINAL TITLE
Pedro Siqueira
House of Flame and Shadow
Rodrigo Dutra
CIP-BRAZIL. CATALOGING IN PUBLICATION NATIONAL

BOOK EDITORS UNION, RJ
M11c
Maas, Sarah J.
House of Flame and Shadow [electronic resource] / Sarah J. Maas; Carolina translation
Cândido, Gabriela Araújo. – 1st ed. – Rio de Janeiro: Galera Record, 2024. digital
resource (City of the crescent moon; 3)
Translation of: House of flame and shadow

Format: epub
System requirements: Adobe Digital Editions
Access mode: world wide web
ISBN 978-65-5981-391-9 (electronic resource)
1. American fiction. 2. Electronic books. I. Cândido, Carolina. II. Araújo, Gabriela.

III. Title. IV. Series.
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CDU: 82-3(73)
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Copyright © by Sarah J. Maas, 2024
All rights reserved.

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For Sloane,
who lights up entire universes with her smile.
SUMMARY
The Four Houses of Midgard
Foreword
PART I – THE DESCENT
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PART III – THE ASCENSION

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Thanks
Next, an unpublished short story after the events of Casa de Chama

e Sombra
THE FOUR HOUSES OF

MIDGARD
As decreed in 33 Vanir by the Imperial Senate in the City

Eternal
HOUSE OF EARTH AND BLOOD

Shapeshifters, humans, witches, common animals and many others
whom Cthona commands, as well as some of Luna's chosen ones
HOUSE OF SKY AND BLOW

Malakim (angels), fey, elementals, elves*, and those blessed by
Solas, as well as some favored by Luna
HOUSE OF MANY WATERS

River spirits, mermaids, aquatic beasts, nymphs, kelpies, nøkken and
others protected by Ogenas
HOUSE OF FLAME AND SHADOW

Daemonaki, reapers, specters, vampires, draki, dragons,
necromancers and many wicked and nameless creatures that even
Urd can't see
Use
* Goblins were expelled from their House as punishment for their part in the Fall,
and are now considered Inferior, although many refuse to accept the fact.
FOREWORD
The Doe knelt in front of her immortal masters and pondered what it would
feel like to cut their throats.
A silver choker, heavy and cold, adorned her neck.
It never felt hot on his skin. It was as if the snuffed out lives that that
ornament symbolized wanted the icy grip of death to be felt.
A silver javelin in a feral wolf uniform: the trophy for a rebel who had
been swept from the bosom of Midgard. Lidia had conquered so many
that her imperial attire couldn't handle them all — so many that some
were melted down to make that necklace.
Did anyone in that chamber see the necklace for what it actually
represented?
A collar. With a golden guide that connected it directly to the
monsters in front of her.
And did these monsters suspect that their loyal pet, sitting at their
feet, wondered what their blood would taste and feel like on his tongue?
In your teeth?
But there she was, kneeling, until she was allowed to get up. How the
world would kneel until the six enthroned asteri drained it of every last
drop, leaving its carcass to rot in the void.
The Eternal Palace staff had cleaned the blood from the shining
crystal floor. The metallic smell of blood did not linger in the sterile air,
there were no stray drops that disfigured the columns that lined the
chamber. It was as if the events of two days ago had never happened.
But Lidia Cervos couldn't allow herself to think about those events.
Not while surrounded by her enemies. Not with Pollux kneeling beside
him, with one of his shining wings resting on his head.
her calf. If it were someone else, it could be understood as a gesture of

comfort, of solidarity.
But coming from Pollux the Hammer, it was a sign of possession.
Lidia forced herself to appear indifferent and cold. He made an effort
to calm his heart, focusing on the two fae kings presenting their respective
cases.
“My late son acted on his own,” said Morven, King of the Fae of
Avallen, with a serious expression on his very white face. The tall, dark-
haired man was wearing all black, but he didn't appear to be grieving. — If
I had known of Cormac's disloyalty, I would have turned him in myself.
Lidia glanced at the committee of parasites sitting in

their crystal thrones.
Rigelus, as always inhabiting the body of a teenager
Fae, he rested his delicate chin on his fist.
— I find it hard to believe that you didn't know about the activities
of his son, considering that he kept him on a short leash.
Shadows whispered over Morven's broad shoulders, seeping from his
scale armor.
— He was an insubordinate boy. I thought I had already disciplined
him by slapping him a long time ago.
— You thought it was wrong — sneered Hesperus, the Evening Star,
who had taken the form of a blonde nymph. His long, slender fingers
drummed on the glittering back of his throne. — We can only assume that
the roots of this treacherous act stem from some rot within his royal
household. And now it must be cleaned.
For the first time in all the decades since the Doe had met him, King
Morven kept his mouth shut. He had had no choice but to respond to
Asteri's summons the day before. It was obvious that he did not appreciate
the reminder that his autonomy was an illusion, even on the misty island
of Avallen.
A small part of her was pleased with that—seeing the male who had
been so pompous at Summits, meetings and balls now choosing his words
carefully, knowing they could be his last.
Morven grumbled:
— I had no idea of my son's activities or his treacherous heart, I swear by

Luna's golden bow. — His voice sounded clear as he added, with evident fury:
— I condemn everything Cormac was and stood for. He will not be honored
with a tomb, nor a funeral. No boat will bring his body to the Summerlands.
And I will ensure that his name is expunged from all my household records.
For a second, a single second, Lidia allowed herself to feel sorry for the
Ophion agent she had met; and of the faerie prince of Avallen who had done
everything to destroy the beings before her.
Just as she had also given her all. And I still would.
Polaris, the North Star — in the body of an angel with black skin and white
wings — There —, he spoke slowly:
will be no boat to send Cormac's body to the Summerlands because the
boy sacrificed himself, and tried to take us with him. — Polaris gave a light,
hateful laugh, similar to claws scratching Lidia's skin. — As if such simple-
minded people were capable of doing that.
Morven didn't respond. He had done everything he could, all that was left
was to get on his knees and beg. And perhaps it was even necessary to reach
that point, but, at that moment, the King of the Fae of Avallen held his head
high.
According to legend, not even the asteri could penetrate the mist that
enveloped Avallen, but Lidia had never heard of this being put to the test
either. Perhaps this was why Morven had come—to prevent the Asteri from
having a reason to explore the veracity of the legend.
If they were somehow repelled by some ancient power that surrounded

Avallen, it would be worth going through that humiliation to keep such a secret.
Rigelus crossed his legs, resting an ankle on his knee. Lidia had already
seen the Radiant Hand order the execution of entire families with the same
naturalness.
—What about you, Einar? What do you have to say about your son?
— A shitty little traitor — said Pollux from where he was kneeling, next to
Lidia. His wing was still resting on his leg
her, as if she were the owner of the situation. Her owner.

The Autumn King ignored the Hammer. Ignored everyone except Rigelus
when he responded, resolutely:
— Ruhn has always been undisciplined, since the day he was born; I did
what I could to contain him. I have no doubt that he was deceived by his
sister's conspiracies.
Lidia kept her fingers open, even though she felt like clenching them into
fists. He calmed his heart to a calm and common rhythm, which would not
draw attention to Vanir ears.
—So you seek to spare one child by condemning another? asked Rigelus,
his mouth moving in a discreet smile. —What kind of father does that, Einar?
— Bryce Quinlan and Ruhn Danaan have lost the right to say they are
my children.
Rigelus tilted his head, his short dark hair
flickering under the glow of the crystal room.
— I thought she was called Bryce Danaan. You
Did he revoke her royalty rights?
A muscle twitched in the Autumn King's cheek.
— I'm still deciding what punishment will be appropriate for her.
Pollux's wings fluttered, but the angel kept his head down as he growled
to the Autumn King, "When I get my hands on your
whore daughter, you'll be glad I disowned her." I will do ten times worse
to her than she did to the Harpy.
“You'll have to find her first,” replied the Autumn King coldly. Lidia
reflected that Einar Danaan was one of the few fae on Midgard who could so
openly provoke a powerful angel like Malleus. The Autumn King's amber
eyes, so like his daughter's, looked up at the asteri. — Have your mystics
discovered her whereabouts yet?
— Don't you want to know where your son is? - He asked

Octartis, the Southern Star, with a mischievous smile.
— I know where Ruhn is — replied the Autumn King, without letting
himself be moved. — He deserves to be there. — He turned towards Lidia and
He analyzed her coldly. — I hope you can get all the answers out of
him.
Lidia returned his gaze, her face as impassive as ice—like the
death.
The Autumn King's gaze flicked to the silver choker around her
neck, his mouth curving slightly in approval. But he asked Rigelus,
with an authority she could not help but admire:
— Where's Bryce?
Rigelus sighed, bored and irritated; a lethal combination.
—She chose to leave Midgard.
— An error that we will soon correct — added Polaris.
Rigelus cast a warning glance at the lower asteri.
The Autumn King said, his voice a little lower: —
Bryce is no longer in this world?
Morven looked closely at the other Fae King. As far as everyone
knew, only one place could be accessed from Midgard — there was a
wall surrounding the Northern Rift in Nena, to prevent its inhabitants
from crossing into this world. If Bryce was no longer on Midgard, he
could only be in Hell.
Lidia had never stopped to think that the wall surrounding the
Northern Rift could also prevent the Midgardians from leaving.
Well, most Midgardians.

Rigelus said firmly:
— This information should not be shared with anyone. — The
sharp tone of his words left the rest implicit: under penalty of
death.
Lidia had been there when the other asteri had demanded to know
how it had happened: how Bryce Quinlan had opened a portal to
another world in their own palace and escaped through the fingers of
the Radiant Hand. Their disbelief and hatred were a small victory in
the face of everything else. what had happened, everything that was
still churning inside Lidia.
A silver bell rang behind the asteri thrones as a polite reminder
that there was another meeting scheduled for tomorrow.
little.
— This discussion is not over yet — Rigelus warned the two Fae
Kings. He pointed a slender finger at the double doors that opened
onto the hallway. — If you talk about what you heard today, you will
discover that there is no place on this planet where you can hide from
our wrath.
The Fae Kings bowed and left without saying anything else.
The weight of the asteri's gaze fell on Lidia, seeming to burn her
soul. She endured it, just as she had endured all the other horrors in
her life.
— Get up, Lidia — ordered Rigelus, with a tone that bordered on
affection. Then, to Pollux: — Get up, my Hammer. — Lidia swallowed
the bile that burned like acid and stood, and Pollux followed her
movement. His white wing brushed her cheek, the delicacy of his
feathers contrasting with the rot of his soul.
The bell rang again, but Rigelus raised his hand in wait for the
servant who was waiting in the shadow of the nearby pillars. The next
meeting could wait a few more moments.
— How was the interrogation? — Rigelus dropped onto his throne
as if he was asking about the weather.
— We're in the initial movements — Lidia replied, feeling as if her
mouth didn't belong on her body. — Athalar and Danaan will take some
time to give in.
— And the Hound from Hell? asked Hesperus, his dark eyes
of nymph shining with malice.
— I'm still evaluating. — Lidia kept her chin up and placed her
hands behind her back. —But I guarantee I will get what we need from
them all, Your Graces.
— As always — replied Rigelus, his gaze moving to the silver
choker. — You have our permission to do your best work, Doe.
Lidia bowed with imperial precision. Pollux repeated the movement,

wings rustling. The example of a perfect soldier — what he was created
to be.
It was only when they entered the long corridor behind the throne
room that the Hammer spoke.
— Do you really think that little bitch went to Hell? Pollux nodded
behind them, toward the dull, silent crystal gate on the other side of
the hall.
The busts that lined the path—all of asteri in its various forms over
the centuries—had been replaced. The windows destroyed by Athalar's
lightning have been repaired.
Just like in the throne room, there was no longer any trace of what
had happened. And beyond the crystal walls of the palace, there
hadn't even been a whisper on the news.
The only proof of what happened: the two Asteri guards who now
flanked the Gate. The white and gold insignia glittered in the sunlight,
and the spears carried by his gloved hands were like fallen stars. With
the visors of the golden helmets lowered, it was not possible to see
the faces behind them. It didn't matter, she thought. There was no
individuality in them, no life. The elite: noble angels who were created
to obey and serve. Just as they had been created to bear those bright
white wings. Like the angel beside her.
Lidia walked leisurely towards the elevators.

— I'm not going to waste time trying to find out. But there's no
doubt that Bryce Quinlan will return, regardless of where he ends up.
Behind the windows, the seven hills of the Eternal City undulated
in the sunlight, most of them encrusted with buildings with terracotta
roofs. A barren mountain—more of a hill—sat to the north of the city's
border, the metallic glow on its top was like a lighthouse.
Was it a deliberate provocation to Athalar that the mountain, Mount

Hermon, on which he and the archangel Shahar had planned the
unfortunate battle of their rebellion, the first and last, now housed the
spoils of the Asteri's new hybrid mech-suits? In the dungeons, Athalar
had no way of seeing them, but knowing Rigelus, the positioning of
the new machines was certainly symbolic.
Lidia had read the report the day before, in the morning — what
the Asteri had forged in recent weeks, despite all of Ophion's attempts
to stop them. Despite all her attempts
to stop them. But the written description was nothing compared to how the
costumes looked at sunset. The city buzzed as military transports crested
the hill and deposited them one by one, while news crews rushed to report
on the cutting-edge technology.
Her stomach dropped when she saw the costumes—and again when
He looked at the iron shells shining in the sun.
More proof that Ophion had failed. They destroyed the mech-suit on
Ydra, annihilated the lab a few days ago—and even then, it was too late. In
secret, Rigelus had engineered this metal army and placed it on the barren
summit of Mount Hermon.
They were an improved version of the hybrids, and now it wasn't even
necessary for there to be a pilot to operate them, although they still had the
ability to carry a Vanir soldier if necessary.
As if the hybrids had been a cleverly calculated distraction for Ophion, while
Rigelus, in secret, perfected them. Magic and technology now came together
in lethal efficiency, with minimal costs for military life. But these costumes
were harbingers of death for any remaining rebels, and doomed the rest of
the rebellion.
She should have realized Rigelus's trick, but she hadn't.

And now that horror would be unleashed on the world.
The elevator door opened, and Lidia and Pollux entered in silence. She
pressed the button to descend to the lowest of the sublevels—well, the
second lowest. The elevators did not go down to the catacombs, which could
only be accessed by a crystal fan staircase. There, a thousand mystics rested.
Each of them was now focused on the same task: finding Bryce Quinlan.
Which led to a question: if everyone knew that the Northern Rift and other
gates only opened to Hell, why did the Asteri bother to use so many resources
to hunt it? Bryce was in Hell—surely there was no point in asking the mystics
to find her.
Unless Bryce Quinlan had ended up somewhere else than

not Hell. A different world, perhaps. And if that were the case...
How long would it take? How many worlds were there beyond
Midgard? And what were the chances of Bryce surviving any of them
—or of returning to Midgard one day?
The elevator doors opened into the dank darkness of the dungeon.
Pollux walked along the stone path with his wings well folded, as if he
didn't want even a speck of dirt from the place to stain his immaculate
white feathers. — Is that why you're keeping
them alive? Like bait for that bitch?
“Yes.” Lidia followed the screams past the flickering primaluces in

the sconces along the wall. — Quinlan and Athalar are partners.
She will return to this world because of this bond. And when that
happens, go straight to him.
— And the brother?
“Ruhn and Bryce are Stars,” Lidia replied, pushing open the heavy
iron door that led to the large interrogation chamber.
Metal scraped against stone with a crunch, eerily similar to the sounds
of those suffering around them. — She will want to free him... because
he is her brother and ally.
Lidia walked down the steps to the center of the chamber, where
three males were hanging in the center of the room with Gorsian
shackles. Blood pooled beneath them, dripping onto the railing
beneath their bare feet.
She shut down every part of herself that was capable of feeling, of breathing.
Athalar and Baxian hung unconscious from the ceiling, their torsos
showing a patchwork of scars and burns. And the back...
In the almost silent chamber, the only sound was that of the drops
that fell without stopping, like a leaking tap. Blood was still oozing
from the stumps where his wings used to be. The Gorsian cuffs
delayed healing to almost human levels—preventing them from dying,
but ensuring they felt every second of pain.
Lidia couldn't look at the third figure hanging behind them. I

couldn't breathe around him.
Leather whispered over stone, and Lidia sank deeper into herself
as Pollux's whip snapped. He hit the back
Athalar's harsh, bloody grip, and the Umbra Mortis shook, the chains
restraining him.
— Wake up — ordered the Hammer, mockingly. - The day is beautiful.
Athalar opened his swollen eyes, his dark gaze glowing with hatred.
The halo painted again on his forehead seemed darker than the shadows
in the dungeon. The bruised mouth opened in a savage smile, revealing blood-
stained teeth.
— Good morning, flower of the day.
A low, ragged laugh sounded from Athalar's right. AND,
Despite knowing it was foolish, Lidia looked.
Ruhn Danaan, Prince Herdeiro dos Feéricos of Valbaran, to
stared.
His lip and eyebrow, where Pollux had ripped out the piercings, were
swollen and covered in blood. On the tattooed torso and arms above the head,
blood, dirt and bruises mixed together.
The prince's attractive blue eyes exuded utter contempt.

For her.
Pollux struck Athalar's back with the whip again, without asking questions.
No, that was just the warm-up. The interrogation would come later.
Baxian was still unconscious. Pollux had beaten him savagely the night
before, after cutting off his and Athalar's wings with a dull saw. The Hound
from Hell doesn't even
shuddered.
At night, Lidia tried, projecting her voice into the musty air between her
and the fairy prince. They had talked mentally outside of dreams, but she had
been trying since he got there. Again and again, she projected her mind into
his. He received only silence.
It had been like this since Ruhn discovered who she was. What she was.
She knew he could communicate, even with the Gorsian stones that
hindered his magic and slowed down his healing process. I knew he had
communicated with his sister before Bryce escaped.
Night.
Ruhn's lip drew back in a silent snarl, the blood

dripping down your chin.
Pollux's cell phone rang, a strange, high-pitched sound in this
ancient sanctuary of pain. He stopped his blows, leaving an awful
silence in his wake.
“Mordoc,” said the Hammer, with the whip still in one hand. He
turned away from Athalar's hanging, brutalized body. — Report.
Lidia didn't bother to be bothered by the fact that her captain was
responding to the Hammer. Pollux had taken the Harpy's death
personally—sent Mordoc and the feral wolves to find any clue to Bryce
Quinlan's whereabouts.
He still believed that Bryce was responsible for the Harpy's death,
because Athalar and Ruhn had not revealed that Lidia was the killer.
They knew who she was, and the only thing stopping them from
revealing her secrets was the fact that she was crucial to the rebellion.
For a few moments, as Pollux turned away, Lidia allowed the mask
on her expression to fall away. It let Ruhn see his true face. The one
who had kissed his soul and shared everything he was with him, when
their true selves had merged.
Ruhn, he pleaded in his mind. Ruhn.
But the fae prince did not respond. The hate in your eyes doesn't
decreased. Then Lidia put on her Doe mask again.
And, as soon as Pollux put the cell phone in his pocket and raised
the whip again, the Doe ordered the Hammer, in a low, insensitive
voice that had been his shield for so
long: — It's better with the barbed wire, go get it.
ÿÿÿÿÿ ÿ
ÿ ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ
Bryce Quinlan was in a chamber so far beneath the mountains that

daylight could only be a myth to the creatures that dwelt there.
For a place that apparently wasn't Hell, the surroundings certainly

resembled it: black rocks, an underground palace, an even more
underground interrogation cell... the darkness seemed inherent in the
three people before her: a petite female dressed in gray silk and two
winged males with black scale-like armor. One of them—the handsome,
powerful male at the center of the trio—literally emanated shadows and
stars.
He said his name was Rhysand. Which looked so much like Ruhn.
It couldn't be a coincidence. Bryce had jumped through the Gate
with the intention of reaching Hell, to finally accept the constant offers
from Aidas and Apollion to send their armies to Midgard and interrupt
the cycle of galactic conquests. But instead it ended up there.
Bryce looked at the warrior next to Ruhn's almost twin. The male
who had found her, who carried the black dagger that had reacted to
Aster.
His hazel eyes showed nothing but coldness and
predatory surveillance.
— Someone needs to start talking. — It was the little female who spoke,
the one who seemed shocked to hear Bryce speak in the Old Tongue and
to see the sword. The flickering braziers of something that resembled
primalux illuminated the silky locks of her chin-length hair, casting the
shadow of her thin jaw as if in high relief. He watched Bryce with his eyes,
an extraordinary shade of silver, impassive.
— You said your name is Bryce Quinlan. He said he comes from another
world... Midgard.
Rhysand murmured to the winged male at his side. Translating, perhaps.
The female continued:

— If we are to believe you, how did you end up here? Why did you end
up here?
Bryce surveyed the cell, which beyond them was empty.
No table on which instruments of torture glittered, no cracks in the solid
stone beyond the door and the manhole in the floor, in the center, a few
centimeters away. A manhole from which I could have sworn I heard a
hissing sound emanate.
—What world is this? asked Bryce, his voice hoarse. After Ruhn's body
double introduced himself to the charming, welcoming entrance, he grabbed
her hand. He held her tightly, his calluses scraping against her skin: the only
concrete thing amid the wind and darkness that roared around them, the
world disappearing. And then, there were only solid rocks and faint lights.
She had been taken to a palace carved beneath a mountain, descending
the narrow stairs to that dungeon. There, he pointed to the single chair in
the center of the room, in a silent command.
So she sat there, waiting for restraints or handcuffs or whatever form of

restraint they used in this world, but nothing.
it happened.
The mignon female replied:

— Why do you speak in the Old Tongue?
Bryce lifted his chin at the female.
— Why do you speak?
The female's red painted lips curved upwards.

It was not a reassuring sight.
— Why are you covered in blood that isn't yours?
Female 1 x 0 Bryce.
Bryce knew that her clothes and her hands, covered in blood, now dry and
dark, were not helping her. It was the Harpy's blood, and a little of Lidia's. They
covered Bryce as part of a careful game to keep her alive, to keep her secrets
safe, while Hunt and Ruhn were...
He began to breathe more heavily. She had abandoned them. Your partner
and your brother. She had left them in that palace, in the hands of Rigelus.
The walls and ceiling seemed to compress, taking all the air from his lungs.
Rhysand raised a large, star-encrusted hand.

— We won't hurt you. — Bryce found the rest of the sentence lurking in the
thick shadows around him: if you don't try to hurt us.
She closed her eyes, tried to calm her ragged breathing,

feeling the enormous weight of the rocks above and around her.
Less than an hour ago, he had been running away from Rigelus's power,
dodging exploding marble busts and shattering windows, and Hunt's lightning
had shot through his chest and into the Gate, causing a portal to open. She had
jumped to Hell…
And now... now she was there. His hands were shaking. She closed them
into fists and squeezed.
Bryce took a slow, shaky breath. He exhaled and repeated. Then it opened
his eyes and asked again, in a firm and clear voice: — What world
is this?
His three interrogators responded nothing.
Then Bryce stared at the female, the smallest of the group, but definitely not
the least lethal.
— You said that it's been fifteen thousand years since anyone spoke the Old
Language here. Why?
The fact that they were Fae and knew the language suggested some
connection between them and Midgard, a connection that, little by little,
Bryce began to understand with terrible clarity.
— Why did you have Gwydion's missing sword? —
replied the female coldly.
— What... are you talking about Aster? — Another connection between
worlds.
The three continued to stare at her. An impenetrable wall of
people used to getting answers, no matter what the cost.
Bryce had no weapons, nothing but the magic in his veins, the
Archesian amulet around his neck, and the Horn tattooed on his back. But
to wield them, it needed power, it needed to be recharged like a fucking
battery...
So, words were his best weapon. Thankfully,
according to Hunt, she had been a master at inventing lies for years.
“It's a family heirloom,” Bryce said. — It's been in my world since it was
taken there by my ancestors... fifteen thousand years ago. — He let the
last words sink in with a penetrating look at the female. Let her do the
math, like Bryce had done.
But the handsome male — Rhysand — asked in a voice like midnight:
— How did you find this world?

This was not a male to be trifled with. None of those people were, but
he... exuded authority. As if it were the structure of that place. Some kind
of king.
- I did not find it. — Bryce met his star-studded gaze. A more primal
part of her gave way to the intense power in his eyes. — I already said: my
intention was to go to Hell, but I ended up here.
- As?
The things below the manhole hissed louder, as if sensing his wrath.
Demanding blood.
Bryce swallowed. If they knew about the Horn, its power, the Gates...
what would stop them from using it, in the same way as Rigelus
intended to do? Or see it as a threat to be eliminated?

Master at inventing lies. She could do this.
— In my world, there are gates that open to other worlds.
For fifteen thousand years, they mostly opened themselves to Hell. Well,
the Northern Rift opens directly into Hell, but... — Let them think she's
babbling, that she's a fool. The party girl, as much of Midgard had labeled
her, as Micah had believed her to be, until she ended up sucking up his
fucking ashes. — This Gate sent me here, with a one-way ticket.
Would they have passages in this world? Means of transport?

When she noticed the silence, she explained:
— A friend of mine bet that he could send me to Hell using his power.
But I think... — She went over everything Rigelus had said to her in those
last moments. That the star on his chest somehow acted as a beacon to
the original world of the Starry people.
Trying to turn around, she nodded towards the warrior's dagger.

— In my world, there is a prophecy that involves my sword and a lost
knife. She says that when the two are reunited, the fae of Midgard will also
be reunited.
A master at inventing lies.
— So maybe that's what I'm here for. Maybe the sword sensed that
dagger and... brought me to it.
Silence. Then the brooding warrior with hazel eyes laughed
quietly.
How had he understood without Rhysand translating? Unless
that he could read her body language, her tone, her scent...
The warrior spoke in a low voice that sent a shiver down her spine.
Rhysand looked at him with raised eyebrows, then translated to Bryce with
the same threatening tone: — It's a lie.
Bryce blinked, the picture of innocence and outrage.

—What is a lie?
— You have to tell us. — Darkness gathered in the
shadow of Rhysand's wings. It wasn't a good sign.
She was in another world, with strangers who were evidently

powerful and would not hesitate to kill her. Every word that came out
of his mouth was vital to his safety and survival.
— I just saw my partner and my brother get captured by a group of
intergalactic parasites — she said. — I don't want to know anything
else, other than finding a way to help them both.
Rhysand looked at the warrior, who nodded discreetly, without
looking away from Bryce even to blink.
“Good,” Rhysand said to Bryce, crossing his muscular arms. — At
least that's true.
Still, the female mignon was unfazed. In fact, your
features became even more serious after Bryce's outburst.
- Explain.
They were fey. There was nothing to suggest they were any better
than the scumbags Bryce had known most of his life. And, somehow,
despite appearing to be trapped a few centuries behind her world,
they seemed even more powerful than the Midgardian fey, which
could only mean more arrogance and arrogance.
She needed to get to Hell. Or at least go back to

Midgard. And if he talked too much...
The female, upon noticing his hesitation,
ordered: — Look into her mind, Rhys.
Bryce tensed. Gods. He could enter your mind, see anything he
wanted...
Rhysand looked at the female. She glared at him with a ferocity
that contrasted with her diminutive stature. If Rhysand was in
command, his subordinates certainly weren't expected to be silent
cronies.
Bryce looked at the only door. I wouldn't have been able to get
there in time, not even on the off chance that they had left it unlocked.
Running wouldn't do any good. Could the Archesian amulet protect
her in some way? It hadn't stopped Ruhn's mental chatter, but...
I don't go where I'm not invited spontaneously.

Bryce jumped back in his chair, almost tipping it over when he heard
the soft male voice in her mind. Rhysand's voice.
But she responded, thanking Luna for keeping her voice
calm and under control: Code of ethics for mental chatter?
She felt his hesitation, almost as if he were entertained. You
Have you come across this method of communication before?
Yes. That was all she would say about Ruhn.
Can I look at your memories? See for yourself?
No you can not.
Rhysand blinked slowly, and then said out loud, “Then we'll
have to trust your words.
The female mignon gasped at him.
- But...
Rhysand snapped his fingers and three chairs appeared behind them. He
sat gracefully on one of them, crossing his ankle above his knee. The synthesis
of beauty and fey arrogance. He looked at his companions.
— Azriel. — He gestured slowly to the male. Then to the female. —Amren.
Then he gestured to Bryce and said, his voice neutral:

— Bryce... Quinlan.
Bryce nodded slowly.
Rhysand examined his own nails, cut and clean.
—So your sword... has been in your world for fifteen thousand years?
—Brought by my ancestor. — She considered what she would say next,
then added: — Queen Theia. Or Prince Pelias, depending on the political
propaganda being disseminated.
Amren stiffened a little. Rhysand looked at her, registering the movement.
Bryce dared to press: —

Have you... ever heard of them?
Amren examined Bryce, from his blood-spattered neon pink shoes to his
ponytail. The blood smeared on Bryce's face was now hard and sticky.
— It's been a long, long time since anyone mentioned those names around
here.
Bryce bet it was exactly fifteen thousand years ago.

— But have you ever heard of them? —Bryce's heart
accelerated.
“They once... lived here,” Amren said cautiously.
It was the last piece of information Bryce needed to confirm which planet
it was. Something settled inside, a loose thread finally being put into place.
—That's it, so...this is where we...the Fae of Midgard...come from. My

ancestors left this world for Midgard... and we forgot where we came from.
Silence again. Azriel spoke in their language, and Rhysand translated.

Perhaps Rhysand had been mentally translating the last few minutes of the
conversation for Azriel.
— He said we never heard of our people migrating to another world.
Amren made a soft sound, shocked.

Rhysand turned around slowly, somewhat in disbelief.
—Have we heard? — he asked softly.
Amren brushed invisible dirt off her silk blouse. — It's quite
vague. I've heard it before... — She shook her head. —But when I showed
up, there were rumors. That many people had disappeared, as if they had
never existed. Some spoke of another world, others said they were removed
to distant lands, and some claimed they were chosen by the Cauldron and
secretly taken somewhere.
— They must have gone to Midgard — commented Bryce — guided by

Theia and Pelias...
Amren raised a hand.
— We can hear your myths later, girl. What I want to know,” his eyes
sharpened, and Bryce could barely bear the scrutiny, “is why you came here
when you should have gone somewhere else.
“I'd like to know, too,” Bryce replied, perhaps a little more fearlessly than
she should have been. — Believe me, all I wanted to do was get off your
back right now.
—And go to... Hell — said Rhysand, neutrally. - For

find this Prince Aidas.
These people were not her friends or allies. This could be the world the fae
had come from, but who knows what the fuck they wanted or craved? Rhysand
and Azriel were handsome in appearance, but Urd knew that the fae of Midgard
had used their beauty to get what they wanted for millennia.
Rhysand didn't need to read her mind... no, he seemed to be able to read
everything in her expression. He uncrossed his legs, placing both feet on the
stone floor.
— Allow me to draw the situation for you, Bryce Quinlan.
She forced herself to look into his star-studded eyes. He had faced the asteri,
the archangels and the fae kings, he could face him too.
The corners of Rhysand's mouth turned up.

— We won't torture you and I won't get into your mind. If
Choosing not to speak will indeed be your choice. Just as it will be my choice to
keep you down here until you change your mind.
Bryce couldn't help but stare at the place, his attention shifting
lingering in the manhole and the hissing noises that came from inside it.
— I will definitely recommend it to my friends.
The stars stirred in Rhysand's gaze. — Is it possible
for others from your world to come here?
She responded as sincerely as she could.
— No. As far as I know, they've been looking for this place for fifteen
thousand years, but I'm the only one who's made it back.
- Who are they?
— The asteri. I told you... intergalactic parasites.
- What does that mean?
“They're…” Bryce hesitated. Who could guarantee that these people wouldn't
hand her over to Rigelus? Give in to him? Theia had come from this world and
fought against the Asteri, but Pelias bought their speech and fell to his knees at
their immortal feet without blinking.
Her silence said it all. Amren laughed ironically.
— Don't waste your time, Rhysand.
Rhysand tilted his head like a predator analyzing his

prey. Bryce kept his chin up. Her mother would be proud of her.
He snapped his fingers again and made the blood and dirt covering
her disappear. A stickiness still dampened his skin, but it was clean. She
blinked a few times, looking at her body and then at him.
A discreet and cruel smile appeared on his mouth.

— Just an encouragement.
Amren and Azriel remained impassive, waiting.

She would be very stupid if she believed Rhysand's encouragement
demonstrated any trace of kindness. But I could follow the rules of the
game.
Then Bryce said,
“Asteri are ancient, like, tens of thousands of years old.
— She shuddered as she remembered the place beneath the palace, with
the records of conquests from millennia past, complete with a unique
system of counting dates.
Their captors didn't respond, didn't even blink. Right...
being very old did not seem surreal to them.
— They arrived in my world fifteen thousand years ago, and no one
can say where they came from.
— How did they get there? asked Rhysand.
- Sincerely? I have no idea how they ended up on Midgard. The story
they told was that they would be... liberators.
People who opened other people's eyes. According to them, Midgard was
nothing more than the end of the world, a planet occupied by humans and
non-magical animals. The Asteri chose it to be the place where they
would begin to create a perfect empire, and creatures and races from
other worlds began to flock there through a rift between the worlds called
the Northern Rift. Now it only opens to Hell, but it used to open... to
everywhere else.
Amren pressed.
— A crack. How does it work?
“I don't know,” Bryce replied. — No one has ever figured out how it's
possible... or why it's in that area of Midgard and not another.
Rhysand asked:
—What happened after the other beings arrived in your world?
Bryce bit his mouth before saying: — In the

official version of the story, another world, Hell, tried to invade Midgard to
destroy the still young empire, and everyone who lived there. But the Asteri united
all these new races under the same banner and brought Hell back to their own
kingdom.
In the meantime, the Northern Rift was deactivated and its final destination
permanently became Hell. After that, it was closed most of the time. A massive wall
was erected around it to prevent other native stragglers from Hell from slipping
through the cracks, and the Asteri built a glorious empire, made to last for all eternity.
Or that's what they want us to believe.
The faces before her remained unfazed. Rhysand asked softly, “And what is the
unofficial version?”
Bryce swallowed hard, the flashes of the archives room coming into view.
in your mind.
— The asteri are ancients, immortal beings who feed on the power of others...
they extract the magic of a people, a world, and feed on it. We call it primalux. It is
the source of energy for our world, but above all theirs. They force us to hand it over
when we reach immortality... well, as close to immortality as we can get. Our
complete and developed power is withdrawn in a ritual called Descent, and, in this
process, part of it is drained and destined for the asteri's primalux stores. It is
imposed on our magic.
as a
She wasn't even going to mention what happened after death. How the power
that remained in their souls ended up being extracted as well, forced through the
Gate of the Dead by the Under-King and transformed into secundalux to further feed
the asteri. Whatever was left for them after the Under-King was satisfied.
Amren tilted her head, her short, straight strands moving.

— A tax for their magic, levied by ancient beings to nourish themselves and
obtain power. — Azriel looked at her, Rhysand
probably translating from one mind to another. But Amren murmured

to herself, as if the words reminded her of something: — A tribute.
Rhysand raised his eyebrows discreetly. But he waved his big,

elegant hand for Bryce to continue, “What else?”
She swallowed again.

— Midgard is the last in a large group of worlds invaded by the
Asteri. They have a complete archive of all the planets they have
conquered or tried to conquer. I saw this file just before I came here,
and in all the records, I found only three planets that managed to
expel them... that resisted and defeated them. They were Hell, a
planet called Iphraxia and... a world occupied by the fae. The original,
Starry Fae. — She nodded to the dagger next to Azriel, which lit up
with black light in Aster's presence. — You call my sword by another
name, but you recognize what it is.
Only Amren nodded.
“I think it's because she came from this world,” Bryce added.
—She seems to be connected to that dagger in some way. It was
forged here, became part of your history and then disappeared.
Right? It's been fifteen thousand years since you've seen it or spoken
this language... which fits perfectly with the timeline of when the
Starry Fae arrived on Midgard.
The Star-Spangled Ones — Theia, the queen, and Pelias, the
traitor-prince who usurped her. Theia took two daughters to Midgard
with her: Helena, who had been forced to marry Pelias, and another,
whose name has been lost to history. Much of the true history of
Theia has also been lost, either to time or to the political ideologies
of the Asteri. Aidas, Prince of the Gorge, was in love with her. Bryce knew that.
Theia combateu os asteri ao lado do Inferno, para libertar Midgard.
She ended up being killed by Pelias, and her name was almost
erased from all memories. Bryce carried Theia's light, Aidas had
confirmed. But beyond that, there was no information about the long-
dead queen, not even in the Asteri Archives.
— So you believe — Amren said slowly, her silver eyes shining — that
our world is the third planet that has resisted these... asteri.
It was Bryce's turn to agree. She gestured to the cell and the kingdom
above.
— From what I learned in their archives, long before they came to my
world, the Asteri came here. They conquered, interfered and reigned in this
world. But the fey ended up defeating them. — She let out a short sigh,
analyzing each of the faces before her. - As? — The voice was hoarse,
desperate. — How did you do that?
But Rhysand only looked warily at Amren. She must have been some
court historian or scholar, as he often consulted her about the past. He said,
addressing her: — There's nothing like that in our history.
Bryce interrupted him:

— Well, the asteri remember their world. They still hold a grudge.
Rigelus, their leader, told me that it is his personal mission to find this place
and punish you for throwing them all out on the street. You guys are
basically the Asteri's public enemy number one.
“That's in our history, Rhysand,” Amren added seriously. —But the

Asteri didn't have that name. Here, they are called daglan.
Bryce could have sworn Rhysand's face turned a little paler. Even Azriel
fidgeted in his seat, his wings rustling. Rhysand said firmly:
— All the daglan were murdered.

Amren shuddered. The gesture seemed to make the expression of
Rhysand became even more agitated.
“It doesn't seem like it,” she replied.
Bryce pressed Amren: —
Do you have records of how they were defeated? — A spark of hope
shone in his chest.
—Nothing but old songs of bloody battles and terrible losses.
— But the story... does it seem true to you? asked Bryce. —Evil
bosses and immortals have taken over this world, and you have come
together to defeat them?
Their silence served as confirmation.
Still, Rhysand shook his head, as if he couldn't believe it.
“And you think…” He looked at Bryce, his eyes returning to a

predatory focus. Gods, he was scary. — Do you believe that the
daglan... these asteri... want to come back here to take revenge. After
fifteen thousand years. — There was doubt in every word.
“That's, like, fifteen minutes to Rigelus,” Bryce countered.
— He has infinite time... and resources.
— What kind of resources? — Cold and sharp words; a leader
calculating the size of the threat to his people.
How can I begin to describe weapons, sulfur missiles, mec-suits,
omega boats or even the power of the asteri? How to explain the cruelty
and terrible range of a projectile? And maybe it was reckless, but... she
reached out to Rhysand.
— I can show you.
Amren and Azriel gave him alarmed looks. This could be a trap.
“Wait a minute,” Rhysand exclaimed, and disappeared.

Bryce was startled.
— Can you... can you teleport too?
“We call it crossing,” Amren said slowly.
Bryce could have sworn Azriel's smile was forced. But Amren asked: —
Can you do it too?
“No,” he lied. If Azriel noticed the lie, he didn't catch her attention
this time. —Only two fae can do that.
It was Amren's turn to be amazed.
— Two... on your entire planet?
— Am I going to guess and tell you to have more?
Without Rhysand to translate, Azriel just watched them in silence.
Bryce could have sworn shadows enveloped him, like Ruhn, but… they
were wilder. As with Cormac.
Amren tilted her chin down.
—Only the most powerful, but yes. Many succeed.

As if called, Rhysand appeared again, holding a small silver sphere.
—The Veritas sphere? — Amren was surprised, and Azriel raised an

eyebrow. But Rhysand ignored them and held out his other hand, displaying
a small speck of silver.
Bryce watched them, staring at the sphere he placed on the floor.
- What are those things?
Rhysand nodded at the sphere.
— Hold it, think about what you want to show us, and the sphere will hold
the memories for us to see.
It seemed simple. Like a camera of the mind. She carefully approached
the sphere and picked it up. The metal was smooth and cold, and lighter
than it should be. It was hollow inside.
“Here I go,” he said, and closed his eyes. She visualized the weapons,
the wars, the battlefields she had seen on television, the mechsuits, the
weapons she had learned to shoot, the classes with Randall, the power
Rigelus had fired down the hallway behind her...
He ended the memories at this point: before jumping through the Gate,
before leaving Hunt and Ruhn behind. She didn't want to relive that, nor
show what she could do and reveal the Horn or her ability to teleport.
Bryce opened his eyes. The ball remained silent and cloudy. She placed
her back on the floor and rolled her towards Rhysand.
He floated it on an invisible wind to his hand, then touched the
upside. And everything that was in her head started to pass.
It was even worse to watch it as some kind of puzzle of memories.
Seeing the violence, brutality and ease with which the Asteri and their
subordinates killed indiscriminately.
But what she felt was nothing compared to the surprise and terror on
each of their faces.
“Guns,” Bryce said, pointing to the rifle Randall fired at his memory being
broadcast, making the bullet perfectly hit the target half a mile away. —
Sulfur missiles. — She pointed to the golden blooming light of destruction as
the buildings of Lunathion crumbled around her. —
Omega boats. —SPQM Faustus hunted in the dark depths of the ocean.
— Asteri. — Rigelus' incandescent power caused stone, glass, and the
world itself to explode.
Rhysand's face went impassive again, the mask of
coldness returning to its place.
— You live in a world like that.
It wasn't really a question, but Bryce agreed.
- Yes.
— And they want to bring all of this... here.
- Yes.
Rhysand stared into space, thinking about everything he had seen.
Azriel continued to stare into the space where, minutes before, the sphere
had shown the great destruction of her world. He seemed apprehensive
and yet calculating. She had seen that look on Hunt's face before. The
mind of a warrior in action.
Then Amren turned to Rhys and they exchanged a look. Bryce knew
that expression too. A silent conversation was going on between the two.
How Bryce and Ruhn talked so much
times.
His heart sank when he saw the scene, when he remembered it. But,
at the same time, it made me stay focused.
The asteri were there; under another name, but they were. The
ancestors of these fae defeated them. And Urd had sent her there—there,
and not to Hell. There, where she found, at the same moment, the dagger
that attracted Aster. As if it were the magnet that drew her to this world,
this ravine. Could this be the knife of prophecy?
She had believed that destroying the asteri would be as easy as
extirpating that primalux core, and yet Urd had sent her here. To the
original world of the Midgardian fey. She had no other choice but to trust
Urd's reasoning. And pray that Ruhn, Hunt, and everyone else he loved
on Midgard could hold it together until he found a way to return home.
If I could find...
Bryce examined the smooth, shiny silver grain in his hand.
Amren said, without looking at her:
AND
— Just swallow and it will translate our mother tongue for you. AND
it will also allow you to speak it.
“How chic,” Bryce muttered.
She needed to find a way to get home. And if that meant getting to know
this world first... language skills would be useful, considering how much shit he
still had to say. And of course she didn't trust these people for a second, but if
she took into account the conversation they had, she highly doubted they would
try to poison her. Or that they were willing to do so, when cutting her throat
would be so much easier.
It wasn't the most comforting of ideas, but even so, Bryce put the silver grain
in his mouth, and with a lot of saliva he swallowed it.
He felt the cold metal on his tongue and throat, and he could have sworn he felt
it slide down to his stomach.
Lightning flashed in his brain. She was being split in two, her body couldn't
handle the searing light...
Then darkness overcame her. Silent, peaceful and eternal.

No... there was the room around her. She was on the floor, bent over her
knees and... glowing. The glow was bright enough to illuminate Rhysand and
Amren's shocked faces.
Azriel was already at the ready beside her, the lethal dagger
unsheathed and glowing with a strange black light.
He noticed the darkness emanating from the blade and blinked. Since
had arrived, Bryce hadn't seen him show such shock.
— Take it away, you idiot! — Amren scolded. — The dagger
attracts, and, when approaching it...
The blade disappeared from Azriel's hand, carried away by a shadow.
Silence, tense and charged, spread throughout the room.
Bryce stood up slowly, the way Randall and her mother had made her stand.
taught to move in front of vanir and other predators.
And as she stood up, she felt it in her brain: the knowledge of a language
she didn't know before. It was on the tip of her tongue, ready to be spoken, as
naturally as hers.
It shimmered on his skin, burning as it ran down his spine, across his shoulder
blades... wait a minute.
Oh no. No, no, no.

Bryce didn't dare touch the Horn tattoo, nor draw attention to the
letters that formed the words For love, anything is possible. He could feel
them reacting to whatever was in that spell that made her glow, and he
could only pray that the reaction wouldn't be visible.
His prayers were in vain.

Amren turned to Rhysand and said, in that strange new language,
their language, “Those
shiny letters tattooed on her back... are the same ones.
which are in the Book of Breaths.
They must have seen the words through the t-shirt as it lay on the
floor. With each breath, the tingling lessened, as if the glow was fading.
But the damage was already done.
They evaluated her once again. Three excellent assassins
contemplating a threat.
Finally Azriel said in a soft, threatening voice: —
Explain yourself or you will die.
Tharion's blood dripped into the porcelain sink of the silent, dank
bathroom. The roars of the crowd resounded distantly through the cracked
green tiles. He inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth.
Pain spread through his bruised ribs.
Stand up.
He grabbed the cracked edges of the sink. He took another deep
breath, focusing on the words and fighting to keep his knees from giving out.
Stand up, damn you. I had taken a beating today.
The minotaur he had just faced in the Viper Queen's ring was twice
his weight and at least four feet taller. Tharion had a hole in his shoulder
from which blood gushed into the sink drain, thanks to the horns that he
was not fast enough to dodge. In addition to many broken ribs due to the
punches he received from fists the size of his head.
Tharion breathed again, grimacing through the pain, and grabbed the
small first-aid kit from the sink. His fingers trembled and he fumbled with
the bottle of potion needed to alleviate the pain and accelerate the healing
that his Vanir body was already processing.
He tossed the cork into the trash can next to the sink, on top of the
wad of bloody cotton bandages and handkerchiefs that had been left behind.
used to clean his face. Somehow, being able to see her face and the
male beneath was more important than dealing with the pain—and
the hole in her shoulder.
His reflection was not pleasant. The bruises under his eyes
matched the bruises along his jaw, there were cuts in his mouth, and
his nose was swollen. All of it would disappear and be healed quickly,
but the emptiness in his eyes…it was his face, and yet it was the face
of a stranger.
Tharion didn't look at his own eyes in the mirror as he tilted the
flask and swallowed it all at once. A light, tasteless liquid filled his
mouth and throat. He had already taken shots like that. In a matter of
a few weeks, everything had gone wrong. His whole damn life had
gone wrong.
He had given up everything he was, what he once was and what
he could be.
He had chosen to be stuck with the Viper Queen. He was
desperate, but the weight of his decision suffocated him. He had
arrived two days ago and hadn't been allowed to leave the maze of
warehouses—not that he wanted to, anyway. They had even taken
care of his need to get back into the water: a special bathtub had
been set up downstairs, with water pumped directly from Istros.
Therefore, it had been days since I had been to the river or felt
the wind and sun or heard the usual conversations and noises of
normal life. I hadn't even found a window to the outside.
The door opened and a familiar feminine scent gave away the
newcomer's identity. As if at this hour, in this bathroom, it could be
anyone else.
The Viper Queen had a team of fighters. But those two... for the
past few days, she had treated them like prized racehorses. They
fought in prime time, and this bathroom was for private use, as was
the suite upstairs.
The Viper Queen owned them, and she wanted everyone to know
it.
— They're already waiting for you — Tharion's voice was hoarse
and he spoke over his shoulder to Ariadne. The haired dragon
dark clothes, dressed in a black outfit that accentuated her lush curves, turned
to him.
Tharion and Ariadne must always look sensual and stylish, even when
Queen Viper ordered them to bleed to amuse the audience.
Ariadne stopped in front of a sink a few meters away,

examining his own face in the mirror while washing his hands.
— Still beautiful as always — teased Tharion.
The joke made the dragon watch him from the corner of her eyes.
— You look terrible.

“Always good to see you too,” he said slowly, the
healing tingling through your body.
Her nostrils flared a little. It wasn't wise to pick on a dragoness, but he
seemed to be making one stupid decision after another lately, so why stop
now?
“There's a hole in your shoulder,” she said, without looking away from his.
Tharion glanced at the wound, still frightening even as the skin began to
close—the sensation was similar to spiders crawling through the area.
— It will make me stronger.

Ariadne laughed ironically, looking back at her own reflection.
— You know, you like showing off to the females. I'm starting to think it's
some kind of shield.
He stiffened.
—Against what?
— I don't know and I don't care.
— Eat.
Ariadne continued to observe herself in the mirror. Was she looking for
herself too? Or looking for who you were before you ended up there? Or
perhaps looking for who she was before the Astronomer trapped her in a ring
and wore her on his finger for decades?
Tharion had done what the Viper Queen had requested regarding Ari: he
had woven a web of lies to his Aux contacts about the dragon being
requisitioned for security reasons. Then,
Technically, Ari was not a slave of the Viper Queen.

She continued to be someone else's slave. She just... lived there now.
“Your rapt audience is waiting,” Tharion said, as he took another cotton

handkerchief and held it under the running tap before wiping the blood from
his bare chest. He could take a shower in one of the showers to his left, but it
would hurt like hell on his still healing wounds. He rolled over, struggling to
clean the particularly nasty cut along his left shoulder blade. He couldn't reach
it, even with his long fingers.
— Give it to me — ordered Ariadne, taking the handkerchief from his hand.

— Thank you, Ar... Ariadne. — He had almost called her Ari, but it didn't
seem wise to contradict her right after she offered to help.
Tharion gripped the sink with his hands. Ariadne patted the wound, wiping
away the blood, and he gripped the porcelain hard enough to make it creak
under his fingers. She locked her jaw to withstand the burn and, amidst the
silence, the dragon said:
— You can call me Ari.
— I thought you hated that nickname.
—It seems like everyone wants to use it, so it might as well be
It's my decision to let you call me that too.
—Was that your reasoning when you abandoned my friends just before a
death hunter attacked them? — He couldn't suppress the hurt in his voice, and
damn the idea of not contradicting her. — Everyone expected the worst from
you, so why go against that expectation?
She snorted.
— Your friends... you mean the witch and the redhead?
— Yes. Very noble of you to let go of them both.
— They seemed capable of taking care of themselves.
- And they are. But you left anyway.
— If you care so much about their safety, then maybe you should be there.
— Ari threw the tissue in the trash and picked up another one. — By the way,
who did you learn to fight from?
He left the argument aside; they wouldn't get anywhere. He didn't even
know why he felt like talking about it at that moment, out of so many
opportunities.
— And I thought you didn't care about me.
— Let's say it's curiosity. You don't look... seriously
enough to be the Queen of Rio's Intelligence Captain.
— What a compliment.
But embers glowed in her eyes, so Tharion shrugged.
— I learned to fight the conventional way: I attended the Blue Court

Military Academy after graduating, and since then, I've spent my years
perfecting those skills. Nothing else. And you?
— Survival.
He opened his mouth to respond, but the dragon turned and walked away.
towards the exit, with the heels of his boots clicking on the floor.
— Ari... — He called before she could get to the door.
— It wasn't true, you know?
She turned around, her eyebrows raised.
- What?
— That we expected the worst from you.
Her face contorted—anger, grief, and a hint of shame.
Or maybe he was imagining that last part. She stomped away without
responding.
The only sound in the bathroom was again that of his blood dripping.
Tharion waited until the potion had healed most of the holes in his skin,
and didn't bother adjusting the top of his black jumpsuit before following the
dragon back into the heat, smells, and lights of the fighting ring. .
Ari was just getting started. With impressive calm, she assumed a
defensive stance against three male lion shifters, the enormous felines circling
her with lethal concentration. She turned towards them, without allowing the
lions to come to her rear; the scales on his skin were starting to glow and his
black eyes turned red.
Across the pit, the mirrored window overlooking the ring reflected only the
blinding spotlights. But Tharion knew who
he was on the other side, amidst the luxurious attire of his private quarters;
who watched the dragon fight, evaluating the intensity of the crowd's roar.
“Traitor,” shouted someone to his left.

Tharion saw two young merfolk looking at him from the stands above. The
two were holding beers and had the glazed look of someone who had already
spilled a few.
Tharion waved nonchalantly at them and looked back at the ring.
“Fucking loser,” barked the other male.

Tharion continued looking at Ari. Steam came out of the dragon's mouth.
One of the lions lunged forward, slashing with fingers that ended in curved
claws, but she dodged. The concrete floor scorched where his feet had stood.
Preliminary signs of an attack.
— What a shitty captain — provoked the first male.

Tharion gritted his teeth. It wasn't the first time in the last few days that
one of his own had recognized him and felt the need to say exactly what they
thought of him. Everyone knew that Tharion had defected from the Blue Court.
Everyone knew he had deserted and ended up there to serve the depraved
ruler of the Meat Market. The Queen of Rio and her daughter made sure the
news spread.
Captain Whatever, Ithan Holstrom had once called him.

It seemed that he had now truly assumed this role.
You gave that up, he remembered. I could never even set foot on Istros
again. Once he did, his former queen would kill him. Or he would order one of
his sobeks to make mincemeat of him.
Something twisted in his stomach.
He knew that his parents were alive only because he received messages
expressing their anger and disappointment. We have already lost a son, the
mother had written. And now we've lost another. Deserter, Tharion? In the
depths of Ogenas, what were you thinking?
He did not answer. He didn't apologize for being so irresponsible and
selfish that he didn't think about their safety before committing to such an
absurdity. He had not only provided
oath to the Viper Queen, but he had also pledged himself to her.
And after all the shit that happened in Pangera...nowhere else was safe for
him, anyway. Only here, where the Viper Queen had been allowed to rule.
He watched Ari walk around the ring. You gave that up, he told himself
again, more firmly. To be here.
- You are a shame! — the other merman shouted.
A foamy liquid splashed onto his head and bare shoulders.
Tharion. The son of a bitch threw the beer at him.
Tharion growled at them, and the males had the good sense to take a
step back, as if they had just remembered what Tharion was capable of
when provoked. But before he could finish them off, one of the Viper
Queen's personal guards, one of those glassy-eyed fae deserters, said,
"Hey, big fish." The boss wants to talk to you. Now.
Tharion stiffened, but he had no other choice. The tightness in his belly
would only get worse as long as he resisted, it was better to get it over with.
So he left those assholes behind. He left Ari with the lions, who would
be fried in about twenty minutes, or after the dragon put on a show good
enough to please the crowd and got it over with, which he could have done
without even entering the ring.
He had no doubt that there would be some vendor waiting in the wings
to collect the fried carcasses and sell them at a nearby food stall. It wasn't
for nothing that the place was called Mercado da Carne.
The walk up the stairs to the room behind that mirrored window was
long and silent. He wished his mind worked like that too, so he didn't care.
It was easier said than done, when everything kept going in circles: the
attempted attack on the laboratory, Cormac's death... they were all so
stupid, thinking they could face the asteri. And then there he was.
To be honest, he had been leaning in that direction for some time.

Starting with the fiasco with the daughter of the Queen of Rio; afterwards, the
Lesia's death a year ago. That last month had just been the result of all
that shit. How pathetic he had always been, a failure, beneath appearances.
Tharion knocked once on the wooden door and entered.

The Viper Queen was standing by the window, looking out at the
arena, where Ari had begun to mock the lions. Now, they were desperate
to escape. Wherever the cats went to escape the ring, a wall of flames
blocked the exit.
— She has a gift as an artist — The Viper Queen observed without
turning around. The ruler of the Meat Market was wearing a short white
silk jumpsuit, fitted to her slender body, and was barefoot. He was holding
a cigarette, his nails were manicured. — You could learn from her.
Tharion leaned against the wooden

doorframe. — Is it an order or a suggestion?
The Viper Queen turned, her shiny dark hair bouncing. The mouth
wore its usual dark purple lipstick, contrasting with the snake shapeshifter's
pale skin.
—Do you know what I had to do to get that Minotaur
Who did you fight today?
Tharion kept his mouth shut. How many times had he stood like this
in front of the River Queen, silent while she blasted him? I had already
lost count a long time ago.
The Viper Queen's teeth flashed, fangs delicate and striking against
the purple of her mouth.
—Five minutes, Tharion? — His voice in a dangerous purr. — So
much effort on my part, and all I get in return, all my audience gets in
return, is a five-minute fight?
Tharion pointed to his shoulder.

— I thought sticking the horn in me and dragging me around the ring would already
it was a good show.
— I wish I had seen this many more times, instead of seeing you
break the bull's neck in a fit of rage.
She crooked a finger. The tightness in his stomach deepened.
As if they had a mind of their own, his feet and legs
moved. They carried him to the window, next to her.

He hated that... Not the part about being summoned, but the fact that he
couldn't resist anymore.
— To make up for the fact that you finished faster than you should have
— said the Viper Queen, slowly — I asked Ari to stall in her fight. — She tilted
her head toward the ring. Ari's face was blank and cold as she made the lions
scream under her flames.
Tharion's stomach dropped. It was no wonder Ari hadn't stayed long to talk
to him. But she had helped him anyway, and he had no idea how to interpret
that.
“Try a little harder next time,” the Viper Queen hissed in his ear, her lips
brushing his skin. She sniffed. — Those damn mermen really soaked you.
Tharion walked away.

— Did you call me here for some reason? — He wanted one
bath and the relaxation that only sleep could offer you.
She smiled and pulled back the immaculate sleeve of her jumpsuit,
exposing her moon-pale wrist.
— Considering that you didn't dedicate yourself at all to your
presentation, I thought maybe I needed a pick-me-up.
Tharion gritted his teeth. He was not a slave; despite having been stupid
and desperate enough to offer himself as such.
But instead, her offering was something almost as bad: the poison that only
she produced.
And now, after tasting it once... his mouth filled with saliva.
The smell of the skin, the blood and the poison down there—he was helpless
before her, a fucking starving animal.
“Maybe if I offered some of this before your fights,” she mused, her arm
outstretched to him like a private banquet.
—, you have a little more... vigor.
With what little resistance he still had, Tharion raised his eyes to meet
hers. He let her see how much he hated this, hated her, hated himself.
She smiled. And he knew. She knew the moment he deserted and came
to her, to this life. He told himself that this was a refuge,
but it was getting harder and harder to hide than to actually hide
treated.
A punishment that should have happened a long time ago.
The Viper Queen slid one of her gold-painted fingernails across her wrist. He opened
a vein in which that milky, opalescent poison stirred, the poison that made him see the
gods.
— Come on — she insisted, and Tharion wanted to scream, cry and run as he took
her arm to his mouth and sucked out a mouthful of poison.
It was beautiful. It was horrible. And it hit right away. Stars shone in the air and
time slowed to a languid, dense rhythm; the exhaustion and pain disappeared.
He had heard the rumors long before he got there: her poison was the best high an
immortal would feel in his life. After tasting it, there was no way to disagree. She didn't
blame the fae deserters who served as her bodyguards in exchange for some of that.
Before, I felt sorry for them, I despised them.

Now, he was one of them.
The Viper Queen's hand moved up his chest to his neck, smoothing the area where
his gills usually showed. She applied her painted nails to the spot, in an absolute display
of ownership. Not just his body, but who he was, who he once was.
She squeezed his throat. This time, it was an invitation.

The Viper Queen's mouth brushed his ear as she
whispered:
— Let's see what kind of stamina you have now, Tharion.
***
— We can't just leave Tharion here.

—Believe me, Holstrom, Captain Whatever
can take care of himself.
Ithan frowned at Tristan Flynn across the rickety table. Declan Emmet and his
boyfriend, Marc, were talking to a vendor at one of the many stalls at the Mercado da
Meat. The owl-headed Vanir was the third person they spoke to that
night, hoping to get news of their missing friends. He was the twelfth
vagrant they had contacted in the last two days.
And Ithan was getting so tired of this useless talk that he started
mocking Flynn: — Is that
what fae do? They abandon their friends
Suffering?
— Fuck you, wolf — complained Flynn, but without taking his eyes
off where Declan and Marc were putting their charm to the test. Even
Flynn, who used to be unflappable, now had deep circles under his
eyes and had barely smiled in the last few days. He seemed to be
getting as little sleep as Ithan.
Despite everything, Ithan aimed straight for the
jugular: — So Ruhn's life is more important than...
— Ruhn is in a fucking dungeon being tortured by the asteri — shot
Flynn. — Tharion is here because he defected. He chose this life.
—Technically, Ruhn also chose to go to the Eternal City...
Flynn ran his hands through his brown hair.

— If you're just going to complain, then get out of here.
- I'm not complaining. I'm just saying we have a friend who's literally
in trouble right over there and we're not even trying to help. — Ithan
pointed to the second floor of the massive warehouse, the
indistinguishable door that led to the Viper Queen's private quarters.
— Again, Ketos has defected. We can't do much.

— He was desperate...
“We're all fucking desperate,” Flynn muttered, looking at a male
draki carrying a bag of something that smelled like elk meat. He sighed.
— Seriously, Holstrom... go home. Go get some rest.
Again, Ithan noticed the fae lord's exhausted expression.

“And take that one with you,” Flynn added, nodding toward the
female sitting upright at a table.
close, vigilant and tense. The three fire elves were lying down, hanging
around her shoulders, dozing.
Right. Ithan's other frustration in the last few days: giving a
Sigrid Fendyr's nanny.
It would have been better to leave her at the fae males' home—which he
now assumed was also her home—but she refused and insisted on
accompanying them.
Just as Sigrid insisted on seeing and knowing everything. If he thought
she would break out of her mystical tank and cower, he thought wrong.
She was nothing more than a nosy on those two days, wanting to know the
whole story of the Fendyr, their enemies, Ithan's enemies... anything and
everything that had happened while she was the Astronomer's prisoner.
He hadn't talked much about his own past; not even a word about her
father, whose story she didn't know until Ithan told her. Long ago, the male
had been the Presumed Cousin, until his sister, Sabine, challenged him and
won. Ithan thought she had murdered him, but apparently she chose to exile
Sigrid's father, and that's where she was born. Everything else about the
story was a complete mystery.
A part of Ithan didn't want to know what circumstances had been so dire as
to make a Fendyr sell his heiress—sell an alpha—to the Astronomer.
The heiress was just sitting quietly at that moment because, as soon as
she stepped into the Meat Market, she said, with contempt: Who would want
to shop in a disgusting place like this? This made Declan and Marc's job a
thousand times more difficult because it provoked the wrath of every
salesperson who heard it.
The gossipers made sure everyone else knew too.
Then Flynn ordered her to sit down alone. Well, alone except for her little
hot-headed entourage. Wherever Sigrid went, the pixies went with her.
Ithan didn't know if that bond was the result of years in the tank, a shared
trauma, or if it was just because they were females living together in a house
full of males, but the four of them together were pure pain. AND
— It's too dangerous for her to be exposed here — he continued.

Flynn — anyone can tell you they saw her.
— Nobody knows who she is. To these people, she's just any wolf.
— Yes, and all it takes is for someone to mention to Amelie or Sabine that
you have a wolf with you and they'll know. I can't believe they haven't come
running yet.
— Sabine is cruel, but she is not stupid. There was no way to start a riot in
the Viper Queen's territory.
— No, she will wait for us to cross the DCC and set up an ambush for us.
— The angels had long ignored anything that happened in the streets of their
district, more concerned with the comings and goings in their gigantic towers.
Ithan stared at the male. Most of the time he got along well with Flynn; I
even liked him. But since the disappearance of Ruhn, Hunt and Bryce...
Disappearance wasn't the right word, at least in the case of Ruhn and Hunt.
They were imprisoned, and Bryce... no one knew what happened to her. And
that's why they were there, looking for any information they could get, as
searches on Declan's computer turned up nothing.
Any information they could have about Bryce, Ruhn, Athalar... they were
desperate. They wanted direction, a spark that would light the way. Anything
was better than sitting around doing nothing, knowing nothing.
Ithan looked at the chair he was in. He was sitting there,

Nothing to do. Without knowing anything.
Before the disgust could take over, he got up and walked over to Sigrid,
who was sitting monitoring the customers at the Meat Market. She looked at
him with brown eyes full of irritation and disdain.
— This place is really bad.
Don't tell me, he wanted to say, but stopped himself.
“Sometimes it's useful,” he declared.
The home of the fae males was the only place he could think of to take the
she-wolf when he snatched her from the Astronomer's tank.
So he stood there while Flynn and Declan pretended everything was fine.
normal in the world. While they continued to work for the Aux, Prince
Ruhn's absence was excused as a long-needed vacation.
Ithan was waiting for the soldiers to appear. Or assassins, sent

either by the asteri, by Sabine or by the Astronomer.
Still, no one asked anything. No interrogations. No arrests. The

Autumn King didn't even interrogate Flynn and Dec, despite
undoubtedly knowing something had happened to his son. And that
wherever Ruhn went, his two best friends went with him.
People had no idea what had happened in the Eternal City. It was
true that Ithan and the fey warriors didn't know much either, but they
were aware that their friends had entered the Asteri fortress and never
left.
The Asteri, the other powers involved... they knew that Ithan and the
others were also in the game, even if they weren't present. And yet
they didn't punish them.
It wasn't a comforting thought.
Sigrid tilted her head, with wolfish curiosity.
- You come here often?
Normally, he would have made a little joke involving pickup lines,
but Sigrid didn't have and didn't care about a sense of humor. You
couldn't blame her, not after everything she had been through. Then
Ithan replied: —
When my work for the Aux or my pack requires it. But
This is rare, thank goodness.
She pursed her lips.
— The Astronomer frequented this place. — Ithan remembered
that, on the day he returned to the Astronomer's house to free her,
the old man had been there buying some items for her tank.
— Do you know who he sponsors here? asked Ithan. It was
more of a casual question than anything else.
Sigrid looked around. He had no doubt that if he were in his wolf
form, his ears would be darting from side to side to pick up any sound.
She replied without looking away from the busy market:
— I once heard a satyr say that he sells salt and other things.
Ithan looked at the balcony, at the closed green door where the satyr
lived. He knew exactly who she was talking about, thanks to all those visits
he had made in the past, on behalf of Aux. The bum did all kinds of
smuggling.
Sigrid noticed where Ithan's attention had gone and looked in the same
direction as him.
— Does he live there?
Ithan nodded slowly.

Sigrid stood up quickly, her eyes shining with predatory determination.
- Where are you going? — asked Ithan, entering in front of her.

The elves woke up from their nap, holding on to their long
Sigrid's brown hair so it doesn't fall off her shoulders.
— Is it over yet? asked Malana, yawning.
— We're bored to death — agreed Sasa, stretching her robust body
against Sigrid's neck. Rithi, the third sister, murmured in agreement.
Sigrid ignored the goblins, her teeth flashing as she glared at Ithan.
— I want to know why this satyr thinks it's cool to serve people like
Astrôn...
— We didn't come here looking for trouble — Ithan said, without moving
out of her way.
But she sidestepped him, stomping like a true Fendyr, a force of nature
—one he was just beginning to see blossom.
Despite her noble lineage, Ithan held her arm.

“Don't go there,” he protested, his voice soft, his fingers wrapped
around her bony arm.
She looked at his hand, then his face. His expression was filled with
anger.
- Or what?
The coldness of an alpha resonated in her voice. Ithan's very bones
cried out for him to subdue, to bend, to get out of the way.
But he fought that urge, ignored it. He faced the wolf with his own authority.
The Fendyr may have been alphas for generations, but the Holstroms were
not submissive. They were also alphas—leaders and warriors in their own
right.
It seems like he would let this female boss him around, whether she was
a Fendyr or not.
Flynn's chair scraped on the floor, but Ithan didn't take his eyes off it.
of Sigrid as the fae male advanced towards them and protested:
— What the fuck is your problem? Go growl at each other somewhere
else that doesn't attract everyone's attention at the Meat Market, dammit.
Ithan put his teeth out. She growled back.

He said to Flynn, still without taking his eyes off Sigrid: —
She wants to go and confront the salt dealer because of his business with
the Astronomer. The satyr who got into all that trouble last year.
Flynn sighed at the wooden ceiling.

— Now is not the time to be arrogant and look for trouble, dear.
Sigrid finally looked away from Ithan, although her wolf side knew that this
was not an admission of defeat in the contest of wills between the two. No. It
was because she had found another opponent to face.
— Don't talk to me as if I were any female — Sigrid snapped at Flynn, who

raised his hands. She looked back at Ithan. — I have every right to...
“You have no rights,” said a male voice behind her.

Mark. The leopard shifter had approached with unearthly elegance. Despite
being dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, the male still had a certain
air of courteous professionalism. — Since, technically, you don't even exist.
For all intents and purposes, you are a ghost.

Sigrid turned slowly, her lips pursing.
— Did I ask for your opinion, cat?
Normally, Ithan would be happy to get involved in shapeshifter rivalries,
but Marc was a good male, her disdain
it was very poorly directed. Declan stood next to his boyfriend and placed an arm
on his broad shoulders.
— I think it's past time for someone to go to sleep.
Sigrid growled. But the goblins slid from his shoulders to
float in front of her face, and Sasa said, cautiously:
— Siggy, we're here to... do other things. Maybe we
can come back another day.
Ithan almost laughed when he heard the nickname. Someone as intense as
the female in front of him shouldn't be called Siggy.
—The next time they let us out of the house — Sigrid protested, furiously — it
will be in days or weeks.
— I must remind you — said Declan, slowly — that you are currently Sabine's
number one enemy.
— Let her come after me — Sigrid replied, without hesitating for a second. —
I have scores to settle.
— May Luna keep me — murmured Flynn. Ithan could have sworn she saw
the elves nodding as they settled back onto her shoulders. The fae lord turned to
Declan and Marc. - Any news?
The couple shook their heads.

— No. It really seems that the asteri kept all the information under lock and
key. There, nothing goes in and nothing comes out. — Silence dominated, heavy
and tense.
It was Sigrid who said: —
And what do we do now?
He had only been out of the tank for two days and was already taking on the
role of leader, whether he realized it or not. A true alpha, waiting for people to
respond to her... and obey her.
“We need to keep trying and figure out what's going on,” Declan said,
shrugging.
Flynn took a deep, exasperated breath and threw himself back into his chair.
— We haven't made any progress in the last two days. Ruhn and Athalar are
being held as traitors. That's all we know. — That's what Marc's informant inside
the Eternal City managed to find out. Nothing but.
Declan sank into his chair and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and pad.
indicator.
— Are you honest? We were lucky not to end up in those dungeons
either.
“We need to get them out of there,” Flynn said, crossing his arms.
muscular. On his left shoulder, Rithi imitated the gesture.
“Only Urd knows what state they are in now,” said Declan,
desolate. — We probably need medwitches around.
— You have healing magic — countered Flynn.
“Yes,” Dec said, shaking his head, “but the types of injuries they would
have... I would need to work with a team of trained professionals.
The thought of injuries that required a team of medwitches made them

silent again. A kind of charged and miserable silence.
— And where would we go after rescuing them? There is no one on

Midgard who can hide or shelter us,” Declan considered, raising his head.
— And that merman ship? — Flynn suggested. —The one who caught
them in Ydra. It was faster than the omega boats and seems pretty good
at hiding from the asteri too.
“Flynn,” warned Marc, looking at the crowded market. Full
with attentive ears.
Ithan kept his voice low.
— Tharion could take us to that ship.
He expected Flynn to roll his eyes at the mention of Ketos' help, but
the male just looked up at the second floor.
— He can't leave this market.
None of them had seen or heard from the merman since he left for
Pangera. But they learned of his whereabouts thanks to a piece of neon
green paper stuck to a lamp post, announcing the next fight that would
take place in the Viper Queen's ring, with Tharion as the main attraction. It
was quite evident what had happened: the defector male left the Blue
Court straight there.
Ithan argued:
— Then we can ask Tharion how to get in touch

with them.
Declan shook his head.
— And what do we do next? Are we going to live in the ocean forever?
Ithan squirmed; the wolf in him would lose his head. Unable to run at
will, to respond when the moon called him...
“She lived in a tank for who knows how long,” Flynn commented, his
gaze on Sigrid. — I think we managed to stay in a comfortable submarine,
which looks like a city.
Sigrid shivered...a crack in her arrogant facade.
“Careful,” Ithan warned Flynn.
The elves murmured, comforting Sigrid; its flames were an intense red.
But Sigrid got up silently and went to an opal seller nearby. Her clothes, the
sweatshirt and pants that Ithan had given her, were loose on her thin body,
swaying with each step.
“You need to remind her to shower,” Dec said softly, his eyes shining
with concern.
She didn't know what shampoo was. Or soap. Or conditioner.
He didn't even know what a shower was, and he refused to step under the
spray of water until Ithan did it first, fully clothed, to demonstrate that it was
safe. Which was not a different version of the tank.
She had also never slept in a real bed. Or

At least he didn't remember.
“Okay,” Declan said, turning his attention back to the problem at hand.
— You can already see that we won't find out anything by asking around,
but let's think a little...
Ruhn has to be alive. The Asteri wouldn't kill him right away... he has a lot
of political importance.
— Yes, then let's rescue him before it's too late. —
Flynn pressed. — Him and Athalar.
— But what about Bryce? asked Declan, his voice so soft it was barely clear.
it was more than a whisper.
“She left,” Flynn replied firmly. — Who knows where.
Ithan didn't like that tone at all.

- What? Do you think Bryce would leave like that? — he questioned. —
Do you think that, of her own free will, she would leave Ruhn and Hunt in
the hands of the Asteri? So as to.
Flynn leaned back in his chair.
— Do you have a best guess as to where she might be?
Ithan controlled the urge to strike the fae lord in the throat. Flynn was
angry and hurt and scared, and Ithan tried to remember that.
— Bryce doesn't give up on the people he loves. If she went somewhere

place, it's because it was important.
"It doesn't make any difference where she went," Flynn replied. - I just know
that we need to get Ruhn out of there before it's too late.
Ithan looked up at the second floor again, his soleball player side
calculating, thinking ahead...
Dec grabbed Flynn's shoulder, squeezing tightly.
— Look, the merman ship isn't a bad idea, but we need to think long
term. And we also need to take our families into consideration.
“For all I care, my parents and sister can go to Hell,” Flynn said.
— Well, I want my family to be safe — Declan replied. — If we're going

to rescue Ruhn and Athalar, we need to make sure no one else gets caught
in the crossfire.
Dec looked at Ithan, who shrugged. He had no one else to warn. Would
anyone miss him if he were gone?
His only duty was to protect the wolf in the tent in front of him. Out of some
silly hope that she might… he had no idea.
Challenge and defeat Sabine? Stop Sabine from continuing to guide the
wolves down that dangerous path? Fill the void that Danika left?
She was like a powder keg. An alpha, yes, but without training. I couldn't
control my impulses, which were too unpredictable most of the time. Little
by little, she could
learn the necessary skills, but time was not our greatest ally at that moment.
Then Ithan said:

—Do you want to save Ruhn and Athalar? The merman ship is the only way to
cross the ocean without being noticed. Maybe the sea creatures know how we can
free them. They might even help us, if we're lucky. — He pointed to the second floor.
— Tharion is our connection to them.
“Very convenient,” said Flynn, “since you were insisting that we release him just
now.”
— Two birds with one stone.
— Tharion can't leave — Marc reflected — but nothing stops him from talking to
us. Maybe he can give us some
contacts.
“There's only one way to find out,” Ithan said.
Flynn sighed, and Ithan took that as agreement.
— Someone needs to send her home. — He pointed to Sigrid over his shoulder.
“And accompany her,” added Dec.

- I am not! — Flynn and Ithan said at the same time.
Dec turned his head to Marc and exclaimed “Not me!” before the leopard could
understand what was happening.
Marc rubbed his temples.
— Someone explain to me how it is possible that the three of you are
considered some of the most feared warriors in this city?
Dec responded by kissing him on the cheek.
Marc sighed.
— If I have to take Siggy home, then Holstrom has to break the news to her.
Ithan opened his mouth, but... that's okay. Smirking at the males, he went to get
the alpha. And spare the opal seller his endless questions.
How do you know they bring luck, love or joy? What do colors have to do with all
this? What evidence do you have that this works?
He couldn't say whether this need to question everything and everyone was pure
curiosity, the result of having spent years in prison.
in that tank or just the alpha stance. She needed to put the world in
order.
Ithan grabbed Sigrid's elbow to indicate he was nearby, but she
started again. Ithan took a step back, hands in the air as the opal
seller watched everything intently.
- Sorry.
She didn't like being touched. She only allowed him to touch her
to wash her hair the first night, when she had no idea what she should
do.
Ithan gestured for her to go back to where the males were, and
she walked beside him, some distance away. Most wolves needed
touch—craved it. Had that instinct been stolen from her after so many
years in the tank?
When I thought about it, it was harder to be angry with her.
— How do I get used to this? — asked Sigrid amidst the sizzling
of the meat being fried and the customers' conversations.
Behind her, the goblins were still hovering near the collection of opals,
commenting on the stones. He couldn't understand how the three
elves had adapted so quickly to this strange and large world. They
were also prisoners of the Astronomer, trapped in his rings.
Ithan asked: —
Get used to what?
Sigrid looked at her hands, her thin body beneath her hoodie.
Shoppers who passed by and noticed the wolf — and him — stayed
away.
— The feeling of being trapped in a decomposing corpse.
He blinked.
— I, ah... — He couldn't imagine himself in her place, suddenly a
body of flesh, blood and bones after years floating in the isolation
tank. — You need to give it time.
She looked down. It didn't seem like the answer I wanted to hear.
“Sigrid,” he said again, “you… you're doing great.
— Why do you keep calling me that? she asked.
— It was the name Sasa chose for you — replied Ithan, with a pleasant
smile.
— Why do I need a name? I lived a long time without having one.
— An alpha needs a name. A person needs a name. The Astronomer let
you make the Descent... you'll stay alive for centuries.
After being pressed, she revealed that she was somehow making the
Descent into the isolation tank; I couldn't say when or how.
But he was relieved to hear that she was protected.
— I don't want to talk about the Descent. — Her voice sounded monotonous,
without intonation.
- Me either. — He would like to know what her experience was like, but
not there. Not when they had gotten close to the three males who were
waiting for them. The goblins finally emerged from the depths of the opal tent
and approached quickly, like three columns of fire burning through the dry
warehouse.
— So we go there and knock? asked Flynn, pointing to the metal, vault-
like door at the top of the stairs.
It was the entrance to the Viper Queen's private quarters.
Marc looked into Ithan's eyes. Had he explained to Sigrid that Marc would
walk her home?
Ithan withdrew. No, there wasn't.
Marc glared at him. Coward, the leopard's gaze seemed to say. But he
tensed, paralyzed.
— Stay still.
The others obeyed, the two fae males reaching for their weapons at their
sides. The movement at the Meat Market continued, with people unconcerned,
selling, negotiating and cooking. Even so...
Marc's brown eyes scanned the warehouse and the

skylights. He sniffed.
Ithan did the same. As they were shapeshifters, their senses were
sharper than those of the fae.
From the door behind them came a mixture of odors that came from the
night, the stench of the sewers and...
The smell of approaching wolves.
“I don't know what language the tattoo is in,” Bryce insisted. — My friend did it
when I was blacked out...
— Don't lie — warned Rhysand in a soft threat. He would kill her. Whatever
the language was, it was apparently so bad that the tattoo seemed to say stick
the knife here.
Amren walked over to Bryce, looking at the tattoo that, without shadow
of doubts, it still shone behind the fabric of his white shirt.
— I feel something in those lyrics... — Bryce tensed. — Go get Nesta.
Azriel murmurou.
—Cassian won't like this.
— Cassian can handle it. Nesta will be able to feel this better than I can.
Bryce turned around, looking back at Amren and Azriel.

Then Amren insisted: —
Go get her, Rhysand.
Bryce bent his knees, taking a defensive stance. Would that hurt too much?
Would there be any chance of...
Rhysand disappeared again.
Before Bryce had fully risen to his feet, he returned, with a familiar golden-
brown-haired female in tow. Like this
In the lobby, the female was wearing dark leather similar to Azriel and
Rhys's, and she stood there, serene and cold. A warrior.
His blue-gray gaze slid to Bryce, who slowly sank back into the chair,
almost numb. Whatever was in those eyes...
The female said softly to the others, in a monotonous voice, almost

bored: — I've said
it before: there's something Done in her. In addition to the sword he
carried.
— Done? — Bryce repeated, leaving all his caution aside,
addressing the newcomer, who he could only assume was Nesta.
At the same time, Amren pointed to Bryce's back and asked, "Is that the
tattoo?"
Nesta simply replied: — Yes.
They all stared at Bryce once again, with unreadable expressions. Who
would attack first? Four against one... she wouldn't get out of there alive.
Amren said to Rhysand calmly: —

You decide what to do with her.
Bryce clenched his jaw. Even if he had no chance of winning, he would
fall to Hell without a fight. I would fight in every way I could...
Nesta lifted her chin at Bryce, cool and haughty.

— You can face us... but you will lose.
Fuck it. Bryce continued to stare at the female, finding
a steely determination in the gleam of her eyes.
— If you try to touch that tattoo, you'll find out why the asteri want my
death so much.
She regretted that answer instantly. Azriel's hand went towards the
dagger at his side, but Nesta just stepped closer, unimpressed or intimidated.
- What is that? Nesta asked Bryce, pointing to her back. — How can
some words written on your skin be... Made?
— I can't answer the question if you don't tell me what the fuck it means
to be Made.
— Don't tell her anything. — warned Amren. She pointed to the door.
— You've already done your job and told us what we needed to know.
See you later.
Nesta's eyebrows rose as she realized she was
being dismissed. But she looked at Bryce and smiled sharply. — It's
better to cooperate, believe me.
“That's what they told me,” Bryce replied, clenching his fists at the side
of his chair. She tucked her hands under her thighs to keep from doing
anything stupid.
Nesta's eyes sparkled with amusement as she registered the movement.
— Wow... visitor needs to rest — announced Rhysand, walking

elegantly to the door. Upon receiving the order, Amren and Azriel went
after him, Nesta followed them after spending a few more moments staring
at Bryce with a mocking and challenging look.
But when Azriel arrived at the door, Bryce spoke in a burst
for the winged warrior:
— The sword... where is it?
Azriel stopped and looked over his shoulder.
— In a safe place.
Bryce stared at Azriel, the coldness returned in kind—with that
expression that she knew Ruhn had always found very similar to their
father's. The face she rarely let the world see.
—The sword is mine. I want her back.

Azriel's mouth curved slightly into a half smile.
—Then give us one good reason to return it to you.
***
The time has passed. Trays of simple food appeared from time to time:
bread, beef stew—or what she assumed was beef stew—hard cheese.
Foods similar to those of
House.
Even the herbs were similar. Had the fae of this world taken them to Midgard?
Or are plants like thyme and rosemary somehow universal? Existing throughout
space?
Or perhaps the Asteri brought these herbs of their own
home world and planted them on all the planets they conquered.
She knew it was silly to think about that kind of thing, that she had much bigger
concerns than an intergalactic vegetable garden. But he soon lost interest in eating,
and thinking about everything else was... too much.
No one else came to visit her. Bryce entertained himself by tossing peas from
the stew through the grate, counting the seconds until he heard the soft chirp, and
then the hisses and roars of whatever was lurking below.
She didn't want to know. His imagination thought of many options, all with sharp
teeth and voracious appetites.
He tried to open the door only once. It wasn't locked, but a wall of dark night filled
the doorway, making the hallway pitch black beyond sight and preventing anyone
from entering or leaving. She turned on her starlight, which was also useless in the
face of such darkness.
Maybe this was some kind of sick test. To see if she could overcome their
strongest powers and protections, to evaluate her as an opponent. Maybe they
wanted to see what the Horn—whatever it was made of—could do. But she didn't
need to use her starlight against that darkness to realize it would have no effect. He
could feel that power in his bones.
Bryce searched his memory for any alternative escape tactic, remembering
everything Randall had taught him, but he couldn't use any of it to overcome that
impenetrable power.
So Bryce sat there. He ate. And threw peas to the

monsters.
Even if she managed to get out, she couldn't escape that planet. Not without
someone to feed his power, to activate the Horn in the process. And from Apollion's
hints, Hunt's power was much more compatible with hers than most. AND
It was true that Hypaxia had strengthened her against the deathhunter, but there
was no guarantee that the witch-queen's magic was enough to open a Gate.
And did she need the Gate to return home? Micah had used the Horn on her
back to open all seven Gates in the Crescent City, blocks away. When she landed
there, there was no structure nearby that could even be seen as a Gate. Just a
huge lawn, the river and the house that she could barely make out through the
dense fog.
Only the dagger—and Azriel, who wielded it—had been

there. As if that was where she needed to be.
“When knife and sword are reunited, so will our people,”
muttered Bryce into the silent room.
But for what? The fae were horrendous. The ones in this place weren't much
different from the ones she knew, from what she had noticed. And the fae of
Midgard had proven their moral decadence once again in the spring by leaving
vulnerable people locked out of their homes during the demon attack.
They proved with their laws and rules that they kept females oppressed, that they
were little more than a commodity. Bryce had turned those rules against them at
the Autumnal Equinox to marry Hunt, but by those same rules, she technically
belonged to him now. She was a princess, for Urd's sake, and yet she was the
property of the untitled male she had been with.
married.
Maybe the fae weren't worth the effort.

But there was still the problem of getting off this planet — one of the few worlds
that managed to expel the Asteri. Or daglan, as they called it.
Bryce leaned against the cell wall, with his knees close to his chest, and tried
to organize everything, laying out the puzzle pieces in front of him.
Hours passed and he couldn't think of anything.

She rubbed her face. He had ended up on the home world of the Fae, the
world where the Starry Ones — Theia, Pelias and Helena — came from. In
where Aster had come from and where the knife was waiting for her. If Urd had any
intention in sending her there... she certainly had no idea what

era.
Or how to get out of this mess.
***
“We shouldn't have brought her,” Flynn muttered as they hurried between
the stalls of the Meat Market, heading for an alternative exit on the
quieter side of the warehouse. — Fuck, I warned you, Holstrom...
“I ordered him to bring me,” said Sigrid, who was running alongside
Ithan, the elves' fire a faint yellow as they curled around her shoulders.
Ithan felt a pang when he saw the scene. An alpha defended him. He
took responsibility, even though it made it seem like he was taking
orders. The alphas he had lived with in recent years had used their power
and dominance for their own benefit. Danika had used her position to
support those beneath her, in her reckless way, but she was gone. He
thought he would never meet someone like Danika again, but maybe...
“Sabine would have found us anyway,” Ithan said.

—, here or at home. It was just a matter of time.
They entered a long service hallway with a dented metal door at the
far end and a poorly made sign with the word EXIT painted in white
letters. It definitely wasn't going to win any awards, but he doubted a city
health and safety inspector would ever set foot in that hideous tenement.
— Is it better if we separate? — asked Dec. — To try to mislead them

in that direction?
“No,” Marc replied, claws shining at his fingertips. — Their sense of
smell is very keen, they would be able to tell who she is with.
As if answering the question, howls echoed in the warehouse.

Ithan felt his entire body tense. I understood what those howls meant.
The prey is escaping. He clenched his teeth to keep from responding, to
stop himself from letting out his howl in response.
Beside him, Sigrid was super agitated, as if the howls had triggered a
response in her too.
“Then let's run away,” Flynn said. — Where will we meet if we get separated?
The question hung in the air. What place would be safe in that fucking city,
on that planet? Considering the connections they had with imprisoned traitors,
the list of options was quite limited. Where would Bryce have gone? She would
have found someone bigger and badder... or smarter, at least. She would have
gone to the gallery, perhaps, to the protected wings, but the sanctuary of Jesiba
Roga no longer existed.
The Griffin Antique Shop was never renovated or reopened. So there was...
— Let's go to the Comitium — Ithan decided. — Isaiah Tiberian will shelter

us.
Dec raised an eyebrow.
— Do you know Tiberian?
— No, but Athalar is his friend. And I've heard he's a good male.
“For an angel,” Flynn murmured.

Sigrid demanded to
know: — Are we going to the angels? — Disdain and distrust
impregnated in every word.
The howls in the warehouse were closer: We'll lie in wait together, in the
dark.
— I don't see any other option — admitted Dec — but it's just luck. Tiberian
can go to Celestina.
“The governor is a good person,” Flynn replied.
— I don't trust any archangel — Marc confessed. — They are born and
raised with uncontrollable power. They go to those secret academies, ripped
away from their families. It is not a conducive way to create balanced people,
good people.
On the way out, they stopped, listening carefully to the sounds around them.
They couldn't smell anything beyond the metal door, but the howls behind them
were getting closer. Whoever was in the warehouse would be in that aisle in a
few moments.
Another howl, more familiar.
“Amelie,” Ithan whispered. If they went back the way they came, they would
have to fight. Not with just any pack, but with the second most powerful in Lunathion.
Still, walking out that door into the merciless city, with no set allies to protect them...
Sigrid finally decided and opened the door with force.

And there, standing in the alley, was Sabine Fendyr.
Sabine laughed humorlessly. Her eyes met Ithan's, filled with the purest hatred,
and then she faced Sigrid, completely ignoring Ithan. He was nothing or nobody to
her. He didn't deserve his recognition.
Ithan bared his teeth. Flynn, Dec and Marc deactivated the security locks.
safety of your weapons.
But Sabine only said to Sigrid, showing a mouth full of fangs: — You look like
him.
Pain, darkness and silence. The world of Hunt Athalar was made of just that.
No, that wasn't true.

These things were his entire world beyond his tortured body, the sawn-off
wings, the pain of hunger making his stomach twist and the thirst burning his throat,
the slave mark stamped on his wrist. The halo tattooed again on his forehead by
Rigelus himself, the oppressive power of the tattoo somehow heavier and more
domineering than before. Everything he had conquered, recovered... had been
erased. Everything he was belonged to the asteri of
new.
But inside him, beyond the sea of pain and despair, Bryce was his entire world.
Your partner. Your wife. Your princess.

Prince Hunt Athalar Danaan. He would have hated her last name if it weren't
for the fact that it meant she owned his soul and his heart.
There was Bryce and nothing but her. Not even Pollux's barbed wire whip
could tear her face from his mind. Not even a saw with unsharpened blades could
remove the image while
cut off his wings.
Bryce, who had managed to escape. He had gone to Hell in search of help.
He would stay there, allow Pollux to make mincemeat of him, clip his wings
again and again, if it meant keeping the asteri's attention away from her. If only
that could buy her time to reassemble the strength they needed to take down
these sons of bitches.
I would rather die than tell you where she was. His only consolation was
knowing that Ruhn would do the same.
Baxian, bleeding and dangling on the other side of Ruhn, didn't know where
Bryce had gone, but he knew a lot about what she'd been doing lately. Still, the
Hellhound hadn't given Pollux a single piece of information. Hunt expected
nothing less from a male Urd who had chosen to partner with Danika Fendyr.
It was silent now; the only sound was the clanking of chains.
Blood, piss and shit accumulated on the floor, the smell was almost as
unbearable as the pain.
Pollux was creative, Hunt had to admit. While others might have chosen to
stick a knife in the stomach and twist, the Hammer knew where the exact spots
were on the feet to whip and burn, causing as much agony as possible to the
victim but still keeping them conscious.
Or maybe it was the Doe who learned these tricks. She stood behind her
lover and watched, with expressionless eyes, as the Hammer destroyed them
little by little.
That was the other secret he and Danaan kept. Who and what the Doe
was.
He was beginning to lose consciousness, a pleasant release that Hunt had
come to crave as much as Bryce's body entwined with his own. Sometimes he
pretended that when he fell into the darkness, he was falling into her arms, into
her pleasurable, intense heat.
Bryce. Bryce. Bryce.
Her name was like a prayer, an order.
I had little hope of getting out of there alive. His only mission was to make
sure he stalled enough for Bryce to do what he needed to do. After the series
of colossal screw-ups he had made over the centuries... it was the least he
could offer.
He should have seen this coming. Part of him had predicted it a few weeks
ago, when he'd tried to convince Bryce not to go down this path. I should have
insisted more. He should have said it was inevitable that things would turn out
this way, especially if he was involved.
He knew he couldn't trust Celestina, with all that shit about the new
governor, new rules. He had allowed her to convince him, and the fucking
archangel had betrayed them all. That little talk about being friends with
Shahar... he had swallowed it all.
He had let the memories of his long-dead beloved confuse his instincts, as
Celestina had certainly bet they would.
What was this if not another rebellion of the Fallen? On a smaller scale, of
course, but there was much more at stake this time.
At that time, he had lost his army and his beloved. I knew she was dying as
time stretched and slowed terribly around her. I knew she was dead when time
resumed its normal speed, and the entire world had changed with it.
However, the ties that now bound him to others—not just to Bryce, but to
the two males who were with him in this dungeon—became unbearable. Their
pain was his pain, and perhaps worse than what he had endured.
Shahar died an easy death. Dying at Sandriel's hands, dying

on the battlefield, quick and definitive... it had been easier.
A few meters away, Baxian muttered under his breath.
Hunt's arms were numb, his shoulders straining as he tried to support the
weight of their entire bodies.
Hunt mustered enough energy and focus to say to Baxian, “How…
how are you?”
Baxian gave a wet cough. -
Excellent.
Beside Hunt, Ruhn grunted. It might have been a laugh. They were the
only options they had: scream and cry or laugh at this abysmal disaster.
And indeed, Ruhn asked:

— Do you want to... hear... a joke? — The prince didn't wait for a
response before continuing: — Two angels... and a fairy prince...
enter... a dungeon...
Ruhn didn't finish, nor did he need to. A broken laugh and
hoarsely escaped Hunt. After Baxian. Then from Ruhn.
As much as each movement sent pain reverberating through his
arms, back, and throughout his broken body, Hunt couldn't stop
laughing. It was a sound that bordered on hysteria. Soon the tears
were streaming down his face and, from the smell, he knew that the
others were also laughing and crying, as if that were the funniest
thing in the world.
The chamber door opened with a bang, echoing off the stones
like thunder.
“Shut the fuck up,” Pollux protested as he walked down the stairs.
stairs, with wings shining in the dim light.
Hunt laughed louder. They heard footsteps coming behind the
Hammer; a man with dark hair and brown skin followed him: the
Falcon. The last member of Sandriel's triaries.
—What the fuck is their problem? — He looked contemptuously
at Pollux.
“They're a bunch of idiots, that's the problem,” replied Pollux,
strutting over to the rack of torture instruments and grabbing an iron
poker. He thrust it into the embers of the fire, golden light outlining its
white wings in a false celestial aura.
The Falcon approached, examining them thoroughly, living up to

his nickname. Like Baxian, the Falcon came from two different
peoples: angels, from whom he inherited his white wings; and falcon
shapeshifters, from whom he inherited the ability to transform into a
bird of prey.
The similarities between the two males ended there. For starters,
Baxian had a soul. As for Falcao...
The Falcon's eyes lingered on Hunt. There was no joy, no life in
those eyes.
— Athalaar.
Hunt nodded to the male.
- Idiot.
Ruhn laughed. The Falcon spun to the shelf, where he picked up a
long, curved knife. The kind that was designed to rip out organs when
pulled. Hunt remembered this one from the last time he saw her.
Ruhn laughed again, almost as if he were drunk.
- How creative.
— Let's see if you'll keep laughing in a little while, little prince — said
the Falcon, receiving a smile from Pollux while the Hammer waited for
the poker to heat up. “I heard your cousin Cormac beg for mercy before
the end.
“Fuck you,” Ruhn swore.
The hawk shifter weighed the knife in his hands.
— He was disinherited by his father. Or what's left of his body. —
He winked at Ruhn. — Your father did the same.
Even in pain, Hunt didn't fail to notice the shock that came across
Ruhn's face. For his father's betrayal? Or because of his cousin's death?
Did those things even matter when they were there?
Baxian replied the Falcon, with a harsh voice:
— You're a fucking liar. Always has been... and always will be.
The Falcon smiled at Baxian.
— How about we start with your language, traitor?
Baxian stuck his tongue out at Falcão like an invitation.
Hunt smiled. Yes... they were all in this together. Until the sad end.
The Falcon looked away at Hunt.

— You're next, Athalar.
— You can send fire. Hunt gasped. Ruhn stuck out his tongue as well.
The Falcon fluttered angrily as he saw them defy him in this way, his
white wings glowing with unearthly power. But, little by little, a smile
appeared on his face. It was terrible and remarkable the delight that came
over him as Pollux turned, the poker glowing and rippling with heat.
— Who goes first? — sang the Hammer. The angel remained

unshakable, silhouetted against the blazing fire behind him.
Hunt opened his mouth to say something cheeky before the horrendous spectacle began,
but in the dim light behind Pollux, beyond the fireplace, something dark moved. Something
darker than the shadow.
They were not Ruhn's shadows. The prince didn't seem to be able to conjure them with
the Gorsian shackles restraining him. Only the prince's mental conversation ability remained.
This shadow was different—darker, older. Observing-

you.
Observing Hunt
Was it a hallucination? It would be bad, because it meant he had some infection that not
even his immortal body could fight; good, because it meant he could slip silently into the arms
of death. Bad, because it meant the Asteri could turn all their attention to Bryce; good, because
the pain would disappear. Bad, because he still had a silly and meaningless hope, deep in his
heart, that he would see her again; Good, because if he was dead, Bryce wouldn't come looking
for him.
Across the room, the thing in the shadows moved. Just a little. As if she had gestured to
him, a finger curling, inviting him closer.
The death. She was the one there, in the shadows.

And it was calling out to him.
***
Night.
Rising onto the raft of oblivion, Ruhn floated through a sea of pain.
The last thing he remembered was the sound and sight of his small intestine spilling onto
the floor, a pain as intense as... well, as intense as the curved knife that Falcão had plunged
into his belly.
He wondered when the shapeshifter would disembowel them with his hawk-like claws, as
he liked to do. Ruhn could easily imagine it: the Falcon perched on his torso,
tearing out its organs, pecking them with that sharp beak. He would heal and then the
Falcon would start again. Again and again...
Ruhn had been a fool to think that anything that would happen here could be
worse than the years of torture at his father's hands. The burns, the Gorsian cuffs that
his father had placed on him to stop him from reacting, to stop him from healing... at
that time, at least, he had been able to develop his own ways of surviving, of
recovering. But now there was only pain, forgetfulness and more pain.
Would he have died? Or had he been a mere step away from death, as a Vanir
might have been if the blow had not been fatal? His fey body would regenerate the
organs, no matter how much the Gorsian shackles delayed the healing.
Night.
The female voice echoed across the starry sea. Like a lighthouse shining in the
distance.
Night.
There, there was no escaping his voice. If he got up, the pain would overwhelm
the raft and he would drown. So he had no choice but to listen, to head towards that
lighthouse.
Gods, what did he do to you?
Anger and sadness permeated the question that came from everything around
him, came from within him.
Ruhn managed to say Nothing you haven't already done a thousand times.
So, she got on the raft with him. Lidia. Fire dripped from her body, but he could
see her perfect face. The most beautiful female I had ever seen. A mask of perfection
over a rotten heart.
Your enemy. Your lover. The soul he thought he was...

She knelt down and reached out to him. I'm very sorry.
Ruhn moved, out of his reach. The most movement he could do, right there.
Something like agony flashed in her eyes, but she didn't try to touch him again.
He must have died today. Or come close to it, to make her go to read. All his
defenses had been exhausted and she had managed to penetrate his mental wall for
the first time since he discovered who she was.
What would they have done to Cormac, so that he would die once
and for all?
He couldn't stop the memory from washing over him. He remembered
sitting next to Cormac in that bar before they went to the Eternal City, the
moment he thought he caught a glimpse of the person his cousin could
have been. The friend Cormac could have become, if he hadn't been
systematically stripped of any kindness by King Morven.
He should not have been shocked to learn that the two kings had
disowned their sons. Although one king had fire in his veins and the other
had shadows, Einar and Morven were more alike than other people
realized.
Ruhn had always harbored the faint hope that his father would see
the Asteri for who they really were, and that if it came to that, his father
would make the right choice. That the planetarium in his office, the years
he'd spent searching for patterns in light and space... that it meant
something bigger. That they weren't just useless studies from a bored
member of royalty who needed to feel more important than he actually
was.
That hope had died. Dad was a fucking coward,
a weak.
Ruhn, called Lidia, and he hated the sound of her name coming out of
that creature's mouth. He hated her. He turned sideways, facing away
from her.
I understand why you're angry, that you must hate me, she began, her
voice hoarse. Ruhn, the... the things I did... I need you to understand why
I did that. Why do I keep doing all this.
Save your bullshit drama for someone who cares.
Ruhn, please.
The raft creaked and he knew she was trying to get closer again. But
he couldn't bear her touch, the plea in her voice, the emotion that no one
in the world had heard from the Doe but him.
Then Ruhn said Fuck your excuses. And rolled out

of the mental raft, allowing the sea of pain to drown him.
Ithan's heart stopped at Sabine's wild smile, as she advanced towards

the side door of the warehouse. The alley behind her was empty, meaning
there were no witnesses. Exactly what Ithan and all those who served
under Sabine were trained to ensure.
Sigrid took a step back, bumping into Declan. The elves

They held tightly to his neck, the flames yellow and trembling.
— I knew it had been too easy to find my brother and your sister —
Sabine teased, her eyes fixed on Sigrid, as if the two fae warriors with
their weapons pointed at her head didn't exist. — I knew he had lied
when he said how many puppies he had.
Sigrid stopped. Ithan didn't dare take his eyes off Sabine to read her
expression.
— All this effort... because of you? — Sabine looked at her curved
claws. — At least I promise it will be quick. That's more than I can say
about your sister. Poor puppy.
“Leave her alone,” Ithan growled, balancing on his toes and preparing
to jump at Sabine. To take a final and disastrous position.
Sabine laughed disdainfully, finally seeming to notice his presence.

— Quite a guard, Holstrom.

— Damn, Sabine, you have two seconds to get out.
Sabine smiled, making her nose wrinkle. It was absolute wolf fury.
— You're going to need more than bullets to take me down, little fae.
Ithan had told Flynn that Sabine wasn't stupid enough to start a mess in
the Viper Queen's territory, but, when he saw the hateful look in the
Presumptive Cousin's eyes, he wondered if the anger and fear she felt had
surpassed the minimum of good. sense. Then he put his claws out.
— What about that? — He growled again. — When we tell

to the authorities, you will be dead.
Sabine's smile grew colder.
— Who are you going to tell? Celestina won't mind. And the Autumn King
wants a new beginning for the Valbaran fae, he won't get involved in that.
A low, rumbling growl sounded from behind Ithan.

The hairs on his arms stood up. It was a growl of pure defiance. One he
had heard from Danika. From Connor. The challenge of a wolf that would not
back down.
Sabine looked at Sigrid in surprise.
— I got into the tank for my sister — said Sigrid, her voice hoarse. Agony
and anger contorted his face. — To keep her fed, to keep her safe. And you
killed her. — Her voice rose, with a tone of command that made the wolf
inside him stand up straight, ready to attack at her signal. — I'm going to rip
out your throat, you soulless thief. I'm going to piss on your decomposing
corpse...
Sabine jumped.
Declan fired his gun at the same time Flynn fired
with an explosive sound.
Sigrid fell to her knees, claws scratching her face as she shielded her
ears from the noise. Flynn came forward with his gun in hand, shooting again
at the fallen wolf that was bleeding on the dirty sidewalk of the alley.
Dec's shot hit Sabine in the knee, incapacitating her. But

Flynn had blown her face off.
“Come on,” Flynn said, grabbing Sigrid's arm. The trembling goblins
jumped onto his shoulders. — We have to get to the river... to catch one
of the boats.
However, Ithan could only look at Sabine's body, the blood scattered
across the alley. There was no doubt that she would heal from this wound,
but it wouldn't be fast enough to stop them from leaving.
Every muscle in his body seized up. As if shouting: Go help her!

Protect and save your alpha! Even though something in her stomach
whispered: Cut her to pieces.
The others started running down the alley, but Ithan didn't stop.
moved.
“Stop,” he said. Nobody heard him. —Stop! — His scream echoed

through the stones, the corpse, and the blood, and they stopped just a few
steps from the alley's exit.
- What it was? shouted Marc, his cat eyes shining in the darkness.
—The other wolves... were silent. — The howls that were getting
closer and closer stopped completely.
“I'm glad someone noticed,” he said slowly.
a female voice at the end of the alley.
The Viper Queen was leaning against a filthy wall, a lit cigarette
between her fingers, her white jumpsuit shining like the moon under the
flickering primalux of the streetlights. She looked down at Sabine's body.
The purple-painted mouth curved upward as his gaze lifted to Ithan.
“Bad puppy,” she purred.
***
— This request is unconventional, Lidia.

Lidia kept her chin up, her hands behind her back as she walked
straight down the crystal corridor. The perfect imperial soldier.
— Yes, but I believe that Irithys could be... a motivation for Athalar.
Rigelus kept pace beside her, graceful despite his long legs. The fey
teenager's body masked the immortal monster that hid below.
When they started to descend the spiral staircase, lit only

through primalux gutters in tiny alcoves, Rigelus sniffed:
— She usually cooperates a lot, but she may refuse to comply with
this order.
Now a step behind him, Lidia fixed her gaze on his skeletal neck. If
he were any other being, it would be so easy to wrap your hands around
him and twist. She could almost feel the echo of her broken bones
reverberating in her hands.
“Irithys will do as she is told,” Lidia said as they descended into the
darkness.
Rigelus said nothing more as they walked around and around the
basement of the Eternal Palace. Even deeper than the dungeons where
Ruhn and the others were imprisoned. Most believed that this place was
nothing more than a myth.
Rigelus finally stopped before a metal door. Lead — six inches thick.
Lidia had only been there once during her time with the Asteri.
She had also been accompanied by Rigelus and her father.
A private tour of the palace, offered by the Radiant Hand herself to
one of her most loyal subjects — and one of the richest. And Lidia, young
and still full of hatred and disdain for the world, was willing to join them.
She became that person again when Rigelus placed his hand on the
door. The lead flashed and then the door opened.
The oppressive heat and humidity of the place had not changed since
that first visit. When Lidia entered behind Rigelus, the air stuck to her
face and neck again.
The hall stretched ahead, the thousand bathtubs sunk into the stone
floor glowing with a pale light that illuminated the bodies floating within.
Masks, bathtubs, and machines hummed and hissed; the salt formed a
crust on the stones between the tanks,
some parts full of the substance. And in front of the machines, already making
a long bow to Rigelus...
A withered humanoid form, veiled and dressed in grayish attire, of a material
transparent enough to reveal the bony body beneath, stood in front of the
enormous table at the entrance to the room. The Lady of the Mystics. If she
had a name, Lidia had never heard it spoken.
Above her veiled head, a hologram rotated, with stars and planets whizzing
by. Every constellation and galaxy in which, now, mystics searched for Bryce
Quinlan.
How many corners of the universe were left?
That wasn't what Lidia needed to worry about, not right now. Not when
Rigelus said, “I need Irithys.”
The lady raised her head, but her body remained hunched over with old
age, so thin that the knots in her spine protruded beneath her transparent robe.
— The queen has been in a bad mood, Your Radiance. Have what
she will not fulfill your request.
Rigelus just pointed down the hall, bored.
— Still, let's try.
The lady curtsied again and limped past the tubs and machines, the trail of
her robes white from the salt.
Rigelus walked past the mystics without even looking down. They were
little more than cattle to him. Gears of a machine to help meet your needs. But
Lidia couldn't help but look at the wet faces as she passed by. Everyone resting,
whether they wanted to or not.
Where did they all come from, the dreamers locked in there? What Hell did
they or their families endure to make it worth it? And what skills did they possess
to guarantee this supposed honor of serving the Asteri?
Rigelus approached the center of the hall, which was glowing dimly. There,
in a crystal bubble the size of a melon, slept a female made of pure flame.
Her long hair hung around her in golden waves and fiery curls, and her
slim, graceful limbs were bare. The Goblin Queen may not have been
bigger than Lidia's hand, but even at rest she had a presence. As if she
were the little sun this place orbited around.
That was almost true, Lidia supposed.

The lady limped over to the protected and enchanted sphere and knocked
at her with her skinny knuckles.
- Stand up. Your master is here to see you.
Irithys opened her eyes that were like embers. Even though it was
made of flames, it seemed to boil with hatred. Especially when his gaze fell
on Rigelus.
The Radiant Hand only tilted its head mockingly.
- Your Majesty.
Slowly, with the grace of a dancer, Irithys sat down.
His eyes slid from Rigelus to the lady and then to Lidia.
Nothing but conjecture and resentment shone on his face, which was
ordinary and simple considering the usual beauty of his species.
Rigelus gestured to Lidia, the golden rings on his long fingers shining
in Irithys's light.
— My Doe has a request for you.
My Doe. Lidia ignored the possession embedded in the words and the
way they shook her soul.
She approached the bubble, her hands clasped behind her back again.
back.
— I have three prisoners in the dungeon who will find your type of fire
particularly motivating. I demand that you come to the dungeons to help
me make them talk.
The Lady of Mystics turned her head to Lidia.
— You can't want her to leave here...
Without deigning to look at the old woman, Lidia
said: — Surely, as the owner of this place, you will be able to find
forces to protect your sections for a few hours.
Under the thin veil, she could have sworn the lady's eyes
they glowed with resentment.
— Irithys is here precisely because we need the specific kind of

protection she provides. Because of your light, a beacon against the
darkness of Hell...
Lidia just gave Rigelus a bored look.
He smiled, always amused by the cruelty of others, and said to
the lady:
— If Hell arrives, just let me know and I will come to assist you
personally. — A great honor... and an indication of how much he
needed Athalar to speak. She wasn't too sure about Ruhn and Baxian,
but Athalar...
The lady lowered her head. With that, he left Irithys staring at
Lidia, who, in turn, lifted her chin.
— Are you willing to help me?
Irithys looked down at her body, as if she could see the small band
of tattoos around her throat. A kind of halo, tattooed on the Goblin
Queen by imperial witches to keep her power under control.
The queen's gesture was a silent question.

Rigelus replied: —
The tattoo remains. You can use your power enough to prove
yourself useful.
Lidia was silent. She allowed Irithys to analyze her.
It had been kept there for more than a century. Without seeing the
light of day or leaving that crystal bubble in all this time. There was a
good chance that behind those sparkling eyes, the queen had gone
mad.
But Lidia didn't need the Goblin Queen's sanity, she could think
for both of them.
Irithys discreetly lowered her chin.
Rigelus turned to Lidia.
— You can keep it for a week.
Lidia held the elf's burning gaze, letting her see the fire
cold inside your own soul.
— It won't take that long to get Athalar to talk.
***
Bryce left untouched on the tray what she assumed was dinner—roasted
chicken, more bread, and some herbed potatoes. No one had come over in
the hours that had passed, so she assumed they would come and check on
her in the morning, or maybe wait until she was banging on that wall and
howling for someone to come talk to her.
Neither alternative seemed appealing.

This, in effect, left her with two options. See if she could break through the
magical barrier and leave this mountain, entering a strange new world, with
no idea where she would go, or...
She looked down. Or she could find out what was at the bottom of the
grate, if there was any opening, beyond the beasts, that could take her out of
this place... and into a strange new world, with no idea where she would go.
Hours had passed, and that was the best she could do.
“Pathetic,” he muttered, playing with the Archesian amulet.
up and down the current. — Fucking pathetic.
What was happening to Hunt? With Ruhn? Will it still
they were...
She wouldn't allow herself to think about it.

Her captors had taken her cell phone before taking her there, so she had
no idea what time it was. Or at least what time it was on Midgard. She didn't
even want to start thinking about how time could pass faster or slower in this
world. And how much time had actually passed since he launched himself on
a wild run through the corridor of the Eternal Palace...
Bryce stood up from his crouched position against the wall. He went to
the grate in the center of the room. A chorus of hisses echoed as she
approached. “Yeah,
okay, I heard you,” he muttered, kneeling down and pulling the grate off
the floor, his fingers stretching painfully with the effort.
But, inch by inch, the grate moved out of place, scraping loudly against the
stone floor.
She waited a moment, listening for the sound of her captors approaching.
When no one came to investigate the noise, Bryce peered into the dark pit
she had dug.
He lowered his head a little towards the hole. The hisses

they stopped.
Bryce conjured starlight in his hand and raised it. There was nothing but
emptiness below. She clenched her palm, turning the light into a sphere,
and let it fall...
There was a sea of dark, scaled bodies lying
writhing, painted silver by her light.
Bryce backed away.
They were sobeks, or their dark twins. Tharion had faced them when
they escaped the Bone Quarter, focusing his water magic into lethal spears
that pierced the creatures' thick skin,
but...
“Fuck,” she whispered.
He looked over his shoulder at the door. To the shield that echoed there
with a Rhysand energy. Power like she had never seen before; at least, not
beyond the asteri.
If he had as much power as an asteri... it was all a guess, really, but if
he could be manipulated into helping her, somehow returning to Midgard
with her and ending it all...
She could very well replace six conquerors with another. And something
had to change, the cycle had to be broken now, but not to start over with
another supreme lord. And if Rhysand did indeed have that much power,
she doubted these interrogations would continue so peacefully for much
longer. Even more so now that they knew she had something important
tattooed on her back. Whatever Feita meant, it had considerable importance
to them. She had no doubt that their patience would soon run out.
She didn't know if that would manifest itself in Rhysand going against
her polite insistence in asking for consent to search her mind or in Azriel
cutting her with that black knife. Either way, Bryce didn't want to be around
to find out.
She looked at the hole, at the beasts.
That grain of magic that altered the language in your brain and made the
Horn glow left something in his chest. Enough fuel...
She would have a nanosecond to teleport — cross, as they called it
there — to the beasts. To that piece of rock
which she noticed jutting out just above them, a little wider than her foot.
Then she would have to see if there was any way out. Some tunnel they
moved through underground in this place.
Unless it was just a hole, a real cage where they sat in the darkness
and waited for meat—dead or alive—to be thrown at them.
It would be a real leap in the dark.

Her hands shook, but she clenched them into fists. He had overcome
an asteri in the race. Okay, he did it with the help of Hunt's lightning, but...
Every minute there counted. Every minute made Hunt and Ruhn more
time in the hands of Rigelus. If they were still alive.
—Hunt. Ruhn. Mom. Dad. Fury. June. Syrinx. — She whispered
names, fighting the tightness in his throat.
I had to get out of there. Before these people decided the risk she
posed was too great and dealt with her intelligently. Or before they
decided they liked Rigelus's idea of Midgard and realized it would make
an excellent peace offering...
“Get up, dammit,” he growled. — Get up and do something.
Hunt would say she had lost her mind. Ruhn would tell her to try to
tell her captors more lies, to try to win them over.
But Danika...
Danika would have jumped.
Danika had jumped into the depths of the Descent with Bryce.
Knowing there would be no return trip for her.
Danika, whose death Rigelus had planned, manipulating Micah into
killing her.
A white fog blurred Bryce's vision. Primal rage coursed through his
body, the kind only fey could feel.
It sharpened his vision and made his muscles tense. The star on his chest
shined with a soft light.
“Fuck it,” she said.
And teleported to the hole.
***
Tharion assumed he was still high and hallucinating when Ithan Holstrom,
Declan Emmett, Tristan Flynn, Marc Rosarin, and an unknown she-wolf—
carrying three very familiar goblins—entered the suite. They were escorted
by the Viper Queen and six of her drugged fae bodyguards.
Lying on the couch in front of the television, so relaxed it felt like his
bones had melted into the cushions, Tharion could barely lift his head as
the group entered. He gave them a lazy, content smile.
- Hi friends.
Declan let out a sigh.
—Damn Flaming Soles, Tharion.
Tharion's face heated. He could imagine what he looked like, but he
couldn't convince his body to move. The head was very heavy and the
limbs were very weak. He closed his eyes, sinking into that sweet sensation.
—What the fuck is going on here? — Flynn growled. —Did you do this
to him?
Tharion only realized that Ari had entered the room when she hissed at
Flynn.
- I? Do you think I go around drugging defenseless people?
— You go around abandoning them — Flynn countered. — Or was that
just with Bryce and Hypaxia?
— Go back to your little group, cute — Ari replied.
— I'll let you all catch up — the Viper Queen
he hummed and left, closing the doors behind him with a soft thud.
Tharion managed to open his eyes.
— Why are you here? —By Ogenas, your mouth looked so soft.
Declan takes a few steps.

— Bryce, Athalar and Ruhn were unable to leave the Eternal Palace.
Was it the news or the poison that made Tharion's whole world spin?
—Dead? — The word was like ashes on his tongue.

“No,” said Declan. — Well, as far as we know. Bryce has disappeared,

and Ruhn and Hunt are now trapped in the Asteri dungeon.
Tharion just looked at the fae warrior, at the blurred outline of Declan,
and took in the terrible news.
“Man, your pupils are huge,” Flynn said. No wonder
that his vision was so hazy. — What are you taking?
- You do not even wanna know.
“Her poison,” Ari replied. —, That's what he's high on.
“You look horrible,” said Declan, moving closer to look at
Tharion. — Your shoulder...
“Minotaur,” growled Tharion. — It's healing. I dont want
talk about it. Where did Bryce go?
“We don't know,” said Declan.
— Damn — cursed Tharion in a long sigh. He felt the word echo in every
bone and vein. Before he could ask further, he noticed Ari sizing up the group,
his gaze focusing on the wolf next to Holstrom.
- I know you.
The wolf's chin lifted.
— I say the same, dragon.
Tharion must have looked confused, because Holstrom said, “This is
Sigrid... Fendyr.
Yes, he was hallucinating. There was only one Fendyr besides Cousin:
Sabine. And he was sure she didn't have any secret daughter.
“I'll explain more later,” said Declan, and sank into the nearest chair. His
boyfriend was next to him, with his hand on his shoulder. — We have to
resolve this mess.
Flynn swore.
— What is there to resolve? We kill Sabine.
Tharion shuddered—or tried to. His body didn't move.
— You killed Sabine — corrected Declan — I only shot her in the leg.
“She didn't really die,” Flynn said.

— She doesn't have a face — replied Dec. — That's pretty...
—What happened to the other wolves? — Holstrom didn't ask any of

them in particular.
Oh, wait... he was asking Tharion and Ari, who cast
a blank stare at Holstrom.
—What wolves?
— We were being chased by the Pack of the Black Rose — Ithan
explained — and then... we weren't anymore. Where did the Viper Queen
take them?
“Start searching the river,” Tharion muttered.
“She must not have killed the Pack,” Marc said. —, It would
be a headache, even for her. The goons must have knocked them all out
and taken them somewhere else.
— And Sabine? asked Holstrom.
Gods, Tharion's head was throbbing. This must be some dream
strange...
— The Viper Queen will twist this story in her favor
somehow,” said Marc. — She will either present herself as Sabine's
savior or turn us in.
Tharion raised his eyebrows at Marc, who noticed the look and
explained:
— I had some clients who had problems with the Queen.
Viper over the years. I learned a few things about their tactics.
Tharion nodded, as if this were perfectly normal, and
closed his eyes again.
“Pathetic,” Ari hissed, probably at him. But then she asked the others,
“So you are all prisoners of the Viper Queen?”
“I'm not sure,” Declan replied. — She caught us just as we were, uh…
finishing off Sabine. When she told us to follow her, it felt like an order.
— But she didn't say anything else? — asked Ari. Tharion opened
one eye, struggling to continue the conversation.
— Except we can sleep here tonight — said Flynn, sitting on the
couch next to Tharion and picking up the remote control.
He switched to a sports channel.
— We should run to Tiberian or the river — said Declan.
— You won't leave if Queen Viper doesn't want to — he replied.

Tharion with a hoarse voice.
— So we're trapped? — Sigrid's voice had a hint of something akin to
panic.
“No,” Holstrom replied. — We just need to think carefully about the next
steps. a matter of strategy.
“Come on, great football captain,” Flynn intoned with mock solemnity.
Ithan rolled his eyes, and the gesture was so normal, so friendly, that
Tharion felt a tightness in his chest. He had thrown everything away, any
chance of having a normal life. And now his friends were here... seeing him
in this state.
Tharion closed his eyes once again, this time because he couldn't bear to
see his friends. He couldn't bear the worry and pity in Holstrom's eyes as the
wolf realized his pitiful state.
Captain Anything. It was more like Captain Useless.
***
The beasts were much larger and, up close, they smelled much worse. Bryce's
magic ended when they turned toward him. She teetered on the edge of the
rock before steadying herself.
One jump up and they would devour her. The star shining on his chest
illuminated only those closest to him, all with hissing mouths, contorted
bodies, slashing tails...
She called upon her power, but... nothing. Just bright stardust in your
veins. Enough to keep that star shining in your chest. No teleportation, then.
Could these creatures see enough to be blinded? They lived in darkness.
Could they have evolved beyond the need for vision?
Thoughts came and went quickly. The railing was thirty feet high; there
was no turning back now. And the floor of the pit was covered in these things,
everyone smelling and evaluating her.
But without... attacking. As if something about her made them stop.
Done. Maybe it also meant something to these creatures.
Bryce pulled the neckline of her t-shirt down, revealing the star in all
her glory. The beasts reared back, hissing, throwing their huge, scaled
heads back. His teeth gleamed with starlight.
A tunnel extended on each side of the shaft. She could only make out
the huge mouths, but it looked like this hole was in the middle of a
passage. But where? This had been the stupidest thing she had ever
done. In a life full of stupid ideas and mistakes, that was impressive, but...
Bryce turned toward one of the tunnels, trying to get a better look at
what lay beyond. The star on his chest darkened. As if his magic was
fading quickly. She spun toward the other tunnel, trying to see what she
could before the magic disappeared...
The star shone again.
“Huh,” he murmured. Bryce turned the other way. The star disappeared.
To the opposite side: it lights up again.
Rigelus said the star reacted to people; to those who were loyal to her,
her chosen knights or whatever. He also said that Theia herself carried
this star on her chest. And in this world, the home planet of Theia and the
Starfires...
Bryce had no choice but to trust that star.
“That way, then,” she said, her voice echoing through the chamber.
But I still had to overcome the chasm between the beasts and the next
niche in the tunnel wall.
He never wished he had wings, but damn, how useful they would be
right now. If Hunt had been there with her...
He felt a lump in his throat. The beasts hissed, waving their tails.
As if they could feel his mood change.
Bryce focused on her breathing, as she had learned to do after losing
Danika, as she had learned to do in front of all those Vanir and Fae who
had mocked her. The star continued to shine, pointing the way. The
creatures calmed down, as if they shared the same emotions.
She forced herself to stay calm, not to feel afraid. The creatures
became calmer. Some lowered their heads.
She looked at the star on her chest, which was still shining brightly.
They are also your defenders, he seemed to say. The star hadn't been
wrong about Hunt. Or Cormac.
Then Bryce took one of his feet off the rock. The beasts did not move.
She lowered her foot a little, swinging the bait...
Anything.
Its heartbeat accelerated and a huge head rose,

spinning towards you.
For love, everything is possible. She called upon the memory of
Danika's love and let the feeling wash over her, steadying her as she
descended to the floor.
To the nest of beasts.
They lay before her like obedient dogs. She didn't question it.
He thought of nothing other than the star on his chest, the tunnel it pointed
to and the desire to see the faces of those he loved once again.
Bryce took a step, his neon pink sneakers shockingly bright amid the
dark scales so dangerously close. Then another step. The creatures
watched, but without moving a single claw.
Ruhn had called her queen before he left. And for the first time in her
life, as she crossed that sea of death... she could lift her chin a little higher.
She could feel a cloak fall around her shoulders, a trail of starlight following
her.
He could feel something like a crown landing on his head.
Guiding her into the darkness.
***
Tharion finally managed to gather enough concentration and energy to

stand up and walk slowly towards his room.
Holstrom cornered him a second later.
—What the fuck happened? — asked the wolf, stopping Tharion at the
door.
— The Queen of Rio was after me. — Gods, his voice sounded weak,
even to his ears. — It was either die or be arrested in prison.
her hands, or... that.

— You should have looked for me.
- For what? — Tharion's laugh was as weak as his voice.
— You are also a deserter. We are wolves without a pack. — Tharion
nodded to the wolf now sitting on the couch next to Flynn. — Speaking
of which... Sigrid Fendyr?
- Long story. She is Sabine's niece. —Ithan's mouth tightened. —
She was the mystical female in the Astronomer's house. I saved her
two days ago.
Tharion's head swam.
—So what are you doing here?
— Before Sabine showed up to kill Sigrid, we were getting to the
part where I convinced everyone to come free you from this shit so we
could get on the Deep Freighter and save Ruhn and Athalar.
—That's... a lot of information. — Tharion's heart was swimming

with the words.
Or maybe it was the poison. His stomach was upset and he really
needed a bathroom or a bed. Or just a moment of peace.
"You can't stay here," Ithan said, but his voice sounded distant as
Tharion walked to his bed and collapsed face down on the mattress. —
We're going to find a way to get you out of here.
— Too late, wolf — said Tharion, the words muffled in the pillow.
They crawled out more and more as sleep gripped him in its sharp
claws and pulled him down. — I no longer have salvation.
***
Ithan found Sigrid pacing back and forth in front of the window that
looked out onto the now dark ring. It was late enough that even the
lights had been turned off.
— You should sleep... you can have the couch.
Dec, Flynn and Marc lay on the floor; although, from their breathing,
Ithan knew they were awake. After the night that
had, how could anyone sleep?

Sigrid crossed her arms, hugging her thin body.
— We're stuck here.
“No,” Ithan insisted. — I won't let that happen.
— I can't get stuck again. — Her voice broke. - I can't.
“You're going to get out of here,” Ithan said. —, no matter what

happen.
—Then why not go to the door right now? — she demanded,
waving his hand towards the suite's exit door.
“Because there are six drugged-up fae assassins on the other side,
waiting to kill us if we do.”
Her face paled and she rubbed her chest.
— Trapping us. I need to get out.
- You are going.
She closed her eyes, breathing shallowly and letting herself be lost in
panic.
Ithan looked across the room. The goblins were curled up next to Flynn,
dozing like balls of violet flame, and they didn't seem to be panicking. Quiet,
but... focused.
As if they were used to facing fear. He felt his stomach turn just thinking
about it.
“Sabine will come after me again,” said Sigrid, “won't she?”
— She'll try, but we'll be too far from the city by the time she recovers.
His eyes narrowed.

— Why don't we leave at that time? When did you take me out of the
tank?
Ithan stiffened.
— Because I didn't know where else to go.
— A house with these clowns would be the best...
— These clowns are my friends, and some of the best fighters I know —
warned Ithan, irritated. — These clowns risked their lives for you today... they
saved you.
She showed her teeth.
—If Sabine is going to recover, then let me go to her body and tear it
apart...
— Believe me, I thought about that too. But…
He didn't finish the thought.
- But what?
He shook his head, not allowing himself to go down that path,
even in your mind.
— It's too late — he said —, you should go to sleep.

— I won't make it.
“Then try,” he said, perhaps a little more rudely than necessary.
Sigrid looked at him and then at the door to Tharion's room.

— Was this the merman you wanted to help us?
- Yes.
She snorted.
— I don't think he'll be much help to anyone. Not even for
yourself.
“You should sleep,” he repeated. I was tired of it.

— Do you usually do this? she asked suddenly. —
Freeing enslaved people?
“Only recently,” he replied tiredly.
He didn't wait for her to respond before walking to Tharion's room,
throwing himself on the floor next to the man who was sleeping soundly
and closing his eyes.
When he had already traveled about six meters along the tunnel, the
number of beasts began to decrease little by little.
They remained motionless, watchful, until Bryce passed the last of them.
He found a fence blocking his path and a small door on the left side of the
barrier. As soon as he touched the door, it opened. He had to duck to get
through, but it was evident that it was designed to prevent the beasts from
escaping.
He made sure to close the door behind him.
Metal creaked and hissing echoed through the tunnel, like a swarm of
angry wasps.
The beasts writhed again, their jaws snapping and their bodies heaving.
They scraped against each other, as if closing the door had snapped them
out of their stupor. Bryce stumbled back just in time to see a particularly
large creature charging at the bars.
The iron shook with the impact, but it held.

Bryce gasped, watching the sinuous beast once again move. But the
creatures were too big to fit through the bars.
She let out a shaky breath and analyzed the tunnel ahead. A
The star shone brighter, as if encouraging her to move forward.
“Okay,” she said, patting her chest. - He is well.
***
Bryce walked for hours. Or what he assumed was hours, judging by the pain in his
legs and feet, even with the cushioning of his sneakers.
The tunnel might not lead anywhere. It could be a hundred and fifty kilometers
long.
I should have brought some supplies, stuffed some of the food from the tray
into my pockets and bra. Took water.
I could see no diversions, tunnels, or alternative intersections.
Just a long, endless path in the dark.
His mouth was dry, and as much as he knew he shouldn't, Bryce stopped. She
sat leaning against the weathered wall, swallowing the dryness in her mouth. I had
no choice but to continue.
He closed his eyes for a moment. Just for one...
***
Bryce opened his eyes.

She had fallen asleep. Somehow, she had fallen asleep so exhausted for who
knows how many hours that she hadn't even noticed, and...
The star on his chest still shined beneath his t-shirt. Still was
not tunnel.
But I was no longer alone.
Nesta was standing above her, a sword strapped to her back. The female's
blue-gray eyes seemed to glow with power in the starlight.
Bryce didn't dare move.

Nesta tossed her a leather canteen.
— Do yourself a favor and drink this before you pass out.
new.
***
Bryce drank what, fortunately, appeared to be water from the canteen, and
watched the other woman over the rim of the bottle. Nesta sat against the far
wall of the tunnel, monitoring Bryce with attentive curiosity.
They had been silent since Bryce woke up. Nesta barely feels
had moved, except to sit down.
Finally, Bryce capped the canteen and tossed it back to Nesta, who
caught him easily.
— How did you find out that I left the cell? - There was not
need to further reveal that she could teleport.
Nesta gave him a bored look, as if Bryce should already know the answer.
— We have people who can talk to the shadows. They told us you went
through the fence.
Interesting... and scary. But Bryce asked, “So you're
here to drag me back to the cell?”
Nesta stuffed her canteen into her backpack and stood up, in a confident,
graceful movement. The sword strapped to his back...it wasn't Aster, though
Bryce could have sworn there was something similar about the blade, a sort of
presence that drew her toward him.
The female tilted her head towards the tunnel behind them, towards the
way back.
— I was sent to escort you. - It's
the same thing. Bryce stood up. She against this female... had good
chances, but the sword was a problem. As was any kind of presence that came
from Nesta, apparently capable of detecting the Horn on Bryce's back. Fighting
an opponent whose abilities and powers were unknown was probably
somewhat reckless.
- Look. I'm not here to cause problems...

—Then don't cause it. Come back with me.
Bryce glanced at the tunnel behind them.
—How did you get past the beasts?
Nesta opened a discreet smile.
— It's worth meeting people with wings.
Bryce grunted despite the pain in his chest.
—So someone took you to the Gate...

—And it will take us back. — One corner of his mouth lifted.
— Or drag you, if he decides to do it the hard way.
Bryce watched the path behind Nesta. There were only shadows
there. No sign of anyone with wings waiting to grab her.
— You might be bluffing.
She could have sworn silver fire flickered in Nesta's eyes.
— Do you want to pay to see it?

Bryce held the female's gaze. It was obvious they didn't want her dead,
since they had sent someone to rescue her, not hunt her. But if she went back
to that cell, how long would they keep her there? Even hours could be crucial
for Hunt and Ruhn...
— I'm always open to new learning — said Bryce.
Then she burst into light.
Nesta swore, but Bryce didn't wait to see if the light had blinded her before
darting down the hall. Without weapons, a head start was their best chance.
A force that felt like a stone wall hit her from behind. The world tilted and
she felt her breath hitch as she collided with the stone floor, her bones
throbbing with pain. Shadows enveloped her, trapping her, and she struggled,
kicking and slashing.
She made her light shine, an incandescent explosion that made the
shadows break in all directions.
He might not have enough magic in his veins to teleport, but at least he
would buy some time that way.
She stood up with difficulty, but the shadows jumped at her again like a pack
of wolves determined to devour her.
She let them attack her for a moment before her magic exploded like a
light bomb everywhere. It made shadows fly to the ceiling and walls. Where
the shadow touched the stone, debris fell. The mountain shook.
Bryce ran further into the tunnel, into the darkness, her star shining as she
ran to get away from the crumbling rock around her...
The world shook and roared again, causing her to fall into the air.
a cloud of dust.
And then there was silence, broken only by the rocks falling from the
stone wall that now blocked the way back. But a cave-in wouldn't stop a
Vanir or Fae for long. Bryce got up...
Suddenly, she felt metal pinch her neck. Icy, deathly cold.
— No — Nesta said softly, panting — move.

Bryce looked at the female, but didn't remove the blade from her neck.
His entire being roared so that he wouldn't touch the sword any more than
necessary.
— Nice trick with the shadows.
Nesta just looked at her, imperiously.
- Stand up.
— Put down your sword and I will.

Their gazes dueled, but the sword only moved a little.
Bryce stood up, brushing the dust and debris off his clothes.
- And now?
His knees gave way from exhaustion. He had exhausted his magic,
his veins completely devoid of starlight.
Nesta looked at the cave-in. Whatever dark magic he possessed
seemed to be barely able to move the stones. The warrior nodded towards
the tunnel ahead.
— I think you got what you wanted.
— I didn't want to cause this...
- Whatever. Now there is only one way out, if there is any left.
Bryce sighed, frowning at the star on his chest, still glowing in the dark
through his t-shirt. Lighting up all the dirt now spread on the white cotton.
— I didn't mean to drag anyone else into this with me.

—Then you should have stayed in the Hewn City.
Bryce kept that scrap of information. The place where she was kept
was called Excavated City.
— Look, this star... — She hit her chest. — You are indicating to me
this direction. I have no idea why, but I have to follow her.
Nesta pointed the blade at the dark path ahead.

Bryce could have sworn the sword whizzed through the air.
—Then move on.
— You're not going to stop me?
Nesta returned to putting the sword behind her back with enviable grace.
— We're trapped down here. We might as well see what's there.
It was a better reaction than Bryce could have expected,

mainly coming from the fey.
Bryce shrugged and walked into the darkness, keeping an eye on the
female at his side. And he prayed that Urd knew where he was leading them.
Lidia carried the crystal bubble containing the Fire Goblin Queen
through the dark corridors. Irithys's flame reflected shades of gold on
the marble floor and wall.
She didn't say anything to the elf...not with all the cameras at the
ready throughout the Asteri palace. Irithys didn't seem to mind.
He rested at the bottom of the sphere, his legs folded serenely.
After long minutes, however, the elf said: — The
dungeons are not on that side.
— And are you that familiar with the layout of this place?
— My memory is good — said the queen in a
drab, her long hair floating above her head in a swirl of yellow flames.
— I only need to see it once to remind me. I remember in great detail
the entire walk down here, to the mystics.
A very useful gift. But Lidia said:

— We're not going to the dungeons.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Irithys peering at her.
—But you told Rigelus...
— It's been a while since you came out of your bubble... and used
your powers. — Any embers left over from the
halo restriction. — I think it's wise for you to train a little before the main
event.
- What does that mean? — asked the queen, and her flames took on
a cautious shade of orange, but Lidia didn't respond as she unlocked the
unmarked iron door that led to the quieter floor below. Lidia silently thanked
Luna that her hands didn't shake as she gripped the doorknob, the gold
and ruby ring on her finger shining in Irithys's light.
Between one breath and another, Lidia ignored that part of her that
begged distant gods, the part that had doubts. She became calmer,
impassive, her expression as imperturbable as the surface of a long-
forgotten forest lake.
The door creaked open, revealing a table, the chair in front of it, and
on the other side, bound by Gorsian shackles, an Imperial witch.
The witch raised yellow, mischievous eyes to Lidia as the Doe closed
the door behind her. And then they looked at the bubble, at the Goblin
Queen that glowed orange inside.
Lidia sat in the chair opposite the prisoner, placing the elf's crystal on
the table between them as if it were any other bag.
— Thank you for coming to meet me, Hilde.

— I had no other choice — protested the witch, her voice hoarse, her
thin white hair shining like faint rays of moonlight.
A sad and disturbed creature, but with a hidden beauty. — Since your
dogs arrested me on false charges...
— You were found in possession of a com-crystal known as
be used by Ophion rebels.
— I had never seen that crystal in my entire life — protested Hilde,
parts of her brown teeth shining. — Someone set me up.
— Of course, of course — replied Lidia, waving her hand. Irithys

watched every movement, still in that orange tone that indicated alertness.
— You can present your case to Rigelus.
The imperial witch had the good sense to look nervous.
—Then why are you here?
Lidia gave Irithys a smile.

— To keep you warm.
The Goblin Queen understood what that meant and assumed
a deep, menacing shade of red.
But the witch let out a hoarse laugh. She was still wearing her Imperial
uniform, the Republic crest worn over her sagging breasts.
— I have nothing to say to you, Lidia.

Lidia crossed one leg over the other. — That's
what we'll see.
Hilde hissed:
— You think you are so powerful, so unattainable.
— Is this part where the speech about how one day you will get revenge
comes in?
— I knew your mother, girl — replied the witch.
Lidia had enough training and self-control to keep her expression neutral,
her voice one of absolute boredom.
— My mother was a witch queen, many people knew her.
— Ah, but I knew her... I flew in her unit on her days.
combat.
Lidia tilted her head.
— Before or after you sold your soul to Flame and Shadow?
— I swore loyalty to Flame and Shadow because of your mother.

Because she was a weakling, a coward who had no desire to punish.
— I believe that my mother and I are different in that respect, then.
Hilde cast her hard gaze at Lidia.

— Better than that disgraceful sister who now claims to be queen.
— Hypaxia is half Flame and Shadow... you owe your loyalty to her,
anyway.
Lidia could feel that Irithys was studying every word. If she could remember
things after seeing it once, could she also remember the conversations she
heard?
— Your mother was an idiot for giving you away — Hilde grumbled.
Lidia raised an eyebrow.

—Was that a compliment?
— Understand as you wish. — The witch showed her rotten teeth in
a smile worthy of nightmares. — You are a born killer... like any real
witch. That girl on the throne has a heart as soft as her mother's. She
will end the entire Valbaran Witch dynasty.
— Ah, my father was a very experienced negotiator — said Lidia,

exaggeratedly admiring the ruby ring on her finger, the stone was as red
as the flames of Irithys. — But enough about me. — She pointed to the
witch, then to the elf.
— Irithys, Queen of the Goblins. Hilde, Grand Witch of the Imperial Clan.
— I know who you are — said Irithys, her voice low, full of contained
hatred. She now floated in the center of the sphere, her body red as
blood. — You put this collar on me.
Hilde smiled again, a smile wide enough to show her darkened gums.
A weaker person would have cowered at such a sight.
— I also had the honor of doing this with the little slut who wore
the crown before you.
Hilde wasn't talking about Irithys' mother, who had never been queen.
No, when the last Goblin Queen died, the succession had passed to a
different family, and Irithys had been the first heir.
A cursed inheritance: she had gained the title and a prison sentence
at the same time. After receiving her crown, not a day had passed when
Rigelus took her to the dungeons.
Lidia said softly:
— Yes, Hilde. We all know how skilled you are. Athalar can thank
you in person for his first halo. But let's discuss why you chose to betray
us.
- I did not do it. — Even with the Gorsian shackles, a crackling energy
emanated from the witch.
Lidia sighed at the ceiling.
— I have other commitments for today, Hilde. Does

Can we speed it up a little?
She didn't warn before patting the top of Irithys' crystal. It melted away,
leaving nothing but air between the witch and the Goblin Queen.
Irithys didn't move. He didn't try to escape or explode. She stood there, a
living, flaming ruby, as if being freed from her crystal after all these years...
Lidia ignored the thought. The voice was as expressionless as his eyes
when he said:
— Let's see if you can be motivational, Your Majesty.
Hilde gave her a hateful look, but didn't flinch or
trembled.
Then Irithys turned to Lidia, her hair intertwining above her head.
- No.
- No?
On the other side of the table, Hilde was still fuming, but was listening
carefully.
Irithys repeated, brave and fearless: —
No.
— It wasn't a request. — Lidia pointed to the witch with her
head. — Burn her hand.
Hilde took her deformed hands off the table, as if that could save her.
Irithys lifted her chin.

— I may even be your prisoner, but I don't need to obey your orders.
— Hilde is a traitor to the Republic...

“That's a lie,” Hilde interrupted.
— You're wasting your compassion on her — Lidia added.
“It's not compassion,” Irithys replied, the ruby flames growing darker, taking
on a wine-like hue. - AND
a matter of honor. There is no honor in attacking a person who cannot defend

themselves, whether they are an enemy or not.
Lidia's upper lip pulled back and she spoke between her teeth: —Burn it.
She.
Irithys glowed violet, like the hottest of flames.
- No.
Hilde laughed heartily.
Lidia said in a calm tone that used to make enemies plead: — I'll ask just one
more time...
— And I will answer a thousand times more: no. On my honor, no.
— You have no honor here. That doesn't mean anything in this place.
— Honor is all I have — Irithys replied, the heat of her indigo flames was strong
enough to warm Lidia's cold hands. — Honor and my name. I will not tarnish or
give up either, no matter what my enemies have done. Or the threats you make,
Doe.
Lidia held the elf's incandescent gaze and found nothing.

nothing more than an unbreakable, unyielding willpower.
Then Lidia tilted her head mockingly at the queen.
And, with a movement of her hand, she activated the magic that Rigelus had given
her during the week. Like an ice ball melting in reverse, the crystal sphere formed
around Irithys from
new.
—Then you are of no use to me — concluded Lidia,
as he took the crystal ball and headed towards the door.
Irithys said nothing, but her flame remained a bright royal blue.
Lidia had just opened the metal door when Hilde called from the table:
— And how do I look?

Lidia cast a cold glance at the imperial witch.
— I suggest you beg Rigelus for mercy. — She didn't wait for the witch to
respond, and left slamming the door.
Clemency. Lidia had had no mercy in her heart two days before, when
she had passed Hilde in the corridors and placed her com-crystal in the witch's
pocket. With Ruhn in the dungeons, no one was on the other end of the phone
anyway. The crystal was, for all intents and purposes, dead. But, in Hilde's
possession, when Mordoc sniffed it out following Lidia's suspicions... the
crystal became priceless.
again.
I could think of no one, other than the asteri themselves, that Irithys could
hate more than the witch who had tattooed her glowing throat. There was no
one Irithys would like to burn more than Hilde.
And yet, the Goblin Queen had refused.

The lady was nowhere to be found when Lidia re-entered the hot, humid
hallway, nor when Lidia placed Irithys back on her pedestal in the center of
the room.
—What about the other prisoners? — demanded Irithys when Lidia walked
away.
Lidia paused, stuffing her hands in her pockets.
— Why should I waste my time trying to convince you to help me with
them?
And indeed, I was running out of time. I had places to go, and soon.
— You had a hell of a time getting me out of here today. For nothing.
Lidia shrugged, then headed towards the exit.

— I know how to recognize a lost battle — he said over his shoulder. —
Enjoy your name and your honor. I hope they are good company within this
crystal ball.
***
Bryce and Nesta walked in tense, tense silence for a long time.
Bryce's feet had started to hurt again, the discomfort creeping up his legs.
Normally, she would have started a conversation to distract herself
I felt uncomfortable, but I knew I shouldn't ask too many questions about
this world, about Nesta's people.
It would raise too many suspicions. If she sought to say as little about
herself and Midgard as possible, then they would probably act the same
way toward their home.
Without warning, Nesta stopped, raising her fist.
Bryce suddenly stopped beside her, and with a glance he noticed
Nesta's blue-gray eyes slowly scanning the tunnel ahead. An icy calm
written across his face.
Bryce muttered,
“What is it?”
Nesta's eyes moved quickly, analyzing
new land.
As Bryce stepped forward, his star illuminated what had stopped the
warrior: the tunnel widened into an enormous chamber, the ceiling so
high that not even Bryce's starlight could reach it. And in the center... the
path descended on both sides, showing only a thin rocky bridge over
what seemed to be an endless abyss.
Bryce knew it wasn't endless just because far below, he could hear
the sound of running water. An underground river that, to make such a
strong sound up there, would have to be huge. Droplets floated in the
darkness, the damp air mixed with a thick, metallic smell... of iron. There
must have been a storage room.
Nesta said, also in a low voice: —

This bridge is the perfect place for an ambush.
- From who? Bryce hissed.
— I haven't lived long enough to know all the horrors of this world, but
I can tell you that dark things tend to grow in dark places. Even more so
in places as old and forgotten as this one.
- Excellent. So how are we going to cross without attracting these dark

things?
— I don't know... I've never been in this tunnel before.
Bryce turned to her, surprised.
— Have you never been here before?

Nesta glared at her.
— No. No one ever came.
Bryce laughed ironically, analyzing the abyss and the bridge in front of him.
No movement, no sounds other than the water running below.
— Who did you piss off so they sent you to get me?
She could have sworn Nesta's mouth curved into a smile.
— On a good day, there would be so many people I could barely count.

But today... I volunteered.
Bryce raised an eyebrow.
- Why?
The silver flame flashed in Nesta's eyes. Bryce felt a shiver run down his
spine. She was fey and, at the same time... not
era.
“Call it intuition,” Nesta replied, and climbed onto the bridge.
***
Bryce did everything in his power not to think about the lack of handrails, the
seemingly endless abyss, and the roaring river.
They had gone halfway across the narrow bridge when they heard a different
noise, almost inaudible due to the rapid roar of the water.
Claws sliding across the stone.
Coming from above and below.
- Let's go. — Nesta picked up the simple but remarkable sword. To the
touch of his hand, silver flames slid down the blade and...
Bryce felt his breath hitch. The sword pulsed, as if all the air around it had
disappeared. It was like Aster, in a way. More than a sword. Just like Nesta
was fae, but more than that.
— What's with your sword...

— Let's go — Nesta repeated, crossing the rest of the bridge.
Bryce composed himself enough to obey, moving as quickly as he dared,
considering the enormous chasm that lay ahead.
he was looking for.
Leather wings fluttered. The claws scraped the stone a few meters ahead.
Bryce threw caution to Hell and ran toward the tunnel entrance, where Nesta
was waving for him to hurry, her sword glowing dimly in her other hand.
Then Bryce's star illuminated the rock that framed the tunnel entrance.
She ran.
A bunch of things surrounded the entrance, smaller than the beasts below the
dungeon, but almost worse. They were rougher and the skin seemed hard like
leather. The beasts resembled some sort of primitive hybrid of a bat and a lizard.
Black tongues swung in the air, between pale, destructive teeth. Like the Kristallos,
born and raised for eons in darkness.
Some of the creatures jumped, diving into the void below, hunting...
The tunnel and bridge rumbled.

Bryce staggered and the fall came frighteningly close. A wave of panic
overshadowed all his senses...
Fae training and grace overcame her, and Bryce could cry, such was the relief
she felt at not having fallen into that void.
Especially when something huge and slimy swung up from below, the size of two
buses.
A gigantic worm, glistening with water and mud.
The mouth full of lined up teeth opened and bit...
Bryce sat down, and the worm caught three of the flying lizards in its mouth,
swallowing them all in a single bite.
Her starlight shone, casting light and shadow across the entire room.
cave.
The creatures on the wall screeched—either from the worm or the light—
slamming from their perches and falling straight into the creature's open mouth.
Another bite, spraying river water and metallic-smelling mud—and it all disappeared
in the worm's throat.
Bryce could only stare.
One movement of the creature's giant body and it would be on top of

Bryce. One bite and she would be swallowed. Starlight would do no good.
The worm had no eyes. It probably moved according to the smell, and
there it was, a quivering dessert on top of that bridge...
A strong, thin hand grabbed Bryce by the armpits and dragged her.
She was overcome by sensations: rocks scraping her body as she
was dragged; light, shadows and flying things screeching; his back burning
from the stones that scratched his skin; the enormous wet body of the
worm as it emerged from the depths again, snatching the beasts away...
She couldn't stop shaking as Nesta dropped her to the ground a safe
distance inside the tunnel. The worm took a few more bites of the air, the
cave shuddering with each powerful thrust. The smell of iron grew stronger;
it was blood. It mixed with the air, with the smell of river water.
Each click of the worm's jaw seemed to rumble through the rock,
through Bryce's bones.
All he could do was watch in silent horror as more creatures
disappeared between those teeth. Then the distinctive smell of blood filled
the air and the worm began to descend, lower and lower and lower. Back
to the river and wherever his refuge was.
Nesta's breathing was as labored as Bryce's, and when Bryce finally

looked at the warrior, he saw that she was already staring at her. Disgust
and something akin to disappointment were on Nesta's pretty face as she
blurted out, "You stuck."
Fury dispelled Bryce's lingering tremors and the stinging on her

scratched skin, and she pushed herself back.
"What the fuck was that thing?"
Nesta looked into the shadows behind Bryce, as if someone was there.
But he replied: — A
Middengard Worm.
— Middengard? — Bryce was startled by the word. - Type...
Midgard? Are they from my world?
As horrifying as the creature was, having another being from his world was... comforting,
in a strange way. And finding comfort in this fact showed the extent of her despair.
“I don't know,” Nesta replied.

— Are they common around here?
Because if they were, it was no wonder the fae were gone from this world.
“No,” Nesta replied, a muscle moving in her jaw. — As far as I know, they are rare. But
I saw the paintings my sister made of one she defeated. I thought it was a bit of an
exaggeration, but the creature is as horrible as she described. — She shook her head, and
the shock turned into coldness and aggression once again. — I didn't know there was more
than one.
— Her eyes scanned Bryce in a warrior's wary assessment. —What kind of power do you
have? What light is this?
Bryce shook his head slowly. — It's light.
Just... light.
The strange and terrible light that had come from another world, the
they once said.
Of this world.
Nesta's eyes lit up.
— To what court were your ancestors loyal?
- I don't know. The ancient fey whose power I carry, Theia, was Starfire. Like me.
— That term doesn't mean anything here. — Nesta pulled Bryce, making her stand up
easily. —But Amren told me what you said about Theia, the queen who went from our world
to
your.
Bryce brushed the dust and rocks off his back and ass. And your ego.
— My ancestor, yes.
— Theia was High Queen of these lands. Before leaving -
Nesta explained.
- She was? —Not just a leader on Midgard, but a powerful ruler there as well. Her
ancestor had been High Queen. Bryce carried not only Theia's starlight, but her
royal connections with that world. Which could put her in hot water with
these people if they felt threatened by Bryce's lineage and believed she
could claim her right to the throne.
Nesta's eyes flicked to the star on Bryce's chest, then to the shadows
behind her. But she decided to leave the matter aside, turning towards the
tunnel in front of them.
— If we find something else that tries to eat us — said the warrior —
don't stare like a scared deer. The options are to run or face it.
Randall would like this female. It made him sad to think about it. But
then he replied:
— I've been doing this my whole life. I don't need a class.
"Then don't make me risk my life to get you out of harm's way next
time," Nesta protested coldly.
“I didn't ask you to save me,” Bryce grumbled.
But Nesta had already started walking through the tunnel again, without
wait for Bryce or his star to light the way.
“You've already gotten us into a lot of trouble,” said the girl.
warrior without looking back —, stay close.
The shadows watched him again.

Baxian and Ruhn had passed out, and Hunt thought he was unconscious too, but... there
he was. Observing a shadow that watched him back. It was behind the shelf where the
instruments that Pollux and the Falcon had used on him rested.
Lidia hadn't shown up that day. He didn't know if this was a good sign. He didn't dare ask
Ruhn what he thought. Hunt supposed that, of all of them, he should be the one to know if this
was a good sign. I had lived this same shit for years.
But he should know a lot of other things too.

Hunt could no longer feel his hands or shoulders. But the itch in
his wings, which regenerated little by little, continued. Like ants streaming down your spine.
No matter how much he squirmed, it wouldn't go away.
He should have known better than to mess with the archangels, with the asteri. He should
have warned Bryce more strongly, should have tried harder to get her off this dangerous path.
Isaiah had tried to convince him many centuries ago and Hunt hadn't listened... now he
had to live with the consequences. I should have learned my lesson.
His blood cooled as it drained from his body, dripping onto the floor.
But he hadn't learned a damn thing, it seemed. It was impossible to

face the asteri and their hierarchies and emerge victorious. He should
have known that.
The shadow smiled at him.
Then Hunt smiled back. And the shadow said:
— You would do well in Hell.
The agony was like a drug, and Hunt didn't even flinch at the familiar
male voice. One he had already heard in another dream, in another life.
“Apollion,” he growled. It wasn't Death, after all.

He tried not to let disappointment overwhelm him.
“You are in deplorable condition,” purred the Moat Prince. He remained
hidden in the shifting shadows. The demon prince breathed in, as if
smelling the air. — What delicious pain you are feeling.
— I’d love to share.

Apollion let out a terrifying, soft laugh.
— It seems to me that your good humor remains intact. Even with that
halo tattooed again on your forehead.
Hunt smiled wildly.
— I had the honor of being tattooed by Rigelus' hand this time.
— Interesting that he did it himself, instead of using an imperial witch.
Do you feel the difference?
Hunt lowered his chin.
— This... burns. The witch's halo felt like cold iron. This burns like acid.
— He had just finished speaking when a thought appeared in his mind. —
Bryce. Is she... is she with you? —If they had hurt her, if Apollion had even
suggested that...
— No. — The shadow seemed to blink. - Why?
Hunt was overcome with horror, colder than ice.
— Bryce didn't make it to Hell?
Where would it be then? Had I arrived somewhere, or was I traveling
through time and space, trapped forever...?
He must have made some pitiful sound, because Apollion said:
— Wait a little before you freak out, Athalar.

And disappeared.
Hunt couldn't breathe. Maybe it was the weight of his own body pressing
down on his lungs, but... Bryce hadn't gotten there. She hadn't made it to
fucking Hell, and he was stuck there, and...
Apollion appeared again, with a second shadow at his side.
from him. Taller and thinner, with eyes like blue opals.
— Where's Bryce? — hissed the Gorge Prince.
— She came after you. — Hunt's voice trailed off.
Beside him, Ruhn grumbled, shifting.
— Damn, she came after you, Aidas.
The Princes of Hell looked at each other, a silent conversation
unfolding between them. Hunt pressed:
— You both said she should come after you. They told us all those lies
about armies, about wanting to help and prepare it...
“Will it be possible,” Aidas said to his brother, ignoring Hunt for

complete —, after all...?
— Don’t romanticize — warned Apollion.
—The star must have guided her — replied Aidas.
“Please,” Hunt cut in, not caring that he was begging, “tell me where she
is.”
Baxian mumbled, regaining consciousness.
Aidas said in a low voice: — I
have a suspicion, but I cannot tell you, Athalar, so that Rigelus cannot
extract this information. Although he probably already came to the same
conclusion.
“Fuck you,” Hunt swore.
But Apollion said to his brother: —
We need to leave.
— So why watch me from the shadows all this time? Hunt asked.
— To make sure we can trust you when the time comes.
- To do what? — Hunt complained.

— What you were born to do... fulfill the task for which your father brought
you to this world — concluded Apollion before disappearing, leaving Aidas
standing alone in front of the prisoners.
The shock rose in Hunt, cushioned by the weight of an old pain that had not
been invited to surface.
- I do not have father.
Aidas had a sad expression as he stepped out of the shadows.
— You spent too much time asking the wrong questions.
—And what the fuck does that mean?
Aidas shook his head.
— The black crown that is on your forehead again is not a mere punishment
from the Asteri. It has existed for millennia.
— Tell me the fucking truth for once...
— Stay alive, Athalar.
The Moat Prince followed his brother, disappearing into embers and
darkness.
***
Tharion woke up with a throbbing headache that resonated through every inch
of his body.
From the smell in his room, Holstrom had slept there, probably on the floor,
but the room was empty. Squinting in pain, Tharion entered the main room to
find Holstrom and Flynn on the couch, while Declan and Marc held their coffees
at the small table next to the window, overlooking the ring. Ariadne was sitting in
a chair, reading a book; his behavior contrasted with that of the female who had
roasted the lions the night before.
There was no sign of the Fendyr heiress. Or the elves. Maybe that had been
a hallucination.
— Good morning — he mumbled, closing his eyes due to the brightness of the
environment.
No one answered.
All good. I would deal with them in a few moments, after breakfast.
He walked to the bar across the room—the glow of the muted television
causing a stab of pain in his left eye—and, on autopilot, turned on the
coffee machine. Tharion stuck a cup under the jet and pressed a button
that vaguely resembled the main one.
— You really look like shit — said Flynn in a slow voice as Tharion
inhaled the aroma of coffee. — Ari, of course, is beautiful as always.
The dragon kept her attention on the book, ignoring the fae lord.
She didn't move a single muscle, as if she wanted them to forget she
was there. As if that were even possible.
But Flynn refocused his attention on Tharion.
— Why didn't you come to us for help?
Tharion took a sip of coffee, grimacing as the
Hot liquid burned his mouth. — It's
too early for this kind of conversation.
“No shit,” Holstrom said. — We would have helped you. Why did you
come here?
Tharion couldn't hide the irritation in his voice.
— Because the Queen of Rio would have finished you off. I didn't
want to have this burden on my conscience.
— And this is better? — asked Ithan.
Flynn added, “Now
you're stuck here, having to put up with whatever shit she comes up
with, not to mention the crap she's been offering in return. How can you
be so stupid?
Tharion glared at him.
—As if you can talk about stupid ideas, Flynn.
Flynn's eyes flickered with a rare gleam of powerful
fae lord peeking beneath the laid-back appearance.
—Not even I would sell my soul to the Viper Queen, Ketos.
Holstrom added:
— There has to be some way to get you out of this. You deserted
Blue Cut. I could very well desert...
— Look — Tharion cut in, through clenched teeth — I know that

You have a savior complex, Holstrom...
- He is going to screw it up. You are my friend, you have no right to ignore
trap you're getting yourself into.
Tharion couldn't decide if he wanted to glare at the wolf or hug him. He
took another sip of the scalding coffee. He welcomed the burning in his throat.
Ithan said, his voice hoarse: —

There's only us left, we only have each other now.
Declan, from his seat at the table, added quietly: —
Everything's fucked up. Ruhn, Athalar, Bryce... — Marc supported a
comforting hand on his shoulder.
“I know,” said Tharion, “and Cormac is dead.
- What? — Flynn spat the coffee back into the cup.
Tharion updated them on what happened in the lab, and realized that,
damn... some of that poison would go down right then and there.
When he finished explaining his deal with the Viper Queen, everyone fell
silent again.
Until Flynn said,
“Okay. Next steps: we need to get to the Freighter of the Deep... and then
to Pangera. To the Eternal City. — He nodded to Tharion. — Before Sabine's
ambush, we had just decided that we were going to come looking for you, to
get you out of all this shit and to see if you could put us in contact with the
sea creatures on the ship.
— The Viper will never let him go — said Ari,

breaking your silence.
The males stopped for a second, looking at her, as if they had actually
forgotten that there was a dragon among them.
Marc pursed his mouth, realizing how much she had heard.
But Flynn asked, eyebrow raised, “And you're a Viper
expert now?”
“I'm an expert on assholes,” Ari replied softly, looking at Flynn as if he
were on that list. — And if you ask her to release him, you'll only get her to
arrest him more willingly.
"She's right," Tharion added. — I can think of one

way to contact Commander Sendes...
— No — said Ithan — —, we all go.
I'm moved — said Tharion, placing the coffee on the counter behind
him. - In truth. But it's not that easy, it's not just saying I'm deserting and
walking out the door.
Ithan got angry, but Sigrid appeared at the bathroom door, with steam
coming out. She must have been taking a shower.
—What would be needed?
Tharion looked at the female. Definitely an alpha, with that firm stance
and bright, fearless eyes.
— The Viper only cares about business — said the merman.
“You're rich,” Ari pointed out to Flynn.
“But with her, it's not about money,” Marc replied. — She already has
so much that she doesn't even know what to do with it. But I think I would
make a switch.
Tharion frowned, looking down the hall, at the door that led to the Viper
Queen's private quarters.
— Who is with her now?
“A female,” Ari replied, getting up and walking down the hall. He went
to the door of his room and said, over his shoulder: — A pretty blonde in
an imperial uniform. — The dragon didn't say anything else before closing
and locking the bedroom door.
“We need to get out of here,” Declan said quietly now. —,
- What happened? asked Flynn. Declan was already

picking up his gun and Marc was already standing up with feline grace.
Tharion peered into the hallway in time to see the door open. The Viper
Queen, dressed in a blue silk tracksuit and white high-top sneakers, walked
toward them, gold hoop earrings dangling from her short black hair.
— Just a moment — she said to whoever was in the room behind her
— your type of poison is down there. I'll be back in a minute.
Tharion stiffened as the snake shapeshifter entered the room, taking
in his friends.
“You still have some of Sabine's blood on your hands,” he said slowly to
Flynn.
Everyone stared at her. But it was the heiress Fendyr who stood up and
said:
— You are no better than the Astronomer, with all these people
trapped here, drugged and...
The Viper Queen cut her off:
— Put that crest down, little Fendyr. — She analyzed Sigrid, from her wet
hair to her loose clothes. — It's free to stay here, but I'll charge you if you want
new clothes.
“Free them both,” Sigrid demanded, her voice like thunder. - A
dragon and merman... free them both.
Tharion did not allow himself to harbor hopes for the alpha's ferocity,
not when he heard the Viper Queen's laughter.
- And why would i do that? They bring a lot of customers. — She gave
Tharion a mocking smile as she walked out the door, to get whatever drug the
person down the hall wanted. — When they're not ending the game after a few
minutes.
Tharion got angry, crossing his arms. But as soon as the Viper Queen
closed the door and disappeared outside, dry footsteps were heard in the
corridor.
Dec and Flynn drew their guns. Holstrom had his claws bared. Tharion also
displayed his claws, tensing his entire body.
“Put it down,” said a cold female voice. Panic extinguished any trace of
torpor in Tharion.
“Holy shit,” Flynn muttered.
— If you open this door — the Doe threatened gently — the
Prince Ruhn dies.
Bryce and Nesta walked through the tunnel for hours, the tense silence filling
the space between them again. Worse than before.
Bryce realized it was also a feature of interactions with fae she knew from
her own world. She didn't know why she was somehow disappointed when
she realized this.
They paused and Nesta wordlessly tossed a canteen of water to Bryce,
along with a dark loaf of bread.
“You brought food,” Bryce commented, his mouth full of slightly sweet,
moist bread. — That's strange, considering you intended to take me back to
the cell.
Nesta took a drink from her canteen.
— I had a feeling I could spend some time chasing you.
— Long enough to need to stop and eat? — Their gazes met, Nesta's
silver eyes gazing into Bryce's starlight.
— We don't know these caves, I prepared myself for any eventuality.
—Not for the worm, apparently.

— You're alive, aren't you?
Bryce couldn't help but laugh.
- Fair.
They didn't talk anymore after that.
It was possible that they were heading towards a dead end, miles and
hours wasted. But the tunnel seemed to... have a purpose. And Bryce
wasn't going to ask questions about the potential futility of that journey, lest
she run the risk of Nesta deciding to try to trap her back in the cave.
One way or another, he was getting what he wanted.

***
Bryce was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice the fork in the tunnel
until she almost passed the part that turned right. She stopped and, realizing
that she no longer heard Nesta's footsteps behind her, deduced that the
warrior did the same.
Bryce pulled the collar of her shirt down to reveal more of her starlight
and illuminate the two paths before them. To the left, the tunnel continued
to look ancient, with rough
stone walls curving into the darkness. To the right... around the natural
arch, a series of stars and planets have been
carved, crowned at their apex by a large setting or rising sun. Bryce's
star shined even brighter as she stood in front of him, guiding her there.
I could vaguely make out more scenes of violence and

bloodshed covering the walls inside the tunnel.
— I'll make a guess: let's go to the right. — Bryce sighed, covering his
star again with his t-shirt.
“Very well,” Nesta said, and walked toward the arch.
Bryce rushed forward before Nesta could avoid it, grabbing the warrior
by the collar of her shirt. With a quick turn, Nesta was on top of her, her
sword at Bryce's throat. I couldn't believe metal could be so cold.
Bryce raised his hands, trying not to move too much, lest he put his skin
in more contact with that horrible blade than necessary.
- Do not look. She nodded as discreetly as she could at the carvings

in the tunnel just beyond the arch.
Nesta didn't lower the blade, the icy metal seemed to pulse against
Bryce's skin, as if the sword were alive and conscious.
But Nesta's gaze turned to where Bryce had indicated.
- What is that?
“Those carvings,” Bryce whispered. — Where I come from, my job is
to analyze ancient art, study it and sell it, and... never mind, that's not
really relevant. I just want to say that I've seen a lot of old fae artwork, and
those things on the wall... they're a warning. So if you want to get impaled
on a bunch of rusty spears, go ahead.
Nesta blinked, her head tilted, more feline than fey. But he lowered his
sword.
Bryce tried not to gasp in relief as the cold metal peeled away from his
skin, his soul. I never wanted to feel anything like that again.
Nesta didn't know or care about the impact of the sword on Bryce, she
was examining the carvings. Those who were closest to them.
A female, evidently of fae nobility, in ornate robes and sophisticated

jewelry, stared at them from the wall. As if he were addressing an
audience, welcoming newcomers to the tunnel. She was young and
beautiful, but she had a presence that seemed majestic. Long hair flowed
around her like a silent river, framing her delicate heart-shaped face.
Bryce put aside the last of his fear and translated the inscription: —
Her name
was Silene.
Nesta examined the writing beneath the image.
— Is that all you say?
Bryce shrugged.
— Old-fashioned faerie. Lots of fancy titles and lineages. You know
how they liked to boast.
Nesta smiled. Bryce pointed to the embossed panels that continued

ahead.
“The warning is in the story she's telling here,” Bryce said.
There were many corpses carved into the wall, a battlefield

stretching ahead. Crucifixes hung over the battlefield, with bodies
hanging from them. Large, dark beasts with scales and claws fed on
screaming victims, and Bryce realized they were just like the ones in
the pit below her cell, which made her shudder. Bloodied eagles were
scattered across stone altars.
— By the Mother of heaven — murmured Nesta.

"Those holes in the bodies over there... the ones that look like
wounds... I'll bet you anything they have mechanisms for firing some
kind of weapon at passersby," Bryce said. — As a sick “artistic” way of
making the viewer feel the pain and terror of these fae victims.
Bryce could have sworn that something like surprise and shame—
which perhaps even the warrior hadn't noticed—smeared Nesta's face.
— What do you think we should do to pass, then? - It was

a calculated question. A test.
There's no way Bryce would get stuck again. She raised one hand.
— Give me something heavy, I'll see if I can activate the mechanism.
***
Nesta sighed, as if irritated again. Bryce turned to her, about to ask if

she had any better ideas, when Nesta raised an arm. The silver flame
enveloped his fingers and Bryce took a step back.
It was fire, but at the same time it wasn't fire. It was as if ice turned
to flame, which flickered in Nesta's eyes as
she placed her hand on the stone wall. Silver fire rippled over the
carvings.
The mechanisms were activated. And they failed. Rusty metal
screws shot out of the walls. Or they tried. They barely made it past the
wall before they turned to dust.
Nesta's power shuddered through the walls, disappearing into the
darkness. Faint clicks and whistles lost their power in the dark; the
sound of the traps turned to ash.
Nesta met Bryce's gaze. The fire that enveloped your hand
went out, but the silver flame still flickered in his eyes.
— You have my gratitude. — That's all Nesta said before moving
on.
***
Later, they had another dinner of hard cheese and more dark bread,
and found a small alcove in the tunnel wall to rest. Bryce's starlight still
provided the only illumination, dimmed by his t-shirt. It was cold enough
that she looked enviously at Nesta's dark cloak, wrapped tightly around
the warrior.
She distracted herself by looking at the carvings on the walls: Fae

had glowing bits of starlight in their upraised hands and were kneeling
before impossibly tall humanoids dressed in robes. Magic, an offering
to the crowned creatures before them.
One of the beings reached out to the nearest fae, its fingers stretching
toward the light it offered.
Bryce's stomach dropped as she noticed that, behind the supplicant
fey, chained humans lay prostrate on the floor, their crudely carved
faces in stark contrast to the unblemished, unearthly beauty of the fey.
Another sick art: humans were little more than stone and earth
compared to the fae and their divine masters. It wasn't even worth the
effort to carve them. They were present only for the fae to exert their
power over them, to crush the humans beneath their heels.
Rigelus's voice sounded faint in Bryce's memory. The Asteri once

handed humans over to the Vanir so they would have someone to rule, to
keep them from thinking they were no better off, all of them enslaved to the
Asteri. This false feeling of superiority and ownership persisted on Midgard.
And it seemed like it existed in this world too.
Nesta finished eating the cheese, chewing it to the rind, and

he asked, without looking at Bryce:
—Does your star always shine like this?
“No,” he replied, swallowing the bread. —But down here it looks like it.
- Why?
— That's what I wanted to find out: what's leading me to this tunnel.
Why are you leading me to him?
— Why did you end up in our world.
Rhysand or the others should have told Nesta everything before
sending her after Bryce, who pointed to the tunnel and the ancient carvings.
— What place is this, anyway?

— I already told you, we don't know. Until you passed the beasts, not
even Rhys knew this tunnel existed. And I certainly didn't know that art like
this existed here.
—And Rhysand is... your king?
Nesta snorted.
— He would like to be. But not. AND the Grand Lord of the Court
Night.

—So he serves a king?
— We don't have kings here. Only seven courts, each governed
by a High Lord. To the times with a High Lady at his side.
A stone slid into the shadows. Bryce turned to her, but...
there was nothing. Just darkness.
She noticed Nesta watching her closely. Nesta asked, “Why didn't
you let me be impaled sooner?” I could have let myself fall into a trap
and run away.
— I have no reason to wish for your death.
—And yet you escaped from the cell.

— I know how interrogations tend to end.
—No one would torture you.
—Not yet, you mean.
Nesta didn't respond. When she heard another noise in the
darkness, Bryce turned her head and found Nesta staring at her once
again.
- What is that? asked Bryce softly.
Nesta's eyes glowed like a cat's in the dark.
— Only the shadows.
Tharion knew that this would not end well. Not with Flynn and Dec pointing
their weapons at the Doe, Marc's claws gleaming and ready to harm. Not
with Holstrom crouched, teeth bared, hunched over in front of Sigrid. The
Fendyr heiress looked at them all, sizing them up predatorily, understanding
the threat but not knowing what it was.
What a beautiful shit. It was up to him to be the voice of reason.

Then Tharion did what he did best: he put on the smile of the person he
once was and walked up to Tristan Flynn.
He rested one of his fingers, with his claw showing, on the barrel of the
fae lord's gun.
— Calm down — calmed Tharion We are in neutral territory. —,
Not even Lidia would be stupid enough to harm any of you here. — He
winked at the Doe, even though, inside, he was shaking. - You would be?
The Doe's face showed no emotion, but she lowered her chin.
Sigrid took a step forward.

- Who are you?
The Doe's golden eyes went to the wolf. Your nostrils
they inflated discreetly.
— I think — she muttered to herself — that the right question is who are
you?
“It's none of your business,” Ithan cut in.
The Doe looked at him, demonstrating that, despite having her suspicions,
that was not a priority for her. Yet. She just said to the Fendyr heiress: — A
little privacy, please.
Holstrom is growing.
— Whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of her.
Declan said softly:
“Holstrom, maybe she can... stay with the dragon for a few
moments.
Ithan looked indignantly at Declan, but then seemed to relent. If they
would talk about Ruhn, if the only way to get the Doe to talk was with Sigrid
away...
Tharion joined the conversation:
— Ari locked her door, and I'm pretty sure that means she wants to be
alone. — He pointed to the door next to Ari's room. —But you can go to my
room.
Sigrid laughed mockingly.
— I'm not a puppy that you can send...
“Please,” Declan begged with a helpless gesture.
Marc placed a gentle hand on his shoulder again.
There was a moment, then, when Ithan and Sigrid looked at each other.
Tharion could have sworn there was some kind of battle of wills between them.
Sigrid got angry and then spat: —

Okay. — And headed towards Tharion's room.
The goblins flew after her, but Lidia stopped them.
— You three... wait.
Sasa, Malana and Rithi turned, wide-eyed at the Doe. But Lidia didn't
speak again until Sigrid knocked on Tharion's bedroom door. Maybe a little
too petulant.
Tharion didn't fail to notice Ithan's sigh.
Lidia looked at her watch, as if calculating how much time was left until
the Viper Queen returned, then said to Flynn and
Dec:
— I went looking for you, but there was no one at your... house. —
His tone showed enough disdain to make clear what he thought of their
house on Rua do Arqueiro. —But I knew that Ketos had defected and
come to the Meat Market seeking refuge... so I figured you guys would be
hiding here too.
— Can you imagine? — demanded Declan. — Or did someone tell on us?

— Don't think so — replied the Doe, crossing her arms.
— You are extremely predictable.
“Well, you're fucking wrong,” Flynn replied, still
without lowering the gun. — We didn't come here to hide.
Declan coughed, as if to say This is the lie you chose
tell? Marc hid a smile.
— I don't care why you're here — replied the Doe. - We do not have
much time. Ruhn's life depends on you listening to me.
— What the fuck did you do to Ruhn? — Flynn cut in.

Tharion could have sworn something like pain appeared on the Doe's
face.
—Ruhn is alive, as are Athalar and Argos.
—Bryce? — Ithan asked, his voice hoarse.
- I don't know. She... — The Doe shook her head.
But Declan asked, “Was
Baxian involved?” The Hound from Hell?
Before Lidia could respond, Flynn demanded to know,
“Why did you come here?” — His voice broke. — To arrest us?
Rubbing failure in our faces?
The Doe turned to the fae lord and, yes, what shone on her face was
pain.
— I'm here to help you rescue Ruhn.
Even Tharion hesitated.
“This is a trap,” said Declan.
— It's not a trap. — The Doe analyzed them, desolate. —Athalar,
Baxian, and Ruhn were imprisoned in the dungeons beneath the Asteri
palace. The Hammer and the Falcon torture them all
daily. They…” A muscle tensed in her thin jaw. — Your friends didn't
say anything. But I don't know how long the asteri will enjoy their
suffering.
— I'm sorry — replied Declan — but aren't you their main interrogator?
The Doe turned an abnormally perfect face toward the fae warrior.
— The world knows me that way, yes. I don't have time to explain
everything. But I need your help, Declan Emmet. I'm one of the few
people on Midgard who can enter those dungeons without being
questioned. And I'm the only one who can let them out, but I need you
to help hack the palace cameras. I know you've done this before.
“Yes,” murmured Dec. —, but even with the cameras

hacked, our latest plans didn't end very well. Ask Cormac how our last
big adventure turned out.
The words hit Tharion like stones. The memory of the faerie prince
sacrificing himself came to mind. In an instant, Cormac was dead...
— It only failed because Rigelus knew they would come — said the
Doe, almost gently. — Celestina ratted them out.
Shock ran through the room. But Marc muttered to Declan, “I
told you: archangels are disgusting.
Flynn raised his hands.
— Is it just me or does anyone else feel like they’re traveling after
smoke something bad?
Tharion rubbed his face.
— There are two of us, I think. — Flynn laughed, but Tharion
controlled himself, clearing his throat before continuing to say to the
Doe: — Help me understand a few things: you are the Asteri's greatest
interrogator and torturer of spies. You and your feral wolves tormented
us endlessly not long ago, here, in this city. You are, and forgive me for
being frank, practically evil incarnate. But he's asking for our help to
free our friends. And you hope we don't find it strange?
She looked at them all for a long moment, and Tharion had
the good sense to sit down before she says, calmly:
— I'm Agent Daybright.
- Lie! — Flynn barked, pointing the gun at her.
new.
Daybright, who was at the top of the Asteri's innermost circles.
Daybright, who knew of the Asteri's plans before they even acted.
Daybright, the most vital link in the Rebels' information chain...
“She smells like Ruhn,” Ithan murmured. They all blinked, looking at him. The
wolf sniffed again. — It's very weak. Smell it... it's there.
To Tharion's shock, the Doe's cheeks became

slightly colored.
— He and I...
“I don't believe that for a fucking second,” he protested.
Flynn. —She must have rolled in his blood in the dungeons.
Her teeth flashed as she growled, the first hint of a crack in that cold exterior.
— I would never hurt him. Everything I've done recently, everything I'm doing
now, is to keep Ruhn alive. Do you know how difficult it is to keep Pollux away?
Convince him to take it slow? Do you have any idea what this is like? — She
shouted the last part to Flynn, who took a step back. Lidia was breathing hard,
shaking.
— I need to get him out of there. If you don't help me, his death will be your fault.
And I will destroy you, Tristan Flynn.
Flynn shook his head slowly, confusion and astonishment written all over his
face.
The Doe turned to Tharion, and he met her desperate gaze.
— I made sure the Deep Freighter would be there to pick you up after Agent
Silverbow sacrificed himself, trying to make the asteri go down with him; I informed
Commander Sendes that Ruhn, Athalar, and Baxian had been captured, and that
Bryce was missing. It was I who kept Rigelus from you, stopped the asteri from
killing anyone who had been important to Ruhn, Bryce, or Athalar.
— Or was it you — said Tharion — who got the information from the real
Agent Daybright and now you've come here to set a trap for us too.
— Believe what you want — said the Doe, and her shoulders slumped in
true exhaustion. For a moment, Tharion felt sorry for her. —But I will release
them in three days. And if I don't have your help, it won't work.
— Even if we believe in you — pondered Declan, we have families —,

that the asteri would kill without thinking twice, people we love.
—Then use these three days to hide them. But the more
people know, the more likely we are to be discovered.
“You can't be serious,” Flynn told Declan. —
Are you believing in this monster?
Declan looked into the Doe's eyes, and Tharion knew he was
considering everything you saw there.
— Makes sense, Flynn. Everything Ruhn told us about
Daybright... makes sense.
—Does Ruhn know what you are? — Flynn questioned.
Lidia ignored him and instead looked at Tharion.
— I need you too, Ketos.
Tharion shrugged with an indifference he didn't really feel.
— Unfortunately, I can't leave here.

— Find a way. I need you to be my ally and
defender on the Freighter of the Deep after the rescue.
Holstrom disse:
— Apparently, the Viper Queen is your trafficker. Why don't you ask her
to free Tharion?
Lidia held his gaze with an authority that belied her stag shifter heritage.
— Why don't you ask, Ithan Holstrom?

There was something in her voice that Tharion couldn't quite understand.
A provocation, perhaps. A challenge.
— Does Ruhn know? — insisted Flynn.
— Yes — replied the Doe — he, Athalar and Bryce know.

Baxian, no.
Flynn's throat rose and fell again.
— You lied to Ruhn.
“We lied to each other,” she replied, emotion shining in her golden
eyes. — Our identities should not be revealed. We both... went too far.
— Why bother saving them? — Declan asked. — Ruhn and Hunt are
worthless to Ophion, other than the fact that they are good fighters. And
Argos has no connection whatsoever with Ophion.
— Hunt is valuable to Bryce Quinlan and activating his power.

Baxian Argos is a powerful warrior and great spy. It is therefore valuable
to all of us.
— And Ruhn? — asked Ithan with raised eyebrows.
— Ruhn is valuable to me — replied the Doe, leaving no room for
doubt. —At dawn two days from now, a skiff will be waiting for you in
Ionia Harbor, at the very end of the northern pier. Climb on it and the
captain will take you a few kilometers out to sea.
Throw this in the water and wait.
The Doe threw a small white stone to Tharion.
He had seen one like it before, that day in the sea near Ydra. She
had thrown one of those into the water and the Deep Freighter had
appeared.
She must have seen the shock on his face, because she
said, “I summoned the ship that day after what happened in Ydra.
Throw this rock into the ocean and the Deep Freighter will return and
take you to Pangera.
Silence dominated the room.
Lidia looked at the goblins squatting on Flynn's neck and said:
— I have questions for you three.

- For us? — Sasa squeaked, hiding behind Flynn's left ear. His flame
illuminated her, turning her skin a bright red.
Lidia continued:
— About your queen.

—Irithys? asked Malana, glowing a deep violet hue. - Where...
— I know where she is — Lidia announced calmly. However, to his

surprise, Tharion noticed that her hands were shaking. —But I want to know
what you know about her. Of your temperament.
—Where do the asteri keep her? — demanded Sasa, getting
incandescent with rage.
Lidia raised her chin.
— Answer my questions and I will tell you.
“We only know about her through rumors,” said Rithi, taking her head away from her.
behind Flynn's right ear. —She is noble and courageous...
— Is she trustworthy? asked Lidia.
Rithi ducked behind Flynn's ear again, but Sasa
replied:
— She is our queen, she is honor in the form of an elf.

Lidia looked at her coldly.
— I know many rulers who do not embody this virtue at all.
Tharion could only stare at the Doe... Agent Daybright. Their... ally.
- What else? — asked Lidia.

— That's all we know — said Malana. Now tell —, everything we heard.
us: where is she?
Lidia smiled a little.
—Would you run there to free her?
"Don't patronize them," Flynn replied with rare seriousness. The goblins
huddled closer to him.
To Tharion's shock, Lidia tilted her head.
- Sorry. Your courage and loyalty are commendable. I wish I had a
thousand like you at my disposal.
— To Hell with your praise — replied Sasa, his flame
shining brightly. - You promised...
—The Asteri are keeping her in their palace.
- Furthermore! — Sasa screamed, burning again.
— Then you should have negotiated better.
Tharion tensed. This female could be an ally, but damn, she was too
difficult.
In the furious silence that followed, the Doe walked to the door.
She stopped before opening it and didn't turn around when she said to everyone:
— I know you don't trust me. I don't blame them. It's a sign that I one
did my job very well. But...
She looked over her shoulder and Tharion saw her swallow hard.
— Ruhn and Athalar are in danger. Rigelus is, right now, debating
which of them should die. It all comes down to the impact this will have
on Quinlan. But once he makes up his mind, I won't be able to do
anything to stop it. So I…” His voice trailed off. - I beg. Before it's too
late. Help me do this. Find a way out of this situation with the Viper
Queen. — He glanced at Tharion, then looked at Declan. — Be ready at
any time to hack the Eternal Palace cameras. — And finally, he looked
at them all. —And, for Luna's sake, be at the dock in two days.
With that, she left. For a long moment, neither of them could speak.
“Well, Flynn,” Declan said finally, his voice hoarse, “it looks like your
wish came true.
The water ran fast, echoing through the cave and spraying Bryce's
face, the drops so cold they felt like kisses of ice.
The strange carvings continued there, showing great fae battles,
love relationships and the births of children.
Showing a masked queen, crown on her head, with instruments in
one hand and standing in front of an adoring crowd. Behind her, an
enormous palace rose atop the mountain, toward the heavens,
winged horses gliding among the clouds. There was no doubt that it
was a religious iconography of his divine right to rule. Behind the
mountaintop palace, a lush archipelago spread in the distance,
depicted with remarkable detail and skill.
Scenes from a blessed land, a prosperous civilization. One of the

bas-reliefs was so similar to the frieze of the fae male forging a sword
in the Crescent City Ballet that Bryce almost choked. The last carving
before the river was transitional: faerie king and queen sitting on their
thrones, a mountain behind them — different from the one on which
the palace stood — with three stars just above. A different kingdom,
then. An elderly High Lord and High Lady, Nesta had suggested
before they approached the river.
He had not commented on the lower part of the drawings, which showed
the chaos behind their thrones, a kind of underworld. Humanoid figures
writhed in pain amid what looked like stalactites and scale-covered beasts
with enormous mouths — either past enemies that had been conquered or
an indication of what would happen to those who did not bow to the rulers.
Suffering extended everywhere, lasting even beneath the archipelago

and the palace on the top of the mountain.
Even there, in paradise, death and evil existed. A common theme in
Midgardian art as well, which was often accompanied by the caption: Et in
Avallen ego.
Even in Avallen, I am present.
A promise whispered by Death. Another version of memento mori. A
reminder that death was always, always lurking.
Even on the blessed faerie island of Avallen.
Perhaps all the ancient art that glorified the idea of memento mori had
been brought to Midgard by these people.
Maybe she was thinking too much about this shit that, at that moment,
didn't matter at all. Especially when there was an impassable river in front of
him.
Bryce and Nesta looked down at the fast-running waterfall, the night-
black waters flowing deep into the caves. The smell of iron was strong there,
probably because they were now closer to the river than before. It didn't
matter. All that mattered was the fact that the tunnel continued on the other
side, and the space was large enough that it was impossible to jump.
“Now would be a great time for your winged friends to find us,” Bryce
murmured. Her star shone ahead, dimly, but still pointing the way to the other
side of the river.
Nesta glanced over her shoulder.

— You crossed out of the cell. —So the shadows had told Nesta and the
others everything. — Can't you do it again?
— I, um... I was really tired after that. — I hated showing any kind of
weakness, but I saw no other way around the situation. — I'm still recovering.
— Surely your magic should be back by now. You even managed to use
a little against me before everything fell apart.
And that star in your chest continues to shine. There must still be some
magic left in you.
— I always managed to make it shine — Bryce confessed — even a long
time before I had real powers. — For a few moments, Bryce considered
telling Nesta how he understood the depth of his power, how he could have
even more if someone fueled it. Just so that the warrior knew that she was
not an incompetent who fought in front of the enemy, whether he was a giant
worm or not.
But he would end up revealing more of his abilities than would otherwise be the case.
considered prudent.
— Can't you, um... cross? — Bryce asked Nesta.
“I've never tried,” Nesta admitted. — My powers are

unique among the High Fae.
— High Fae? Compared to...normal fae?
Nesta shrugged.
— They use this thing about Grão to sound more important than they
actually are.
Bryce's mouth curved upward.
— They look like the fae from my world. — She tilted her head.
—But you are a High Fae. You... talk about them as if it weren't.
“I'm new to the fae nobility,” Nesta said, turning her focus to the river. —
I was born human and was transformed into a High Fae against my will. —
She sighed. - It's a long story. But I've been living in faerie lands for a few
years now. Many things are still strange to me.
“I know how you feel,” Bryce replied. — My mother is human and my

father is fae. I have lived my entire life between the two worlds.
Nesta nodded without paying much attention.

— None of this will help us cross the river.

Bryce assessed his companion. If Nesta was human and became
fae—however that was possible—she might still have sympathy for
humans. Maybe she understood what it was like to feel powerless and
scared in a world created to oppress and kill her...
Or perhaps she had been sent to gain Bryce's favor and trust by
working for someone who proclaimed himself a High Lord. It was
possible that everything that was said in the tunnels was a lie. And she
had enough power to be called upon to evaluate the Horn on Bryce's
back...it wasn't a helpless little lamb.
— Do you want to swim? — Bryce asked the warrior, kneeling down
to stick one of his hands in the river. She hissed as she felt the ice-cold
water.
Excellent. Just... great.
She frowned at the fast-flowing dark water, illuminated by her star.
Smooth white pebbles shone brightly beneath the surface. Lots of
intensity.
Bryce looked up at his star. It shone even more brightly. She stood
up and wiped her cold, wet hand on the thigh of her leggings. The star
became dimmer.
- What it was? — Nesta approached, one of her hands raising
for the sword in his back.
Bryce knelt once more and placed his hand back into the frigid river.
The star shone brighter as she aimed her light at the water. She moved,
kneeling, toward the glow downstream. In response, the starlight lit up
even more. As he turned toward the tunnel in front of him, the light
dimmed.
“He's got to be joking,” Bryce muttered, getting back to his feet.
- What it was? — Nesta asked, analyzing the river, the darkness

around it.
Bryce didn't respond. The star had taken her there. If she wanted
him to go into the river...
Bryce glanced at Nesta over his shoulder.
— See you at the bottom. —And with a wink, Bryce jumped into the
roaring water.
***
The cold took all of Bryce's breath away.

The choppy river was lit by its star, the water a clear, startling blue in the
little bubble of its light. It reflected off the high ceiling of the cave, and all
Bryce could do was keep his head above the rapids, lest he be crushed
against the rocks rising along the river.
Nesta had jumped in right after her. As Bryce rounded a bend moments
earlier, he heard Nesta shout “Senseless idiot!” before the roar of the river
swallowed all sound once more.
The star was guiding her somewhere. Something.
When they reached the other bend in the cave, Bryce was thrown again,
and as she struggled to keep her head above the water, her star seemed to
extend a beam of light into the darkness.
The ray of silver light illuminated a more serene part that extended on the
opposite side of the river. A break from the rapids. Just ahead of the small
bank... and another tunnel entrance that appeared shortly after.
Bryce began to swim toward the shore, his body protesting the effort of
staying against the current, in a hurry to reach that patch of calmer water
before it was gone. Stroke after stroke, leg after leg, she aimed for the narrow
shore.
She turned to warn Nesta that she should head towards the shore, but
saw that the female was a few meters behind, swimming madly towards the
shore. So Bryce continued swimming, her arms straining as the river pulled
her mercilessly forward.
If she and Nesta didn't get to that calmer water soon, they would lose...
The water seemed to slow down. Bryce's strokes became more

easy, faster pace.
Finally she reached the shore, the water still and light compared to the water.
fury behind her. He grabbed the rocky shore, bracing himself against it.
The stones scraped against each other beside her, and Nesta's heavy, wet
breathing was heard.
—What the... — Nesta panted — Fuck... — Another breath. —Was it that?
Bryce breathed in all that beautiful, wonderful air, even when the intense
cold began to make her shiver to her bones.
“The star told me to come this way,” he managed to say.
“I could have warned you earlier,” Nesta grumbled.
Bryce propped himself up on his elbows, panting, breathing in and out.
- For what? You would try to change my mind.
— Because — Nesta fumed, wiping the water from her eyes as she got
down on her knees — you could get here without having to get wet. I can't let
you out of my sight... not even for a second, so I had no choice but to follow
you. But you jumped so quickly... now we're freezing.
— And how were we going to get here without getting wet? - He asked
Bryce, shivering from the cold, teeth chattering.
Nesta rolled her eyes and said to the shadows: —
You can leave now.
Bryce quickly dropped to his knees, searching for a weapon he couldn't use.
was there when Azriel landed next to them.
His wings, spread wide, were so long that they almost touched the sides of
the cave, and the black knife hung from his hip, the dark handle shining dimly in
the light of Bryce's star. And peering over his broad shoulder, her hilt matching
like a shadow taking shape, was the Aster.
***
“What the fuck do you mean Bryce isn't in Hell? — Ruhn managed to say with
what was left of his tongue, each breath fell down his throat like shards of glass.
Hunt didn't respond, and Ruhn assumed he had no answer to give.
Baxian resmungou:
- Where? — was all the angel could say, Ruhn realized

account.
“I don't know,” Hunt said, his voice hoarse from shouting.

The Falcon had pulled a lever that made them all fall, the scream they
gave as their wounds hit the cold stone making them laugh. While puddles
stinking of their own blood and excrement splashed on them. But at least
they were on the ground now.
Still chained at the wrists and ankles, Ruhn could only lie there, shaking,
tears falling from his eyes as he felt the relief in his shoulders, his arms, his
lungs.
The Falcon had slid a tray of food toward them before leaving—keeping
it far enough away that they had to crawl through their own piss and feces to
get to it before the rats.
Baxian was, at that moment, trying to reach the tray, his legs pressing
against the stones, the stumps of his wings, already half grown, dyed red.
He stretched his filthy hand towards the broth and water, and groaned
deeply. Blood dripped from a wound in his ribs.
Ruhn didn't know if he would be able to eat, despite his body

beg for food. He took sharp breaths, one after another.
The Oracle had said that the royal line ended with him. Could she have
predicted that he would end up there—and not come out alive? A cold worse
than the dampness of the dungeon took hold of him.
It had been some time since he had accepted the possibility of this fate
for himself. It's true that I wasn't thinking about this particular death, but a
premature end in some vague sense. But now that Bryce was indeed a royal,
the prophecy also shed light on his fate. If she hadn't gotten to Hell... maybe
she wouldn't have gotten anywhere. And thus, the royal line would end with
the death of both.
He couldn't share his suspicions with Athalar. It could not bring forth the
despair that would be more terrible to Umbra Mortis than any of Pollux's
tools. Ruhn would have to keep that secret. The miserable truth, left to fester
in your heart.
The smell of stale bread filled his nostrils, overpowering the

stench as the tray slid in front of him. Splashing into a puddle of...
Ruhn didn't want to know what that liquid was. Although his nose
offered some unpleasant suggestions.
“You need to eat,” Hunt said, his hands shaking.
while bringing a cup of broth to his mouth.
“It means they don't want us dead,” Baxian said, slowly lifting a
piece of bread.
- Not yet. — Athalar took a sip slowly. As if not
trust your body not to vomit. —Eat, Danaan.
It was an order, and Ruhn found himself reaching out with weak,
trembling fingers toward the broth. It took all her focus, all her
strength, to bring it to her lips. He could barely taste it. Okay... the
tongue was still growing. He took another sip.
“I don't know where Bryce is,” Hunt said, his voice hoarse. He
took a piece of bread with his good hand. The burned fingers on the
other hand were twisted at different angles. Some were missing nails.
Damn, how had their lives gotten to this point?

Athalar took the last bite of bread and sat back—amid the piles
and pools of stinking waste. The halo glowed darkly on the angel's
forehead. Ruhn knew that Athalar's relaxed posture did not match
his thoughts at all. He knew the angel was probably a wreck of worry
and dread.
It was likely that guilt was eating away at Athalar. Guilt that I
shouldn't carry; everyone made choices that led them there.
But the words were too heavy, too painful for Ruhn to express.
Baxian finished and lay down too, falling asleep instantly. Martelo
and Falcão had come down harder on Cão do Inferno. They took it
personally—Baxian had been one of them. A brother in arms, a
partner in cruelty. Now they would take it apart piece by piece.
Ruhn lifted the cup again — made of silicone, which couldn't be

broken to use as a weapon — and peered into the water inside. He
watched it undulate with his breathing.
“We need to get out of here,” Ruhn said, and nothing could sound more
ridiculous. It was obvious that they needed to get out of there. For so many
damn reasons.
But Athalar opened one eye. He held her gaze. Pain, anger, and
determination shone from him, unfazed despite the halo and the enslaved mark
on his wrist.
— Then talk to your... person. — Girlfriend, the angel didn't say.
Ruhn gritted his teeth and felt an explosion of pain in his mouth.
painfull. I would rather die there than beg for the Doe's help.
- Another way.
“I've been in these dungeons... for seven years,” Hunt commented. —
There's no way out. Even more so with Pollux so committed to ending us.
Ruhn looked at the halo once more. He knew that the angel wasn't just
referring to leaving the dungeon. Now they were owned by the Asteri.
Baxian awoke from his sleep to murmur wearily, “I never took

it for granted, Athalar. To everything you've been through.
— I'm surprised I didn't receive a medal of honor when I left here. — The
light words did not match the emptiness in Hunt's eyes. Ruhn couldn't bear to
see that in Umbra Mortis' eyes.
Baxian laughed, his voice breaking, joining in on the joke.

— Maybe Pollux will give you a medal this time.
If Ruhn managed to free himself, Pollux would be the first fool he would end
up with. He didn't dwell on the reason. He did not dwell on the anger that
dominated him whenever he saw the angel with white wings.
He had been so foolish. Naive, reckless and foolish to get so involved with
Day — with Lidia — and forget the Oracle's warning. Deceiving himself that it
must mean he wouldn't have children. It had been so pathetic and lonely that
he had to imagine the best, even though it was clear that he had always had a
one-way ticket to disaster.
The only thing left to do was to end it.

Then Ruhn said:
— You were alone then, Athalar.

Hunt met Ruhn's gaze, as if to say, Oh, yeah? Ruhn just nodded.
Friends, brothers, whatever... he protected Athalar.
Something flashed in Athalar's eyes. Gratitude, perhaps. Or hope.

Much better than what was there moments before. This sharpened
Ruhn's focus. It cleared the pain-foggy parts of his brain.
This could be a one-way ticket for him, but it didn't need to be for
Hunt. And Bryce...
Ruhn looked away before Hunt could capture the fear
that filled your eyes and heart.
Fortunately, Baxian added,
“And you weren't... Umbra Mortis back then, either. You have
changed, Athalar.
Hunt gave a harsh laugh, full of defiance and contempt. Thank
the gods.
—What do you have in mind, Danaan?
— Have you been here this whole time? — Bryce looked at the warrior
surrounded by shadows as they left the river behind, walking through the low
tunnel passage.
They followed the light of Bryce's star, which had once again pointed
forward, faintly illuminating the surrounding carvings. The cold made her teeth
chatter, but moving helped warm her cold body, even if just a little.
Azriel, who was striding a few meters behind Bryce

As Nesta led the way through the tunnel, she replied:
- Yes.
Nesta sighed.
— That's all you'll get him to say.
Bryce peered over his shoulder at the male, trying to calm the male down.
tremor in your body.
— Were those shadows against my light earlier today yours?
“Yes,” Azriel replied again.
Nestha deu risada.
— And he must have been upset about it ever since.
— Seeing you walk into that freezing river helped — teased Azriel lightly,
and Bryce could have sworn he saw a disguised smile on his beautiful face.
But she asked: —

Why hide?
“To observe,” Nesta answered for him, her gait unwavering.
— To see what you would do. Where would it take me? Once we realized
there was a tunnel, we grabbed some supplies and followed you. —And
that explained the food she was carrying.
They passed through more carvings—all disarmed by Nesta's silver
flame before they approached. Those were more peaceful: they showed
small children playing. The passage of time with trees blooming, then
the land infertile, then blooming again. Beautiful and perfect scenes,
which conflicted with the conversation that was unfolding.
Bryce pointed to the passage and the carvings.

— I have no idea what to do. I'm just following the light.
“Into the river,” Nesta grumbled. Azriel chuckled behind her.
Bryce looked at him again, at the wings and armor. For the ears,
which he now realized were not pointed, but round like a human's. She
had seen drawings of warriors who looked like him, entire armies of
them.
— Do you have vanir in this world?
He narrowed his eyes.
- What is that?
Bryce slowed his pace, allowing himself to stay beside him. Although
he may have also allowed it.
— In Midgard... my world... is a term for all magical beings, not
humans. Fae, angels, shapeshifters, sea creatures, elves... — Azriel's
eyebrows rose with each word. — Basically, they are at the top of the
food chain.
— In this world — Nesta said from the front, rubbing her cold, wet
arms to obtain something resembling heat — we have humans and fae.
But among the fae, there are High Fae, like... me. Amren. And what
some call lesser fey: any other magical creature. And then there are
people like Azriel, who are... Illyrian.
— So Rhysand is Illyrian too? asked Bryce. - He

has wings.
“Kinda,” Nesta corrected. — Half High Fae, half Illyrian.

— Azriel cleared his throat as if to warn her not to talk so much, and
Nesta added, sharply: — And he has the arrogance of both.
Azriel cleared his throat for real this time, and Bryce couldn't help but
smile, even though your teeth are chattering.
She looked at the Aster strapped to Azriel's back, then at his side,
the knife hanging there. The sounds were muffled for a moment, a silent
thud sounded once and she felt her hand spasm, as if she were being
pulled towards the blades.
Azriel's wings twitched instantly, and he straightened his shoulders,
as if he were warding off some ghostly touch. When he looked at Nesta,
he noticed that she was analyzing the male, as if this were not something
common.
Bryce pushed aside the questions, rubbing his frozen hands to warm
them. Focus on the reward, she reminded herself as they continued
walking. Master at inventing lies.
***
Azriel was obviously uncomfortable carrying the knife and Aster.

As they moved through the darkness, their clothes drying and their
bodies slowly thawing, Bryce counted at least six different times he
twitched his wings or straightened his shoulders.
Not to mention the occasional silent thud in her ears when she got
too close to him.
They crossed a stream, wide enough to be a river, but shallow and
rocky throughout. Its shining star, fortunately, pointed toward the tunnel
on the other side. This time there would be no need to swim. As they
crossed, the star illuminated slimy white creatures that strayed from the
path. Bryce suppressed the urge to shudder at the sight of them. Or
smelling the iron-rich water that permeated his nose. She asked, just to
distract herself from the disgusting animals in the stream:
—Were these tunnels built by fae?

A few steps forward, Nesta didn't respond. But Azriel, who was right
behind, pondered for a few moments.
- I don't think so. From the consistency in size, I would say an early
Middengard Worm made these passages. Perhaps he even used these
canals to get around.
- This matters? — Nesta complained without looking back.
“Maybe,” Azriel murmured. — We better stay alert. He can
Maybe he still uses them to access the tunnel system.
Apprehension washed over Bryce.
- Why do you think that?
Azriel pointed to a pile of white things that she had believed to be more
of the squirming salamander-like creatures.
— Bones. Of those things in the bridge chamber, perhaps.

Bryce tripped on a slippery rock and fell into the cold water,
scratching his palms and knees.
A strong hand grabbed her back at the same moment, but it wasn't quick
enough to avoid the painful cuts that now peppered her hands and legs.
— Pay attention — warned Azriel, placing it on a larger stone.
Bryce's stomach felt empty this time, following his ears, and the knife
was right there, the sword so close...
Azriel grunted and his entire body went rigid. As if he also felt that, the
weapons demanding to be together or separated or whatever, the strange
power they exerted when they were close...
— Watch where you're going — was all the male said before walking
away. Far enough away that the sword and knife no longer had their strange
call on Bryce. Her belly calmed down and so did her ears.
When she reached the bank, she shook her hands to ease the pain in
her palms, the smell of blood was stronger than the river, and Bryce wiped
the blood from her injured knees. I liked those leggings, damn. The mud
came out with the blood, and she clicked her tongue as she ran her hand
along the stone wall, trying to clean herself.
He realized too late that he had wiped the blood and dirt off a drawing
of two serene fey females playing lutes. With an apologetic look at them
and the long-dead craftsman who had carved them, Bryce moved on. And
forward.
And forward.
***
“Your hands aren't healing,” Azriel observed behind Bryce the next day. Or
whenever it was, taking into account that they had slept for a few hours in
the darkness with nothing to indicate the passage of time. Bryce's sleep
had been light, fitful, aware of every falling drop and rolling stone in the
tunnel, the breath of the warriors beside him.
I knew they were monitoring her every breath.

After a quick meal, they started walking again. And apparently, Azriel
hadn't failed to notice the smell of her hands, which were still dripping with
blood.
Nesta stopped further forward, as if Azriel's words had worried her, and
when the female returned, hands outstretched, Bryce showed her scratched
palms.
—Something in the water? — Nesta murmured to Azriel.
“Her knees have healed,” Azriel murmured in response.
Bryce didn't want to know how he knew that. She looked at her bruised
and scratched hands, with the smeared blood and mud on them.
remaining.
— You'll see my magic gets all weird down here. That would explain
why the star is... acting like a GPS.
Her tongue got confused when pronouncing GPS in their language, but
if they had no idea what the Hell she was talking about, they didn't let on.
Instead, Azriel asked, “Do you

usually heal quickly?” — He took Bryce's hand, starlight bathing the
skin of his own hands... and the scars.
Covering every inch.
She had noticed them when they first saw each other, on that misty
riverbank, but had forgotten about them until then. I had never seen such
extensive burn scars.
The sword and the knife, so close together, began their process of
vibrate and attract. Her hearing seemed muffled, her belly was empty.
Azriel's wings fluttered again.
But Bryce responded, hands still bleeding, ignoring the
call of the blades:
— I'm half-human, so I'm used to healing more slowly, but since I made
the Descent, I've been healing at a relatively normal rate for a Vanir.
Nesta must also have been told about the Descent, because she didn't
question what it was. I just said: — Maybe it
also has something to do with the extra time your magic needs to be
replenished.
— I repeat — Azriel recalled — her knees have healed.
Bryce looked at the thick scars on his fingers. What who? — had you done
something so cruel to him? And despite knowing it was silly to open up, to
show any kind of vulnerability, he said quietly:
— The male who sired me... used to burn my brother as punishment. His
scars never healed either. —Ruhn had only covered them with tattoos. A fact
that she had only discovered moments before ending up there, and upon
learning the pain he had been subjected to...
Azriel let go of her hands. But he said nothing as he walked away, far
enough away that the sword and knife stopped calling to Bryce.
If they still tormented him, he didn't show it. He only gestured for them to keep
walking before heading towards the darkness, this time taking the lead. Bryce
watched him for a few moments before following him, his heart heavy for some
reason he couldn't define.
Nesta continued down the tunnel, this time closer to Bryce. The female
said very quietly: — I'm sorry for your
brother's suffering.
The words steadied Bryce, gave him focus.
— I'll make sure my father pays for this one day.

“That's good,” was all Nesta said, “that's good.
***
— Tell me about the daglan. — Bryce's voice echoed too loudly in the silent
cave. She was sitting with her back against the tunnel wall, a carving of three
faeries dancing above her. The smell of his blood filled the cave, the wounds
on his hands still open and bleeding. Not enough to be alarmed, but a few
small, steady drops every now and then.
Azriel and Nesta, sitting side by side in the quiet of

familiarity, they frowned. Nesta said:
— I don't know anything about them. — She pondered, then added: —
But I killed one of their contemporaries. Make some
seven months.
Bryce's eyebrows rose.
—So it wasn't an asteri... daglan, you mean?
Azriel fidgeted. Nesta glanced at him, recognizing the movement, but said
to Bryce, “I don't think so.” The creature... Lanthys...
was of a breed of its own.
He was...horrible.
Bryce tilted his head.
—How did you kill him?
Nesta didn't respond.
Bryce's eyes fell on the hilt of the sword, which appeared
above the warrior's shoulder.
- Therefore?
Nesta just replied: — Her
name is Ataraxia. - AND
a word from the Old Tongue. Nesta nodded. Bryce
he murmured: — Inner peace... is that the name of your sword?
— Lanthys also laughed when he heard it.
“I'm not laughing,” Bryce said, holding the female's gaze.
He found nothing but pure curiosity on Nesta's face. The female asked:
— The scar where your light comes out... it's shaped like a
eight-pointed star. Why?
Bryce looked at the light, camouflaged by the t-shirt.
— It's the symbol of the Estrelados, I think.
—And magic marked you that way?
— Yes. When I... revealed who I was, what I am, to the world, I pulled
the star out of my chest. When she left, she left this scar. — Bryce looked
at Azriel. — Like a burn.
His face was like a mask that was impossible to decipher.
But Nesta asked:
— So you have a star inside you? A real star?
Bryce lifted one shoulder.
- Yes? I mean, not literally. It's not like a ball
gas giant running in space. But it's starlight.
Nesta didn't seem very impressed.
— And you said that these asteri... also have stars inside them?
Bryce grimaced.
- Yes.
— So what's the difference between you and them? — Nesta asked.
—Aside from the fact that I'm not a damn intergalactic colonizer?
She could have sworn that one of the corners of Nesta's mouth turned up.
lifted. That Azriel laughed, the sound as soft as a shadow.
“Okay,” Nesta replied.
— I, um... I don't know. — Bryce pondered. — I never stopped to think
about it. But…” Those final moments of running from Rigelus flashed
through his mind, the blasts of his power shattering marble and glass,
burning his cheek… “My light is just that,” Bryce continued. — Light. The
Asteri claim that their powers come from sacred stars within them, but
they can physically manipulate things with this light. Kill and destroy. Can
starlight be considered just light if it can crush rocks? Everything they told
us is basically a lie, so it's possible that they don't have any stars inside
them... that it's just magic
shiny that looks like a star, and they call it a holy star to impress everyone.
Azriel said, his wings rustling: —

But then does it matter what their power is called?
“No,” Nesta admitted. —, I was just curious.
Bryce bit his lip. What was the power of the asteri? Or hers? Hers was
light, but perhaps theirs was actually the brute force of a star—a sun. So
hot and strong that it destroyed everything in its path. However, it wasn't a
comforting thought, so Bryce asked Nesta in order to change the subject:
—What kind of sword is that, again? — The simple, unremarkable hilt

jutted above Nesta's shoulder.
“The kind that can kill the unkillable,” Nesta replied.
“Like Aster,” Bryce said softly, then turned to Azriel. — Can your knife
also kill the unkillable?
“Her name is Truth Revealer,” he replied in a soft voice, like a sound
coming from the shadows. — And no, she didn’t.
it achieves.
— So she... reveals the truth?
A hidden smile, colder than the freezing air around them.
— It makes people reveal themselves.
Bryce would have winced if he hadn't seen Nesta roll her eyes.
That made her brave enough to ask the winged warrior: — Where did
that knife come from?
Azriel's brown eyes expressed nothing but cold caution.
- Why do you want to know?

— Because Aster — she pointed to the sword he had on his back —
is attracted to her. I know you can feel it too. — It would be better to speak
at once! — This is disturbing you, isn't it? — pressed Bryce. — And it gets
worse when I'm close.
Azriel's face again revealed nothing.
— Yes, yes — Nesta replied for him — I've never seen him so restless.
Azriel frowned at his friend. But he admitted:

— They seem to want to be close to each other.

Bryce nodded.
— When I landed on that lawn, they reacted the same way.
hour when they approached.
— Like attracts each other — reflected Nesta —, many things
spells react to each other.
—That was unique. It felt like an... answer. My sword shined with light. The knife
glowed, dark. Both are made from the same black metal. Iridium, right? — She
pointed with her chin at Azriel, at the knife next to his body. —Ore from a fallen
meteorite?
Azriel's silence was confirmation enough.
“I told you, back in the dungeon,” Bryce continued. — In my world, there is literally
a prophecy involving my sword and a knife that would reunite our people. “When
knife and sword are reunited, so will our people.”
Nesta frowned deeply.

—And you really think this is the knife of prophecy?
— They have too many things in common not to be. — Bryce raised his still
bloody hand, and noticed how they both tensed. But he curled his fingers and said:
— I can feel it. It gets stronger the closer I get.
“Then don't get too close,” Nesta warned, and Bryce lowered his hand.
Spinning around, Bryce examined the carved walls.

— These inscriptions also tell a narrative, you know.
Nesta looked at the images: the three faeries dancing in the foreground, the stars
overhead, the scattered islands. The mountainous island with the castle on top of the
highest peak. And, once again, the eternal reminder of the suffering beneath them.
Memento mori.
And I am in Avallen.
—What type of narrative?
Bryce shrugged.
— If I had a few weeks, I could go all over the place
and analyze.
“But you don't know our history,” said Nesta. —, would be without
context.
— I don't need context. Art has a universal language.

— Like the one with the tattoo on your back? — Nesta teased.
Right. It was their turn to ask questions.
— Your friend... Amren. Did she say it was the same language as in
some book?
Azriel asked, his face impassive: —
What do you call in your world... this language?
Bryce shook his head.
- I don't know. I was telling the truth before. My friend and I... had a
lot to drink one night. —And they smoked a fucking ton of jollyroot, but
they didn't need to know that, nor did they need an explanation about
Midgard's drugs. — I can barely remember. She said it meant For love,
anything is possible.
Nesta clicked her tongue, but not in disdain. It was something akin
to understanding.
Bryce continued.
— She said she picked the alphabet from a book at the tattoo parlor,
but... I don't think that's true. — She needed to divert the conversation
from the Horn. Quickly. Especially since Nesta had been called to inspect
the tattoo.
Azriel asked: —
How did your friend know the language?
- I still don't know. I've been trying to find out what she knew for
months.
— Why not ask? — Nesta countered.
— Because she's dead. — The words came out softer than Bryce
intended. But something broke inside her when she said them, even
though she had lived with that reality every day for more than two years.
— The Asteri had her murdered, then made it look like she was murdered
by a demon. She was about to discover some great truth about the asteri
and our world, so they ordered her death.
- What truth? — The question came from Azriel.

“I've been trying to find out too,” Bryce replied.
— Is the language in your tattoo part of that? — pressed Azriel.
— I don't know... I just know that she discovered what the asteri really
are, what they do with the worlds they conquer. If I ever come home—his
heart felt unbearably heavy—if I ever come home, I might find out the rest.
Silence hung between them. Then Nesta nodded at the three faerie
figures dancing above Bryce.
—So what does that mean? If you don't need the context.
Bryce examined the relief. Absorbed the dance, the stars, the islands
idyllic in the background. And she replied, in a soft
voice: — It means that there was once joy in this world.
Silence. Then Nesta asked: — Is
that it?
Bryce kept his eyes on the dancers, the stars, the lush lands. Ignored
the darkness below. Focus on the good — always the good.
— And isn't that what matters?

It took the Viper Queen five hours to deign to meet Ithan.

Five hours, plus the fact that Ithan had opened the door to the
hallway, where two fae assassins were standing, and threatened to bring
the warehouse down.
It was only then that they escorted him there, to her office.
It had left Flynn, Dec, Marc, and Tharion discussing, without fanfare,
how they were going to not only get out of the fucking Meat Market, but
also whether or not they could trust the Doe. The goblins, shocked by
the mention of the lost queen, took shelter in Tharion's room with Sigrid.
The dragon hadn't left her room yet.
But Ithan was tired of debating, of questioning. He'd never been good
at that kind of shit. Maybe it was his athlete side, but he wanted to do
something.
It didn't matter whether or not they could trust the Doe. If she could
get them to Pangera, closer to their friends... he would accept. But first
he needed to get his friend free.
Ithan sat in an antique green armchair in a ramshackle office,
watching the Viper Queen type key by key into a computer that looked
like a brick.
A statue of Luna stood just above the computer, the arrow pointed at
the Viper Queen's face. A few more click-click
Deliberate fingers of his long nails on the keyboard, and his green eyes slid
to Ithan.
— So why all the shouting?
Ithan crossed his arms. On the table was a statue of Cthona, carved from
dark stone. The goddess cradled a child in one of her arms, her breasts
exposed. In the other she extended a sphere — Midgard — into the room.
Cthona, who gave light to the worlds. He touched it lazily, working up the
courage to speak.
“I want to know what you're going to do about Sabine,” he said.
The Viper Queen reclined in her seat, her short hair bouncing.
— As far as I know, when Amelie Ravenscroft woke up after having her

throat slit by my security guards, she located Presumptive Cousin and dragged
her carcass home, where she has been feeding her a diet rich in primalux to
regenerate her. She is already recovering.
Horror coursed through Ithan's veins.

— So Sabine recovered quickly.
The Viper Queen tilted her head.
—Didn't you expect it to be like this?
He did not answer. Instead he asked, “Are you
going to hand Sigrid and me over to her?”
The Viper Queen opened a drawer, took out a silver tin of cigarettes and
put one in her mouth.
— It's up to you to ask me nicely, Holstrom. — The cigarette moved as
she spoke. She held up a lighter and lit it, taking a long drag.
- What is the price?

Smoke came out of the Viper Queen's mouth as she assessed him. The
tongue slid across the lower lip, painted purple. Proving.
Feeling. This was how snakes smelled scents.
— First, let's introduce ourselves properly. I don't think we ever
We met before, didn't we?
— Hi. Nice to meet you.
— So irritated. I thought you'd be a great ass.

He showed his teeth.

— I don't know why you would assume that.
She took another long drag on her cigarette.
—Wasn't it you who went against Sabine's orders and led a small group of
wolves to the Asphodel Meadows to save humans? To save the most
vulnerable in the House of Earth and Blood?
He growled.
— I was being nice. There was no other reason than that.
The Viper Queen let out a cloud of smoke, more dragon than
than the one upstairs.
—Only the future can tell.
Ithan challenged
her: — You also sent some of your people to help that day.
“I was being nice,” the Viper Queen repeated softly.
— There was no other reason than that.
— Maybe you'll be tempted to be nice today too.
— Buy or sell, Holstrom?
Ithan suppressed the wolf within him, one that howled at him.
for him to start destroying everything.
— Look, I don't like games.
- What a shame. — She analyzed her well-manicured nails. — Sabine
doesn't like it either. You wolves are so boring.
Ithan opened his mouth, then closed it. He rethought what she had said,
everything she had done.
— You don't like Sabine.
His mouth curved slowly.
— And does anyone like it?
He clenched his hands into fists.
— If you don't like her, why did you let her get away?
— I could ask the same thing, doggy. I had already managed to take her
down... why not kill her outright? — Ithan couldn't help the tension in his body.
— It's obvious — the Viper Queen continued — that the heiress Fendyr...
Sigrid, right? Should have done that. Don't you wolves say it's... challenging?
— Only in open combat, when witnessed by members of the Lair pack. If

Sigrid had killed Sabine last night, it would have been murder.
— Call it whatever you want.

A shiver ran down his spine.
— You want Sabine to really die. —She didn't say anything.
— Is that your price, then? Do you want me to kill...
- Oh no. I wouldn't dare get involved in politics like that.
— Just drugs and misery, right?
That slow smile again.
— What would your dear brother say if he knew you were here with the
likes of me?
Ithan wouldn't give him the time to react.
— Tell me what we need to do to get you to let us out of here.
- A fight. — She stubbed out the cigarette. — A single fight. Your. One
private event. — Queen Viper purred. - Only for me.
- Why? — demanded Ithan.
— I really value entertainment. Even more mine. — She smiled again. —
A fight in exchange for safe passage... and Ketos' freedom. If you win, all of
this will be yours. No other requirements other than that.
Damn, he should have taken Marc along. He would analyze the entire
proposal, spot possible pitfalls from miles away.
But Ithan knew that if he left there in search of someone else, the
offer would be withdrawn. It came down to him and him alone.
— I fight and you let us go. At the same time.
She lowered her face.
— I can even provide the car to take you wherever you want.
A fight. He had already fought a lot in his life.

— I won't drink your poison — warned Ithan.
— And who said I was going to offer? — His mouth curved.
"And you will free Tharion too," Ithan added. —
Enough of this seduction bullshit.
AND
— So you offend me, Holstrom. It is a sacred bond between

my.
—Nothing is sacred to you.

The Viper Queen raised a finger and turned Luna's figurine toward her.
him, the arrow now pointed in his direction.
— Ah?
— These devices mean nothing if they are not accompanied by actions.
Another discreet smile.

—So arrogant.
Ithan held her gaze, letting her see the wolf there.
inside, whatever was left of it.
It had to be a trap. But time was running out — and he saw no
alternative to getting out of this mess.
— Okay — Ithan conceded. - A fight.
— Deal — hummed the Viper Queen. She got up and
He walked to the door, his body moving with sinuous grace. — The fight
will be tomorrow, at ten. Your friends can watch if they want. — She
opened the door, a silent order for him to leave.
Ithan obeyed, and she took out another can of cigarettes—this time
golden — and opened it. I was passing through the threshold when she said:
— I'll give you a worthy opponent, don't worry. — Queen Viper smiled,
ironically. And then he added, before closing the door in his face: — Make
your brother proud.
***
Lidia Cervos combed her hair, sitting at the dressing table in her ornate
room in the Asteri palace. A monstrosity of golden silk, ivory velvet and
polished oak, overlooking the city's seven hills. The perfect room for the
loyal and pampered Asteri pet.
No one thought it was strange or even questioned her when she went
to Lunathion earlier, to deliver a message to Celestina, and made a stop
at the Meat Market to buy some “souvenirs”. Not even Mordoc cared.
But her allies also believed that she was the enemy's faithful pet.
So there she was. Alone. Praying that Declan Emmet and his friends
would come to meet him. Praying that he had correctly judged the Goblin
Queen, many floors below.
The bathroom door opened, steam coming out, and Pollux appeared,
completely naked and with his skin still damp from the shower.
—Are you not ready yet? — he asked, frowning as he observed her light
gray silk robe. He frowned even more when his gaze fell on her hair, still
loose and unstyled. — We have to leave in fifteen minutes.
And there it was—the beginning of an intricate dance.

— I'm going to menstruate — she said, placing her hand on the lower
part of her belly. — Make up an excuse for me.
Pollux smoothed his blonde hair back and walked towards her, his big
dick bobbing with each step. Its white wings left a trail of water on the cream-
colored carpet.
— Rigelus personally asked us to be there. Take a tonic.
— I already took it — she said, revealing a little of her temperament. It

wasn't a lie. She had taken a potion, one of her emergency contraceptives,
in case the usual plan failed.
It had caused her cycle to start two weeks earlier than expected.
At that moment, Pollux sniffed, smelling blood.
— Came ahead of time.
He knew because he didn't like fucking her when she was bleeding. She
had learned to appreciate her cycles. In weeks like these, Pollux would often
torment someone else.
She held his gaze, even if it was because his dick was in front of her
face, and she had little interest in looking at it for another second of her
existence. The tonic took effect at that moment, and nausea shook his
stomach—with a twinge of pain.
He didn't need to fake his shudder.

—Tell Rigelus I apologize.
Pollux watched her without an ounce of pity. On the contrary; he got a

hard-on. A cat enjoying the sight of its dinner in pain.
But she ignored him and turned to the mirror. A large, powerful hand
stroked her hair, setting it aside. Then lips kissed her neck, his tongue
playing beneath her ear.
- I hope you feel better soon.

Lidia forced herself to raise one of her hands and stroke his hair. Run
your fingers through the damp hair and make soft sounds.
They could be pain or pleasure. It was the same for Malleus. He walked
away, stroking his dick with one hand as he headed to the closet, wings
glowing white behind him.
She was in their bed—a mountain of down pillows and silk sheets—
when Pollux came out fifteen minutes later, wearing a tuxedo that fit him
perfectly. So beautiful on the outside, this monster.
— Lidia — the Hammer purred, his deep voice exuding possession, and then
he was gone.
She lay in bed, trying hard to ignore her twitching belly, the nausea
caused not just by her period. He only got up after ten minutes had passed.
She ran into the bathroom, still damp from Pollux's bath—almost always
so hot she wondered if it was an attempt to scald the evil in himself—and
grabbed the bag of feminine hygiene products she knew he would never
open. . How if touching a tampon could make your dick shrivel
and dry.
Inside the bag was a disposable cell phone. Every month a different
one arrived in a box of tampons. She turned the shower on again, blocking
out any specific noise that might be picked up by the palace cameras on
the outer walls or by anyone on the other end of the line. And then he
dialed.
A telephone operator answered.
— Fincher tiles and floors.
She changed her voice to a melodious and sweet chant.
— I'm looking for custom ash flooring, seven-by-seven pieces?
- One moment please.

A new touch. Then another female said: —
Custom Ash Flooring, Seven by Seven speaking.
Lidia exhaled discreetly. She had only called once before, a long time
ago. They sent disposable cell phones one after another in case of
emergency. She destroyed them every month without using them.
Well, that was an emergency.
“This is Daybright,” he said in his normal voice.
The female on the line took a deep breath.
— By Solas.
Lidia continued quickly.
— I need all agents mobilized and ready to act in three days.
The female on the line cleared her throat.

— I... Agent Daybright, I don't think there's anyone to
mobilize.
Lidia blinked slowly.
- Explain.
— We suffered too many attacks, we lost too many people. And then
After Agent Silverbow's death, many abandoned the cause.
— How many are left?
— A few hundred, perhaps.
Lidia closed her eyes.
—And none of them can be used now to...
— Command has decided to end all missions. Everyone went
to hide.
— Pass the call to Command, then.
— I... I'm not allowed to do that.
Lidia opened her eyes.
— Tell Command I want to talk to them and only them. A
The information I have may give them a chance of survival.
The dispatcher paused, considering.
- If not...
- Will be. Tell them it's something they've wanted to do for a long time.
Another pause. Thinking about everything she knew, probably.

- A moment.
It took a few minutes to get the human male to answer his cell phone.
For Lidia to use the codes in order to identify herself and verify her
identity, as well as his. To explain the plan she had developed little by
little. In order for Ophion to survive another day, yes... but, more than
that, they obtained involuntary help to make sure that Ruhn survived.
Two days. Lidia provided a time, a starting location and an order of

readiness. They wouldn't be able to lose the signal. She could only hope
that Ophion would appear as the commander had promised.
Lidia ended the call and crushed the cell phone until only pieces of
plastic and glass remained. Then he opened the bathroom window,
pretending to let the steam out as the pieces flew into the star-filled night.
***
Bryce faced another river, the icy waters waist deep. But at least the star
was still pointing straight ahead and they wouldn't have to swim. They
splashed through the water in silence, Bryce's hands, still bloody, stinging
from the contact of the river water, and she shivered as they emerged on
the other side.
— So, the eight-pointed star — Nesta said in the silence as they
walked again, her shoes making a watery noise — is a symbol of the
Stars of your world. Does it have any other meaning?
— Why so many questions about her? asked Bryce, teeth chattering.

Azriel walked a few steps behind, silent as death, but she knew he was
listening to every word.
Nesta was silent and Bryce thought she might not

replied, but said:
— I got a tattoo on my back... recently. A tattoo

magic that has already disappeared. But it was an eight-pointed star.
- AND?
— And the magic, the power of bargaining that made the tattoo appear...
chose the design. The star meant nothing to me. I thought maybe it was
related to my training, but its shape was identical to the scar on his chest.
“So obviously we're destined to be best friends,” Bryce teased. Nesta

didn't laugh or even smile.
Bryce asked, “Is that… that’s why you volunteered to come after me?”
— I've been in the faerie long enough to know that some forces sometimes
guide us, push us in a direction. I learned to allow them, to listen to them. —
Nesta smiled a little.
—That's why I didn't kill you for following your starlight into the river. You
were doing the same thing.
Bryce felt a tightness in his chest. The female had a story to tell, one that,
under any other circumstances, Bryce would have loved to hear. But before
he could even think about asking anything, something huge and white
appeared right in front. A skeleton with huge bones.
—The worm? asked Bryce, even though he realized it wasn't.

This was different, a sobek-like body. Each tooth was the size of Bryce's hand.
“No,” Azriel replied behind her, the sound of the river drowning out his
soft words. —And I don't think the worm ate it, if the skeleton is intact like that.
- You know what it is? asked Bryce.

“No,” Azriel said again, “and part of me is glad I don't know.
— Do you think there's more down there? — Nesta asked

Azriel, analyzing the darkness.
“I hope not,” Azriel replied. Bryce shuddered and took the opportunity to
move forward, leading the way, leaving those ancient and terrifying bones
behind.
The river was still roaring thunderously when the carvings began
to change. Before they were full of life, action and movement.
The ones now were simpler, obviously intended to be the main focus.
Something of great importance to whoever sculpted it.
An arc had been engraved, with stars shining around it.
And in that arch was a male figure, the image created with stunning
complexity. His hand was raised in salute.
And Bryce might have looked closer, if the Worm of Middengard

hadn't appeared in the river behind them.
The Worm of Middengard had finally appeared. Exactly as Bryce had planned.
He had let the blood drip along the path, creating a trail, and he had scratched
the wounds time after time to reopen them, which were actually inflicted intentionally
when “falling” into the stream. If the worm was guided by the scent of the game,
then it had left a gigantic neon sign that guided it to them. I didn't know when or how
he would attack, but I was waiting.
And it was ready.

Bryce fell as not just shadows, but the blue light coming from Azriel flashed—
with the silver flame that snaked from Nesta.
With their backs leaning against each other, they stared at the enormous creature
with sharp focus. Ataraxia glowed in Nesta's hand. The Truth-Revealer pulsed with
darkness in Azriel's.
It was now or never. His legs tensed, ready to
run.
Nesta's eyes flickered to Bryce for a moment. As if he finally understood
everything: Bryce’s “incurable” hand. The blood she smeared on the walls. The
commentary regarding the interconnected river system in the caves, investigating
what they knew about the terrain and the worm. To attract this thing—to them.
“I'm sorry,” Bryce said to her. And ran.

I didn't want them to get hurt; Don't lie about that.
They could certainly face the worm and survive. Nesta had said that
her sister had already done this.
But Bryce needed to find out whatever Urd had sent her here to find
out. Whether this information could help or harm their world... I didn't
want them to know. That they could use against her. Let them hand her
over to the Asteri. Or that they would use it against Midgard for their
own benefit. Whatever lay ahead concerned only her.
Bryce ran down the tunnel, his path lit by glimpses of silver flame
and blue magic. Nesta's and Azriel's powers, shining like lightning
against the nightmare the worm represented.
The faces in the carvings of the tunnel watched Bryce's escape with
cold, condemning eyes. The breath seemed to cut the throat.
I had no idea how much I needed to run, but if I could speed up a little
more...
A scream echoed from the rocks behind her. Not of persecution, but of
pain. Azriel. When he looked over his shoulder, he saw his blue light go out.
Then a scream of a female voice resounded through the cave, and
Nesta's silver flame also went out, leaving only Bryce's starlight to light
the way. Leaving only darkness and silence behind.
I needed to move on. They were experienced warriors.

It was okay.
But that silence, interrupted by Bryce's breathing, his hurried steps...
She was a master at inventing lies. She had kept them both
distracted, kept them from thinking of her as a manipulative little piece
of shit, but...
Bryce slowed his pace until he stopped. The darkness behind her
increased.
She found herself face to face with a scene that represented a great
battlefield before the high walls of the city, fey, winged horrors and
snarling beasts, all at war, entrenched in pain.
and in suffering. One of the fae was in the foreground, thrusting a spear into
the mouth of another fae warrior.
Fae against fae. You shouldn't bother with that. It shouldn't affect her like
it did: the female warrior's merciless expression as she plunged her spear into
the agonized face of the warrior in front of her. Bryce shouldn't be hesitant
when he saw that.
I had long understood that this kind of thing happened among the fae. He
took comfort in knowing that he wasn't like them, he would never be like that.
Still, I had just...

She wasn't a monster. It was?
Maybe he would regret it. She knew Hunt would yell at her for creating a
trap only to then come to the aid of the people she deceived.
But Bryce started running again, speeding through the cave. Back to Nesta
and Azriel.
Praying that there was still something left to be saved.
***
Bryce realized, as he retraced his steps, that what he had previously thought
was the noise of the river was, in fact, the thunderous movement of the worm's
enormous body. Azriel and Nesta must have committed the
same mistake.
In the dark, its starlight bathed the walls in silver,

throwing the world into high relief.
Your starlight has never felt so...empty. As he guided them, he was
comforting, bringing a little color and brightness to this realm of eternal night.
Now, shimmering with every step she took as she ran, she looked more
brutish. Devoid of color.
As if even the light was disgusted by what she had done.
Nesta and Azriel were not in the tunnel near the archway carvings. Judging
by the way the ground shook and the jaws just ahead, they had lured the
worm back into the river.
Bryce pulled himself together and managed to slow down in time to be
walking before reaching the shore, remembering the
Randall's training.
Observe, evaluate, decide.
Then she stealthily advanced the last few meters that separated her from
the running water, one hand covering the star to dim its brightness, and...
They weren't there. No sign of the worm or its meal.

He felt butterflies in his stomach. They looked extremely brave and capable.
Surely the worm wouldn't have...
He had.
Nesta was sprawled out on a large rock in the river, less than ten feet
away. No sign of the worm or Azriel. Maybe he had already eaten it. And soon
he would return to continue the meal.
By the gods, what had she done? He had ruined everything in an

unforgivable way...
Bryce ran to Nesta, who was lying down, splashing cold water everywhere,
slipping on the rocks, the river foam forming around her waist in a strong
current as she tried to turn the female...
Nesta's eyes were open. And burning with fury.

A hand wrapped around Bryce's throat. A blade poked his back. And
Azriel's voice was soft as a whisper as he said:
— Give me just one reason not to stick this knife in your spine.
Bryce bared his teeth.

— Why did I come back to help?
Nesta snorted and stood up. Intact.
— And the worm? — Bryce managed to ask, trying not to think about the
knife angled to pierce his body. Or in the attraction between Aster and the
dagger, now so close to her.
“It's hunting us,” Nesta barked, looking at the river, at the tunnel.
“Then fucking run,” Bryce gasped. — The opening of the tunnel...

“We're not going to leave that thing alive,” Azriel said, his tone venomous.
Nesta drew Ataraxia, the blade glowing
weakly. She was calm, as if this were an ordinary day at work.
Flaming Soles. Randall would kill her for being so stupid.

— You attracted me here.
Nesta nodded to Azriel, who pushed the blade away but kept a hand on
Bryce's shoulder, either to stop him from moving or to keep her still in the
rushing waters of the river.
— You saved me from those traps on the wall. It was to be expected that
such a soft heart would be accompanied by a guilty conscience.
In other words: her mother would kill her for being so stupid.
— Eu...
Bryce started, but Nesta interrupted: — Don't
waste your time.
The tone was abrupt enough to make Bryce look beyond the darkness of
the river, to the tunnels on either side. Even the call of Aster and the Truth
Revealer took a back seat when she asked: — How did he disappear?
“Deep pits in the riverbed,” Azriel murmured. — All it took was a whiff of
Nesta's power to dive into one of them. But from the way the rocks shake...
he's close by. Watching us.
“Then why are we standing here in the fucking river?”

Nesta smiled at her.
— Bait.
***
Make your brother proud.

It would have been better if the Viper Queen had shot Ithan in the guts. It
was as if he knew exactly how ashamed Connor would be to see how far he
had fallen.
— What is she going to do about Sabine? — Tharion asked Ithan when he
reentered the suite. Right, that's what he said he would resolve with the queen.
“Nothing,” replied Ithan.

Sigrid was sitting on the sofa next to Declan, watching the
his fingers type quickly on his cell phone.
— Where's Marc? asked Ithan.
— Used one of his lawyer tricks — Flynn answered for Dec. — Talked
some legal shit to the guards. A minute after you left, he received a
message from the Viper Queen, saying he was free to leave.
So that's what the Viper Queen was typing into the computer.
- Go where?
— To the office — replied Dec, still focused on his cell phone. — He's
going to try to find out if there's any legal way to get us out of this circus of
horrors.
— I may have the solution for that — commented Ithan.
Everyone looked at him.
Tharion asked softly: — What
was her offer, doggy?
— Nothing I can't handle.
Tharion stood up from the table closest to the window overlooking the
ring.
- You...
— A fight... with me. Tomorrow night.
Sigrid's eyes widened.
—What kind of fight?
Ithan pointed to the window behind Tharion.
— One of the chic ones. Down there.
— She said against whom? — He had never seen Ketos with such a
serious expression. — You should have made her specify. She's going to
screw you... and in some way, we're all going to screw ourselves. —
Tharion's voice became more acute. —What the hell were you thinking?
— I was thinking — Ithan replied — that you made a ridiculous decision,

and I needed to try to get you out of it. Get us all out of this mess.
Tharion blinked at him a few times, his eyes dark. Cold.

— I didn't ask you to get me out of this. Do you think I can just walk
away from here? I can't.
—The Viper Queen said you could...
—And then what? — The merman stood up. — Return to depending
on the mercy of the River Queen. The Viper Queen knows this, that I
have no other choice but to stay here, with her. — Tharion shook his
head, disgusted. — You fucking idiot. — And, after saying that, the
merman left the room irritated.
Silence hovered for a few moments. Then Declan said: —
You should have spoken to us before. — Yes,
yes, but I didn't say it — replied Ithan. Then he sighed. — The Doe
gave us two days. Marc's a genius and all, but this law shit takes time.
We do not have time.
— The merman is right — Sigrid replied, saddened. — You shouldn't
trust someone like her. Someone who traffics other beings has no honor.
— I know — Ithan agreed. And for a few moments, he could see in

Sigrid's eyes the stern but fair alpha that she could become. With enough
emotional scars to understand the importance and value of each life.
Maybe he should have encouraged her to kill Sabine the night before.
Ithan sighed again.
Flynn went to the bar.
— Better drink something, Holstrom.
— I never drink before games — Ithan protested. — Not even the day
before.
“Trust me,” Flynn warned, pressing a glass of whiskey into Ithan's
hand. — With the Viper handpicking her opponent, you'll want something
to relax you a little.
***
“You spread your blood everywhere to attract him,” Nesta said. — He's
after you, not both of us. Soon you will call that thing back.
Bryce's gaze alternated between Nesta and Azriel. They were serious.
Bryce pointed to the rock Nesta had been lying on.

moments before.
- So how is it? I must lie down on the stone and wait until the
worm appears to devour me?
— That last part is up to you — Nesta replied, turning to the other side of the river
— but from what I just saw, you run fast. You'll be able to escape just in time. Perhaps.
Idiot.
Azriel murmured,
“Silence.
With no other alternative, Bryce complied.
It didn't matter how strong his starlight shined. The worm was blind. And it was only
a matter of time before he smelled her
new...
A matter of seconds, actually.
In an instant, there was only the river running its course. In the next instant, a wall
of water exploded in front of Azriel, the worm's gigantic body making even the mighty
warrior appear smaller.
Bryce had never seen such a horrible creature, not even during the attack on
Crescent Moon City last spring.
Rays of blue light shone at Azriel, hurtling towards the creature...
They hit dark, wet skin and disappeared.

That's all Bryce saw before he jumped off the rock, running down the street.
water, towards the arched tunnel.
Nesta walked past her, Ataraxia in one hand, silver fire enveloping the other. But
the worm disappeared. As quickly as he had appeared, he returned to the hole.
— Where is he? — Nesta shouted at Azriel, who turned around, making

a sweep of the river, the tunnel...
Behind them, closer to Bryce, the worm reemerged from the waters, coming from
another hole. Silver fire flashed past her. The worm
he roared as the raw power hit the side of his body, making the caves shake,
debris and rocks falling with a thud into the river.
Then the fire went out, sucked into his skin. The worm dived back into the
water, heading towards the hole.
Azriel and Nesta returned to their original position, their backs pressed
together, and Bryce managed to compose himself a little to ask: — What
happened?
“He… he ate my power,” Nesta muttered.

— It's not possible — replied Azriel, his eyes fixed on the river.
— But he ate it — Nesta got angry — I felt it.
“Shit,” said Azriel.
“We have to run,” Bryce warned.
“No,” Nesta insisted, the silver flames in her eyes again. — That thing isn't
going to come out of this fight alive.
As if in response and a challenge, the worm burst from the water, a huge,
powerful wave, jaws wide open toward Nesta, Azriel, and Bryce...
With a flick of Azriel's wings, the three rose into the air, faster than the worm
could attack. It almost missed Azriel's boots as it dived again, disappearing
again.
— We need to contain him — Nesta suggested to Azriel — so he can
I can get closer with Ataraxia.
— If your power didn't kill him, there's no way of knowing if Ataraxia will —
gasped Azriel, setting them down on the stone. — He breaks my bonds like
they were cobwebs.
"Then we need something else that can fight for us," Nesta protested, and
Azriel turned to her, as if alarmed.
But Bryce said,

“Okay,” and held out his hand to Azriel Aster. — She — give it to me
had drawn them into that mess, so she could try to get them out of there. Aster
had already killed reapers. Maybe he could kill that thing too.
— Don't you dare. — Azriel started to say, but not to Bryce. Dread paling
his skin. — Nesta...
Something metallic shined like sunlight on Nesta's hand. A mask.
“Nesta,” warned Azriel, panic making his voice sharper, but it was
already too late. She closed her eyes and put the mask on her face. A
strange, cold breeze blew from the tunnel.
Bryce had felt that breeze before, in the Bone Quarter. The wind of
death, of putrefaction, of stillness. The hairs on his arms stood up. The
blood turned ice cold as Nesta opened her eyes to reveal that there were
only silver flames shining there.
Whatever that mask was, whatever its power… it contained death.
“Take it off,” Azriel ordered, but Nesta reached out into the darkness
of the tunnel.
Deadly, an old, dry voice whispered in Bryce's head. You are
mortal, and must die. Memento mori. Memento mori, memento...
A bone clicked in the dark. The earth shook.
Azriel grabbed Bryce, pulling her towards him as he backed away
towards the wall, as if he could offer any protection against whatever
approached. Aster and the Truth Revealer murmured and exerted their
attraction, as if they were pulling Bryce by the spine, her hands itching,
as if she could feel the weapons in her palms...
Didn't he see what Nesta drew from the darkness before the worm caught them?
found.
As before, he emerged from the river, rushing into the narrow tunnel,
blocking the way back. Azriel's shield glowed blue around them. The
worm charged toward them, its jaw wide open revealing rows of teeth
capable of tearing flesh apart.
But something huge and white hit the worm. A creature of pure bone,
larger than the worm.
The skeleton they had found in the tunnel. Reanimated.
Its jaw gaped at the worm, long arms that ended in claws finding
their way into either side of the damned beast's mouth.
The worm squeaked, but the creature held it tightly,

biting the opponent's head, and shook, shook, shook...
Azriel pulled Bryce back, sword and knife beckoning her to use
them. But he kept pushing it away, deeper and deeper into the tunnel
as the undead thing and the worm dueled. The ceiling shook, debris
fell to the floor. Azriel arched a wing, shielding them from the crushing
rain.
But there was nothing in the world that could protect them from
what was just a few feet away.
With her hair blowing in a phantom breeze, Nesta glowed with
silver flames. Still wearing the mask. And with a finger pointed at the
fight. Requiring the creature of bone and death to attack the worm.
Again. Again.
— What is she...? — Bryce began, but Azriel covered his mouth.
with one hand, pulling her further into the tunnel.
So all Bryce could do was watch in awe and
pure terror as Nesta clenched her fist.
The beast's jaws grabbed the entire front of the worm and crushed
it against the ground, trapping it. The earth shook from the impact and
even Azriel stumbled, pulling away the hand covering Bryce's mouth.
The worm struggled, but the undead creature held on.

She kept him under control as Nesta unsheathed Ataraxia once more
and approached.
“We have to help her,” Bryce gasped to Azriel.
— I swear she's fine — countered Azriel, pulling Bryce so that they
both went further into the tunnel. Out of the impact zone, Bryce realized.
The worm must have felt the sword approaching, because it

struggled more against the set of bones and claws that held it to the
rock.
He managed to push the undead creature back, but only for an
instant.
Nesta raised her free hand again, and the undead creature
slammed the worm's body into the ground as the creature struggled in
complete despair.
With the elegance of a dancer, Nesta climbed the undead beast's tail, running
along the ridges of its back like stones in a stream. Climbing to higher levels, for a
better angle.
The worm protested, but Nesta was already in the undead creature's white
skull. And then she jumped with her sword raised above her head, and went down,
down...
Right on the worm's head.
A tremor of silver fire ran through the worm. The cold wind and
dry breath blew through the cave again, death in its wake.
The worm collapsed to the ground.
The silence was worse than the sound.
Azriel left hiding instantly, his wings closed as he ran towards Nesta and the
undead beast that still held the beast.
— You can take it off — ordered Azriel.

The female turned her head towards him in one smooth movement.
that Bryce had only seen in possessed dolls in horror movies.
— Take it off — shouted Azriel.
Still staring at him, Nesta pulled Ataraxia from the worm's body and slid down
its side, landing on the stone with unearthly grace.
Every muscle in Bryce's body tensed, his voice whispering over and over to
her: Deadly. You must die. You must die. You must
to die.
She hated the way her body shook as Nesta slowly approached her. How
both parts of him, the human and the Vanir, trembled at the thing, whatever it was,
behind the mask.
Azriel didn't take a single step back. Nesta stopped in front of him.
Nothing human or fae looked through the holes in the mask.
“Take it off,” he ordered, his voice as cold as ice. — Let the creature rest again.
A blink, and the undead creature was once again a pile of

bones.
“Cassian is waiting for you, Nesta,” Azriel said, with a gentler tone of voice. —
Take off the Mask. — Nesta remained
silently, Ataraxia at the ready in his hand. One move and Azriel would be
dead. — He's waiting for you at the House of Wind. — Azriel continued. - At
home.
Nesta blinked again. The silver flame softened a little.
As if whoever Cassian was, and whatever the House of Wind was...
perhaps they were the only things capable of fighting the siren song of the
Masquerade.
“Gwyn and Emerie are waiting,” Azriel pressed. —And Feyre and Elain.
—The silver flame flashed again. Then Azriel said, “Nyx is also waiting.
The silver flame went out once and for all.

The Mask fell from Nesta's face, clanging against the stone.
Nesta swayed, but Azriel was there to support her, pulling her closer.
to his chest, his scarred hands stroking his hair.
“Thanks to Mother,” he said softly. — Thanks to Mother.
Bryce turned to walk away, feeling like he was witnessing
a very intimate moment.
But Nesta turned away from Azriel. He steadied himself in place before
looking at Bryce, still holding Ataraxia in one hand. She moved the fingers of
her other hand and the Mask instantly disappeared, back to wherever it had
been before being summoned.
Bryce had so many things to say that he finally couldn't say anything.
Nesta returned to stow Ataraxia on her back and said to Bryce, “Keep
walking.”
It took Bryce hours to stop shaking. Until you keep that cold, deadly wind
away from your skin. Until you stop hearing the whisper of your death, the
death of all things.
I had never seen anything like that mask. Nesta seemed at her mercy,
brought back to herself only after Azriel listed those people who, whoever
they were, were obviously important to Nesta.
For love, everything is possible. Even get rid of lethal masks.

Nesta didn't say anything, just staying close to Azriel. Or maybe he was
the one keeping close to her. The male didn't seem to want her out of his
reach.
Finally, Bryce couldn't take it anymore.
“I'm sorry,” he said.
When they both remained silent, she turned to look at them. Their
expressions were equally cold.
"Really... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," said Bryce, the
heart beating hard.
"You're proving," Nesta replied firmly, "that you don't
It's worth all that work.
—Then why don't you kill me? — Bryce fumed.
"Because whatever you hope to find at the end of these tunnels," Azriel explained with
lethal calm, "whatever is worth the effort of trying to kill us... it has to be something very
worth seeing."
— You could leave me here and go alone. — She shouldn't have suggested that. But
it was already too late.
“The star on your chest would disagree,” Nesta teased, and finally left Azriel's side into
the darkness. — We've already tried hard to find out what yours is. Now, it's best to go all
the way.
— Did they make an effort? —But even as he spoke, Bryce

understood. — You knew I would come out through the grate.
— Rhysand guessed, yes... and was all convinced when you crossed. Truth be told:
he was quite surprised to learn that you were able to cross, but... the bastard sent us after
you.
— Nesta spoke without turning around, walking with that unshakable confidence towards
the darkness. — He told us to make sure there was only one way. We made sure you
believed there was only one way too. And you'd show us what you came for... show us
what you're looking for here.
— You caused the collapse.

Nesta shrugged.
— Azriel caused it. But yes.
— Wh... what's all this for? Why do you care?
Nesta was silent for a few moments. Azriel said nothing, it was a wall of ominous
silence behind her. Then Nesta replied: — Because I've seen that star on your chest before.
“Yes, you already told me,” Bryce replied. — Your tattoo...

— Not on my tattoo.
- So where? Bryce whispered. If she could get some answers...
But Nesta moved on, into the darkness.

— It wasn't in a good place.
***
After another fitful nap, Azriel and Nesta were still clearly irritated
with Bryce. And they had every right, but didn't she also have the
right to be pissed off? They had manipulated her the entire time,
watching her as if she were an animal in a zoo, making her believe
that she had caused that collapse when it was their work...
She frowned at Azriel as they walked.

through the tunnel. He returned an icy glare.
Behind him, the carvings continued, showing animated fae on
hilltops, in full activity in ancient-looking cities surrounded by walls. A
scenario of growth and change. But Azriel's gaze remained straight
ahead—and he nodded when he saw where Nesta had stopped.
“We have a problem,” Nesta muttered as the two approached.
An abyss rose before them, Bryce's starlight shone

with a single ray passing through it. Bryce swallowed.
Yes, it was a big problem.
***
Ruhn managed to keep the food in his stomach, and that was all he
had to say about himself there, lying and sleeping on the filthy, fetid
floor.
Maybe it was because he hadn't really slept in days.
Maybe it was because Athalar had asked him to make an effort and
deep down he knew he needed to act like a fucking adult.
But there he was. On a familiar-looking bridge in his mind.
Facing a burning female figure.
Ruhn? Lidia's voice reached his ears. What there was?
— I need to pass on spy information. — Each word sounded cold
and succinct.
The flame around Lidia dimmed until it was just her and her
flowing golden hair, and that took a bit of a toll on him. She was
fucking beautiful. He wouldn't have cared, not if
It mattered during those weeks when they were getting to know each other
better, but...
She stood three meters away. He did not care about his stars and
night. He didn't care.
— Bryce... was trying to get to Hell for help.
Failed.
Lidia's face was impassive.
—And how is it possible for you to know that?
— The Moat Prince paid Hunt a little visit. He confirmed that Bryce is
not with him... or his brothers.
Points to Lidia for not expressing displeasure upon hearing Apollion
mentioned. She didn't even ask why Hunt was contacting him.
— Where did she end up?

- We do not know. The plan was for her to go there, gather the armies
and come with them here, but if she's not there, we're out of luck with this
shit.
—Would... would there be any chance that Hell would ally with you? —
There was disbelief in every word.
— Yes. And it still does.
— Why tell me all this?
He clenched his jaw.
— We weren't sure if you or Command suspected where Bryce was,
or if you were hoping she would perform a miracle when she returned. But
we decided they should know that this option doesn't seem viable.
Lidia cursed. He looked at his hands, as if he could see Ophion's plans

falling apart.
— We weren't counting on help from your sister or Hell, but I'll pass
the message on anyway. — His eyes were full of concern. - She is...?
Day could be counted on to get to the heart of the matter.

- I don't know. — His harsh tone said it all.
She tilted her head, and he knew her well enough to know
who was thinking about everything he had heard. The Oracle's warning.
But Lidia said:
—She's not dead. — His words contained complete confidence.
- Oh yes? — He couldn't stop being sarcastic. —And how can you be so

sure?
She took the mean tone in stride.
— The mystics of Rigelus are looking for her. He wants to find her.
—He doesn't know what I know.

— No... he knows more than you. I wouldn't try so hard if I believed
Bryce was dead. Or in Hell. He knows something else.
Ruhn ignored the hope welling in his chest.

—What does that mean, then?
“So he thinks Bryce's location could make a difference. — She crossed
her arms. “It means that wherever he suspects her of being... he's worried
about it.
— I can't understand how it could make any difference.
— Then you underestimate your sister.

“Fuck you,” he cursed.
“Rigelus is not underestimating Bryce, not for a second,” she added, her
tone sterner. — A thousand mystics, Ruhn... all looking for her. Do you know
how many other tasks he usually makes them do? But now, everyone is
focused on finding her. That means he's very, very scared.
Ruhn swallowed.
—What will happen if the mystics find out where she is?
Lidia shook her head, flames enveloping her locks.
- I don't know. But he must have some plan in mind.
Ruhn asked, “Why
can't they find her? I thought mystics could find anything.
— The universe is very vast. Even a thousand mystics need

some time to scour each galaxy and star system.
- How much time?
Her eyes fluttered.
—Not as much as Bryce might need…if he is, in fact, trying to do the

impossible.
- What is?
— Get help.
Ruhn couldn't take it anymore. He turned to his side of the bridge.
— Spirit.
He stopped, shuddering at the way she said his name, remembering
what it was like to hear it for the first time, after the equinox ball, when she
discovered who he was.
But that was the problem, wasn't it? She knew who he was... and he
knew who she was. I knew that despite being Agent Daybright, she had
been the Doe for decades before she decided to rebel. He had committed
many despicable acts for Sandriel and had punished them long before he
killed the Harpy to save his life. Did changing sides erase your past?
She said quietly:
— I'm doing what I can to help you.
Ruhn looked over his shoulder. She hugged her own waist.
“I don't care what you're fucking doing. I only came here because other
lives may depend on it.
There was pain in his eyes, which made him even more angry.
How dare she look at him like that, like she was hurt, when it was his
fucking heart that...
“You're dead to me,” Ruhn hissed, and disappeared.
“It's too narrow for me to fly,” Azriel said, scanning the seemingly endless
abyss between them and the rest of the tunnel. This time there was no
bridge at all. Just a narrow, infinite fall. There was no room for Azriel to
spread his wings. It was too vast for them to jump.
— Is this another manipulation? — Bryce asked Nesta coldly.
Nesta snorted.
— The stone doesn't lie. He can't open his wings even halfway.
Coming so far only to return with no answers, with nothing to help

her return home... the star was still shining ahead.
Pointing to the other side of the abyss.
—Does anyone have a rope? asked Bryce pathetically.
In response, he received skeptical silence. Bryce pointed at Azriel. —
Those shadows of yours could take a form... they caused the collapse.
Couldn't you make a bridge or something? Or its blue light... you seemed
to believe it would be able to stop the worm. Make a rope out of it.
He raised his eyebrows.

— None of these options are viable. The shadows are made of
magic, but very condensed. This here,” he pointed to the
blue stones in your armor — it concentrates all my power and allows me

to transform it into weapon-like things. But still just magic... power.
Bryce's mouth twisted to the side.

— So it's like a laser? — With the language now imprinted in their
brain, it was difficult to say laser, as if it were a foreign word to them.
She pronounced it as she did in Midgard, but with the accent of this
world, distorting the word a little.
“I have no idea what it is,” Azriel replied.
At the same time, Nesta declared:
— Anyway, it doesn't solve the problem of getting to the other side.
But Bryce frowned at Azriel.

— Have you ever used this power to, um, recharge someone?
— Reload?
— Like fuel. Um... provide your power to another
person, to help their power.
— Are you saying I could do that to you?
— I'm pretty sure the battery concept doesn't make much sense
here, but it does. My magic can be amplified by someone else's power.
— Another untranslatable word, drums, weighed on his tongue.
Nesta watched her.

- For what?
—So I can teleport. —Another untranslated word. - Pass through. —
She pointed to the other side of the divide. — I could cross us there.
Azriel said:
— Give me a reason that makes me believe that you wouldn't cross
alone and leave us here.
- I don't have. You need to believe me.
— After what you just did?
“Remember, I'm going to trust you not to poke a hole in the
middle of my chest. — She pointed to the star. —Aim right there.
— I already said: we don't want to kill you.
—Then aim carefully.
Azriel and Nesta exchanged glances.

Bryce added, “Look,
I'd offer something in return if I could. But you literally took away
everything I had that was most valuable. — She pointed to the sword on
Azriel's back.
Nesta tilted her head. Then he reached into his pocket.
— What about that?
The cell phone.
Her cell phone. The screen lit up with Nesta's movement, glowing in
the darkness, showing Hunt's face. That beautiful, wonderful face, so full
of joy...
Azriel and Nesta also squinted because of the strong light, the photo,
and the cell phone disappeared again, after being stuffed into Nesta's
pocket again.
— There's an image hidden inside the cover — added Nesta. — You
with three other females.
The photo of Bryce, Danika, June and Fury. He had forgotten that he
had placed it there before going to Pangera. Right there, in Nesta's pocket,
protected by those fancy waterproofing charms she had purchased, was
her only link to Midgard. With the people he cared about. And if she was
stuck in this shitty world... that could be the last thing she had left.
— Were you waiting to rub it in my face? asked Bryce.
Nesta shrugged.
— I thought you might find it valuable.
—And how do you know I'm not bluffing? Making you think it has some
meaning just to leave you down here?
— For the same reason that made her run back to check if we were
alive — Azriel replied coldly.
Right. The very attitude exposed her. Finally, he said to Azriel:
— Aim for the star.
—How much power should I use?
Gods, this had everything to go wrong. Experimenting with a power
she neither knew nor understood...
- Little. Just be careful not to fry me.

After all that nonsense with the worm, surely this must have been
what he wanted most. But Azriel's lips curved upward.
— I'll do what I can.

Bryce braced himself, taking a deep breath...
Azriel hit her before she could breathe out. A scorching, slicing
power, a blue strike right at his star. Bryce leaned over, coughing,
breathing as he felt the burn, the strangeness of the unknown power.
- Are you well? Nesta asked, something like concern in her voice.
Was it due to his power? Or something from that world? Not even
Hunt's power made her feel this way, so fearless, like the purest of
drinks.
Bryce closed his eyes and counted to ten, breathing heavily.
Letting the power sit in your blood. In your bones.
Tingling in your limbs.
She slowly straightened up, opening her eyes. By the way their
faces were lit up, he knew their gaze had become incandescent.
They were tense, hands on their weapons, preparing themselves in

case she ran away or attacked. But Bryce stretched out his hands—
which now glowed white—to them.
Nesta held on first. Then she felt Azriel's hand, battered and
scarred, slide into hers. Light emanated from where their skin touched.
She could have sworn his shadows were hovering, watching like
curious snakes.
Bryce visualized the tunnel entrance. I wanted to go there...
In the blink of an eye, it was done.
The pure power that dominated her vanished with the leap. Enough
so that its incandescence diminished and the skin returned to normal.
Until, finally, only his star continued to shine.
But she noticed that Azriel and Nesta were watching her with expressions
many different. With caution, but something akin to respect too.
“Come on,” Azriel said, letting go of her hand. Because now, the sword and the
knife weren't just about pulling. They were vibrating, and all she had to do was reach
out...
But before he could give in to temptation, Azriel threw himself into the
darkness.
Staying a few centimeters away was still not enough to block the vibration of
the blades. But Bryce tried to ignore it, aware that Nesta was watching her closely.
He tried to pretend everything was fine.
Even though I knew I wasn't. Not even a little. And there was
feeling that what awaited her at the end of the tunnels would be even worse.
***
“The Cauldron,” Nesta said hours later, pointing to another drawing on the wall. In
fact, there was a gigantic cauldron on what appeared to be the peak of a barren
mountain with three stars on top.
Azriel stopped, head tilted. — It's

Ramiel. — When he noticed Bryce's questioning look, he explained: — A
mountain sacred to the Illyrians.
Bryce nodded at the drawing.
— Why is a cauldron so important?
“The Cauldron,” Azriel corrected. Bryce shook his head, not understanding. —
Are there no stories about him in your world? Didn't the Fae keep this tradition?
Bryce studied the gigantic cauldron.

— No. We have five gods, but no cauldron. What he does?
“All kinds of life come from him,” Azriel said with something like reverence. —
The Mother placed him in this world, and life emerged from there.
Nesta said softly:

— It's true, it's not a myth. — He swallowed audibly.
— I became High Fae when an enemy pushed me into it. It's raw power, but one
also... sentient.
— Like that mask you put on earlier.

Azriel closed his wings tightly, obviously worried about talking about
such a powerful instrument with a potential enemy. But Nesta asked, “Did
you detect sentience in the Mask?”
Bryce nodded.
— She didn't talk to me or anything. I just... felt it.
—And what did it feel like? — Nesta asked softly.
— It felt like death. Bryce exhaled. — Death in person.
Nesta's gaze seemed more distant, more serious. —
That's what the Mask does: it gives its wearer power over Death itself.
Bryce's blood ran cold.

— And this is... a normal type of weapon around here?
— No — Azriel replied from the front, shoulders tense. - It is not.
Nesta explained:
— The Mask is one of the three objects of catastrophic power, Made
by Caldeirão itself. We call them Nefarious Treasures.
— And the Mask is... yours?
“I was also Made by the Cauldron,” Nesta replied. -, O
that allows me to carry it. — She spoke without pride, without bragging. The
purest and coldest resignation and acceptance of responsibility.
— Done. — Bryce pondered. — You said my tattoo
it was
done. “It's a mystery to us,” Nesta said. — It would be necessary to
have the Ink prepared by the Cauldron, in this world, for it to be like this.
O Chifre, I have been given a gift. The gates raised by Theia from Pelias to Midgard.
Perhaps it was also forged by the Cauldron.
Bryce kept that knowledge, kept the questions it raised.
— We have nothing like the Cauldron on Midgard. Solas is our sun god,
Cthona is his partner and earth goddess. Luna is his sister, the moon;
Ogenas, Cthona's jealous sister, lives in the seas. And Urd guides everyone,
she is the weaver of luck, of destiny. — Bryce added after a while: — I think
I'm here because of her.
“Urd,” Nesta muttered. —The fae say the

Caldeirão controls our destinies. Maybe he became this Urd.
“I don't know,” Bryce replied. — I always wondered what happened to
the gods of the original worlds when their people ended up on Midgard.
Did they follow them? Did I bring Urd, Luna or any of them with me? —
She gestured to the caves. —Are they here, or am I alone, abandoned in
a world with no gods to call my own?
They start walking again, questions hanging in the air, unanswered.
Bryce asked, because part of her needed to know after seeing the
Masquerade:
— Where do your souls go after death? — Did they even believe in
the concept of a soul? Maybe it would be better to start there.
But Azriel replied, in a soft voice: — They

return to the Mother, where they rest in peace, joyful, close to her
heart, until she finds another purpose for us. Another life or another world
for us to live. — He looked sideways at her. — And in your world?
Bryce felt his stomach drop. - It is

complicated.
With nothing else to do as they walked, she explained: the Bone
Quarter and other Realms of Stillness, the Underking and the Sailboats.
The black boats that tipped over or reached the shore. The Milestones of
Death that allowed you to buy a ticket. Finally he explained the secundalux,
the soul grinder that transformed the remaining energy into more food for
the asteri.
When he finished speaking, his companions continued to
silence. It was not a silence of contemplation, but of horror.
— So this is what awaits you? — Nesta finally asked. — Become...
food?
“No,” Bryce replied quietly. — I, ah... I don't know what will become of
me.
- Why? — asked Azriel.
—That friend I mentioned, the one who discovered the truth about the
asteri. When she died, I was worried, because I thought they wouldn't give
her the honor of going to the coast in her Sailboat. I... couldn't allow you to
go through this insult anymore. At that time, I still didn't know about
secundalux. I made a deal with the Under-King: my soul, my place in the
Bone Quarter in exchange for hers. — The horrifying silence came again.
—So when I die, I won't stay there. I do not know where I'm going.
— It must be a little comforting — Nesta commented — to know that at

least you're not going to the Bone Quarter. Be devoured. — She shrugged.
“Yes,” Bryce agreed. — But then what will happen?

— Do you still have a soul? — Nesta asked.
- Sincerely? I don't know,” Bryce admitted. — I feel so.
But what will remain alive when I die? — She took a deep breath. — And if
I die in this world... what will happen to my soul? Will she find her way back
to Midgard or stick around? — The words sounded even more depressing
when said out loud.
Something extremely bright dazzled his eyes — his cell phone.

Hunt smiled at her.
“Here,” said Nesta. Bryce picked up his cell phone without saying a
single word, blinking back tears after seeing Hunt. —You kept your word
and crossed us. So stick with it.
Bryce knew she was due more than that, but she nodded.
in gratitude anyway.
She showed the screen to Nesta and Azriel.
“This is Hunt,” he said hoarsely, “my partner.
Azriel looked at the photo.
— He has wings.
Bryce nodded, his throat unbearably tight.
— He's an angel... a malakh. — But talking about him made his eyes
burn, so he put his cell phone in his pocket.
As they walked, Nesta said, "When we
stop again... can you show me how this contraption works?"
- The cell phone? — The word couldn't be translated into their language
and it sounded ridiculous with that accent.
Nesta nodded, her eyes glued to the tunnel in front of her.
— We almost went crazy trying to figure out what he does.
***
Tharion cornered the dragon in the pit bathroom. He could barely stand, his
left leg had a cut made by the claws of a jaguar shifter he faced at lunchtime,
as entertainment. But that night, prime time wouldn't be his—not with Ithan
in the ring.
“Don't fucking kill Holstrom,” he warned Ariadne.

She threw her head back, her eyes twinkling as they met his.
- What? Who said I'm going to face him?

Tharion and the others had spent the last twenty-four hours debating
who the Viper Queen would choose to face Ithan. And at that moment, with
less than an hour to go before the clash and without any opponent
announced...
— Who else would the Viper put against him? You are the strongest here.
The only one that would make the fight worth it.
—So flattering.
— Don't kill him — complained Tharion.
She blinked.
- Or else?
Tharion gritted his teeth.
— He is a good male, and very important to several people.
If you kill him, you will play Viper's game. Make the fight quick, and make it
as painless as possible.
Ari gave a cold laugh that contrasted with the burning heat in his eyes.
— I don't take orders from you.

— No, he doesn't — agreed Tharion. —But you can take some advice.
If you kill Ithan, or cause very serious injuries, you will conquer more
enemies than you would be able to defend yourself against.
Starting with Tristan Flynn, who seems like a calm goofball, but could very
well tear you apart with his bare hands... and me too.
Ariadne sighed and tried to get around him. Tharion grabbed her arm, his
fingertip claws digging into her soft flesh.
- I'm serious.
- What about me? — she sneered.
- What do you have?
— Are you going to warn Ithan not to hurt me?
He blinked.
— You are a dragon.
Another one of those humorless laughs.
— I have a job to do. And I also took an oath.
— Always wanting to be the best of all.
She tried to free her arm, but he dug his nails in harder.
She hissed:
— I'm not part of your little group of conspirators, and I don't want to be. I
don't give a shit and walk about you, or whatever you're trying to do against
the asteri. It's pretty obvious that they're all going to end
dead.
— So what do you want, Ari? Live like this?
Her skin heated up, burning his palm, and he had no choice but to let go.
She stomped to the hallway door that led to the eerily silent ring. As the Viper
Queen had promised, only she would watch.
Ariadne opened the door, but looked over her shoulder:

— Do you prefer wolf cooked with barbecue sauce or broth?
fleshy?
***
“So a cell phone,” Nesta commented, pronouncing the word exaggeratedly

as they crossed another stream, jumping from rock to rock, “takes these
photos that capture a moment but not the people in them?”
“Cell phones have cameras,” Bryce replied, “and a camera is like making an
an object that... yes. It's time. instantaneous drawing of a cell phone.
— Gods, so many words and terms from the language itself to explain. She continued: —
But with perfect finishes, full of details. And don't ask me any more than that, because I
have no idea how it works in practice.
Nesta laughed, landing gracefully on the opposite bank. Azriel walked forward, into
the darkness, the carvings around him illuminated by Bryce's star: more war, more death,
more suffering... this time on a grander scale, entire cities in flames, people screaming in
pain, devastation and suffering at even greater levels. No paradise to counteract the
suffering. Just
death.
Nesta stopped by the riverbank to wait for Bryce
finished crossing.
— And he also has music. Like a Symphony?
— I don't know what this is about, but yes, he has music. I have thousands of songs
here.
— Thousands? Nesta stirred as Bryce jumped from the last rock to the shore, gravel
sliding beneath her sneakers. — In this tiny little thing? Did you record them all?
— No... there's a whole industry full of people whose job it is to record these songs
and, once again, I have no idea how it works in practice. — Once he had his footing, Bryce
followed Azriel, a burly shadow silhouetted against the dark.
Nesta appeared beside her.

— And it's a way of communicating between minds.
- More or less. You connect with other people's cell phones
people, and voices connect in real time...
— And let me guess: you have no idea how it works in
practice.
Bryce
laughed. — It's pathetic, but it's the truth. We accept technology without asking how
the hell it works. I couldn't even tell you how the cell phone flashlight works. — To
demonstrate, she pressed the button and the cave lit up, the scenes of battle and suffering
in the
walls around them became even more painful. Azriel muttered ahead,
turning toward them with one hand shielding his eyes, and Bryce quickly
turned off the flashlight.
Nesta smiled.
— I'm surprised this thing isn't capable of cooking and changing your
clothes, too.
— Wait a few years and maybe he'll make it.
—But do you have magic to do these things?
Bryce shrugged.
— Yes. Magic and technology kind of overlap in my world. But for those
who don't have much of the former, technology helps a lot to fill in the gaps.
— And that artillery you showed — commented Azriel, his voice low,
stopping walking so that they could catch up to him. — Those...
weapons.
“It was technology,” Bryce explained, “not magic. But some Vanir must
have found a way to combine magic and machines to lethal effect.
The silence weighed between them.

"We're here," Azriel declared, pointing into the darkness beyond.
in front of you. The reason, after all, why he had stopped.
A huge metal wall blocked the way, nine meters high and at least nine
meters wide, with a gigantic eight-pointed star in the middle.
The carvings went on: battles and suffering, two females running on
either side of the passage, as if towards that wall... in fact, there was an arc
engraved around the star. As if that was destiny all along.
Bryce looked at Nesta, who was standing behind her.

— Is this where you saw my star?
Nesta shook her head slowly, looking at the wall, the star adornment,
and the cavern that surrounded them.
— I don't know where this place is. What is this place.
“There's only one way to find out,” Bryce said, with a courage he didn't
feel, and approached the wall. Azriel, as a force of
nature beside her, also approached, her hand already resting on the
Revealer of Truth.
The lower tip of the star extended downward, right in front of
Bryce. Then, she placed her hand on the metal and pushed. Anything
it happened.
Nesta stopped next to Bryce, leaning against the metal. A thump

noise reverberated off the cave walls.
— Did you really think you were going to move?
Bryce grimaced.
- It was worth trying.
Nesta opened her mouth to say something—probably to provoke
Bryce—but was silenced by the roar of metal. She took a step back,
shocked. Azriel raised an arm in front of her, blue light twisting in his
injured hand.
Leaving Bryce alone in front of the door.
But she wouldn't move even if she wanted to. I couldn't take the
eyes of the moving wall.
The points of the stars began to expand and contract, as if they
were breathing. Metal creaked behind them, like gears moving, locks
opening.
And, at the lowest point of the star, a triangle-shaped door opened.
A dry, ancient darkness waited beyond the starry door. There was no
sound or any sign of life. Just more darkness. Older, somehow, than the
tunnel they left behind. Heavier. More vigilant.
As if she were alive. And hungry.

Anyway, Bryce walked in.
- What is this place? — Bryce took a deep breath, daring to take
another step into the tunnel that was on the other side of the door. Azriel
and Nesta quickly followed behind her.
A metallic crunch cut through the air and Bryce turned around...
Too late. Not even Azriel, now halfway there, was fast enough to stop
the door from closing. The silent thud echoed through his feet, up his
legs. Raising dust.
They were locked there.
Bryce's star shone... and went out.
A chill ran through her arms, some primitive instinct warning her to
run, without knowing why...
Light shone on Azriel's hand; a faerie light, he had explained earlier.
Two spheres of light floated forward, illuminating a short passage. At the
end of it was a huge, round chamber, the
floor carved with symbols and designs similar to those on the tunnel walls.
Nesta whispered, her voice breathless with

fear, “This is where I last saw the star on your chest.” — She
unsheathed Ataraxia, the blade shining in the dim light. — We call this
place Prison.
***
It was like game day, Ithan told himself. The same agitation coursing
through his body, the same sharp focus taking hold of him.
But there would be no judges. No rules. No one to ask for time.
He was standing on the edge of the empty ring, right in the center of
the pit where the fights were taking place, surrounded by his friends and
Sigrid. The elves, unable to witness such violence, chose not to attend.
There was no sign of the dragon.

I hadn't dared to research how serious a third-degree burn was.
Whether he would be ready to help free Athalar and Ruhn. And apparently,
the Hellhound... what do you mean?
Focus. Survive this fight, win, and then walk away the same night. He
was good at winning. Or it already had been.
“She's going to try to distract you,” Flynn commented behind him,
staring at the empty ring. —But if you bypass the flames, I think you can
win.
“I thought that dragon lit your fire,” Declan murmured. — No pun
intended.
— Not when she's about to roast my friend.
Ithan tried to smile, but couldn't.
— Ari won't go easy on you. — Tharion finally joined the conversation.
He had returned to his suite an hour earlier, but had gone straight to his
room, slamming the door. At least he had come to watch the fight.
—Then he should...what, Ketos? asked Flynn. - To stay
standing there and turning into a barbecue?
“I bet the Viper Queen would find this very amusing,” Declan declared
grimly.
Despite being upset, Ithan smiled upon hearing this.

But Tharion's face was still serious when he said to Ithan:
— Most likely Ari will hurt you. Very. But she is

arrogant...use that against her.
Ithan felt Sigrid looking at him, but he nodded at the merman.
— Promise to save your water magic to extinguish the flames and
everything will be fine.
But Tharion wasn't in the mood for jokes.
— Holstrom, I... look, earlier I said some shit that I... — He shook his
head. — If you can get me out of here, I'll make it worth it. Just trying means
a lot. Show that you care.
— We are a pack — Ithan declared to Tharion, Flynn and Dec are what
we do—,for each other. —No one objected. O
His heart was tight.
Tharion's eyes sparkled with excitement.
- Thanks.
The double doors on the other side of the place opened to reveal the
Viper Queen in a gold jumpsuit with matching high-top sneakers.
"She'll most likely make Ari leap from the rafters in a ball of fire," Tharion
muttered as the snake shifter moved through the chamber with sinuous,
unhurried grace. Ithan looked up, but the dark part of the ring remained
empty as far as his keen wolf vision could see.
The Viper Queen stopped a few feet away and frowned at Ithan.
— Is that what you chose to use? — He analyzed the t-shirt and jeans.
The same clothes he had been wearing since he arrived in that hellish
place. But she pointed at Tharion. — I should have tidied him up a little.
Tharion said nothing, his face impassive.

The Viper Queen turned, her jumpsuit glistening like molten gold,
walking pompously towards the nearest stand.
He sat down and gave Ithan an elegant wave.
- You can start.

Ithan looked at the empty ring.
— Where's the dragon?
The Viper Queen pulled out her cell phone and typed something, the light from
the screen casting her already pale face into a sublime lividness.
—Ariadne? Ah, she is no longer my employee.
- What? — Tharion and Flynn shouted at the same time.
The Viper Queen didn't look up from her cell phone, her thumbs twitching. The
light reflected on the long nails, also painted gold.
— An hour ago, an offer came in that was too good to pass up.
refused.
— She is not a slave — Tharion irritated, his face darker.
livid than Ithan had ever seen. — You don't fucking own her.
— No — agreed the Viper Queen, still typing — but the agreement was...
advantageous for both of us. She agreed. — The Viper Queen finally raised her
head. There was no gentleness in his green eyes as he analyzed Tharion. — In my
opinion, she accepted just so she wouldn't have to turn Holstrom into a barbecue.
I would like to know who made her feel so bad about this.
Everyone turned to the merman, who gasped at the Viper Queen.
— But it's obvious — the Viper continued, returning to writing on her cell phone
— that I didn't inform the new employer that the dragon is a soft-hearted little
creature. Taking into account the new environment, I think this will change quickly.
— The sound of a message being sent punctuated his words.
Tharion looked like he was about to vomit. Ithan didn't blame him.
But Ithan forced himself to focus on what mattered, to breathe normally. She
wanted him to lose his mind. I wanted to unbalance him. He straightened his
shoulders.
— So who am I going to fight?
The Viper Queen put her cell phone in her pocket and smiled, revealing the
excessively white teeth.
— Against the heiress Fendyr, obviously.
***
AND
— Better call Rhys.

— We'd have to climb the mountain, get past the wards, and then hope we
were close enough to talk to him through the phone.
mind.
Bryce listened to the argument between Azriel and Nesta, happy to let
them debate while he scanned the chamber.
— This place is lethal — Azriel insisted in a deep voice. — Those
protections stick like tar.
“Yes,” Nesta admitted, “but we've come so far, so let's see why we were
dragged here.
— Why was she dragged here... by that star. — The two finally turned to her,
apprehensive.
Bryce composed his expression, looking the purest
innocence when asking: —
What is Prison?
Nesta pursed her lips for a second before saying, “A shadowy
island off the coast of our lands. — She looked at Azriel and pondered: — Do
you think that, somehow, we walk under the sea?
Azriel shook his head slowly, his dark hair shining under the fae lights flickering
above him.
— It's impossible for us to have walked that far. The door must be some kind
of portal that brought us here from the continent.
Nesta raised her eyebrows.
- How is this possible?
— There are caves and doors spread throughout the continent — explained
Azriel — which open to distant places. Maybe that was one of them. — He looked
at Bryce, noticing that she was listening closely, and added, — Let's go inside.
He took Bryce's hand in his, huge and scarred,

pulling it towards the camera.
His face was a mask of determination and coldness in the light of the golden
orbs that floated above them, hazel eyes darting from side to side to monitor the
darkness.
This close up, with their hands clasped, she could feel the sword and
the knife vibrating and calling again. Pulsating in your eardrums... Á
The Aster's handle moved toward her—she could pick it up and touch it
with her free hand. One movement, and she could hold him tight.
Azriel looked at her alertly.

Bryce kept a bland, bored expression. Had that look been to warn her to
be careful for her own safety, or to not make any false moves?
Maybe both.
Too soon, too quickly, they approached the entrance to the huge round
chamber at the end of the short passage. Faerie lights danced above carvings
etched into the stone floor, as ornate and detailed as those in the tunnels that
led there. The floor of the chamber was littered with them.
But between her and that room there was a feeling of evil.
omen, of heaviness, of Stay away from this shit.
Even the sword and dagger seemed to fall silent. His star remained off. As
if she had fulfilled her task. They had arrived at the place where they had been
forced to bring her.
Bryce took a deep breath.
— I'm going in. Take a step back — he warned Azriel.
— And miss out on the fun? — muttered Azriel. Nesta laughed behind
them.
“I'm serious,” Bryce replied, trying to free his hand. - Stay there.
He held her hand tighter, without letting go.

- What do you feel?
“Protections,” Bryce replied, returning to examining the cave.
the size of an arena in front of you. And there, right in the middle...
Another eight-pointed star.
It must have been the one Nesta had seen before. As if in response, the
star on Bryce's chest brightened and then dimmed.
Nesta approached them and pointed.
— The Harp was on top of that star.
—Harp? asked Bryce, noting that Azriel gave Nesta a warning look. But
the female continued
focused on the star as she said, more to herself than to them: — It had all
those protections keeping it there.
Azriel scanned the chamber, still not letting go of Bryce's hand as he
said to Nesta, "We don't
know what else might be stored here."
“I felt nothing but the Harp last time,” Nesta replied, but still assessed
the chamber with the attention of a warrior.
— We also didn't feel there was a second entrance to this place —

replied Azriel Bryce touched —, We can no longer assume anything.
the Archesian amulet around his neck. He protected her in the gallery...
allowed her to pass through Jesiba's first-level protections...
There had to be an answer there, somewhere. About something.

Anything.
Bryce clutched the amulet. Then he looked over Azriel's shoulder and
widened his eyes.
- Careful!
He let go of her hand instantly, turning towards the
invisible opponent whose presence he had not felt.
The opponent that didn't exist.
Bryce moved with fey quickness, and when Azriel noticed
There was no one there, she had already crossed the protective line.
Fury made her expression even colder, but Nesta smiled as if she
seemed to approve.
“You're on your own now,” Azriel stated, blue stones glowing in his
hands with a cold fury that matched his expression.
Bryce raised his eyebrows, taking a few steps back.

— You really can't get through?
He crouched to slide his scarred hand across the stone floor, anger
fading in the face of curiosity.
“No.” He looked at Bryce, his mouth twisted to the side. — I don't know
whether to be impressed or worried. — He stood up and pointed his chin
at Nesta. — Are you going in?
Nesta crossed her arms and stood beside him.
— Let's see what happens first.

Bryce grimaced.
- Thanks.
Nesta didn't smile. He just insisted.
- Be quick. Take a look around, but don't delay.
Bryce tried:
— I'd feel better if I had my sword.
Azriel didn't respond, his face impassive. All good. Bryce
He sighed and examined the carvings on the floor. Spirals and faces and...
The hairs on his arms stood up.
— These are the constellations of Midgard. — Bryce pointed to a cluster.
—That's the Big Shell. And this... is Orion. The hunter.
Hunt... Hunt. Seu Hunt

Her companions, the tunnels, and the world disappeared as she traced
the stars, outlining her path. The Archesian amulet warmed against his skin,
as if it was working to free itself from the protections around it.
“The Arrow,” she whispered. — The Scorpion and the Fish... this is a
map of my cosmos. — His shoe slammed against a raised half-orbit, a
screaming face carved into it. — Siph. — The outermost planet. It was on to
the next one, a similar pile with a serious male face. — Orestes.
— Orestes? — Azriel asked suddenly, drawing her attention to where he

and Nesta were, still in the tunnel arch. - The warrior?
She blinked.
- Yes.
“Interesting,” Nesta said, tilting her head. — Maybe the
name came from the same source.
Bryce indicated the next mound, the face of a bearded old man.
— Oden. — The next one, closer to the center of the room, was a young,
smiling male. — Lakos. — Another mound appeared on the other side of the
star, huge and covered with a helmet. “Thurr,” she said. Then he pointed to
a mound with a female head on it. —Farya. —And beyond Farya there was
a great high mountain with
serpentine tendrils. “Sun,” he whispered, indicating the rounded shape.
She scanned the room again and turned to the eight-pointed star.
Exactly between Lakos and Thurr.
—Midgard. — The name seemed to echo in the chamber. —
Someone went to a lot of work to make this floor. Someone who was in
my world and then came back here. Bryce glanced over his shoulder at
Nesta, the warrior's face inscrutable. — You said there was a harp in the
eight-pointed star? — The warrior agreed. —What kind of harp? Was it
special in some way?
“Whoever touched it could move between different physical spaces,”
Nesta said, a little too quickly.
- What else? asked Bryce, and his chest glowed again.
Azriel raised his hand toward Nesta, as if to cover her face.
her mouth to stop her from speaking, but she
said: — The Harp was Made. I could stop time.
— Does she stop time? — Bryce's knees shook.
He could only think of one group of people in his world who would be
capable of creating things like this. That, if he had indeed made such
objects, he had a good reason to want to return to this world. To claim
them.
"Was there ever," Bryce ventured, a sudden hunch taking shape in
his mind, "a Made object called a Horn?"
“I don't know,” Nesta replied. - Why?
Bryce looked at the eight-pointed star, the heart of the chamber, on
that map of the cosmos.
—Someone put the Harp there for some reason.
“To keep her hidden,” Azriel said.
“No,” Bryce replied softly, staring at the star, his free hand touching
the corresponding scar on his chest.
She had guided her there. To that exact place where the Harp had
been.
— It was left to someone like me.
- What do you mean? — Nesta demanded, her voice echoing off the
rocks.
But Bryce continued, the words coming out so quickly that

there was almost no pause between them:
— I think... I think all those carvings in the tunnels are a reminder of what
happened. — She pointed to the passage they had come from. — The
carvings tell a story. And they are an invitation to come here.
- Why? — asked Azriel with lethal softness.

Bryce looked at the eight-pointed star for a moment before saying:
— To discover the truth.

“Bryce,” Nesta warned, as if reading her thoughts.
Bryce didn't even look back before stepping onto the star.
Hunt coughed, seeing stars each time he gasped, spitting out blood.
— Damn, Athalar — Baxian grumbled from where he was hanging
next to Danaan, despite not being in a much better state.
They spent a few hours on the ground before Pollux hoisted them
up again. Hunt couldn't stop screaming as his shoulders dislocated
once again.
But they requisitioned Pollux elsewhere, and apparently there was
no one else in the palace with such a fucked-up mind to carry out that
kind of torture, so they left the three of them there.
Bryce. Her name came back with each wet, harsh breath.
He had wanted so many things with her. A normal and happy life. Children.
Gods, how many times had he imagined what her beautiful face
would look like as she held her beautiful winged children? They would
have their mother's hair and temperament, and his gray wings, and
every now and then he would see a glimpse of their mother's own smile
on their angelic little faces.
The last time he'd been in the dungeons, he hadn't had a vision of
the future to hold on to. Shahar was dead, taking with her most of the
Fallen and all of his dreams. But maybe that
was even worse. Getting so close to those dreams, being able to see them so
vividly, knowing that Bryce was out there... and he wasn't.
Hunt pushed those thoughts aside, their pain worse than the pain he felt in his
shoulders, in his broken body, and mumbled, “Danaan.” He's awake.
When he left earlier, the Hammer had left an opening.

Everything else, what Apollion and Aidas had hinted at, that shit about his father and
the black crown—the halo—on him... everything was secondary now.
All the failures on Mount Hermon, the Fallen dead, the loss of Shahar, becoming
a slave... secondary.
All the constant failures of the last few months, which led them to that disastrous
moment, until then... secondary.
If this was the only chance they had, he would leave everything else aside. Last
time, he had been alone. He had spent seven years down there, alone. He had for
company only the screams of his fellow Fallen being tortured in the other chambers,
serving as an hourly reminder of their defeats. This was followed by two years in
Ramiel's dungeons. Nine years alone.
He wouldn't allow the two friends next to him to pass through

same.
“Do it now, Danaan,” Hunt urged Ruhn.
“I need… a minute,” Ruhn gasped.
Damn, the prince must have been really bad to ask for something like that.
Damn proud.
“You have a few minutes,” Hunt said, gentle but firm, despite the guilt that was
twisting inside him. It was a wonder that it only took Ruhn a minute before the
squeaking of the chains began again.
— Without making any noise — warned Baxian as Ruhn moved his body back
and forth, swaying all his weight. Aiming at the shelf full of weapons and gadgets
almost within reach of his feet.
— Far... too far — Ruhn said, legs stretched out toward the bookshelf. Trying to
grab the iron poker that, if the prince's abdomen had the strength to hold it, could
turn to face him.
up and position it with your feet, cradling it in the chain links and twisting it
until, with luck, it comes loose.
It was a small chance—but any chance was worth a try.
“Here,” Hunt said, rising to his aching shoulders, feet outstretched.

Ignoring the torturous pain and taking a deep breath, Hunt kicked as Ruhn
collided with him. The prince stifled a cry of pain, but this time he managed
to get closer to the bookshelf.
“You can do it,” Baxian murmured.
Ruhn swung back, and Hunt kicked him again, his eyes filling with tears
from what the movement did to his body.
The bookshelf was still far away. A few more inches and Ruhn could
grab the poker handle with his feet, but those inches were insurmountable.
“Stop,” Hunt ordered, breathing hard. —,

we need a new plan.
“I can get it,” Ruhn grumbled.
- Can not. No chances.
Ruhn stopped swaying little by little. The three of them remained
there, in silence, the chains clanking. Then Ruhn
said: — Is your bite strong, Athalar?
Hunt stopped moving.
—What the fuck is that question?
— If I... swing you... — Ruhn said, panting — can you rip my hand off?
The shock hit Hunt like a bullet. On the other side of Ruhn, Baxian
asked: — What is it?
“I could get further,” Ruhn explained, his voice eerily calm.
“I'm not going to rip your fucking hand off,” Hunt managed to say. — It's
the
only way I can reach it. It will grow back.
“That's crazy,” Baxian added.
Ruhn nodded to Hunt.
— We need you to be Umbra Mortis. He's tough...neither

hesitaria.
“Tough,” Hunt retorted. —, not cannibal.
“Desperate times,” Ruhn replied, returning Hunt's look.
Determination and focus dominated the prince's face. No sign of doubt

or fear.
It was quite likely that Pollux would not return until morning. Maybe it
would work.
And the guilt that already weighed on Hunt, on his shattered soul... what
difference would it make, in the end? Another burden for your heart to bear.
It was the least he had to offer, after everything he had done. After guiding
them to this catastrophe.
Hunt lowered his head.
“Athalar,” Baxian interjected sharply. —, Athalaar.
Hunt looked at the Hellhound, expecting to find disgust and shock. But
all he saw was an intense conviction when Baxian spoke:
- I make.
Hunt shook his head. Despite the fact that Baxian could probably reach
him if Ruhn reached out towards him...
“I will,” Baxian insisted. — My teeth are sharper. - It was a lie. Maybe his
teeth would be sharper if he was transformed into a Hellhound, but...
— I don't care who does it — Ruhn said, do it now before I change—, only
my mind.
Hunt studied Baxian's face again. He found only calm—and pain. Baxian
said, his voice soft: — Leave this weight on
my shoulders. You can load the next one.
The Hellhound had been Hunt's enemy for many years in Sandriel's
fortress. Where did that male end up? Did he actually exist, or was he just a
mask all along? Why had Baxian even joined Sandriel in the first place?
Maybe it didn't make a difference at the time. Hunt nodded in agreement

and thanks to Baxian.
— You were a great partner for Danika — he commented.
Baxian's eyes were flooded with pain and love. Perhaps those words had
touched a wound, a doubt that had tormented him for a long time.
Hunt felt a tightness in his chest. He knew the feeling well.

But Baxian raised his head to Ruhn, holding the prince's gaze with the
solid determination that had made him known as one of Sandriel's triaries.
Here was the male with whom Hunt had stirred up trouble at the time—with
devastating results. Including that scar that snaked down Baxian's neck,
courtesy of Hunt's lightning.
— Get ready — Baxian warned Ruhn, quietly. — You can't scream.
***
With the excuse that she was menstruating, Lidia got a little privacy to think
about her plan, reflect on whether it would work or not, pace the room and
debate whether she had trusted the right people.
Trust was an unfamiliar concept to her, even before she became Agent
Daybright. The father certainly never inspired any confidence. And after her
mother sent her away, at three years old, straight into the arms of that
monstrous male... trust didn't exist in her world.
But at that moment, I had no choice but to trust.

Lidia had just changed her sanitary pad and washed her hands when
Pollux came marching into the bathroom.
— Good news — he announced, with a dazzling smile.
He seemed calmer than he had been since Quinlan had escaped.
She leaned against the bathroom door, inspecting her immaculate uniform.
- Oh yes?
— I'm surprised Rigelus didn't tell you sooner. — Pollux took off his
bloody t-shirt.
Ruhn's blood was on him, the smell filling the doors. Ruhn's blood...
With defined muscles, Pollux walked to the shower, where liters and
liters of blood were washed from his body. A kind of wild excitement seemed
to pulse through him as he turned on the tap.
— Rigelus and the others managed to repair the Harpy.

***
At first, nothing happened when Bryce stepped on the eight-pointed star.
— Well... — Nesta began.

A light shone from the star at Bryce's feet, and one from his chest, came
together and blended, and then appeared the hologram of a young, dark-
haired female—a High Fae. As if speaking to an audience.
Bryce knew that heart-shaped face. The long hair.
“Silene,” Bryce murmured.

— The carvings? Nesta asked, and when Bryce looked at her, the
warrior passed through the wards as if they weren't there.
As if he could have done it at any time. Azriel didn't try to stop her, but
remained standing at the tunnel entrance. — At the beginning of the tunnels
— added Nesta there was a carving of a young—,female... you said her name
was Silene.
“The carving is just like her,” Bryce replied, nodding. —But who is she?
Azriel spoke in a soft voice, filled with pain: —

She looks like Rhysand's sister.
Nesta looked at him, something like curiosity and empathy written on
her face. Bryce wanted to ask what this connection meant, but the hologram
spoke:
— My story begins before I was born. — The female's voice was mournful,
melancholic. Tired and sad. — In a time that I only know through the stories my
mother tells, through my father's memories. — She raised a finger to the space
between her eyebrows. — They both already showed it to me once, in my mind.
And I will show you.
“Careful,” warned Azriel, but it was already too late. Silene's face
disappeared and the mist swirled where she was. It glowed, casting light on
Nesta's shocked face as she stopped next to Bryce.
Bryce turned to look at the female.

— At the first sign of confusion — said Nesta, quietly people run. —, a
Bryce nodded. I could agree to such conditions. Then, Silene's voice rose
from the mist. And any promise of running away disappeared from Bryce's mind.
We lived as slaves of the daglan. For five thousand years, our people—the
High Fae—knelt at their feet. They were cruel, powerful, cunning. Any attempt
at rebellion was put down before the forces could come together. My ancestors
tried for generations. They all failed.
The fog finally dissipated.
And in their wake spread a field of corpses under a gray sky, similar to that
carved kilometers ago in the tunnels: crucifixes, beasts, blood eagles...
The daglan commanded the High Fae. And we, in turn, commanded the
humans and lands that the daglan allowed us to command. However, it was an
illusion of power. We knew who our true masters were. We were obliged to pay
the Tribute once a year. Offering parts of our power in reverence. To fuel their
power — and limit ours.
Bryce found it difficult to breathe as the image of a female fae kneeling at

the foot of a throne appeared, a seed of light in her upraised hands. Soft,
delicate fingers held the fae female's drop of power. Power flickered, illuminating
pale skin.
The hand that claimed power rose and Bryce stiffened as the memory
expanded and revealed the hand's owner: a dark-haired, white-skinned
asteri.
There was no mistaking the cold, unearthly eyes. She wore golden
robes, a crown of stars on her head. The red lips curled into a cold smile
as the hand closed tightly around the seed of power.
She faded, absorbed into the asteri's body.

Over the millennia, the daglan became arrogant, overconfident about
their unending dominance over our world. But this excess of confidence
ended up causing them to not notice the enemies accumulating, with a
force never seen before.
Bryce still couldn't breathe properly, air caught in his throat, Nesta
still at his side, as the scene changed to show a golden-haired High Fae
standing a step behind the asteri's throne. His chin was high, his face
was as cold as his mistress's.
My mother served alongside that monster for a century, a servant to

his every sick whim.
Bryce knew who it was before Silene spoke again. She knew who
owned the truth by which she had been guided there, through the stars,
to finally discover it.
Theia.
Lidia froze upon hearing Pollux's words as he stepped under the hot
spray of the shower.
— What do you mean, they fixed the Harpy?
The Hammer replied over the sound of the water, tilting his head to
wet his golden hair: — They're working
on it as a kind of little project...
Rigelus just told me. Apparently, everything is going well.
— What's going well? — asked Lidia, using all her training to keep
her heartbeat at the right pace.
— She will wake up. Rigelus needs one more thing. — Pollux
opened the shower door and reached for her. More of an order than an
invitation.
With fingers that seemed distant, Lidia unbuttoned her uniform.
— What about my period? — she asked, as shy as she could be.
“The water will wash away the blood,” Pollux said, and she hated
the weight of his gaze as he undressed. As she entered, the scalding
temperature of the water made her shiver. Pollux just pulled her against
his naked body, pressing his erection against her.
— When will the Harpy wake up? — Lidia asked when Pollux's
mouth found her neck and he bit down hard enough to make her shiver
again.
If the Harpy came back and said what she had seen, who would actually tell her?
we...
None of Lidia's plans, no matter how well thought out, would matter.
Pollux slid his hand down her ass, cupping and squeezing.
He bit her ear, completely unaware of the dread that filled her as he
spoke against her wet skin.
- Shortly. — Another squeeze, this time stronger. — One more or
two days and we will have her back.
***
The Viper Queen's announcement could very well have been a sulfur
bomb dropped into the room.
Tharion looked at Ithan, Sigrid, and the snake shifter. A
Heiress Fendyr stared at the female, her face pale with shock.
The Viper Queen spoke slowly:
— What did you actually tell me? That I was no better than the
Astronomer? — She waved her manicured hand toward the ring, the
gold nail polish shining. — Well, here's a chance to free yourself. I don't
think he ever offered you anything like that.
— I'm not going to fight Sigrid — Ithan warned, furious.

— Then you and your friends will stay here — explained the Viper
Queen, leaning back and resting her head in her hands. — And whatever
urgent rescue mission they had set up for your other friends, it's going
to go wrong.
That idiot knew everything.
— Let me fight Holstrom — Tharion fumed.
— No — replied the Viper Queen with sweet venom in her voice. —
Holstrom and the girl are going to face each other, or the deal is off.
— You damn... — began Flynn.

— I will — interrupted Sigrid, clenching her fists at her sides.
Everyone turned to the Fendyr heiress. Ithan grimaced, the

purest portrait of anguish.
Tharion noticed that pain and wished he had never been born. Your
choices had led everyone there. The shit he had done.
“That's good,” said the Viper Queen to Sigrid, who was showing her teeth to
the snake. But the ruler of the Meat Market gave the wolf a serpent smile. — It
looks like this could be your last night on Midgard. Maybe it would be better to
upgrade your wardrobe after all.
***
Bryce stared at the beautiful, hard-featured female, who could rival the Doe in
wickedness and beauty. Theia.
Silene's next words only served to confirm the
how similar the ancient Fae Queen and the Doe were:
But my mother, Theia, used her time serving the daglan to learn all she
could about their instruments of conquest. The Nefarious Treasures, as we
secretly called them. The Mask, the Harp, the Crown and the Horn.
Out of the corner of his eye, Bryce noticed Nesta watching her, after
hear the last word.
The Horn was brother to the Mask and the Harp that Nesta had mentioned.
It had come from here and, worse, it was part of some deadly asteri arsenal...
It's Theia.
The carving in the tunnel that displayed a crowned and masked queen,
Theia, appeared in Bryce's mind. She held two instruments: a horn and a harp.
The daglan, Silene continued, always disagreed about who should control
the Treasury, so most of the time the Treasury went unused. That's what caused
their downfall.
Was that why then? What was she sent to that world for? To find out more
about this Treasury — which could, perhaps,
destroy the asteri? But Bryce could only watch as the vision showed Theia's
hands plucking objects from the black pedestals. Taking them away from the
underground mountains where they were kept, using arch-shaped caves to
move quickly across the land.
Caves like that. Capable of transporting people

great distances in a matter of hours. Or in an instant.
Snow covered the image and then Theia was on top of a mountain, a black
monolith rising behind her.
“Ramiel,” Azriel whispered behind them, beyond the wards.
Theia hugged a handsome, broad-shouldered male amidst the snowstorm.
My mother and father, Fionn, kept their love a secret over the years,
knowing that the daglan would love to tear them apart if they found out about
their affair. But the two managed to meet in secret — and plan the insurrection.
“Fionn,” Azriel murmured, admiration in his voice, “it was your

ancestral.
Nesta took her eyes off the vision and looked at Azriel, furrowing her
eyebrows.
— You should come in at once — he murmured and pointed. The silver
flame rippled in a straight line, hurtling towards Azriel. He didn't retreat, he just
closed his wings tightly as jets of smoke rose from the ground.
A path through protections. The spells glowed against the flames, as if

trying to get closer to the road she had created, but Nesta's power kept them
away.
Azriel tilted his head at Nesta as he walked through the narrow passage
lined with silver flames, without a hint of fear on his beautiful face. Nesta only
ceased her power when Azriel passed, the wards falling back into place in a
flickering motion, like a wave sweeping the shore.
Bryce pointed at the hologram, at the haired fae male.

golden.
- Who is he? — he asked softly. There has never been any mention of
Fionn in the stories and legends of Midgard.
“The first and last High King of these lands,” Azriel whispered.
Before Bryce could think more about it, Silene continued, But my mother
and father knew they needed the most valuable of
all daglan weapons.
Bryce tensed. This had to be the weapon that gave them the advantage...
The snow around Ramiel dissipated, revealing a huge iron vessel at the
base of the monolith. Even through vision, his presence seeped into the world,
something heavy and sinister.
“The Cauldron,” Nesta said, her voice filled with dread.
So, it wasn't a useful weapon. Bryce braced himself as Silene continued.
The Cauldron was from our world, our heritage. But upon arriving here, the
daglan captured him and used their powers to distort him. To transform it into
something more lethal. No longer a tool of creation, but of destruction.
And the horrors that came from... those would also be enjoyed by my parents.
Another memory came, Fionn pulling a long blade from the Cauldron,
dripping with water. A dark blade, whose dark metal absorbed any trace of light
around it. Bryce's knees weakened. Aster.
Two other figures stood there, veiled by the thick snow, but Bryce barely
had time to think about them before Silene's narration began again.
They fought the daglan and won, she continued. They destroyed them by
using the daglan's own weapons against them. But my parents didn't think to
learn the daglan's other secrets—they were too tired, too eager to overcome
the past.
“Wait,” Bryce interrupted. — How did they use these weapons? — Nesta
and Azriel cast wary glances in their direction.
— How the fuck did they use it? And what other secrets...?
But Silene kept talking, the story spilling out of her mouth.
My father became High King, and my mother, his queen. But this island
you're on, this place... my mother claimed it for herself. The same island where
she had once served as a slave became her domain, her sanctuary. The
female daglan who had ruled before her had chosen her for
its strategic location, which allowed defense, the fog that kept it hidden from
others. And my mother did the same. But on top of that, she told me several
times that she and her heirs were the only ones worthy of taking care of this
island.
Nesta murmured to Azriel, “Was
the Prison once royal territory?”
Bryce didn't care; and Azriel didn't respond. Silene had covered up how
Theia and Fionn used the Treasures and the Cauldron against the Asteri, and
why the Hell had she gone to that planet if not to learn that?
Once again, Silene's memory continued.

And without the daglan here, as the centuries passed, as neither we nor
the land needed to offer Tribute, our powers grew stronger. The earth grew
stronger. It returned to the way it was before the arrival of the daglan, millennia
before. We also returned to what we were, creatures whose magic was tied to
this land. Thus, the powers of the earth became my mother's. Dusk, dusk—
that was what dwelt in the long-buried heart of the island, in which her power
flourished, the lands rising with it.
It was, in her words, as if the island had a soul that now thrived under her care,
nurtured by the court she built here.
Islands, like those they had seen in the carvings, rose from the sea, lush
and fertile.
Bryce couldn't stop looking at the wonderful sight, even as Silene continued
to speak.
After centuries of an empty womb, my mother gave birth to my sister and
me over a period of five years. By this time, my father was already disappearing
—he was centuries older than my mother. But Fionn didn't consider my mother
a worthy successor. The crown should go to the oldest descendant, he said—
to my sister, Helena. According to him, it was time for a new generation to lead.
Which didn't please my mother, nor many of the members of her court;
especially his general, Pelias. He agreed with my mother that Helen was too
young to inherit our father's throne. But my mother was still in her prime. Still
full of power, and it was evident that she had been blessed by the gods
themselves, as she had daughters after a long wait.
So it was just like before: those who were after the

throne came together for a revolution.
The image changed to a kind of swamp — a swamp.
Fionn rode through the grass of the islands, bow in hand as he dodged
the blossoming trees.
My parents used to hunt on the vast tract of land that the daglan
maintained as their private hunting park, where they bred terrible monsters
to serve as worthy prey. It was there that he met his death.
A pale, dark-haired creature that could be related to the nøkk in
Jesiba's gallery dragged Fionn, bound and gagged, into the dark depths
of the swamp—the once-proud king screaming as he sank.
The horror made Bryce freeze in place.

Theia and Pelias stood at the water's edge, their expressions
impassive.
Petals began to fall from the trees. The sheets accompanied it. The
birds took flight. As if winter had suddenly taken over the swamp. As if
the earth had died with its king.
The Aster appeared from the center of the lake, shining in the gray
light. A second later, a scaly hand raised a knife—the Truth Revealer.
Remains or a gift from the creature, Bryce surmised as they glistened in
the gray light, dripping water. Whatever... faced with such betrayal and
brutality, who cared?
My father never showed any generosity; He kept Gwydion for a long
time and never offered it to my mother. The dagger that had belonged to
his dear friend, killed during the war, hung on his waist, unused. But not
for long.
Theia held out her hands towards the water and the offered blades.
And with phantom wings, sword and knife flew to her. Summoned into
your hands.
Starlight shone on Theia as she caught the sword and knife out of the
air, the blades gleaming with her own starlight.
My mother returned that day with just Pelias and my father's blades.
Because they had been Made with her help, they responded to the call in
their blood. To her power.
Bryce knew that calling. I had been listening to it since I arrived in that world. A
shiver ran down his spine.
And then she took the Treasures for herself.
Theia sat on the throne, the Harp and Horn at her side, the
Mask on your lap and the Crown on top of your head.
Unrestrained and unlimited power was on that throne. Bryce almost
I couldn't breathe.
The Theia of whom Aidas had spoken so highly... was she a murderous tyrant?
As if in response, Silene said: Our people
have bowed. What other option did they have in the face of such power? And for
a short time, she ruled. I couldn't say if the years were good for my people; but there
was no war. At least that. “Yeah,” Bryce hissed, more to
Silene than the others. —,
at least that.
My sister and I grew up. We were educated by our mother, who always reminded
us that, even though the daglan had been defeated, evil was still alive. Evil lurked
beneath our feet, always waiting to devour us. I believe she said that to keep us
honest and loyal, certainly more than she ever was. However, as we grew older and
grew in our powers, it became clear that only one of us could inherit the throne. I
loved Helena more than anything. If she wanted the throne, she would have it. But
her interest was as little as mine.
It wasn't enough for my mother. Having everything she ever wanted wasn't
enough.
“Typical self-centered mother,” Bryce muttered.
My mother remembered the daglan's conversation, that they had mentioned
other worlds. Places they had conquered. And with two daughters and a throne...
only entire worlds would do for us. For her legacy.
Bryce shook his head again. I knew where this would lead.
Remembering the teachings of her former mistress, my mother knew she could
wield the Horn and Harp to open a door. To take the Fae to new heights, new wealth
and new prestige.
Bryce rolled his eyes. The same corrupt and delusional fae rulers, millennia away.
However, when she announced her vision to the court, many were against it.
They had just overthrown their conquerors, and now they would become
conquerors too? They demanded that she close the door and forget about
this insanity.
But she was not deterred. There were enough fae in their lands, along
with some of the southern firebearers, who supported the idea, merchants
who salivated at the thought of the untapped riches of other worlds. And so
she assembled a team.
Pelias instructed her where to focus her intentions. Using star maps
old and with notes from his former masters, he chose a world for them.
Bryce's stomach dropped. The asteri must have kept archives and
records from this world as well. Just like the room Bryce found in the palace,
full of notes about conquered planets. Twilight, they named the room. As if,
of all the worlds mentioned inside, that world remained their focus. That
place.
Pelias told her that it was a world the daglan had long coveted but had
not had the chance to conquer. An empty but abundant world.
She had no way of knowing that Pelias had spent our era of peace
learning ancient summoning magics and scouring the cosmos for what
remained of the daglan on other worlds. I wonder what he wanted with them;
perhaps he knew that, to wrest the Treasury from Theia and seize power for
himself, he needed someone more powerful than himself.
— You idiot — Bryce blurted out when he saw the image of Pelias and
Theia hovering over a table full of star maps. — You two: fucking idiots.
And after all this searching, someone finally answered: a daglan who
used his army of mystics to scour galaxies in search of our world. The daglan
promised all the rewards to Pelias, if only he could convince my mother, right
now, to use the Grim Treasures to open a portal to the world he indicated.
Stepping next to her, Nesta clicked her tongue in disgust.

My mother didn't question it when Pelias, her conspirator and ally, told
her she should use the Horn and Harp to open a door to this world. She
didn't question how and why he knew this island, our mist-shrouded home,
was the best place to do this. She just brought together our people, all those
willing to conquer and colonize, and opened the door.
In a chamber—this chamber, if the eight-pointed star on the floor was

any indication, though the celestial carvings had not yet been made—
beside the red-haired fae who looked alarmingly like Bryce's father,
appeared Helena and Silene, all grown up. and beautiful, but still young,
clumsy. Teenagers.
In the center of the chamber, a gate opened onto a green, sandy land.
sunny. And there, standing among the vegetation, waiting for them...
- Oh shit. Bryce's mouth went dry. — Rigelus.
The fae teenager, who looked no older than Helena and
Silene smiled at Theia. He raised his hand in greeting.
My mother did not recognize the enemy with such a friendly expression
who called her and the others through the portal. If she had hesitated when
she discovered that the empty world she had been promised was, in fact,
populated, she was reassured when the strangers claimed to be fae too,
long separated from our world by the daglan, whom they also claimed to
have defeated. They said they had waited all that time to gather our people.
With a few words from the daglan, my mother's doubts were resolved.
dissipated and our exodus to Midgard began.
Long lines of fae crossed the chamber, through the portal, entering
Midgard.
Nausea took over Bryce.
— She opened the front door for the asteri. I brought the Treasures
straight to them.
“Idiot,” Nesta snarled at the image. — Power-hungry idiot.
But if Theia opened the door to this realm, if she had the Horn and the
Harp, why didn't the Asteri grab them both right away? They wanted this
world, they wanted the Treasure, and Theia practically handed them both
on a platter. The Asteri were too smart, too wicked, to have forgotten that.
So, it was likely that they had a plan in mind...
By the grace of the Mother, she was so paranoid about any new allies
or companions that she hid the Horn and the Harp. She created a pocket
of nothing, from what she told me, and hid them there. Only she had access
to the pocket of nothing—only she could retrieve the Horn and Harp from
its depths. But she didn't know that Pelias had already told the daglan about
the existence of these artifacts. She had no idea that they left her alive, even for
a short time, just to find out where she had hidden them.
So that Pelias, under their command, could get this information out of her.
She also had no idea that the gate she left open to our home world... the
daglan had been waiting for this too for a long, long time. But they were patient.
Content to allow more and more of Theia's forces into the new world—leaving her
world defenseless. Content to wait to gain her trust so she could hand over the
Horn and Harp.
It was a trap that would last months or years. Obtaining Theia's instruments
of power, marching to our homeworld and claiming it... it was a long, elegant trap,
to be pulled at the perfect moment.
And, distracted by the beauty of our new world, we didn't stop to think that
everything was too easy. Too simple.
Midgard was a land of plenty. Of green, light and beauty. Very similar to our
own lands. With one huge exception. The memory extended to the view, from a
cliff, of a distant plain full of creatures. Some winged, others not. We were not the
only beings who went to that world in hopes of claiming it. We would discover too
late that the other peoples were attracted to the daglan under equally friendly
disguises. And that they also came armed and ready to fight for these lands. But
before conflict could break out between us all, we discovered that Midgard was
already occupied.
Theia and Pelias, with Helena and Silene behind them, ten warriors following
them, stood atop the cliff, overlooking the lush green land and the huge walled
city on the horizon.
Bryce couldn't breathe. She had spent years working in the company of the
lost books of Parthos, knowing that a great human civilization had flourished
within its walls, but here, before her, was proof of that greatness, of the human
skill that existed on Midgard. And it was completely removed.
She braced herself, knowing what was coming next, and hating it.
In Midgard, we find cities carved by human hands. It was a world inhabited
mainly by humans and a few unusual creatures that remained isolated. It was a
blank page, as far as it goes
respect for the worlds. With little native magic to combat the power of the
daglan.
“Fuck you,” Bryce whispered. Nesta grunted in agreement. — Blank page
sucks. — Bryce clenched his fists, a familiar, simmering anger building beneath
his skin.
However, the humans were not pleased with our arrival.
A legion of armed humans lined up outside a walled city, built of light stone.
Bryce didn't want to watch, but he couldn't look away from the sight.
My mother had dealt with human uprisings before. She knew what to do.
Humans lay slaughtered, the sand beneath them bathed in blood. Bryce
was shaking, his jaw clenched so hard it hurt.
So many dead — soldiers and civilians. Adults and... Gods, she couldn't bear
to see the small bodies.
Azriel swore, under his breath, a torrent of obscenities. The breath
Nesta's body was heavy.
Even so, Silene continued speaking, her voice unwavering, as if the
memory of the merciless bloodshed did not disturb her in the slightest.
We went from city to city. Taking the land as we wished.

Enslaving humans to build for us.
But some humans resisted, their city-states banding together as
We fey had already banded together to fight our masters.
Bryce did not allow himself to hope in the face of the legions of people
lined up in bronze armor nor the troops arrayed against the shining fae army.
I knew how this particular story ended.
I knew it would be erased from official history.

But did Aidas know what Theia—what Helena, Silene, and the fey—had
done? He should know; after all, he loved Theia. And yet, he had the fucking
nerve to talk about her like she wasn't a fucking murderer. To insinuate that
Bryce having her light was a good thing.
That star on her chest... it was a scavenger's light. Your

ancestral.
Had she been sent here to learn this? That she was not the
heiress of a courageous savior, but the descendant of a morally
corrupt lineage?
It didn't matter if it was what the star wanted her to learn or not —
now that she knew, she couldn't forget it.
There would never be any reparations for what their ancestors did.
Thinking about that was like having a knife stuck in his chest, and
Bryce could have walked away right then, told Silene's memory to go
fuck itself with his history class. But what if this unbearable story
offered some hint on how to save the future of Midgard...
Bryce continued listening.

Standing at the edge of the ring, Ithan realized he couldn't hold back.
mover.
I would have to do that. That final disgrace, betraying who he was as
a person, as a wolf...
Across the ring, Sigrid was so small. So thin and fragile and new in
this world. In that reality. Had he freed her from the tank for this? For it to
end there?
“Begin,” the Viper Queen intoned.
Flynn, Dec and Tharion stood aside, barely containing their anger.
Tharion was right. He had been so stupid to get involved with the
Viper Queen like that, imagining that it would just be bleeding, maybe
getting some burns...
And now, because of this, Ariadne had also been traded.
He barely knew the dragon, but now he had another burden to carry.
“I said start,” ordered the Viper Queen.

Ithan looked into Sigrid's light brown eyes.
Alpha. Fendyr. Higher. That's how he saw her. All that at
who bowed, who defended...
Ithan didn't allow himself to think. He did not indicate what his
movements would be. He lunged at her before she could back away from that
precipice.
He aimed a punch at Sigrid's face, who dodged to the side.
side with surprising speed. The speed of an alpha.
Ithan attacked again and she dodged again, out of pure instinct.
Sigrid jumped in one motion with her claws bared.
Ithan was shocked to see the claws, displayed so readily. He felt
rooted to the ground — a second longer than he should have been.
She tore through his skin at his ribs, a sharp pain spreading like acid
through his body...
He walked away at the sound of Flynn's swearing. He placed his
hand at his side. Warm blood leaked through his fingers.
A feeling intensified in him. Kept it firmly in place. This is how it would
be: wolf to wolf. Alpha to... whatever he was.
A wolf without a pack.
Ithan attacked again, a lower blow...
His fist collided with Sigrid's soft belly, but she didn't fall. The alpha
turned around, her elbow slamming directly into his nose.
It wasn't the most elegant of tactics, but it was smart. He broke some
bones, blood gushed out, and claws scratched his face...
He staggered back again. She had attacked his fucking eyes. Ithan
lunged at her, knocking her to the ground.
—Holstrom! — shouted Tharion, and he couldn't tell if it was a warning
or retaliation, but there was no time to think about it as Sigrid's claws
pierced his shoulder. Ithan reared back, roaring, releasing his claws.
She raised her legs and kicked. He grabbed her by the ankles, but he
wasn't fast enough. Her foot hit Ithan, who flew backwards, backwards...
He landed hard on the other side of the ring, a muffled noise that
it echoed throughout his bones.
***
Overcome with shame, Tharion watched the bloodbath unfold before him.
He was the one who should be there, in that position, with the Queen
Viper. He didn't deserve to be freed, even if they fought for him.
Ariadne. Her name resonated through him. Sold — or
negotiated, whatever that meant. Because of him. Because of what he
had said to her, apparently.
Everything he touched turned to shit.
“This isn't going to end well,” Flynn muttered. — Even if Ithan wins...
— Whatever state Sigrid was in, they couldn't leave that night.
However, despite the shame, Tharion had to admit that she fought
better than he expected. Sloppy and untrained, yes, but she was doing
well. Enduring the struggle.
She and Ithan rolled on the ground, claws bared, blood spraying...
Ithan took a blow to the chin that tore his skin. Sigrid seemed ready
to make mincemeat of him.
“Solas,” Flynn whispered, rubbing his chin in sympathy.
Tharion dug his nails into his palms until blood came out.
I couldn't keep watching. I couldn't allow that
happened. Not because of him, not even because of his freedom.
Sigrid struck again and Ithan rolled to the side, barely escaping her
grasp. But in the next instant, Sigrid was on top of him, and Holstrom's
roar of pain as her claws dug into his thigh sent Flynn hurtling toward the
ring.
Tharion grabbed the fae lord, fingers locking into his hard muscles.
“Calm down,” he murmured. - He is fine.

A big lie. Neither Ithan nor Sigrid were well.
Not even a little.
Flynn stirred, freeing himself from Tharion's grasp and turning to the
Viper Queen.
— This ends now.
— This ends — said the ruler of the Meat Market slowly from her
place in the stands — when I say it ends.
Tharion froze in place.
— Ends with a knockout.
— It ends when one of them is on the way to the Bone Quarter —

declared Queen Viper, taking out her cell phone to take a photo of the
bloodied wolves facing each other in the ring.
A fight to the death. Tharion gasped.
— Holstrom won't...
— We'll see — replied the Viper Queen, and a growl from Ithan made
Tharion return to watching the fight. From the anger flickering in Ithan's eyes
as he dodged another onslaught from Sigrid, the wolf had heard everything.
— Please — said Tharion to the Viper — let me enter the

place of the heiress Fendyr...
— That's enough, fish — protested the Viper Queen, putting her cell
phone in the pocket of her golden jumpsuit.
Tharion would have begged, if Ithan hadn't declared, panting in the ring:
— It's
over, Tharion. — Holstrom was already on his feet, circling Sigrid,
the body all bloody. He had barely touched her.
And he wouldn't even touch it, Tharion knew that. Hurt this female that
he had faced so many misfortunes... Holstrom would never do that.
Tharion couldn't breathe, anger churned through his body like a violent
sea, drowning him. He wanted to kill the damn Viper Queen for putting his
friends in that situation. Even if you only needed to look in the mirror to find
the culprit for this mess.
Sigrid swung her claws again, and Ithan dodged with athletic grace.
She launched a powerful and firm attack that Tharion realized was pure
instinct. Strike, punch, dodge...
She was not just an heir in the Fendyr line. She was the
Fendyr lineage, in its most potent form.
Ithan obviously tried hard to predict each blow. Blood covered his mouth,
his teeth. The brown eyes shone, full of fury. Not because of the wolf that
attacked him, but because of the female that forced them to do it.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Flynn repeated, pulling his hair.

Ithan's back hit the ropes and he had nowhere to run, there was no way to
move, when Sigrid punched him right in the face.
Tharion felt his stomach drop. It was all his fault, he was the biggest loser
on the planet...
But Ithan was waiting for that blow. He bent down — and
dug its claws into the heiress Fendyr's belly.
Sigrid screamed, staggering back and falling to her knees.
Ithan stopped, panting. His face was blank as he walked towards the
female holding her bloody belly. It was a hard blow, but not fatal. Claws flashed
at his fingertips.
Tharion couldn't breathe as Ithan raised his hand to deliver the final blow.
***
Silene's voice was as firm and impassive as ever. A bored immortal, softly
reciting the story of others' suffering.
We were still at war with humans when the door between the worlds
opened again. More fae appeared; out of this world this time.
Tall and beautiful beings entered. Bryce's anger and despair seemed to
respite.
Fae from other worlds — but so similar to those from that place. How was
it possible? Another ancient achievement of the Asteri? Another place they
colonized and violated only to lose in the end?
They were fae like us, but at the same time, they weren't. The ears, the
grace, the strength were identical, but they were all shapeshifters. Each capable
of transforming into an animal. And, even on their humanoid body, they displayed
elongated canine teeth.
It was a riddle—and it was enough for my mother to take a break from her
warmongering. There were two types of fae. From two seemingly disconnected
and distant worlds. These new fey possessed elemental magic, strong enough
to put Pelias on alert. They were more aggressive than the fey we knew, more
savage. And they responded directly to Rigelus.
It seemed, in fact, that they had known Rigelus for a long time.
My mother soon began to suspect that our host was not as benevolent
as he claimed. But when she discovered how wrong she was about him, it
was too late.
— Oh, swear? — Nesta muttered, her voice full of disgust, and Bryce
could only agree.
We were the only ones my mother trusted. Pelias, who previously had
his trust, had let himself be carried away by the pleasures of this new
world, accompanied by Rigelus himself.
A glimpse through a curtain showed Pelias throwing the body of a
human into a river beside a white stone mansion. The naked corpse full of
wounds.
Bryce almost couldn't stand as he saw the brutalized woman's body
floating and then sinking in the clear river. Pelias had been lost for a long
time.
— So much nerve — Nesta shouted. —They were murdering children
in those human cities.
“That still happens today,” Bryce said hoarsely. —Humans thrown into
dumpsters after being tormented and murdered by vanir. This happens
every day on Midgard and it started with that son of a bitch. — She pointed
a trembling finger at the memory. —With him and Theia, and all those
monsters.
I felt like I might explode at that moment, but Silene
continued to tell the story.
My mother ended up trusting only me and Helena to discover the truth.
I knew we could be of great use to her, because we can bear both the
shadows and the starlight.
Helena and Silene crept through the gloom of a powerful
Crystal Palace. They descended a winding crystal staircase.
“This is the Asteri palace,” Bryce whispered to Azriel and
Nesta. — In the Eternal City.
We spent a month hiding in the enemy's fortress, ourselves being just
shadows. When we returned to our mother, we already knew the truth:
Rigelus and his companions were not fae, but parasites who conquered
world after world, feeding on the magic and lives of their citizens. The
daglan, now with their real name: asteri.
It was then that my mother told us, showed us, what had happened
so long ago. Everything she had done since then. But he wasted no
time apologizing for the past. He said that if we had indeed fallen into
an enemy's trap, then we should defeat him.
Bryce placed his hand over the star-shaped scar on his chest,
fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. Could he tear that thing away,
the connection with these two-faced hypocrites, and walk away forever?
My mother had kept the star map on which, long ago, the daglan
had made notes. And a world in it caught his attention—a world, like
ours, that had defeated the daglan.
In an ornate room, in front of a table with her two daughters, Theia
pointed somewhere. As if they had been pulled out of nowhere, the
Harp and the Horn appeared on the table, shining next to the Aster
and the knife.
Theia nodded once, slowly, as if making a decision, and then
played the Horn and Harp. A portal between worlds appeared. It
solidified, an arc that led nowhere. A handsome golden-haired male
stood before her, with eyes that looked like blue opals.
Bryce took a deep breath.

Prince Aidas only asked my mother one thing when she opened
the gate to his world: “So you came to Hell for help?”
***
Hunt flinched as Baxian vomited blood, flesh, and bones. Vomit was
all over the floor, and the smell...
Ruhn was panting, shaking, but the prince didn't ask the Hellhound
to stop.
“A little more,” Baxian said, panting. Hunt's stomach churned as
the blood dripped down the male's chin. — Two more bites and that's
it.
Ruhn whimpered, but nodded grimly. They collided, legs locked
tightly, and Baxian gave no warning before biting again. There was no
time to lose.
Hunt blocked out the sounds. The odors. Bryce, his future and those
beautiful children... that was the image he had in his mind. Escape — and
survive — was the goal. Bryce was the goal.
Even though he had no idea how he would be face to face with her
again, after failing to protect them from that fate.
Once you agree to let your friends do it. I had no idea how I would look into
her eyes.
Ruhn gave a muffled scream and Baxian vomited again, his mouth
still around Ruhn's wrist. Reluctant.
They had gone too far to give up now. Then Hunt demanded, his voice
taking on the cold monotonous tone of Umbra Mortis, just as Ruhn had said
they needed, “Again, Baxian.
“Please,” Ruhn moaned, and it wasn't a request for them to stop, but for
them to hurry. Let them just get it over with.
“Again,” Umbra Mortis ordered Baxian.

Baxian, who had undertaken this unspeakable task to spare Hunt...
The Hellhound lunged forward, teeth clenched, and bit.
Ruhn screamed, shaking nonstop.
Hunt didn't know where to look first. To Baxian, who was vomiting blood
and flesh onto the rocks beneath him. For the hand and part of a wrist still
attached to the chain, or for Ruhn who was advancing towards the bookshelf,
sobbing between his teeth because of all the weight now on one arm, his
feet tense...
Hunt took action, lifting his feet and pushing. The toes of
Ruhn poked the top of the iron.
“More,” Hunt growled. He would become Umbra Mortis, he would become
that damn monster again if it gave his friends a chance of survival...
Ruhn turned toward Hunt, blood everywhere, and Hunt braced himself
and threw another kick. The prince's toes hit the iron poker. He managed to
hold on. And when it swung back, the poker came with it.
Ruhn stopped, hanging on a single arm. How would Ruhn pull himself
up using just one arm, not two? Hunt began to
swing towards him. If I could use my legs to help Ruhn

squirming...
— How many acrobatics — said a familiar male voice coming from

of the door. — And what determination.
The purest dread gripped Hunt as Rigelus approached, Pollux and the
Falcon beside him.
***
Ithan panted above Sigrid, claws raised. Heiress Fendyr's face was white with
pain, her hand still clutching her bloody side.
“Kill her, Holstrom,” the Viper Queen purred from outside, rising like a
golden wave, “and this is over.
The Viper Queen wanted him to be presented with the choice—this true
entertainment: between saving his friends, Athalar and Ruhn, perhaps even
Bryce... or Sigrid. The future of the Fendyr bloodline.
An alternative to Sabine.
Lying on the floor, Sigrid lifted her head to look at him. Blood ran from his
nose.
He had done this to her. He had never felt so dirty, so despicable as the
moment he sank his claws into her belly.
But Sigrid said, her mouth full of bloody teeth.

— I never thanked you.
The whole world stopped. The Viper Queen disappeared from the field of
his vision.
- Whereby? — gasped Ithan.
— For getting me out of there. — His eyes were so trusting, so sad...

If Connor was there...
Ithan lowered his claws. Slowly, he turned to the Viper Queen,
whose face was tense with discontent.
- He is going to screw it up. Fuck you and fuck this deal. If you do not
to leave...
Sigrid attacked.
A low, cruel blow aimed at his throat, with the intention of tearing it apart.
Ithan barely managed to block the blow, her claws sank into his forearm,
causing searing pain.
“A true Fendyr,” said the Viper Queen approvingly. It wasn't a compliment.
Ithan pulled his arm away, tearing the flesh, and he could barely breathe
through the pain.
Sigrid tried to attack his throat again. And one more time.
She drove him back to the ropes with strength worthy of an alpha Fendyr. And
as he recovered, trying to attack her, he saw it. Death written in her eyes.
She would kill him. No matter how much I took her out of the tank, she was,
above all, an alpha.
And alphas didn't lose. Not for lower lobes.
Those were the only words in his mind as Ithan flew through the air. Looking
into Sigrid's eyes. Primitive and intrinsic dominance, full of the purest
determination. Without any mercy. No possibility of mercy.

Ithan aimed his blow at her shoulder, an attack that would bring her to her
knees.
But Sigrid was fast—too fast. And I still didn't understand
how quickly he could move.
Neither does Ithan.
In a second, his claws were reaching for her shoulders. And in the other,
she had managed to throw herself to the right, in order to avoid the blow...
Ithan saw the scene in slow motion. As if watching

another person, another wolf, trapped in that ring.
In a moment, Sigrid was dodging him, so quickly that she barely had time
to stop the blow. The next, she was still, her eyes wide with shock and pain.
The claws hadn't gone through her shoulder.

They went straight for the throat, piercing it.
Aidas was a Prince of Hell, Silene continued.

Bryce could barely breathe.
Using rare summoning salts that facilitated communication between
worlds, his spies on Midgard had kept him well informed since the Asteri
failed to conquer his planet. Since then, Aidas had been assigned to hunt
the asteri. So that evil would never triumph again. Whether in his world or
any other.
Hell was, in some way, the force of good in the midst of it all. How did
Aidas manage to ignore the atrocities committed by Theia? Even worse,
how did he manage to love her? It didn't make sense. Unless Aidas was
like Theia, a murderous hypocrite...
My mother and Aidas spent many hours talking to each other through
the portal, neither daring to cross into the other's world. They spent several
days planning, in secret.
It soon became clear that we needed more troops. Any fae who were
loyal to us... and humans. My mother needed help from the same enemies
she had massacred and enslaved. The last stronghold under his possession
was in Parthos, where all the scholars and thinkers of that time were holed
up in the great library. And so, we made our way to Parthos, sailing under
the cover of darkness.
— Unbelievable — Nesta was outraged.
The city of white stones rose like a dream from the

vast riverbed of dark lands.
Parthos was more beautiful than any city that currently existed on Midgard,
adorned with elegant towers and columns, massive obelisks in the market
squares, sparkling fountains and complex networks of aqueducts, humans
moving about in relative peace and tranquility, without fear.
On the outskirts of the city, overlooking the marshes to the north, stood a
huge columned building; in fact, a complex of several buildings.
From the library of the Parthians.
Bryce knew it wasn't just a place that kept books. The complex housed
several academies in various fields of study — arts, sciences, mathematics,
philosophy as well as a vast collection of books, a treasure
—, trove of thousands
of years of learning.
Bryce's heart ached to see that, what that place had once been like.
outside. Everything that had been lost.
Crowded into an amphitheater in the center of the complex, humans
and fae argued, gesticulating and shouting.
The meetings did not go well, Silene said. But my mother remained firm.
He explained what he had discovered. What humans had known for a long
time, although they ignored the details.
Those who were arguing began, little by little, to sit down on the
stone benches, listening to Theia in silence.
And when it was finished, the humans revealed their own discovery, a
who showed us our destruction.
As a lone human stood out from the crowd, Bryce
She reminded herself to keep breathing, to balance herself...
The asteri infected the water we consumed with a parasite.
They poisoned lakes, streams and oceans. Parasites infiltrated our bodies,
damaging our magic.
Holy gods.
The Asteri created a ritual to mark the coming of age of all magical
creatures that entered Midgard and their descendants. An explosion of magic
was released and then contained — so that the asteri
could feed on it. It was a larger and more concentrated dose than the
seeds of power that, for years, they sucked from us as Tribute. It
became an almost religious experience; the justification was that it was
a method to use energy as fuel and, since then, the asteri have fed on it.
“The Descent,” Bryce whispered, discouragement taking over her.

She knew Nesta and Azriel were staring at her, but she couldn't look
away from the memory.
If someone with power chose to abandon the ritual, the parasites
would suck the immortals dry until they withered into nothingness—like
humans. They were dismissed on the grounds that they were old.
They lied when they said that performing this ritual anywhere other than one of the
asteri harvesting sites was dangerous, as it was there that power could be contained
and filtered for them, their cities, and their technology.
Bryce was about to throw up.
The Asteri's rule over the people of their world was not based solely
on military and magical power. These parasites ensured that they would
own each individual, the power they held. Their tyranny seeped into the
blood of every being on Midgard.
It was the humans who discovered it — the asteri weren't careful
when saying what they knew around them, because humans weren't
affected, as they didn't have magic. And they watched in smug silence
as we, their oppressors, were unwittingly oppressed. With a sip of this
world's water, we belonged to the asteri. There was no way it could be
undone.
Desperation almost ended us at that moment.
At least Bryce could relate to that. It had ended up somewhere far
from his body. I heard from a distance how that damn story would end.
But we convince humans to trust us. And my mother began to seek

out some of those fae who followed us to Midgard, the ones she hoped
she could trust.
Ultimately, she had ten thousand fae willing to march, most coming
from our twilight lands. And when my mother opened the way to Hell,
Aidas and his brothers brought fifty thousand soldiers with them.
I have no words to describe the brutality of war. The lives

lost, the torment and the fear. But my mother didn't give in.
The Asteri counterattacked quickly and were smart in placing Pelias
in command of the forces. He knew my mother and her tactics well.
And although the armies of Hell fought bravely, alongside our people, it was not
enough.
I never knew how my mother and Prince Aidas became lovers. I just know that,
even in the middle of the war, I had never seen my mother so at peace.
She told me once, as I spoke in wonder, how lucky we were that the portal opened
to Aidas that day, that it was because they were partners; their souls had found
each other across the galaxies, binding them on that fateful day, as if the bond of
partnership between them was, in fact, something physical. That was the extent of
the love they felt for each other. And when the war was over, she promised me, we
would go to Hell with Aidas. Not to govern, but to live. When it was all over, she
promised, she would spend the rest of her life rewarding what she had done.
She failed to keep that promise.

“What a shame,” Nesta said, without feeling any pity.
But Bryce had transcended words. I had overcome anything other than pure
despair and dread.
We received orders from the enemy before they attacked, in the dead of night: if
If we surrendered, we would be spared. If we resisted, we would be massacred.
Our camp had been built high in the mountains, because we believed that the
winter snows would protect us from the enemy's advance. Instead, we were cold
and hungry, with almost no time to prepare our forces. Aidas had returned to Hell to
recruit more soldiers, so we were spending a rare night alone with our mother.
Hell was unable to come to our aid. My mother didn't even bother trying to open
a portal to their world. Our forces on Midgard were already exhausted; the new
recruits would take days to assemble. We begged her to open the portal anyway, to
at least get the princes' help, but my mother didn't believe it would do much good.
That what was to come that night was inevitable.
“Idiot,” Nesta said again, and Bryce nodded numbly.

But my mother didn't ask us to fight.
A bloodied Theia placed the Horn in Helena's hands, to

and asked Silene to take the Harp and the knife. Saved Aster
and.
We were close to where we had entered this world. That's where the camp
was, in parts so that my mother could, at some point, open the portal again and
recruit more fae for the fight. She still didn't quite understand how travel between
worlds worked; I wasn't sure if a portal opened in a different place would lead
to another world.
So he decided to believe that our entry point into Midgard would open into our
court once again. From there, he planned to travel through the tunnels that
crossed the lands and recruit fae armies. Even knowing that they had opposed
her before, knowing that it was very likely that they would reject her or kill her,
she had no other options.
But there was no time for that at that moment.
— Play the Horn and the Harp — ordered our mother, taking them out of
that pocket of nothing — and leave this world. — It would be quick, a momentary
opening, so that Rigelus wouldn't have time to attack. We would open it and be
gone before he even knew it—and then we would seal the door between the
worlds forever.
Theia placed a kiss on their foreheads.
She warned that Pelias was coming. Coming after both of us. Rigelus had
named him Prince of the Fae, and Pelias would use us to legitimize his reign.
He wanted us to bear his children.
Even with everything they did, the crimes they committed against humans,
Bryce still felt a tightness in his chest because of his sisters.
Pulling her daughters close, Theia made her starlight shine. And in the
small space between their bodies, Bryce could see Theia plucking a low string
on the Harp. In response, a star—similar to the one Bryce made appear on his
chest—appeared on Theia's body. It split into three sparkling balls of light, one
floating into Silene's chest and the other into Helena's, before the last, as if it
were the mother from which the other two stars were born, returned to Theia's
body.
For a moment, all three glowed. Even the Revealer of Truth, in Silene's
hand, seemed to undulate, a
dark countermelody to Gwydion, which glowed in Theia's hand, flickering

like a heartbeat.
She gave us all the protection her magic could offer, transferring it
from her body to ours using the Harp. Another secret he had learned
from his former masters: that the Harp could not only move its wielder
through the world, but also move things from one place to another, even
move magic from her soul to ours.
With Gwydion in hand, Theia left the tent. With fey grace and
confidence, he mounted a magnificent winged horse and in seconds he
was flying, gliding above the night of battles.
Bryce took a deep breath. Silene had not shown the creatures in
previous memories, or in the initial crossing to Midgard, but there they
were. The pegasi in the tunnel sculptures were not, then, religious
iconography. And they had lived on Midgard long enough to be
represented in ancient art, like the frieze of the Crescent City Ballet.
They must all have died out, becoming nothing more than myth and a
toy line.
Another beautiful thing that Theia and her daughters destroyed.
Helena's eyes filled with panic as she turned around.
to Silene in memory.
To escape, it was worth the risk of returning to our home world, even
if the fae there might kill us because of our connections with the Asteri,
because of our foolishness in trusting them.
Helena grabbed Silene's hand and dragged her to the other side of
the camp. Towards the snow-capped peak ahead, to a natural stone
arch. A portal.
But no matter how fast we ran, it wasn't enough.
Far below, the fae were climbing the mountain quickly. It wasn't the
enemies who advanced, it was the members of the court who ran
towards them, after realizing what Helena and Silene were doing. Still
glowing with their mother's magic, the two princesses stood atop the
slope like silver beacons in the night. The masses of fae ran towards
them, carrying small children in their arms, bundled up against the cold.
Bryce couldn't take that last atrocity. But she forced herself to watch.
For the memory of those children.
We wouldn't stop. Not even for our people.

Bryce was pure hatred when he heard Silene's words, such anger
violent that seemed about to consume her, like flames.
Helena raised the Horn, bringing it to her lips while Silene plucked a Harp
string. A shimmering, shimmering light rippled from the arch, and then a stone
room appeared beyond it, dark and empty.
That's when the wolves found us. The shapeshifting fey approached from
the other side of the mountain, darting through the snow. The Asteri sent their
fiercest warriors to capture us.
In the back of her mind, Bryce was amazed to see this: the wolves, the
shapeshifters... they were once fey. So similar to the type of fae Bryce was,
but at the same time so different...
I raised the Harp again, said Silene, her voice finally choking with
emotion, but my sister did not sound the Horn. And when I turned around...
Silene paused, finding Helena standing a few meters away. Looking at the
enemy that was advancing from the snow, from the skies. The agitated and
desperate people climbing the mountainside, crying out for their children.
Helena looked at the people fleeing, at the approaching wolves. She

leaned over to Silene, plucked the shortest string and pushed her sister, still
holding the Harp, back.
She used the Harp to push me, closing the distance to the arch.
Silene landed in the snow, now hundreds of meters between her and her
sister. The wolves were advancing on Helena, below her.
Helena didn't look back as she walked down the mountain, away from the
pass. To save me time. But I took a few moments, looking at her, at the wolves
that were chasing her. And to our mother, further down the mountain, now in
combat with Pelias, the winged horse lying dead beside her.
Power exploded from Pelias, a power I had never seen before.

The power hit her mother—hit her hard.
Even those who were running away stopped and looked back at the figure
lying in the blood. To Pelias, bending down to pick up the Aster.
With an easy, almost graceful movement of his hand, he drove the sword
into Theia's head.
I could choose. Between staying and avenging my mother, fighting alongside
my sister... or surviving. Close the door behind me.
Silene leapt through the portal toward the chamber, strumming the Harp as
she went.
And as I fell between the worlds... the Horn sounded.
Silene fell and fell and fell, down and to the side. The Horn's wail was
suddenly cut off, and then she lay awkwardly on the stone floor, surrounded by
darkness.
I was at home.
Sobbing, Silene stood, snow dripping from her clothes.
Bryce didn't feel an ounce of pity for the tears Silene shed.
Not with the screams that echoed off the walls. Through the stone. The
people had reached the pass and were now banging on the rock, begging to
pass.
Silene covered her ears and threw herself on the ground again. Clutching
the Harp, pressing it against her chest.
Mother above, open! a male roared. We have children here! Take the kids!
Bryce shook his head, unable to speak in horror as the screams and pleas
subsided. Until they stop for good.
As if they were sucked into the rocks of that place, taking the melted snow
around Silene with them.
“You damn coward,” Bryce whispered at last. Your voice
failed on the last word. That was her inheritance.
A heavy silence fell over the chamber, interrupted only by the harsh sound
of Silene as she knelt, cradling the Harp.
At that moment, Silene said, I only thought about one thing: that story would
die with me. This world would move on, as if the fae who went to Midgard had
never existed. They would become a whispered tale around the campfire, about
people who had disappeared. It was the only thing I could think of to do to
protect this world. To redeem myself.
It was no use. And obviously, Silene would benefit from hiding her past.
If she didn't tell anyone who she was or what her family had done, she
couldn't be punished. Very convenient. How much nobility.
Silene analyzed the place where she was kneeling, the eight-pointed
star in the center of the room was the only decoration.
She slowly placed the Harp on top of the star. The snow was still melting
in her hair when she stood and dried her tears, then gathered her magic,
the concentrated power of her light. He cut through the stone like a knife
cuts through hot butter—a laser.
Light that wasn't just light, as the asteri could direct its power.
Silene sculpted planets, stars and gods. A map of the cosmos.

Of the world she had abandoned. When he finished, he lay down next to
the Harp, curled around the dagger sheathed at his waist.
Silene ran her fingers along the stone, as if she could somehow reach
her sister through the stars. A seed of starlight began to form at the tip of
his finger...
The vision darkened. Then Silene's face appeared again, older, tired.
The light blue eyes looked at her firmly. I start to lose my strength, she said.
I hope my life has been lived wisely. May I have made amends for my
mother's crimes, foolishness, and love—and made things right. I made
these tunnels, the path here, so that there would be some record of what
we were, what we did. But first I had to erase all of this from recent memory.
His face disappeared and more images appeared. Faster assembly.
Silene, moving away from the Harp and crossing the beautiful, empty
corridors of a palace carved into the mountain — that mountain.
Our house had been empty since our disappearance. As if the other fae
thought she was cursed. So I made the curse actually exist. What the hell.
She wandered through rooms that must have been familiar, stopping as
if lost in her memories. When he gestured his hand,
entire corridors were surrounded by natural stones. He gestured again and

the rooms decorated with thrones were swallowed by the mountain, until
only the underground passages, the dungeons and that chamber, far
below, remained.
Despite my efforts to hide what this place once was, an ancient and
terrible power hung in the air. It was as my mother warned us when we
were children: evil lay there, beneath us, waiting to snatch us into its jaws.
So I went looking for another monster to hide it.

Below another mountain, far to the south, I found a being full of blood,
rage and nightmares. Once a pet of the asteri, it had been hidden for a
long time, feeding on the unsuspecting. With the dagger and my power, I
prepared a trap for him. And when he came to smell it, I dragged him back
here. I locked him in one of the cells. Protect the door.
One after another, I hunted monsters, the remaining pets of the daglan,
until many of the lower rooms were filled with them. Until my once beautiful
home became a prison. Until the land was so sickened by the evil I had
gathered here, that the islands began to wither and the land became
barren. The winged horses that hadn't gone with my mother to Midgard,
that once flew through the skies, playing in the waves... they've almost
disappeared. Not a single living soul remained except the monstrosities on
the mountain.
Bryce felt no pity or compassion at all. I didn’t buy Silene’s “for the
good of all” speech. She had done it all to cover her own tracks, to ensure
that the fae of this world would never know how close she and her mother
and sister had come to dooming them. How Silene and Helena had
condemned the fae of Midgard, locking them out with their children. If he
had kept the portal open for a few more seconds, he could have saved
dozens of lives. But that's not what she did.
So fuck her litany and to Hell with your reparations.
I left, wandering the lands for a while, seeing how the people had
moved on without Theia's rule. They had divided themselves into several
territories and, although they were not at war, they were no longer the
unified kingdom that I knew.
I'll skip the details of how I married a High Lord's son. From the years
before and after he became High Lord of the Night, and I his lady.
He wanted me to be High Lady, as other lords' partners were, but I refused. I
had seen what the powers that be had done to my mother and I wanted no
part of it.
However, when my first son was born, when the baby cried and the sound
was filled in the night, I brought him to the Prison and placed the wards on his
blood. No one knew that the child who sometimes shone with starlight had
inherited it from me. Which was the light of the evening star. The twilight star.
And this island that had become barren and empty... also belonged to
him. When he was old enough, I told him what I had left here for him. So that
someone could access this record, so that they would know the risks of using
the Treasures and the threat of the asteri, always hoping to return here. I
made sure he knew the buried weapon he would need to face the Asteri was
here. I just asked him not to tell his father, my partner. As far as I know, he
never told. And he promised that, one day, he would tell his son, and his son
would tell his son. A secret shame, a secret history, a secret weapon—all
hidden in our bloodline. Our burden to be carried forward, carved and retold
here so that if the original story was distorted or parts of it were lost to time...
it would be here, set in stone.
Nesta muttered to Azriel.

— Does Rhys... does he know?
— No — Azriel replied without the slightest doubt. — At some point
moment... all of this was forgotten and was never reviewed.
Bryce couldn't bring himself to care. She knew the truth now, and all she
could think about was returning home, to Midgard, to share it all with other
people. With Hunt.
But I made sure that to the rest of the world, Silene said, my mother and
her lands were nothing more than whispered words. A legend.
People wondered if Theia had actually existed. The old generation died. I
clung to life, even after my partner passed away. As an old woman, I created
lies for my people and called them truths.
—No one knows what happened to Theia and General Pelias — I said to
countless generations. — They betrayed King Fionn, and Gwydion was lost
forever, the dagger gone with him. — He lied all the time.
— Theia and Fionn had two daughters. Unimportant, irrelevant. — That was
perhaps the worst lie of all. Not because my name was lost in history. But for
also erasing Helena's memory.
Bryce frowned. Erasing his sister's name was worse than
massacre human families?
My son had children and I lived long enough to see my grandchildren have
children of their own. And then I came back here. To the place that was once full
of light and music, and now held only terrors.
To leave this account to one whose blood will summon, my son's son, my
heir's heir. To you, I leave my story, your story. To you, on this very stone, I
leave the inheritance and the burden that my own mother passed on to me.
The image blurred and there it was again. That old, tired face.
I hope Mother forgives me, said Silene, and the hologram dissolved.
— Well, I don't forgive — Bryce said, and showed the middle finger to the
place where Silene had been.
The only thing Hunt could do was watch in despair as the Radiant Hand
of the asteri entered the chamber, followed by Pollux and the Falcon,
who noticed the hand still dangling from its chains and laughed.
— Just like a mouse — provoked the Falcon — gnawing on one of
its limbs after getting stuck in a trap.
— Fuck you — cursed Baxian. Ruhn's blood covered his face, neck
and chest.
“Watch your mouth,” Rigelus scolded, but did not interfere as Pollux
snatched the iron poker from where Ruhn still held it between his feet.
Ruhn, in turn, tried to hold him back, curling his legs up to hold him
closer. But weakened and bleeding... there was nothing he could do.
Pollux pulled him hard, slamming him into Ruhn's back once, making
the prince grunt in pain. Then he used the poker to free Ruhn's severed
hand from the handcuff.
She fell to the filthy floor with a sickening thud.

Smiling, Falcon picked it up as if it were a brand new toy.
Observing the three, Rigelus said, in a soft voice:

— If I had known you were so bored here, I would have sent Pollux
back sooner. And to think I thought they were
tired of feeling so much pain.

Pollux walked up to the lever, his wings white and shiny. With a
mischievous smile, the Hammer pulled her and caused the three of them to
fall heavily to the ground.
The pain that gripped Hunt drowned out Ruhn's scream as the prince fell
onto his severed fist.
Hunt took a deep breath, a moment on that filthy floor to sink into the icy
darkness of Umbra Mortis. To ignore the pain, the guilt, to focus. To lift your
head.
Rigelus looked at them impassively.
— I hope to soon have more information about where Ms.
Quinlan stopped,” he whispered, “but perhaps you might feel inclined to talk
now…
Ruhn spat,
“Fuck you.”
Behind Rigelus, the Falcon lowered the fingers of Ruhn's severed hand
until only the middle one remained standing.
Hunt growled softly. The growl of Umbra Mortis.
Even so, Rigelus approached Hunt, his pristine white jacket almost
obscenely clean in this place. The golden rings on her fingers sparkled.
— I'm not happy to see you again with the halo and the brand
of enslaved, Athalar.
“Halo,” Hunt asked, as firmly as he could, “or black crown?”
Rigelus blinked—the only sign of surprise, but the term clearly struck the
Radiant Hand.
— You've been talking to shadows, haven't you? Rigelus hissed.
“Umbra Mortis and stuff,” Hunt said. — It makes sense for
Death shadow.
Baxian riu.
Rigelus narrowed his eyes at the Hellhound and then turned to Hunt.
— I wonder how far Umbra Mortis would go to keep these two pathetic
specimens alive?
—What the fuck do you want? Hunt growled. Pollux addressed him
a warning look.
“A small task,” said Rigelus. - A favor. It has no relationship with Ms.
Quinlan.
“Don’t fucking listen to him,” Baxian muttered, and then
he gave a scream as a whip cracked, courtesy of the Falcon.
"I'd be willing to offer... a break," Rigelus said to Hunt, completely
ignoring the Hellhound. — If you do something for me.
That's what it was about, then. The mystics would find Bryce; he didn't
need all three for that. But the torture, the punishment... Hunt willed his
clouded head to become clearer, to hear every word. To hold on to the
Umbra Mortis that he once was, and that he had so happily left behind.
“Your lightning is a gift, Athalar,” Rigelus added. Just use it once on my

— One of the rarest. behalf, and maybe we can find some more...
comfortable arrangements for the three of you.
Ruhn returned:
- To do what?
— A side project of mine.
Hunt replied:
— I won't agree to anything.

Rigelus smiled sadly.
— I thought it would be like this. Although I was disappointed to hear
that. — He took out of his pocket a sliver of clear stone... a crystal.
Not yet cut, the size of your palm. — It will be more difficult to extract
without your consent, but it will not be impossible.
Hunt's stomach dropped.
— Extract what?
Rigelus approached, crystal in hand. The asteri stopped a few feet
away from Hunt, opening his fingers so he could look at the piece of quartz.
“A beautiful natural canal,” said the Radiant Hand thoughtfully. — And

an excellent energy receptacle. — He looked up at
Hunt. — You can choose: offer me a part of your lightning and you and
your friends will be spared the worst punishments.
— No. — The word came from deep in Hunt's gut.
Rigelus's expression remained soft.
— Then choose which of your friends will die.
— Go to Hell — shouted Umbra Mortis, unable to
hold on.
Rigelus sighed, bored and tired.
— Choose, Athalar: will it be the Hellhound or the fae prince?
He couldn't. I wouldn't do it.
Pollux was smiling like a devil, already with a long knife in his hand.
Whichever friend Hunt chose, the Hammer would painfully prolong his
death.
- Then? asked Rigelus.
He would do it. The Radiant Hand would make him choose between his
friends or I would simply kill them both.
And Hunt never hated himself more, but he reached inward, toward the
lightning, suppressed and suffocated by the Gorsian shackles, but still
there, beneath the surface.
It was everything Rigelus needed. He pressed the quartz against Hunt's
forearm and the stone cut into his skin. Scorching, acid-sharp lightning shot
out of Hunt, torn from his soul, twisted through the confines of the Gorsian
shackles, extracted inch by inch into the crystal. Hunt screamed and had a
brutal realization: this was what his enemies felt as he flayed them alive,
what Sandriel felt as he destroyed her and, oh gods, burned...
And then it stopped.

Like a switch being flipped, only darkness filled him. His lightning
plunged back into him, but the crystal in Rigelus' hands now glowed, full of
the lightning he had ripped from Hunt's body. Like a primalux battery... like
the leftover energy extracted during the Descent.
“I think this should do for now,” Rigelus whispered, putting the stone
back in his pocket. It illuminated the dark fabric of his pants and Hunt's
throat constricted, bile rising.
The Radiant Hand turned and said to the Hammer and Falcon, without looking
back:
— I think two out of three will still be a good incentive for
MS. Quinlan will return, don't you think? The executioner can choose.
“You bastard,” Hunt whispered. — I did what you asked.
Rigelus walked to the stairs that led out of the chamber.
—If you had agreed to give me your lightning from the beginning, your two
companions would have been spared. But since you made me do all this work...
I think you need to learn the consequences of defying me, even for a short time.
Baxian ferveu:
— He'll never stop challenging you... and neither will we, asshole.
It meant more than it should have that the Hellhound spoke for him. And it
also made everything worse.
The last time he was there, he was alone. All he had to do was endure the
screams of the soldiers. He had been devoured by guilt, but it was different this
time. It was different being there with two brothers, enduring their suffering along
with your own.
It would be better if you were alone. Much better.
Rigelus knew this too. That was why he waited so long to go there, so that
Hunt could better understand the situation he found himself in.
The Radiant Hand ascended the steps with feline grace.

— We'll see what Athalar is willing to give up when the time really comes.
When even Umbra Mortis will have to define its limits.
***
Lidia's time was up. If he wanted to act, it had to be right now. There was no
margin for error. She needed the prisoners ready—anyway.
But he hadn't taken more than two steps into the dungeon when he felt his
breath hitch when he saw the stump where Ruhn's hand should have been.
The prince was hanging, unconscious, in chains. Athalar and Baxian

were also out. All three, covered in blood.
Pollux and the Falcon, panting, smiled like demons.

— You missed the fun, Lidia — said the Falcon, and raised...
Lifted…
That broad, tattooed hand... it had been touched by Ruhn's hand.
On that mental plane, soul to soul, those hands caressed her, gentle and
loving.
“Very well,” she managed to say, even though she screamed inside.
He scratched the walls of his being and screamed in fury. —Which one of
you won the prize?
“Baxian, actually,” said the Hammer, laughing. — He chewed like the
dog he is, in an attempt to free himself.
Lidia forced herself to turn away. Looking at the Hellhound as if
impressed. A small part of it was. But the pain Ruhn endured...
She placed her hand on her stomach and her shudder wasn't entirely
faked.
— Lidia? asked the Falcon, his white wings rustling.
— She's menstruating — Pollux replied for her, his voice full of disdain.
— I'm fine — she replied, to complete the show. The Falcon and Pollux
exchanged glances, as if to say Females. She took a velvet case from the
inside pocket of her uniform jacket. When he opened it, primalux glowed on
the two syringes trapped inside.
- What is that? — The Falcon took a step forward, peering at the needles.
Lidia forced herself to smile at him and then at Pollux. —

It's a shame that Athalar and the Hellhound's wings are no longer
could be... targeted. I thought about getting them to come back.
A dose of healing potion, mixed with primalux, would make their wings
grow back within a day or two, even under the repressive power of the
Gorsian shackles. If she had known about Ruhn's hand, she would have
brought three, but now there was no way to casually explain her need, not
without attracting a lot of attention.
And she needed Athalar and Baxian to be able to fly.

Pollux smiled.
— Smart, Lidia. — He pointed his chin toward the unconscious angels. -
Go ahead.
She didn't need the Hammer's permission, but she didn't protest.
— Wait until the wings have grown — he warned Pollux and Falcon — so
they can savor the hope of having their wings once more before you find
interesting ways to remove them again.
Athalar and Baxian were so unconscious that they didn't even feel the
needle prick in the center of their spine. The primalux glowed along his back,
extending like glowing roots toward the stumps of his wings. The wounds
healed slowly, but she had ordered the medwitch who created the potion to
weave a spell aimed at the wings. If they were both fully cured, it would raise
suspicions.
Little by little, before their eyes, the stumps on their backs began to rebuild,
and tendons and bones joined together, multiplying.
Lidia turned away from that horrible sight. I prayed that they would heal in
time.
— I'll take over from here — he said to Pollux and Falcão, walking towards
to shelf.
— I thought you were here to heal them both. — The Falcon looked
between her and the angels.
— Just the wings — said Lidia. — Why not play with other pieces while
they grow back?
The Hammer smiled.
— Can I watch?
- No.
Ruhn stirred, groaning softly, and she had to hold herself back from pulling
one of the long blades from the rack and plunging it into Pollux's gut.
“You know I like to watch,” Pollux purred, and the Falcon laughed. What a
waste of life. He stood there while the Hammer
committed his bloody atrocities. He had also enjoyed watching during those years
with Sandriel.
Malleus's eyes shone with pure lust.
— Why don't you put on a little show for us?
“Get lost,” she said, unamused. Pollux could pretend he was in control, but he
knew who the asteri favored. Her orders were not to be ignored. — I don't need
distractions.
The Falcon laughed, but obeyed, leaving. A true subordinate, from head to
toe.
The Hammer, however, walked towards her. With the gentleness of a lover,
he placed his hand on the side of her neck. Then he squeezed hard enough to
hurt when he said against her mouth:
— I'm going to fuck you out of your insolence, Lidia. Whether your pussy is
bleeding or not.
And he climbed the steps, anger making his wings shine. He slammed the
door on the way up.
Lidia waited, listening. When she was convinced they were both gone, she
pulled the lever, causing the prisoners to fall to the ground, and ran to where Ruhn
was sprawled out.
- Raise. — She kept her voice hard, cold. The prince opened his
beautiful blue eyes.
She examined his face. Ruhn. No one answered. As if the pain had shredded
and emptied him. Ruhn, listen to me.
You are dead to me, he replied. It seemed like he had also killed the
connection between the two. But Lidia still cast her thoughts into his mind.
Ruhn, I don't have much time. I've managed to make contact with people who
can help get you out of here, but the Harpy is about to be resurrected, and when
that happens, the truth will be revealed. If my plan goes off without a hitch, if you
want to survive, you need to listen...
Ruhn closed his eyes and never opened them again.
***
Silence, heavy and unbearable, filled the chamber beneath the Prison.
Bryce stared at the eight-pointed star, revulsion coursing through him.
like a nasty torrent.

“They were horrible,” he said, his voice harsh. — Selfish and reckless
monsters.
— Silene and Helena closed the portal — Nesta replied carefully.
Bryce's gaze turned to the female.

— Only after opening it again... to escape. It was open because they
wanted to escape. And they left all those people behind. They could have
kept the door open a little longer, saved It's all of them. But Silene chose
herself. a disgrace.
"The fact that their fate is in Pelias's hands," he objected.
Azriel — would explain why they needed to act so quickly.
Bryce pointed to the place where Silene had been.
— That bitch locked the kids out to save herself and then
tried to come up with a justification.
It was no different than what the Valbaran fae had done that spring in
Crescent Moon City, when they locked the innocent out of their homes while
they cowered inside, protected by their wards.
— What are you... — Nesta began, a little gently.

— What did you expect to find here?
- I don't know. Bryce let out a bitter laugh. — I thought maybe… maybe
they had some answers on how to kill the asteri. But she ignored that part.
I thought the fae of Midgard might have turned into the lewd assholes they
are over the thousands of years. Not that they had been like this all the time.
She rubbed her face, her eyes burning.

— I thought having Theia's light was... good. As if she was somehow
better than Pelias. But she wasn't. —And Aidas loved her? — I thought that
might give me an advantage in all this nonsense. But that's not what
happened. That just means I'm the heir to a legacy of a bunch of wretched
conspirators.
And worse, that parasite in the waters of Midgard... What could be done
against him? Bryce took a deep breath, shuddering.
A gentle hand rested on his shoulder. Nesta.

“We need to tell Rhys,” Azriel said hoarsely.
As if he was still reeling from everything he had heard.
- Right now.
Bryce looked at his face. The concern and determination present there.
Everything he had seen... was a threat to this world, to the people in it.
Azriel asked her with frightening calm, “What happened

to the Horn?”
Bryce held her gaze, seething with anger. I couldn't even try to invent a lie
anymore.
But Nesta said:
—She is the Horn, Azriel. It's tattooed on her flesh. — Nesta is the only one
He took his hand off Bryce's shoulder and looked at her. - It is not?
That's why your tattoo reacted like that before.
Azriel's brown eyes flashed with intent.
predatory. He would rip that fucking Horn off her back.
If I ran to the exit tunnel... They said something about getting out of
there and then going down a mountain.
But that court was on an island. I couldn't escape them.
Azriel began to circle her with calculating precision, taking his time. Bryce
turned next to him, always keeping him in sight, but in doing so, he left his
back free for Nesta, who he suspected was the real predator here.
“That's how you came to this world,” Nesta continued, taking a step back,
no doubt so she could pull Ataraxia. — Because you, and no one else, can
come. Why did you say that no one would be able to follow you here. Because
only you have the Horn. Only you can move between worlds.
“You got me,” Bryce said, holding up his hands and pretending to
surrender, taking a step out of Nesta's reach. — I'm an evil person who jumps
through the worlds. Like my ancestors.
“You're a risk,” Nesta said flatly, her eyes
taking on that silvery glow, a supernatural fire.
— I told you a hundred times that I didn't even want to come here...
“It doesn't matter,” Nesta said. — You came to the place that,
It seems the daglan still wish to return.
— The Asteri would need the Horn to open a portal. They can find me, but
they can't get in.
“But you want to go home,” said Nesta, “and to do that you will have to
open a door to Midgard. What if Rigelus is there? Waiting to cross?
Bryce turned to continue staring at Azriel, but...

Only shadows surrounded her.
Nesta had distracted her, enough so that she lost focus and Azriel
disappeared. They worked together, silently and perfectly.
Not to attack, she realized, as a shadow darker than those around her ran
into the tunnel that ran through the chamber. But to go get reinforcements.
- No! — Bryce reached out his hand and light burst from his fingers.
She slammed into Azriel's shadows, fracturing the darkness and revealing the
warrior beneath. But it wasn't enough to stop his race...
She needed more power.

The eight-pointed star at her feet was shining. As if her magic had caused
something inside her to awaken. Like embers burning into stirring ashes. What
if her star wasn't guiding her toward knowledge, but toward something...
different? Something tangible?
Similar attracts.
To you, on this very stone, Silene had said, I leave the inheritance and the burden
that my own mother passed on to me.
This place, this Prison, and the court it once was were Bryce's inheritance.
For her to command, as Silene had commanded.
And that memory, of Silene lying next to the Harp in the middle of this
room, reaching into one of the carvings with a core of light forming on her
finger...
On this same stone...
Silene turned her old palace and home into this Prison. She must have
imbued some magic into the rock. He must have given up part of his
power not only to change the terrain, but to house the monsters in their cells.
Theia had shown her how to do this. In those last moments with her
daughters, Theia used the Harp to transfer magic from herself to Silene and
Helena, to protect them. It appeared in the shape of a star. Would Silene have
done the same there?
Would it be possible that the Harp, at that moment when Silene reached
it, with power in hand, had managed to transfer its magic to this place? ... I
leave the inheritance
and the burden that my own mother passed on to me.
And just as Theia gave her own power to Silene... perhaps Silene, in turn,
left that same power there, to be claimed by a future descendant.
One by one, fast as shooting stars, the thoughts overcame Bryce. More
out of instinct than anything else, she dropped to her knees and slammed her
hand down on the top of the eight-pointed star.
Bryce penetrated the layers of rock and earth with his mind—and there it was.
Resting just below.
Not primalux, not as she knew it on Midgard, but the fae power of a time
before the Descent. Power surged toward her through the stone, like a glowing
arrow shot into the darkness...
Azriel flapped his wings and was instantly in the air, flying in
towards the tunnel exit.
Like a small sun emerging from the stone itself, a ball of light erupted from
the ground. A star just like the one on Bryce's chest.
His starlight finally awakened again, as if reaching with shining fingers for the
star that hovered centimeters away.
With shaking hands, Bryce guided the star to the one shining on his chest.
In your body.
White light erupted everywhere.
A power, pure and ancient, burned in his veins. His hair stood on end.
Debris floated. She was everywhere and nowhere. It was the evening star and
the last rays of color before darkness.
Azriel almost reached the tunnel. Another flap of wings and he would be
swallowed by its dark mouth.
But with a simple thought from Bryce, stalactites and stalagmites formed,
approaching him. The room became a wolf, its jaws snapping towards the
winged warrior...
The stone moved towards her, just as it had moved towards Silene.
“Stop him,” he said in a voice that sounded so much like her father's, more
than anything she had ever heard come out of her own mouth.
Azriel ran towards the tunnel arch and crashed into a wall.
of stone. The exit was sealed.
He turned slowly, wings rustling. Blood was pouring from his nose due to
the head-on collision with the rock that was now in his path. He spread his
wings, preparing for a fight.
The mountain shook, and the chamber with it. Debris fell from the ceiling.
The walls began to move, rocks scraping against rocks.
As if the place that had once been there was now trying, at all costs, to emerge
from the rocks.
But Nesta ran towards Bryce, wielding the Ataraxia, silver flames engulfing
the blade.
Bryce raised his hand and spikes of rocks appeared from the ground, one
after another, blocking Nesta's advance. The camera shook
again...
“Stop,” Azriel roared, something like panic in his voice. —

Ace aims...
From afar, she could feel it: the things hidden in the mountain, her
mountain. Disturbed and miserable creatures. Some had been there since
Silene had arrested them. They spent all their time thinking about escaping
and taking revenge. If he restored the mountain to its former glory, they would
be able to get out.
And in that moment, the mountain — the island — spoke to her.
Alone. I was so alone... waiting for her all this time.
Cold and adrift in that choppy gray sea. If she could reach out, if she could
open her heart... she could sing again.
Awakening. There was a beating, vibrant heart locked away tightly
below them. If she freed him, the earth would awaken from her slumber,
and such wonders would rise again from her land...
The mountain shook once again. Nesta and Azriel stopped ten feet
away, Ataraxia a resplendent light, the Truth-Revealer shrouded in
shadow. Aster remained sheathed on Azriel's back; but she could have
sworn she saw the sword twitch. As if asking Azriel to take her away.
Nesta warned Bryce, her eyes fixed on the trembling earth,

“If you open these cells...
“I don't want to fight you,” Bryce said, his voice strangely empty, as if
the wave of magic he'd caught with Silene had emptied his soul. — I'm
not your enemy.
—Then let us take you back to our High Lord—
Nesta retorted. Ataraxia glowed in response.
- For what? To lock me up? Rip the Horn out of my skin?
“If necessary,” Nesta said coldly, bending her knees, preparing to

attack. — If that's what we need to do to keep our world safe.
Bryce bared his teeth in a wild grin. More tips

rock emerged from the ground, pointing at Nesta and Azriel.
— Then come and get me.
With a flap of his wings, Azriel charged towards her, quickly
like a panther attacking...
Bryce stamped his foot. The stone spikes rose higher, blocking his
path. His blue light shone, shattering the rocks.
Bryce stamped his foot again, summoning more lethal stone spears.
But there were none left. Just a vast, gaping void.
Bryce only had a second to realize that there was literally a void
beneath his feet, before the ground beneath them collapsed.
If the prisoners had done something as drastic as biting off Ruhn's hand, it was
because they were very close to losing their line. Which left Lidia with very little
time and limited options.
The current alternative seemed the wisest and quickest. She would have
to trust that Declan Emmet had received the coded message she had sent
through his secure maze of channels and was, at that very moment, diverting
the cameras.
The Lady of the Mystics ran out as soon as Lidia passed through the doors
of the dank hall, no doubt to complain to Rigelus about Lidia's unexpected
arrival. He ordered Lidia to wait at reception.
Lidia waited a while to ensure that the lady had indeed

left, but immediately ignored the order.
— Irithys — said Lidia to the elf lying at the bottom of the crystal ball. Curled
on her side, the queen remained asleep. Or pretending to sleep. - I need your
help.
The Goblin Queen opened one eye.
—To torture more people.
—To torture me.
Irithys opened both her eyes this time. He sat down slowly.
- What?
Lidia brought her face closer to the crystal and said softly.
— There is an angel in the dungeon. Hunt Athalar.
Irithys took a deep breath; she knew him. How could she not know,
since she, in a way, was also Fallen? Although Irithys did not fight in the
failed rebellion, she was a victim of the consequences: heiress of a cursed
people, a queen enslaved at the moment of her coronation. I knew all the
main parts of this saga. He knew all the decisions that led to the punishment
that spread through generations of goblins.
— He started fighting again. And this spring a goblin approached him;

she died to save his partner. Her name was Lehabah. He claimed to be a
descendant of Queen Ranthia Drahl. — Just as Lidia saw the footage of
Athalar killing Sandriel, she also witnessed the fire goblin's final stand that
saved Bryce Quinlan. Rigelus considered it essential that Lidia knew
everything about the threat to Asteri power.
Irithys's eyes widened at the mention of her long-dead queen's lineage.

The lineage that was believed to have disappeared. The queen whose
decision to rebel alongside Athalar and his archangel had led all the goblins
to the fate of being enslaved, including Irithys herself. But he asked, in an
indifferent tone:
- AND?
Lidia continued:
— I need you to help me free Hunt Athalar and two of his companions.
Irithys stood still, the flame a suspicious yellow.

— Is this another warm-up?
Lidia had no time for lies or jokes.
— The warm-up with Hilde was a test. Not to see what you could do, but
who you are.
The queen inclined her head. The flames remained yellow.
Lidia added:
—To see if you had as much honor as I expected. If it was
reliable.
- For what? — The pixie spat the words, bright red sparks flying from her.
—To help me create a distraction... one that might save

more lives than those three in the dungeon.
Irithys fungou.
— You are Rigelus' pet. — She waved her burning hand at the mystics
sleeping in their tanks. — He's no better than them, obeying everything he
asks. They would lie if he ordered them to. They would even drown if he even
whispered an order.
— I can explain later. At the moment I only have — she gasped — my

word to offer.
— And the cameras? — Irithys looked at the always attentive eyes, located
everywhere.
— I have people in my service who assured me that another place is being
shown right now — Lidia said, praying that it was true.
And with a plea to Luna, she hit the crystal ball, dissolving it. He still had
the access that Rigelus had granted in his blood to open the ball. I could still
make it happen.
She intended to use the Goblin Queen to try and melt the Gorsian shackles
of Ruhn, Baxian, and Athalar, but things changed.
I needed Irithys for something much bigger.
Irithys was out in the open, with her arms crossed, now with a
familiar and cautious orange tone.
- This is it? — She gestured to the tattoo on her neck.
Lidia said softly, as calmly as she could: — I made a
bargain with Hilde for her freedom. She just needs
Do me a favor when the time comes and you will be released.
Irithys tilted her head again.
— And the part about me torturing you...?
— That comes later. To make everything believable.
— Make what believable?
Lidia glanced at her watch. I didn't have much time.
— I need to know if you agree or not.
The Goblin Queen wasted no time. Lidia returned her gaze, allowing the
queen to see everything beneath. Surprise lit up Irithys's face... and she
nodded slowly, taking on the ruby hue of determination.
— Bring the witch — said the queen.

***
Hilde was taken downstairs within minutes. The guards did not question the
Doe, and their luck persisted, as the lady was still complaining to Rigelus.
Hilde looked at Lidia as she stood in front of the elf, the

queen free from her crystal and burning bright red.
— And I'll go free as soon as I do this favor for you?
—No one will stop her.
Hilde assessed Lidia's expression.
- So what is it?
Lidia nodded towards Irithys.
— Undo what you did years ago. Remove the tattoo from her neck.
Hilde showed no shock, not even a flicker. Instead, he looked back from
Lidia to the elf, who remained silent and watchful.
— Your master won't punish you for this?

Lidia replied: —
Everything I do is in the service of Rigelus's will, even if
he may not always be able to understand. — A beautiful lie.
But Hilde nodded slowly, her fine silver hair glowing with the red of Irithys's
flames.
— I will seek shelter in my House until you can clean up
my name officially, then.
Lidia produced a key for the witch's Gorsian shackles.
Irithys seethed beside her, now a tense violet color, when the lock clicked.
The witch's handcuffs came loose.

Before they fell to the ground, Hilde turned to Lidia, opening her mouth
in a scream of fury...
Lidia drew the gun so quickly it was almost impossible to see, and
pressed it to the side of the witch's head.
- Calm down.
— You are a pile of trash, a traitor. Rigelus will give me a nice reward
when I tell him everything.
Lidia stuck the barrel of the gun into the witch's temple.
— Free the queen now, or this bullet will go through her brain. And the
handcuffs come back on.
The injury would be permanent, with Gorsian cuffs delaying healing.
Death would find her almost at the same moment.
Hilde spat, and a piece of greenish-brown phlegm splashed onto Lidia's
feet.
— Who guarantees you won't kill me later?
— I swear on Luna's golden bow that I won't kill you.
There was some more intense swearing, in addition to the fae blood
oath. It seemed to work for the witch, who showed her rotten teeth, but said:
— Okay.
A wave of the deformed hand and a few guttural intoned words and the
ink melted on Irithys's fiery neck. Like black rain, it spread across his flaming
blue body, dripping onto the stones on the ground.
And in its wake, as it lightened, the pixie lit up in

a blinding white glow.
Lidia lowered the gun from the witch's head.
- As promised.
Hilde sneered:
- And now? Am I leaving, knowing you have some scheme afoot?
Lidia looked at Irithys.

— Your turn, elf.
Irithys smiled and curled a small, glowing finger.
Hilde caught fire. The witch didn't even have time to scream before she
turned to ash on the ground. Amid the acrid smoke that snaked through the
room, Irithys shone like a newborn star.

— And now, Doe? asked the Goblin Queen, brightly.
like Solas himself.
Lidia extended her forearm.
—Now you make it look like an accident.
- What?
— Burn me. — She pointed to Hilde's ashes with her head. — Not like
that, but... enough. You need to be convincing, I will tell the others that you
used too much power on me and Hilde when I went to get you to help me
torture the prisoners more, and that then you ran away.
Irithys' white flame turned yellow again.

— I ran away to do what?
— Create a distraction.
- It will hurt.
Lidia held the elf's gaze.
- Great. To look real, it needs to hurt.
She laid out her plan to the queen as quickly as she could, explaining
how to navigate the path of deactivated cameras to get out of the palace,
where to hide, and when and where to strike. And if somehow, against all
odds, she managed... she exposed what would be required of Irithys. As
absurd and unlikely as it was.
Everything depended on the queen. When Lidia finished, Irithys

He shook his head—not in refusal, but in shock.
- Can I trust you? — Lidia asked the elf.
Irithys began to glow again, incandescent white.
— You have no other choice now, do you?
Lidia extended her arm once more.
— Make it hurt, Your Majesty.
***
Darkness, debris and dust. Coughs and groans.

From the sounds behind her, Bryce knew Nesta and Azriel were alive.
What state were they in... Well, she didn't care.
that at that moment.

The power he wrested from that place, from Silene herself, vibrated
through his body, familiar and yet strange. It was part of her, not as
Hunt's temporary charge, but as something that latched onto her
power, lodged there.
Like attracts each other. As if her star knew that this magic existed
and attracted her to it, as if they were sister powers...
And they were. Bryce had carried Theia's light through Helena's
lineage. And that light... was the light of Theia coming from Silene.
Two sisters, united at last. But Silene's light, now mixed with Bryce's...
It was light, but it wasn't quite the same power she already
possessed. He couldn't understand it, he didn't have time to explore
its nuances, as he stood up and gazed at the faint glow filling the
chamber in which they had fallen. The one that was hidden one level
below the star.
A sarcophagus made of clear quartz stood in the center of the
space. And within it, preserved in eternal youth and beauty, lay a dark-
haired female.
Bryce's mind raced at the possibilities. The place had once been
an asteri palace before Theia claimed it. And in the carvings in the
tunnels, made by Silene to portray her mother's teachings...
Evil waited beneath them.
What if Silene had never quite understood what Theia had meant?
That it wasn't just a metaphor?
That here, literally beneath them, sleeping in the forgotten coffin...
There was evil, beneath his feet.

Bryce's breathing was labored as she examined the crystal coffin in the
center of the empty chamber.
There were no doors inside the room. From what I could understand, the
The only entrance was through the roof that had just collapsed beneath them.
In the crystal sarcophagus, the female was preserved in unnerving detail.
No, not preserved. His thin chest rose and fell. Asleep.
The hairs on the back of Bryce's neck stood up.
She was one of the inmates who asked not to be released from prison.
Some ancient, strange being kept there, in a cell beneath their feet, so
dangerous it was encased in crystal...
That crystal coffin showed the characteristics of the sleeping female:
humanoid, with fair and slender skin. The silky golden dress accentuated
every delicate curve of her body.
Bryce had never seen skin so pale. It shone like a full moon. The dark
hair... it was too dark, somehow.
They didn't reflect light. That shouldn't exist in nature.
And... was she wearing lipstick? No one had a mouth so red, so vibrant.
Blowjob red, Danika had said once when Bryce had used a similar tone.
- What did you do? — Azriel replied harshly, and Bryce turned to find him
standing, with his wings folded. Nesta leaned against him as if she was
injured, Ataraxia dangling from her hands. The male now held the Aster in
one hand and the Revealer of
Truth in the other.
He must have had some kind of Starry blood... from some distant
ancestor, perhaps. Or it could be that the knife somehow allowed him to carry
Aster.
As if in answer to Azriel's question, the female in the coffin
opened his eyes. They were an intense blue—and they glowed.
Bryce tried to pull away, but remained frozen in place as the female's
gaze slid toward hers. While those red lips curved upwards in a discreet smile
without any joy. When the female raised her long, slender hand to the lid of
the crystal sarcophagus, and said:
— Let me go, slave.

Even muffled by the crystal, the voice was cold, merciless.
— Have you lost your mind for good? — Nesta said to Bryce, her voice
full of anger, as she limped closer.
— I didn't want to open a cell... — Bryce began.
— This isn't one of the cells — warned Azriel — we didn't even know this
chamber existed.
The female in the coffin ignored the argument.
— How long have I been sleeping? — Once again, she pushed the crystal
out of her sarcophagus.
Or would it be a cage?
Azriel said to Bryce, “Did
you know she was here?”
Bryce didn't take his eyes off the coffin and the monster inside it.
- No.
The female in the coffin banged on the lid, the muffled thud echoing off
the dark stone walls.
— Enslaved, do as I say.
“Fuck you,” Bryce shot toward the coffin.
— You dare defy me? — Through the quartz, Bryce could see the caged
female's nostrils flaring. Feeling smells. —
Oh. You are a mongrel. Enslaved and enslaved to our

enslaved. No wonder you have no manners.
Nesta, raising Ataraxia higher, asked in a hoarse voice, —What
are you?
The female's long nails scraped the coffin lid. Didn't look
at them while testing the lid for weak spots.
— I am your goddess. Your master. Don't you recognize me?
"We don't have any masters," Bryce countered.
The female's nail caused deep scratches on the crystal, but the lid
held. She looked past Bryce, her gaze falling on Azriel. His lips curved.
— An infantry soldier. Great. Kill this female

insolent and set me free. — She pointed at Bryce.
Azriel didn't move. The caged female hissed.
— Kneel, soldier. Pay the Tribute so that I can recover the
strength and get out of this cage.
Bryce then realized. He realized what evil had been kept in this coffin
all this time.
Beside Azriel, Nesta straightened her posture. As if she had noticed
too. The movement caught the creature's gaze, and its eyes glowed with
pure rage. She looked between Nesta and Bryce, showing her white
teeth as she finally asked, “Was it Theia who stole
the Horn for you?” Who put this in your flesh? — His gaze turned to
Nesta. —And you... you are linked to the other parts of the Treasury.
Was she the one who gave it to you?
“I don't know what you're talking about,” Nesta said flatly.
The creature laughed and spoke slowly to Nesta.

— I can smell them on you, girl. Don't you think a blacksmith knows
his own creation?
Bryce's mouth went dry.
The female in the sarcophagus was an asteri.
***
Tharion didn't know what to say as they walked through the corridors of the
Meat Market to the car that was supposedly waiting for them in a side alley.
None of them knew.
Ithan hadn't spoken since he opened Sigrid's throat.
It was an accident. Tharion saw when Ithan aimed the blow at Sigrid's
shoulder, but the female dodged so quickly - and choosing the wrong fucking
direction, out of sheer bad luck - that the blow became fatal.
Silence dominated the room as Ithan looked at the fist and claws that
pierced Sigrid's throat. His hand was the only thing keeping his body upright
as his eyes remained empty...
“Remove your fist,” the Viper Queen had ordered.

Seemingly beside himself, Ithan retracted his claws and removed his hand
from Sigrid's neck.
It was the ultimate indignity. When he removed his claws, he cut off what
what was left of the thin neck.
And as he pulled back his bloody fist, her body fell
on the ring floor... Sigrid's head rolled away.
Ithan stood there, staring at what he had done. And Tharion couldn't find
the words to say that everyone had seen what Holstrom intended to do,
everyone knew that it wasn't his intention to kill her.
The Viper Queen's assassins were at the alley door, holding it open. As
promised, a black sedan was parked there.
Tharion took one step—just one—into the night before the sweet, inviting
scent of Istros hit him. Every muscle and instinct in his body came to life,
begging him to go into the water, to submerge himself in its wildness and
magic, to trade his legs for fins, to let the river ripple through his gills, into his
very blood. ..
Tharion ignored the need, the longing. He continued to advance toward

the sedan, one foot in front of the other.
Still in silence, they got into the car. Flynn took the wheel, Dec slid into the
passenger seat. Tharion sat on the
backseat, right behind the male who had taken on this unholy burden for him.
— You, uh... — Flynn began as he started the car and looked over his
shoulder to back out of the alley. — Are you okay, Holstrom?
Ithan said nothing.

Declan announced softly, looking at his cell phone: —
Marc is taking care of our family things. Ensuring
May everyone be safe.
A shitty consolation.
Three bright lights hit the windshield and everyone was shocked.
scare. But... the elves. They had forgotten about the elves.
Flynn opened the window and Rithi, Sasa and Malana quickly entered.
Sasa took a breath, "go, go, go" was heard, and Flynn wasted no time
questioning as they sped out of the alley. He changed gears smoothly and
they entered the main street, soon speeding through the maze of streets that
Tharion had thought he would never see again.
- What is happening? Declan asked the elves, who had huddled in the
drink holders at the front.
“We burn,” Sasa said, deep orange.
— What did they burn? demanded Flynn.
Tharion gaped as Malana pointed out the back window, to where flames
licked the night sky above the Meat Market.
—She's going to kill you. —Tharion's voice was hoarse. As if

had screamed. And maybe it had. I couldn't say.
“She'll have to find us first,” Rithi said sternly, then turned to Ithan. —She
planned all of this.
She used you.
— I fell into her game. — Ithan's voice was weak, breaking.
Nobody spoke. No one seemed inclined to speak. So Tharion thought it
would be better to ask: — What do you
mean?
Ithan shook his head and looked out the window, his face expressionless,
still stained with blood. And he didn't say anything else.
They continued through the city, somehow unchanged despite what

had just happened. They drove to the Rose Gate and the Eastern Road
beyond it. To the coast and to the ship that would be waiting for them.
And all the consequences that would follow.

***
Bryce stepped back as Azriel took a step towards the crystal coffin, the
Truth Revealer now glowing with black light in his left hand.
Bryce realized that he had already seen the creature dressed in gold
that slept in the coffin: when Silene told the story of her mother. The female
before them... was the asteri who ruled there. The lady of Theia.
The asteri's blue eyes looked down at the dagger.

— You dare to draw a gun in front of me? Against
those who raised you, soldier, from night and pain?
— You are not my creator — Azriel replied coldly. The Aster glowed in
the other hand. If they bothered him, if they called him, he didn't let it show.
Neither hand even twitched.
The asteri's eyes lit up as she recognized the long blade.
“Fionn sent you, then?” To kill me in my sleep? Or was it that traitor
Enalius? I see you carry his knife... as his emissary? Or your killer?
The words must have meant something to Azriel. The warrior did
a discreet shock noise.
— Fionn really sent us to finish you off — Nesta lied, her tone a
significant threat. —But it looks like now we'll have the pleasure of killing
you while you're awake.
A stari sorriu de novo.
— You're going to have to open this sarcophagus to get to me.
Bryce smiled back, showing all his teeth.
— Fionn sent them. But I was sent by Theia.
Blue fire boiled in the creature's eyes.
“That cheating bitch will see the good once I get rid of you.”
Azriel began to move along the coffin. Evaluating the

best way to attack asteri, without a doubt.
“Unfortunately for you,” Bryce teased, “Theia has been dead for fifteen
thousand years. And the rest of your little friends too. Its people are nothing
more than a half-forgotten myth in this world.
For a moment it was the creature's turn to be unresponsive. As if a
memory had disappeared, she said, more to herself than to them: — Theia
was so nice
that day. He said I looked tired and that I should replenish myself at the
crystal here, above the well.
But she sealed me inside. To let me starve through the ages. — Snow-white
teeth flashed. — And in my dreams, she danced on the rocks above me. He
danced on my grave while I starved beneath his feet.
“Give me Aster,” Bryce murmured to Azriel. The blade had killed reapers.
Maybe I could kill an asteri. Maybe she had been sent here to learn that.
“No,” Azriel refused. —, It was you who brought this terror to

us.
— I had no idea she was here...
— Enslaved people, release me — interrupted the asteri. - I am
running out of patience.
Why didn't Theia warn her daughters that that thing was there? Why was
he so irresponsible, so reckless...
Et in Avallen ego. Even there, on that island that had been a paradise
during Theia's reign, evil existed. And Theia had warned her daughters—that
evil lurked beneath their feet, waiting to seize them. Literally.
The taint of the Asteri who ruled here, Silene had claimed, remained in
this place... an ancient and terrible power. Enough so that he needed to be
hidden in the disgusting Prison. Silene just didn't realize that the reason was
that an asteri was still there.
And in that moment, against all odds, there was a living link to the past,
with the answers Bryce needed.
If Urd had guided her here...

Bryce said calmly, “I have
questions to ask.” If you don't answer me, I will be happy to leave you here
until the end of eternity.
— Ah, this planet will be dead long before eternity ends. Your star will
expand and expand and, at some point, devour everything in its path. Including
this world.
— Thank you for the astronomy lesson.

A slow smile.
— I will answer your questions... if you release me from this tomb.
Bryce held her gaze.

“Don't you fucking dare,” Azriel muttered.
But she was out of time. Every minute, Hunt suffered. I was sure so.
The very stones and protections of that place had responded to his will...
Azriel lunged at Bryce, but she was already beside the coffin.
of Cristal.
— Get up, then.
A click, loud as a bang, and the lid was unlocked.
Opening the coffin was as easy as ordering the stones on the mountain to
move.
- What did you do? — Nesta questioned, silver fire
shining in his eyes, running down Ataraxia's blade.
The asteri placed her hand on the unlocked lid of the coffin and
started pushing.
How the hell was she supposed to face that thing unarmed? Bryce
He reached out to Azriel, casting his will with it.
The Aster flew from his hand to hers.
Azriel started, shadows flashing across his shoulders,
preparing to attack, but Bryce said, “Theia
showed me this trick in Silene's little montage of memories. — That was
the feeling she had, as if the blade was calling her. As if ready to jump into her
hands.
Azriel bared his teeth, but pulled out another sword he kept in a holster
hidden on his back and raised the Truth Teller in his other hand while Nesta
raised Ataraxia...
Bryce turned to the coffin in time to see the asteri slowly leave,
like a spider being born.
Bryce's chest provided the only light, turning the monster's pale skin even whiter,
leaving the red hue of his lips almost purple. Her long black hair fell over her slender
form, pooling on the stone beneath her like liquid night.
But she remained on the floor, curled in on herself. As if

I didn't have the strength to stand.
“Go left,” Azriel murmured to Nesta, the power
shining around them.
“No,” Bryce said, not looking back as he walked over to the asteri on the ground
and sat down, placing the aster on the rock.
cold by your side.
To his surprise, Azriel and Nesta did not attack. But they remained just a step
away, weapons drawn.
— Your companions think you've lost your mind for freeing me — said the asteri,
poking an invisible stain on her silk dress as she settled into a more suitable position,
still sitting.
— They didn't realize that you haven't eaten in

thousands of years, and I can end you.
“We know that,” Nesta murmured.
“Let's start with the basics, leech,” Bryce said to the asteri. — Where did you do...
— You can call me Vesperus — The creature's eyes

they glowed with irritation.
—Are you related to Hesperus? — Bryce raised an eyebrow when he heard the
name, so similar to that of one of the Midgard asteri. — The Evening Star?
— I am the Evening Star — Vesperus fumed.

Bryce rolled his eyes.
— Okay, let's call her Evening Star too.
Happy?
- Does not match? — A wave of long fingers covered in sharp nails. — I drank
from the magic of the earth, and the magic of the earth drank from me.
— Where did you come from before you got here?

Vesperus folded her hands in her lap.

— A planet that was once green, like this one.
—And that wasn't good enough?
— Our population has increased a lot. Wars broke out between the various
beings of our world. Some saw the changes in the land at first... dry rivers,
clouds so thick the sun couldn't break through them... and they left. Our most
brilliant minds have found ways to bend the fabric of worlds. To travel between
them.
Travelers, as we called them. Wanderers of the world.
— So you destroyed your planet and then went to feed on others?
— We had to find a way to support ourselves.

Bryce's fingers curled against the stone floor, but his
voice remained firm.
— If you knew how to open portals between worlds, why
Did they need the Nefarious Treasures?
— As soon as we left our home world, our powers began to weaken. Too
late, we realized that we depended on the magic inherent in our land. The
magic of other worlds was not potent enough. But we couldn't find our way
back home. Those who ventured here found ways to amplify this power, thanks
to the gifts of the land. We gathered our power and imbued these gifts into the
Cauldron to work our will. With this, the Treasures were Made.
And then, we connect the essence of the Cauldron to the soul of this world.
Light.
—Then destroy the Cauldron...
—And you destroy this world. One cannot exist without the other.
Behind them, Nesta took a deep breath. But Bryce said,
“You threw a switch that would kill this world.
— We placed... switches on many worlds. To protect
our interests. — She spoke so calmly, so confidently.
— Do you know Rigelus?
— You say his name too casually for a worm.
— We know each other well.
She pursed her lips slightly.
— I met him in passing. I assume you want to kill him... and you came to
ask me how to do it.
Bryce didn't say anything.
Vesperus gave her a cold look.
— I'm not going to help you with that. I will not reveal the secrets of
my people.
—Was it because of this compassion that Theia didn’t kill you?
Vesperus frowned.
— Theia knew that, for my species, this type of punishment would be much
worse than death. Being confined, but alive. Not breathing, not eating, not
drinking... but lying half asleep, starving. — That sparkle in her eyes... it wasn't
just anger. It was insanity. —Killing me would have been a coup de grace.
Theia didn't understand that word. I had raised her from childhood to not
understand her. Every now and then, she would come down here and look at
me... I was asleep, but I could feel her there.
Singing victory. Convinced that she had won.

A shiver ran down Bryce's spine.
“She kept you here like a trophy.
Vesperus' chin tilted in a nod.
— I believe she took pleasure in seeing me suffer.
“I don't blame you,” Bryce replied, even though his stomach was turning.
Theia might have helped Midgard in the end, but she was no better than the
monster who created her.
— I have questions for you too, mongrel. “At ease,”
Bryce said, waving his hand.
—If we lost the war to Theia, if my people are now a mere myth, how come
you know Rigelus so well? Do asteri still live here?
“No,” Bryce replied. — I come from another world. You

asteri are still in control there.
—How long have the Asteri ruled?
— Fifteen thousand years.
—Rigelus must be very pleased with himself.
— Oh, yes it is.
But the asteri looked from Bryce to Azriel and Nesta behind her, raising
her eyebrows.
— Is life so unbearable under our government that you must always
challenge us?
Yes. No. For Bryce, life was going well. Some shit
aspects, but good overall. However, for so many others...
— What does it matter — Vesperus continued, addressing Bryce once
again — if we take away some of your power? What would you do with it?
“It matters that they lie to us,” Bryce replied. — Our power is not at your
disposal. His supremacy is uncontrolled and undue.
— There is a natural order in the universe, girl. The strong rule the weak
and the weak benefit from this. Everything in nature attacks and is attacked.
You fae somehow only consider this an affront when it applies to you.
— I'm not going to debate the ethics of conquest with you. Rigelus and
the others have no right to my world, but they have poisoned the water on
Midgard... It is filled with some kind of parasite that extracts our magic and
demands that it be offered to the asteri. How do I undo this?
Vesperus' eyes shone with satisfaction.

—We really wanted something that worked this way, instead of the
Tribute, which required the consent—she dropped the word as if it tasted bad
—of our subjects, but we never figured out how... The water supply, you say?
— A soft laugh. — Rigelus was always intelligent.
— How do I fucking undo it?

— You seem to think I'm inclined to help, no matter how much
don't get anything in return.
— I know what you want and you won't get it.
— What if I told you that I had no desire to govern, just to live?
— You would still be a leech, who would need to feed on these people.
He doesn't deserve to be free.
— There is a place on this earth for creatures like me.

Unwanted. They call it Half. I dreamed about it, I saw this place during
my long nap.
— This decision is not mine.
— Wear the Crown of that Made scum over there. — Vesperus
nodded at Nesta. — You could force a path to realize your vision, clearing
the minds of those before you.
Bryce had no idea what Vesperus meant, but he responded

coldly:
— You had plenty of time to come up with justification for all your
actions, didn't you?
— We are superior beings. We don't need to justify anything.
— You would fit in perfectly on Midgard.
— If Rigelus has been in power for so long, then your world is under
his total control. He will not abandon you. He must have learned from the
mistakes my companions and I have made in this world and others.
Bryce clenched his fists. The strength I needed to exert to maintain

his power under control coursed through his body.
Vesperus' gaze darted to Bryce's glowing fist.
— So it's time for us to fight?
The asteri's power vibrated, a steady beat against Bryce's skin.
Vesperus had not died, even after being deprived of her magical
sustenance for so long. What would happen if that huge primalux core
beneath the asteri palace in the Eternal City was taken away, other than
removing their source of nutrition? It wouldn't be enough.
So Bryce let some of his power shine through the surface.
She could have sworn her starlight was... heavier. Different, somehow,
with the addition of what she had claimed from Silene.
“I know you can die,” Bryce said, and felt power shining in his eyes.
“The fae already killed you once, you bastards. And in my world, Apollion
ate one of you.
- He ate? — Vesperus seemed less satisfied.
Bryce smiled slowly.

—They call him the Star Eater. He ate Sirius. He
It's ready, waiting to come and eat you too. — It's a lie.
— I wish I could show you the empty throne that Rigelus still holds for
Sirius. It gets to be cute.
—What kind of creature is this Apollion?
— We call them demons, but you may know them by some other name.
Your kind tried to invade their world, Hell. It didn't go well for you.
“Then Hell and this Apollion will pay for such sacrilege,” Vesperus hissed.
— Look, I don't think you'll be the one to make them.

Vesperus' fingers tapped the gold-plated knee. His eyes turned blue as
night, with the promise of death. She placed her hands on the floor and began
to push herself up to stand.
“Don't move,” Bryce warned, closing his hand on the handle of his
Aster. Azriel and Nesta pointed their blades at the asteri.
But Vesperus completed the movement. He stood up. Bryce had no
choice but to do the same. Vesperus staggered, but remained standing.
The asteri took a small step, testing it. Bryce stood his ground.
Vesperus took another step, now more firmly, and smiled at Bryce. For
Azriel, with the Revealer of Truth.
— You don't know how to use it, do you?
Azriel pointed his dagger at the advancing asteri.
— I'm sure this tip is what I'm going to stick in your guts.
Vesperus laughed, her dark hair bouncing with each step she took.
— Typical of your species. They want to play with our weapons, but they
have no idea what they can do. Your mind couldn't contain all the possibilities
at once.
Azriel growled softly, spreading his wings.
- Let's see then.
Vesperus took another step, standing just a foot away from Bryce.
— I can smell it... we create so many things here that we can't

they've been used. Ignorant fools.
Bryce let his magic flow. One thought, and her hair floated around her
head, carried once more by the currents of her power, still amplified by
what she had captured on the mountain. She tilted the Aster before her,
light rippling along the blade.
Vesperus took a half step back, hissing at the gleaming weapon.
—We hid niches of our power throughout this land, in case the worms
caused... trouble. It seems that our wisdom has not let us down.
— There's nothing like that around here — replied Azriel coldly.

- No? — Vesperus opened a wide smile, showing all his very white
teeth. — Have you looked under every sacred mountain? In their roots?
Magic attracts all types of creatures. I can feel them, gliding, feeding on the
magic. My magic. They are as much vermin as the rest of you.
Bryce was careful not to look at Nesta, who was walking around the
crystal coffin. Nesta had stated before that the Worm of Middengard had
consumed her power. Could this be the type of creature Vesperus
mentioned?
And perhaps more importantly: Was Nesta still weakened? Or had his
power returned?
Bryce gripped Aster tighter. The power of the sword reverberated in the
palms of his hands like the beat of a heart.
—But why store your power here? It's an island... not exactly an easy
place to access.
— Certain places, girl, are better suited to holding power than others.
Places where the veil between worlds is thin and magic erupts naturally.
Our light thrives in these environments, supported by the regenerative
magic of the earth. — She gestured around them. — This island is a
tenuous place... the mists around it declare so.
Bryce continued, giving Nesta more time to get closer to Vesperus.

— We have nothing like this on Midgard.

But didn't they have it? The Quarter of Bones, surrounded by impenetrable
mists, contained all of secundalux.
“Everyone has at least one soft spot,” Vesperus said slowly. —And there
are always people better suited to explore it... to claim its powers, to travel
through them to other worlds.
The Northern Rift was also shrouded in mist, Bryce noticed. A space
between worlds — a tenuous place. And the riverbank where she had landed
in this world... was also shrouded in mist.
“Theia had the gift,” said Vesperus, “but she didn't understand how to
claim the light. I made a point of never teaching during her training... how
she could light up entire worlds if she wanted, if she harnessed the power to
amplify her own. But you, Thief of Light... she must have passed the gift on
to you. And it looks like you learned what she couldn't.
Vesperus looked down at his bare feet, at the rock beneath.

— Theia never discovered how to access the power I stored beneath my
palace. She had no choice but to leave him there, buried in the veins of this
mountain. Bad luck for her... lucky for me.
Oh, gods. There was a fucking primalux core there, right below her feet...
Vesperus smiled.
— You should have killed me when you had the chance.
The light went up the asteri's legs, penetrating its body. One
blinding flash and then...
Vesperus's red mouth opened with joy and triumph, but
no sound came out. Just dark blood.
Bryce blinked at the noise. The wet jet. The silver glow that appeared
between Vesperus's glistening breasts.
The primalux that was climbing up the asteri's body trembled. And
disappeared.
Nesta had thrust the Ataraxia right into Vesperus's chest.
Ithan didn't deserve to exist. Breathe.

And yet, there he was, sitting in the seat of a car approaching the docks
of Ionia. There he was, praying that the Doe hadn't given them all away and
that the ship was waiting to take them to Pangera.
Killer of yours. Assassin. The thoughts echoed in his

bones.
Ithan had killed the only one who could lead the Valbaran wolves to
a different future, an alternative to Sabine.
It didn't matter that it was accidental. He had torn her neck. And when he
removed his fist, he decapitated her.
To save his friends, he had done an unspeakable and unforgivable thing.
He was no better than the Doe.
Ithan caught a glimpse of his reflection in the car window and quickly
turned around.
***
Ataraxia had killed the Worm of Middengard. But there was no indication that
the blade was also capable of killing an asteri.
That anything, in any world, would be capable of, except Apollion.
— Get away from me... — Bryce warned Nesta, but the warrior growled
at Bryce.
—She was making you talk until she had the opportunity to kill you with
that hidden light, you idiot.
Dark blood dripped from Vesperus' lips.
— You really are an idiot, girl.
Power escaped Bryce's hands as Vesperus placed his hand on the tip
of the Ataraxia and pushed it. The sword pierced his chest. The movement
was strong enough for Nesta to stumble, the shock turning her face pale.
Vesperus turned around slowly. He smiled at Nesta. Then to the hole

between her breasts, already healing. All that primalux was cutting-edge
healing magic. When absorbed in such a large dose...
— The Ataraxia didn't work — Nesta whispered, the shock still written
on her face. - The treasure...
—Do not invoke the Treasury — ordered Azriel. — Don't bring him near
her.
Nesta shook her head.
- But...
— Not even to save our lives — warned Azriel.
"Ah, I'll get the Treasure soon," said Vesperus, and looked
to the hole above his coffin, to the ruined chamber beyond.
For a moment, Bryce was not in the tomb, but in the Griffin Antique
Shop. In the blink of an eye, she was in the library below the gallery, Micah
kept under control, Lehabah begging her to go...
She found a way. She killed a damn archangel.

There were two blades that practically screamed for her to use. Bryce
reached out his hand again, full of his will, to Azriel. And just like Aster, the
Truth Revealer flew from his hands. He tried to grab her, but not even his
quick movements could stop her. To stop Bryce as the knife flew towards
his fingers.
The hilt of the dagger rested in her hand, cold and heavy.
The female's body began to hum. How to have a blade in
each hand — the Aster and the Revealer of Truth — electrified her.
Bryce took a step toward Vesperus, who took a step back.
little. As Bryce suspected he would.
Behind her, Nesta and Azriel fired twin beams of magic, one silver and
one blue, arcing toward Vesperus from two directions. Dividing Vesperus'
attention for a second...
According to the one Bryce had used to kill Micah.
According to the one he now used to attack the asteri, with the sword
in one hand and the knife in the other.
Bones collided with metal and Vesperus screamed in rage as
Bryce plunged the Truth Teller and Aster into his chest.
Bryce threw his power at Aster, light coursing through the blade.
dark, wanting her to destroy this damn monster...
She placed her desire on the Truth-Revealer, and the shadows flowed...
And where the two blades met, where Bryce's light met
merged, power met power.
The sounds became muffled. Magic like lightning surged through her,
from her. The chamber rippled, a restrained rumble echoing through Bryce.
His blood roared, a beast howling at the moon. I was vaguely aware of a
glow, a radiant light that flowed through Aster, the dagger...
Vesperus struggled, moving out of Bryce's reach and falling to her knees.
The asteri bent over, her hands gripping the hilts of her blades. She
he hissed as his skin touched the black metal.
— I'm going to kill you for this.
But the words were slow... slurred.
No, it was time that was slowing down, undulating, as it had with Micah,
as if the blades were killing the asteri, a presence of great power in the
world...
A whip of blue magic shot across the world, a ribbon of cobalt piercing
primalux and darkness. She could see every bond
and spiral wrapped around Vesperus' neck.

Time returned, speeding up to its normal pace.
- Stop! shouted Bryce, but it was too late.
Vesperus brought her hand to her neck as Azriel's blue light dissolved
into her skin. She gave a strangled laugh as blood leaked from her mouth.
—Still so ignorant. Your power is and will always be mine.

Blue magic appeared at her fingertips, absorbed by the Illyrian attack.
She wrapped one hand around it like a glove and grabbed the Aster's
handle.
As if this provided the barrier he needed, allowing him to touch the
blade, Vesperus tore away the Aster and dropped it on the rocks, covered
in blood.
No... it hadn't worked. The sword and the dagger united do not
Mataram.
With her hand glowing blue, Vesperus looked at the knife still in her
chest and then smiled at Bryce as she wrapped her fingers, still surrounded
by lightning, around the hilt.
“I'm going to carve you with this, girl.
Nesta twirled Ataraxia in her hand and lifted it. Azriel shouted at her,
“Throw your power at the blade!
- No! shouted Bryce. Aster and the Truth-Revealer had weakened the
asteri. If she could figure out how to amplify that power, she could kill them
all...
Vesperus had just gently plucked the Truth-Revealer from her chest
when the Ataraxia sliced through flesh and bone, dark blood—or whatever
ichor flowed through an asteri's veins—spraying out.
Vesperus's dark head fell onto the rocks.

The Ataraxia was engulfed in silver fire as Nesta drove the blade into
the asteri's fallen head. Again. And again. Ichor and light leaked from the
shattered body, and between one stab and another, Nesta's arm slowed
down, slowed down, slowed down...
It was time slowing down again. Bryce could see every spark of silver
flame that surrounded the blade reflected in Nesta's eyes.
The sword came down for the last time on Vesperus' head.
Inch by inch, breaking bones and spilling blood...
Time returned to normal, but Vesperus did not.
Vesperus, the only asteri left in that world, was dead.
***
There was a small boat waiting for them. So far, so good.

Tharion couldn't bear to look at Ithan. Not for anyone
from his friends, not even to the elves, who did so much for him.
The captain waved, a silent order for them to hurry while they were still
protected by the darkness. Dawn was beginning to turn the sky gray.
They abandoned the car at the end of the pier and walked quickly
towards the small boat. Once they were on the Freighter of the Deep, they
could no longer be tracked, even if the Viper Queen had followed the car
there.
Tharion reached into his pocket and touched the white stone that
would summon the ship. Dec, Flynn and the goblins jumped into the boat,
Dec was talking quietly to the captain, but Holstrom stopped at the edge
of the dock.
Tharion approached him silently.
The waters were clear, even at six meters deep. He
he could jump there, enjoying the cool water of the ocean...
He dared not send a wave across the waters of the world announcing
your presence. Coward.
Flynn called out to
them, “Come on, idiots!
Tharion looked at Ithan, but the wolf stared at the eastern horizon. The
rising sun.
— Ready? — asked Tharion.
“I have to go back,” Holstrom said harshly.
- What? — Tharion turned to him. - Like this?
The wolf slowly turned to face him, his gaze dark.
Tharion felt the weight of guilt for what he had done to this male, making
Holstrom fight for him.
— To the City of the Crescent Moon — Ithan said, his expression impassive
— I have to go back.
- Why?
—Holstrom! Ketos! — Dec shouted as the boat's engine revved.
Ithan just said quietly.

— To do the right thing.
A tremor of muscles and a wave of light, and the human form
turned into a huge wolf.
— Ithan... — Tharion began.
The wolf turned and ran down the pier, back into the barren field,
golden in the growing light.
Flynn shouted,
“Holstrom, what the fuck!
But the wolf had already reached the shore. Then to the main building
from the marina. Then to the next alley... and finally he disappeared.
Silence dominated, interrupted only by the roar of the engine.
Tharion turned to the boat, to the two friends on board, the elves shining like
three small stars between them.
—What the fuck was that? demanded Flynn.
Tharion shook his head, without saying anything, and climbed into the boat.
It was all his fault. He raised his face to the sky as the boat moved toward
the open sea and wondered if he would ever see Valbara again.
If he deserved to see her.

Bryce couldn't move for a few moments. Vesperus was

dead.
Nesta moved her hand and the creature's body burned with her
strange silver fire.
When the asteri was reduced to ash, Bryce picked up the sword and knife from
the ground, both blades dripping with Vesperus' blood.
She turned to Nesta and Azriel.
— You shouldn't have killed her. If we could keep
under control, we could extract a lot of information...
— Do you have any idea what you almost did here? — Nesta raged, covered in
Vesperus's dark ichor. She was still holding Ataraxia, as if she hadn't yet decided
whether she was done killing. —What caused it?
— Believe me, I know better than you what the asteri can do.
—Then you have even fewer excuses for your actions—

countered Nesta. His sword rose.
Azriel reached his scarred hand out to Bryce, panting.
— Open the passage from here. You will come back with us. Now
same.
To that cell under a different mountain. Where she had no doubt

that she would be subjected to the interrogation that Vesperus should
have received.
Bryce snorted.
— I'm going to Hell. — Debris began to float around her. — You
killed the only person here who could have given me the answer I
needed.
— You're looking for a way to kill the daglan. Well, I just killed that
monster,” Nesta said. —Isn't that answer enough?
— No — said Bryce — You just left me with a lot more doubts.
She let her power flow from the star on her chest. From the Horn in
your back.
“Don't you dare,” Azriel warned with lethal gentleness.

But Bryce pushed back some of his power. Sharp and accurate, like
Silene had used to carve the stones. How Azriel had focused his own
power on her star before.
The light cut through the stone and sizzled, a line literally drawn at
Azriel's feet.
Whatever changed in his power with the addition of Silene's magic...
Damn. It would be very useful.
“I'm not going to tell them about you,” Bryce said coldly, even though
part of her was amazed at the laser she had created from the purest
magic. Another part of her shuddered at the sight, the power eerily
similar to the one Rigelus had used against her before leaping through
the Eternal Palace Gate. — I swear on my partner's life. Even if
Rigelus…” She shook her head. — I won't say a word to them about
this place.
Azriel dared to step over the line she had thrown onto the ground.
— They will get this information out of you. People like me, like
them... we always get the information we need. — His gaze darkened
with the promise of endless pain.
"I'm not going to let it get to that point," Bryce said, and sent his
scorching power through the star again, straight into Harry's sarcophagus.
glass.
Crystal like the Gate that opened the way to this world.
The sarcophagus glowed... and then darkened into a hole.
— Please — Azriel asked, his gaze looking at her hands. The Aster...
and the Revealer of Truth. Something like panic filled
his brown eyes.
Shaking his head, Bryce backed away toward the hole he had made in
the world. In the universe. She prayed that it would take her to Midgard.
She looked into Nesta's eyes. A furious silver fire flickered there.
— You're a monster, just like them — Nesta accused.

Bryce knew. She always knew.
— It's just that love does that to us.
Silver flames roared toward her like a tidal wave, but Bryce was already
leaping, blades in hand as he moved.
A cold like he had never felt before passed through his head, his spine...
And then the light of Nesta's silver flame went out as the gate closed
above Bryce, nothing but darkness surrounding her as she sank deeper
and deeper into the pit.
Back home.
ÿÿÿÿÿ ÿÿ
ÿ ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ
Pollux and the Falcon had been gone for hours, along with Rigelus, and
Hunt was no closer to knowing who they would choose to kill. I was
betting on Baxian, but there was a good chance Pollux realized Bryce
would be devastated if they killed Ruhn. If Bryce ever came home to the
news.
He was surprised and distraught when he regained consciousness
and noticed a familiar weight growing on his back.
All he had to do was look at Baxian and discover the origin: somehow,
both of their wings were growing again at high speed, despite the
Gorsian shackles. Someone must have injected them with something to
speed up this healing—not that that was a good sign.
He wondered if his captors had realized that an itch that never went
away would be as terrible a torture as whips and irons. Gritting his teeth
and trying to ignore it, Hunt squirmed, arching his spine as if to help
ease the unrelenting sensation. He would give anything, anything, for a
little scratch...
—Orion. — Aidas' voice sounded in his head, in the chamber. A cat

with eyes resembling a blue opal stone was crouched on the floor,
amidst the blood and waste. The same one Rigelus had used to trick
Hunt months before.
— Aidas... or Rigelus? — Hunt grunted.

Aidas was smart enough to understand that Hunt needed proof. The
demon prince said, “Miss. Quinlan met
me on a park bench outside the Temple of the Oracle when he was
thirteen. I asked her what blinds an Oracle.
So it was him, and not some trick of Asteri's.

“Bryce,” Hunt groaned.
— I'm looking for her — Aidas informed. Hunt would be able
I could have sworn the cat looked sad.
—What does Rigelus want with my lightning?
Aidas's tail swung.
“So that's why he's trying so hard to destroy you.
— He threatened to kill one of them if I didn't give him some

lightning. — Hunt nodded at Ruhn and Baxian.
Aidas was indignant.
— Don't do this, Athalar.
- Too late. He has already harvested some in a crystal like
primalux. And the son of a bitch is still going to kill one of them.
Aidas's blue eyes filled with concern, but the
prince said nothing.
Then Hunt asked again, "What
does he want with my lightning?"
— If I had to guess... I would say that for the same reason that Sofie
Renast's lightning was sought after: to resurrect the
dead.
Hunt's head swam.
— My lightning doesn't do that kind of thing. We didn't even know Sofie's
lightning did that.
Aidas was left without a reaction.
— Well, apparently Rigelus thinks both lightning sources are capable of
doing this.
— How did you get this information? We hadn't figured it out, and we
spent weeks trying to find information to
respect for Sophie. — Hunt tried to clear away the confusion in his mind.
No, he knew that wasn't possible.
— I don't sit around waiting for you to contact me — argued Aidas. — My
spies listen to the rumors whispered in Midgard... and when I find something
worrying, I investigate.
—So the Queen of Rio was hunting for Sofie to... get involved.
with necromancy? Why not go to Quarteirão dos Ossos?
— I don't know what the Queen of Rio wanted.
Hunt searched his memory for what had happened to Sofie's corpse after
they found it in the morgue aboard the Freighter of the Deep. What had
Cormac done to him? Was it still on the ship? And if so, did the Queen of the
Ocean know what she had in her hands?
He was seething with doubts, but one stood out.
—Wouldn't it have been easier for Rigelus to go after Sofie's body?
Why bother coming after me?
— You appeared quite conveniently for him, Athalar.
Not to mention the fact that you're alive and easier to command than a corpse.
— I know some archangels who would have different opinions on this.
Aidas's mouth twitched upward, but he replied, "It must be some

time before Rigelus discovers how to wield the lightning he extracted from
you." But I must admit that I am... distressed to hear about this new
experiment of his. It doesn't bode well for any of us if Rigelus is getting
involved with
The deads.
- Because now? Hunt asked. — For the love of Urd, do
centuries that I have been enslaved.
— Maybe they finally discovered what your father created you to be.
Even the terrible itch on my back was forgotten at these words.
—What the hell does that mean?

But Aidas just shook his head.
— That story is for another time, Athalar.
— That story is for now, Aidas. Cryptic mentions about my father,

the black crown, secrets about my powers...
— They don't mean anything if you don't get out of these dungeons.
—Then stop emerging from the shadows and find a key.
- I can't. My body is not real here.
— It was quite real in Quinlan's apartment.
—That was a portal, a summons. This is more
for... a cell phone call.
—Then send one of your little friends through the Sunrise Rift.
North to help us...
— It's too far from Nena. They wouldn't arrive in time to make any
difference. You will get the answers you want, Athalar, I promise. If you
survive. But if the Asteri can use their lightning to resurrect the dead, in
a faster and less limited way than in traditional necromancy, then the
armies they can create...
— You're not helping me feel better about giving up some of my

power to them. — A little more guilt to burden his soul. He didn't know
how he hadn't let himself be destroyed by the weight of it all.
— Try not to give in any more, then. — But Aidas looked with pity
for him. — I'm sorry that one of your friends is going to die tomorrow.
“Fuck,” Hunt said hoarsely. — Do you have any idea who they chose?
Aidas tilted his head, more feline than princely. As if

could hear things Hunt couldn't hear.
— The one whose death will have the greatest impact on you and
Bryce. Hunt closed his eyes. — The fairy prince.
This was all Hunt's fault. I hadn't learned anything since the Fallen.
And he would be at peace with accepting the punishment alone, but that
others would have to be punished, that Ruhn...
“I'm sorry,” the Gorge Prince said again, and he seemed to be
serious.
But Hunt said, his voice
hoarse: — If you see her... if you see her again... tell her...
Don't go back. Do not dare to enter this world of pain, suffering and
misery. That he was very sorry for not stopping everything.
“I know,” Aidas said, without needing Hunt to conclude first.

to disappear into the darkness.
Bryce had fallen between worlds. And yet, when he landed, he crashed into
a wall.
Apparently, magical interstellar travel didn't take physics into consideration.
His head was throbbing and his mouth was so dry it hurt. The rough
fibers of a rug scratched his cheek, muffling the sounds of an enclosed
space. It was dry and a little moldy. The smell was familiar.
— Look how interesting — said slowly a male voice in her language. It

was the most wonderful sound Bryce had ever heard.
Though perhaps it would have been better if the words had come from
someone other than the Autumn King.
He hovered over her, hands engulfed in flames. Above him, a golden
orrery clicked and hummed. He had ended up in his father's private office.
The Autumn King's lips curved into that familiar cruel smile.
—And where have you been, Bryce Quinlan?

Bryce opened his mouth, power gathering...
And extinguishing itself.
“You move fast for a damned old man,” she growled, straining against the
Gorsian cuffs on her wrists. At least there were no chains attached to them,
just the wrists of the handcuffs.
But it was enough. Bryce couldn't even summon a flicker of starlight.
The father knew. He walked over to the gigantic wooden table like
If I had all the time in the world.
In those initial seconds, when he landed there, in the worst place in the
entire fucking world, he had not only nullified her power with those handcuffs—
he had also disarmed her. Aster and the Truth-Revealer were now behind him,
at the table. Along with her cell phone.
Bryce lifted her chin, even though she remained seated on the floor.
— Are Ruhn and Hunt alive?
Something like disgust flashed in the Autumn King's eyes.
As if such mortal bonds should be the least of her worries.
— Lay your cards on the table, Bryce Quinlan.

“I thought my name was Bryce Danaan now,” she teased.
“To the detriment of the lineage, yes,” said the Autumn King with his hands.
eyes sparkling. - Where have you been?
— There was a sale going on at the mall with free samples — Bryce joked,
his voice monotone. — Are Ruhn and Hunt still alive?
The Autumn King tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over the shirt.
filthy and her leggings are torn.
— I was informed that you were no longer on this planet.
Where did you go?
Bryce refused to answer.
The father gave a discreet smile.
— I can connect the dots. You arrive from another world carrying a dagger
that matches Aster. The dagger of prophecy, isn't it? — His eyes glittered with
greed. — Which hadn't been seen since the First Wars. If I were to guess, I'd
say you've managed to get to a place I've been wanting to go to for a long time.
— He looked at the planetarium.
“You might want to think twice before packing your bags,” Bryce said. —
They don't really like jerks.
— This trip hasn't changed your sharp tongue at all, from what I see.
She smiled with an extra dose of sweetness.

— You're still a pretty scumbag, from what I see.
The Autumn King pursed his lips.
— I would be careful if I were you. — He left the table and walked
towards her. —No one knows you're here.
— Taking his daughter hostage: what a big daddy.
— You are my guest here until I make the decision to
free her.
— When will it happen? — She batted her eyelashes with exaggerated
innocence.
— When I have the guarantees I'm looking for.
Bryce tapped his chin in contemplation.
— How about this... you release me and I don't kill you for being late?
A low, teasing laugh. How had his mother once loved this cold-blooded
reptile?
— I have already reinforced the protections throughout the house and sent the
servants and guards away.
— Does this mean we're going to have to cook it ourselves?
The intensity on his face didn't lessen.
— No one will even know you're back in this world until I think it's time.
— And then you're going to tell the asteri? — Her heart seemed to stop
beating. I couldn't let that happen.
The father smiled again.
- It only depends on you.
***
Ithan ran without stopping to the east gate of Crescent Moon City, thousands of
miles from the dock in Ionia where he had left Tharion and the others.

He couldn't get on the boat. Ketos could have the ability to
ignore the consequences of one's actions, but Ithan does not.
Golden by the setting sun, Crescent Moon City was still bustling as ever,
not knowing what he had done. How everything had changed.
He followed the coward's path through the city, cutting through CiRo instead
of heading straight to Istros through the Moonwood. If he met another wolf right
now...
He didn't want to know what he would do. What would you say.
Amid the hustle and bustle of rush hour, he was a nobody, but he still held
his own in the alleys and side streets. He didn't look at Heart's Gate as he
passed it, nor did he allow himself to look east toward Bryce and Danika's old
apartment as he passed by.
He just looked straight ahead, toward the approaching river.

Towards Cais Preto at the end of the street.
Although the chaotic crowd was moving through the night in the rest of the
city, Cais Preto was silent and empty, shrouded in fog. Some people on the
dock were crying on the benches nearby, but there was no one actually on the
deck.
Ithan couldn't look any harder into the mist, toward the Bone Quarter. He
prayed that Connor wasn't looking at him from across the river.
Ithan changed into his humanoid form before walking a block west along
the pier. Ithan knew where the entrance was... everyone knew.
Nobody ever went there, of course. Nobody dared.

The huge black door was in the middle of a marble building of the same
color — a facade. The building was made with an elaborate mausoleum in
mind. The door was the focus, the main reason for its existence: it led not into
the building, but underneath it.
Nobody guarded the door. Ithan supposed it wasn't necessary. Anyone
who wanted to rob this place deserved whatever they faced inside.
Old, rough marks covered the black door. Like scratches carved by
inhuman nails. In the center, an engraving of a horned humanoid skull
engulfed in flames stared back at him.
Ithan hit his hateful face once. Twice. The metal
it creaked loudly.
The door opened, silent as a tomb. On the other side,
only darkness waited, a long, straight staircase into the pitch black.
It could very well be Hell on Midgard.
Ithan felt nothing, it was nothing, when he entered. While the door
closed behind him, sealing him in a solid, never-ending night.
Locking him inside the House of Flame and Shadow.
If the Autumn King was indeed preparing the meals, then Bryce had to
admit that he wasn't a bad cook. Roast chicken, green beans, and
some sliced bread waited on the marble table in the vast dining room.
Apparently she had arrived around three o'clock on a Friday

afternoon. That was all he could get out of him as he took her from the
office to a room on the second floor. I didn't say what the date was, or
even the month. Or year.
He felt shivers of nausea. Hunt had been trapped in the Asteri
dungeons for years last time... Would he still be there? Would he even
be alive? And Ruhn? And her family?
There was nothing in the room to help her answer these questions.
The place was an elegant—if dull—mix of marble and upholstered
furniture in various shades of gray and white.
Her father wanted her to be isolated from the world, and he did so:
without television. No cell phone — not even a landline. A glamor
glowed from the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking an indoor lavender
garden, blocking the view from prying eyes. A glance toward the sky
showed an iridescent bubble that hovered over the entire place —
wards. Like those that the fae
established to blockade the territory during the spring attack.
But it was the pleading cries of the fae parents as Silene locked them
out of their home world, leaving their children to the cruelty of the asteri,
that echoed in Bryce's head.
And there, sitting on the other side of the huge dining table with her
father, hours later, after showering and putting on jeans, a T-shirt and a
skin-tight navy blue sports jacket that he had given her — and was
waiting for, with all my heart, that weren't things some hooker had left
behind," Bryce asked, "So that's your plan?" Leave me locked in here
until I die
of boredom and tell you everything? Or is the idea to deprive me of
information so that I can tell anything in exchange for some minimal
news about Hunt?
The father cut the chicken with a precision that served to inform him
how he used to deal with his enemies. But he sighed.
—Your hosts in the other world must have a good tolerance
for disrespectful nonsense, if you're still alive.
— Most people call it charm.
He took a sip of wine.
- How much time you was there?
— I want to know about Ruhn and Hunt.
He took another sip.
— A poor attempt to catch me by surprise and make me respond.
— You know, just being a first-rate scumbag to withhold information

like that.
He put down his
wine: — Here's how this will work: for every question I answer, you'll
receive an answer to one of your questions.
If I think you're lying, you won't get any response.
— You know, I just played this game with someone even more
horrible than you... shocking, I know... and it didn't end well for her. I
think you'd better skip the questions and answers part and just tell me
what I want to know.
He just stared at her. I could sit there all night.

Bryce tapped his foot on the marble floor, weighing his options.
— Dozen bombs.
—Did you really go to the fae homeworld?

- Yes.
A muscle twitched in his jaw.
— Athalar and Ruhn are still alive.
Bryce tried not to let his relief show.
- How long...
He raised a finger.
- My turn.
Idiot.
— What was their world like?
— I don't know... I only saw a cell and some tunnels and caves. But...
it felt free. Of the asteri, at least. — And then, because she knew he
would be irritated by this, she added: — The fae there are stronger than
us. The Asteri take a part of our power through the Descent... it feeds
them, sustains them. In this other world, the fey maintain all their power,
in its purest form.
She could have sworn his face paled, even in the flattering golden
glow of the iron chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.
This left her more satisfied than she thought she would be.
— How long was I gone? she asked.
- Five days.
Time passed similarly in both worlds, then.
- AND...
—What did you discover while you were there?
How to respond? Tell him the truth...
— I'm still processing it.
— That is not an acceptable answer.
“I learned,” she replied, “that most fae,
No matter what world they're in, they're a bunch of selfish idiots.
He raised his eyebrows. -
And even?
She crossed her arms.
— Let's say I know a female who could sweep up assholes

like you from the map without even breaking a sweat.
And yet Nesta hadn't done that to Bryce. I had thought it was luck, but
was it possible that the female had restrained herself? Nesta was nothing
like Silene or Theia.
It didn't make any difference now, but Bryce still had a chip on his
shoulder.
— That still doesn't answer my question. There must be some
reason why you ended up in that world... what did you learn?
— Firstly, I ended up there by accident. And second, technically I
answered your question, so be more specific next time.
Something dark and lethal passed over her father's face.

- As...
Bryce raised a finger mockingly.
—What happened after I left?
His father's whiskey-colored eyes flashed with anger at the sight of
that finger, which conveyed the power and insistence of the right to speak.
It must be an even more irritating sight when coming from a female.
But he seemed to contain his anger and said, full of smugness, as if

he were relishing the bad news as much as she had when she announced:
— The Asteri threw Athalar and his brother into the dungeons, and
managed to prevent others from knowing what happened in the palace.
They only informed those of us who needed to know. — He finished the
wine. —Did you bring these fae back to Midgard?
— Did you see any fae come here with me? — He didn't need to know
that she hadn't left on good terms. Azriel could very well have killed her if
she had stayed a little longer.
Bryce rested his forearms on the table, his Gorsian cuffs clicking
against the cold marble.
— So you've known for five days that Ruhn has been in the Asteri
dungeon and you haven't done anything to help him?
— Ruhn deserves everything that comes his way. He chose his own
destiny.
She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palm.
— Holy shit, but he’s your son.
— I may have others.
— Not if I kill you first. — A familiar white mist

dominated her vision.
The father smiled, as if sensing the fey's primal fury —
but an anger that is above all human.
— You are so much like your mother. - He smiled. - Do not want
Know where she ended up?
— I know very well that you wouldn't be able to avoid telling me if something
had happened. I would have great pleasure in doing that. Why did the Asteri
keep Hunt and Ruhn alive?
— I believe it's my turn.
— I believe it's my turn. Don't you want to know where she ended up?
counts as a question, asshole.
The father blinked, as if, despite himself, he found it amusing — and was
impressed.
- Right then.
— Why did they keep Ruhn and Hunt alive?
— I imagine to use them both against you, although I can't be sure. — He
poured himself more wine, the dim sunlight coming through the windows
making the liquid glisten like fresh blood. — Tell me more about this knife... is
it the one from our prophecies, Aster's sister?
— Herself. They call her the Revealer of Truth. — He opened his mouth
again, but she banged her fingers on the table. The best thing to do would be
to explore the terrain, get an idea of where possible allies were, and if they
had survived. — How many does Ophion have?
— No attacks since the one in the laboratory. They are very lacking.
For all intents and purposes, Ophion is over.
Bryce suppressed a shudder.
The Autumn King drank the wine again. At this rate, I would drink the
entire bottle before sunset ends.
— How did the Revealer of Truth end up in your hands?
— I stole it. — She gave a discreet smile when she saw his face.
I dislike him. — And my other friends... are they all alive?
— If you considered traitor Cormac a friend, then no. But the rest of them, from
what I hear, are alive and well. — Bryce was shaken. Cormac was—” “Did you
steal the dagger to fulfill the prophecy?”
She shrugged with all the nonchalance she could muster and put down her
fork.
— I'm tired of this game.
Cormac was dead. Would he have died that day in the laboratory, or would it
have been later — perhaps in the Asteri dungeons, during interrogation? Or did
they just send the male home to his shitty father and let the King of Avallen make
mincemeat of him for dishonoring the family?
The Autumn King smiled as if he had won.

— Then you are dismissed. See you tomorrow.
She ignored the searing pain of grief to say: — Fuck you.
He just tilted his head and went back to eating in silence.
***
Ithan descended the steps of the House of Flame and Shadow in such darkness
that not even his wolf eyes could penetrate it.
He didn't know what awaited him at the end of the stairs, he had never heard
anything about it. But I knew I was out of options.
He couldn't say how long he went down the stairs, the air thick and dry around
him. Like a tomb.
The sound of sneakers on the steps echoed off the black walls. My eyes
burned from the effort of trying to see something, without success. If the steps
ended in a fall, he would have no way of knowing.
I wouldn't be warned.
And he really had no warning. But not for a fall. The metal creaked, and his
skull along with it, as Ithan hit a wall.
wall. He backed away, cursing...

A light, golden and faint, appeared in the darkness of the stairs.
It wasn't a wall. It was a door, and beyond it, silhouetted by the light, was
the slender figure of a female. Even before he could make out her face, he
recognized the voice. Malicious, refined, bored.
— A nice way to knock on the door — commented Jesiba Roga, in a

drawling voice.
Jesiba Roga led Ithan through an underground hall of black stone, lit
only by fires crackling in fireplaces shaped like fanged mouths that
roared. In front of these fireplaces rested drakis of various shades,
vampires drinking goblets of blood, and daemonakis in suits typing on
laptops.
In a strange way, this place was... normal. Like a private club.
In fact, it was actually a kind of private club. The headquarters of

any House was always open to all members. Some chose to live there,
especially the workers responsible for the House's daily procedures.
But some came just to walk, to meet or to rest.
Ithan, to his embarrassment, had never been to the headquarters

of Lunathion's House of Earth and Blood. He also never went to the
main headquarters, in Hilene. Bryce had been there as a child, he
remembered, but Ithan couldn't remember the details.
Ithan followed Jesiba down the long hallway, past people who
barely glanced in his direction, and then through a set of black wooden
double doors carved with the House's symbol, a skull with horns.
I couldn't say what I expected. A council chamber, some fancy office...
But not the elegant onyx bar, lit with a deep blue light, like the heart of a
flame. A jazz quartet played on a small stage under an arch at the back of
the space, the several high tables—all adorned with votive glass of that blue
light—facing the direction of the music. But Roga went straight to the obsidian
glass bar with golden stools.
A female draki with golden scales, wearing a transparent black dress,

was working at the bar and nodded towards Roga. The sorceress nodded
discreetly as she sat down and patted the bench next to her, ordering Ithan:
— Sit down.
Ithan glared at the sorceress when he noticed the reference to his

dog nature, but he obeyed anyway.
A moment later, the bartender slid two dark glasses towards them, both
with smoke coming out of them. Jesiba turned hers around, smoke escaping
from her mouth as she said, “When the doormen told me
that Ithan Holstrom was coming down the front steps, I thought they had
smoked too much radish.”
Ithan looked at the dark glass, the amber liquid that looked and smelled
like whiskey, even though he had never seen whiskey giving off smoke.
— Call it fumarshow — said Roga slowly. — Whiskey, ginger
grated and a little draki magic to make everything more chic.
Ithan took her at her word and turned at once. The drink
It came down burning — burning the nothingness that existed in it.
— Well — Roga said — considering that you drank this like there was no
tomorrow and the fact that you're here, I'm going to assume that things...
aren't going well for you.
— I need a necromancer.
— And I need a new assistant, but you'd be surprised
knowing that there is a shortage of competent professionals.
Ithan didn't hide his furious look.
- I'm serious.
Roga signaled the bartender to bring another round.
- Me too. Since Quinlan left me to work on the

Fae Archives, I have paperwork coming out of the thief.
Ithan was sure that the story between Bryce and Jesiba had
been different, but he said:
— Look, I didn't come here to talk to you...
— Yes, but you were lucky enough that the doormen called me to take
care of you, and not someone else. By now, one of the vampires would have
already taken a cone.
She nodded to the nearest high table behind them, where two beautiful
blondes in skin-tight black dresses sat, no drinks in front of them. They were
examining the people in the room, as if analyzing a menu.
Ithan cleared his throat.

— I need a necromancer — he repeated — right now.
Jesiba sighed and nodded in thanks to the bartender as she slipped
another smoke.
— It's been too long since your brother died.
— It's not for my brother — someone replied Ithan. —, is for someone else
Jesiba drank slowly this time. Smoke was coming out of his mouth
as she swallowed.
— Whatever it is, doggy, I suggest accepting reality once and for all.
— There's no way to accept reality at once — said Ithan.
He could have sworn that the glasses rattled, that the jazz quartet stopped
playing for a few moments, that the two vampires turned towards them. One
look from Jesiba was enough for the room to resume its rhythm.
—Who did you kill? — asked Jesiba, her voice so low it was almost
inaudible.
Ithan's throat constricted. He couldn't breathe...
—Holstrom. —Her eyes shone like flames.
sconces behind the bar.
There was no way to fix this, no undoing it. He was a traitor and a murderer
and…
— Who do you need to rebuild? — Roga's question was cold as ice.
Ithan forced himself to look at her and face what he had done.
—A lost Fendyr heiress.
***
“I guess we ate reheated leftovers last night, if that shitty yogurt you left
on my doorstep today counts as breakfast,” Bryce said to the Autumn
King as he plopped down in a red leather armchair and watched his
planetarium go by. .
Her father, sitting on the other side of the huge table, ignored her.
— How long are you going to keep me here?
— Are we back to the question game? I thought you got tired of it
last night. — He didn't look up from where he was writing, his red hair
over his broad shoulders.
She gritted her teeth.
— I'm just trying to calculate how much time I have left.

His golden pen — a fountain pen, really — ran across the paper.
— I will buy more food if the breakfast provisions were inadequate.
Bryce crossed his legs, the leather chair creaking as he moved.

reclining.
— Look at you, cooking your own food and shopping at the
supermarket. Wow, I'd almost pass for a functional adult and not a
spoiled brat.
The fabric of his gray t-shirt stretched across his chest as he
his shoulders tensed.
Bryce pointed to the planetarium.
— The Astronomer said you had a craftsman from Avallen do this for
you. How chic. — The Autumn King's eyes narrowed when he heard
about the Astronomer, but he didn't take his eyes off the paper. Bryce
continued teasing: — He said the planetarium is for contemplating big
questions about ourselves, like who we are and where we came from. I
find it hard to believe that you spend the day here thinking about
something so profound.
The pen stopped moving on the paper.

—The fae bloodlines have been weakening for generations. I dedicate my
life's work to investigating why. This planetarium was built to seek an answer
to this question.
She blew on her nails.
— Even more so after the beautiful girl here became a Princess
Certified star, right?
He gripped the pen so hard that Bryce was surprised.
not to have ripped off the gold coating.
— Doubts about the weakness of our lineage left me
have tormented you since long before you were born.
- Why? Who cares?
He lifted his head finally, his eyes cold and expressionless.
— I care if our people are getting weaker. If we become less than angels,
shapeshifters, witches.
—So it has to do with your ego.
— It has to do with our survival. The Fae have a favorable position with the
Asteri. If our power diminishes, they will lose interest in maintaining that
position. Others will emerge to take what we have, predators surrounding the
carcass. And the Asteri won't lift a finger to stop them.
—And that's why you and Morven set up Cormac and me to get together?
—King Morven also noticed this weakening. But he

can afford to hide behind the mist of Avallen.
Bryce drummed his fingers on the soft arm of the chair. — It
is true that the asteri cannot penetrate the mist that
near Avallen?
— Morven is almost certain they can't. But I don't know if Rigelus has even
tried to cross these barriers. — He glanced toward the tall windows to the left,
toward the glow of glamor that hovered above the olive trees and lavender
fields. The most barrier he could have to hide.
Bryce considered the options and decided to jump in by asking:

— Does the term tenuous place mean anything to you?
He tilted his head, and it never stopped being bizarre to notice the
when she herself was in the habit of doing the same thing.
— No. What do you mean?
— Just something I heard once. — It's
a lie. You've heard of it on the Fae homeworld.
Maybe it would have been better not to have asked. Perhaps it would be
too dangerous to reveal this to him. Not for her, but for the world she had
abandoned. Bryce stopped drumming his fingers, his hands resting on the cold,
soft leather arm.
— I only heard the expression, not the definition.
He analyzed her, feeling that this was also a lie, but something like
admiration flashed in his eyes.
— Insolent until you can't anymore.
Still seated, she made a half-curtsy.
The Autumn King continued, lazily twirling the pen between his fingers: — I
always knew your
mother was hiding something about you from me. She tried so hard to hide
you from me.
— Maybe because you're a sociopath?
He gripped the pen tightly again.
— Ember loved me, a long time ago. Only something great would be
capable of making this love end.
Bryce rested his chin on his hand, his expression the most curious.
innocence.
— Like when you hit her? Something big on that level?
The fire licked his shoulders, his long hair. But the voice
remained impassive.
— We don't need to pick at old wounds. I already said what I think about all
this.
— Yes, you regret it so much. So sorry that now he's doing exactly what she
feared all along: locking me on her property.
He pointed to the windows.

— Have you ever stopped to think that here, hidden from the world and from
prying eyes, you are safe? What if anyone on Midgard
discovering that you returned, wouldn't it take long for the news to reach the
Eternal Palace and you would be dead?
Bryce put his hand to his chest.
— I love that you're trying to pay off as a great savior... Seriously,
congratulations on your effort, but let's stop this nonsense.
I'm locked in here because you want something from me. What is it?
He didn't respond and instead turned to adjust the settings on a prism-like
device. Whatever changed caused sunlight to shine through the planetarium's
planets.
A prism—the opposite of what she had done with her power when she
fought Nesta and Azriel. While she condensed the light, the prism dissipated it.
She looked down at her hands, pale against the blood red of the leather
armchair. He had been running on adrenaline, desperation and bravado. How
had he managed to transform the light into a laser in those last moments in the
faerie world? He had acted on pure intuition at the time, but now... perhaps it
would be better not to know. Not to think about how its light seemed to get
closer and closer to the destructive power of an asteri.
“Ruhn tells me you've been holed up here all day, looking for patterns,”
Bryce said, nodding at the planetarium, the prism device, and the collection of
golden tools on the table. — What types of patterns?
She and Ruhn had had a good laugh talking about this, about how the all-
powerful Autumn King was nothing more than a conspiracy theorist. What does
he think he's going to find out? Ruhn had asked, bursting into laughter. That
the universe is like a gigantic tic-tac-toe game?
Bryce's heart sank at the memory.
The Autumn King wrote down something else, his pen scraping loudly
too much in the charged silence.
— Why should I trust a mouthy and indiscreet child
to keep my secrets?
— Is it a secret, then? So is this something controversial?
Disdain appeared on his handsome face.
— I once asked your brother to give me a seed of his starlight.
- Disgusting. Don't call it that way.

His nostrils flared.
— I was able to use the small seed he was able to produce in a way
that I found… beneficial. He tapped the gold-plated device that held the
prism.
— I didn't know that making rainbows on the walls was so important
to you.
He ignored her.
— This device refracts light, separating it so I can study every facet of
it. — He pointed to an identical artifact positioned right in front of the
other. — This device brings it back together into a single beam. I'm trying
to add more light in the process of putting it back together. If light can be
broken down and strengthened into its most basic form, there is a chance
it could coalesce into a more powerful version of itself.
She refrained from mentioning the blue stones Azriel wielded—how

they condensed and directed his power. Instead, he spoke slowly, “And
that's a good
way to spend your time because...?”
His silence was piercing.
— Let me see… — She started counting items on her fingers. —
Asteri are made of light. They feed on primalux. You are studying light, its
properties, beyond what science can already tell us...
A muscle pulsed in his jaw.

—Am I getting close? asked Bryce. — But if you have these kinds of
doubts about the asteri, why not ask them right away? — She hummed
in contemplation. — Maybe you want to use this against them?
He raised an eyebrow.
— Your imagination is really fertile.
— Oh, very much. But you weren't interested in me at all when I was
a child. And now, suddenly, when I revealed my magic light, you want me
to be part of your fucked up family.
— My only interest in you is in the lineage you will pass on.
— A shame that Hunt complicates all of this.

- More than you imagine.
She interrupted herself, but didn't take the bait and didn't ask any questions.
He continued to guide him through his ramblings, counting again on his fingers.
— So your daughter has light powers, you are interested in light patterns...
you want the information to be hidden from the asteri... — She laughed, finally
lowering her hand. — Oh, don't even try to say no — she teased when he
opened his mouth. — If I had wanted to help them, I would have already handed
myself over to them.
The Autumn King smiled. It was terrifyingly beautiful.
— You really are my daughter. More than Ruhn ever was.
— That's not a compliment. — But she continued, not bothering to bother
him with her guesses. — You want to know if I can kill them, don't you? The
asteri. If the Starry light is different from their light, and how is it
this difference. That's where the planetarium comes in: contemplating where we
came from... what kind of light we have, how it can be used as a weapon.
His nostrils flared again.
— And did you learn these things on your journey?
Bryce slapped his wrists with Gorsian cuffs. — Just
take this off and I can show you what I learned.
He smiled and picked up the prismatic device again.
- I am going to wait.
She hadn't thought for a second that this would work; but it seemed like he
knew that too. It was like a game, a dance between them.
Bryce nodded toward where he had left Aster and Truth Teller on the table
the day before. According to Ruhn, it was rare that the Autumn King dared to
touch the sword. It seemed to be true, as he hadn't moved the blades since
Bryce's crash landing.
— Let's talk about how I managed to add another point to my Magical Starry
Princess list: I combined the sword and the knife.
Prophecy fulfilled.
"You know nothing about this prophecy," said the Autumn King, and
returned to his work.
She asked in a sweet voice: —
So my interpretation is wrong? When knife and sword are reunited, so
will our people. Well, I went to our old world. I met some people. I made
them remember our existence. I came back here. So there are two people
brought together.
He shook his head in pure disgust.
— You know as little about these blades as you do about their true
nature.
She yawned exaggeratedly.
— Well, I know that only the Chosen One can wield the blades.
Wait... Does that mean you can't? As far as I remember... only
Ruhn and I have Chosen cards.
— Ruhn doesn't have the raw power to handle these things the right
way.
- But, I yes? —she asked in an innocent voice. -That's why I'm here?
Shall we cooperate in some sort of training setup so I can take down the
asteri for you?
— Who said I want to get rid of the asteri?
— You tried really hard not to mention how you feel about them. One
moment he's protecting me from them, the next he's trying to make the fae
get along with them. What is the right option?
— Can't it be both?
- Clear. But if you got rid of the asteri, you would have more power than
any other scheme involving my marriage to Cormac.
He adjusted a button on his device, making the light shift a millimeter to

the right.
—Does it matter who is in power, as long as the fae survive?
- Hum yes. One option is a parasitic plague in this world.

I think we can pass this one.
He dropped the device again.
— Explain that... parasite. You mentioned something about the
asteri to take part of our power through the Descent.
Bryce pondered. He held her gaze, seeing that she was having an internal
debate.
But who would he tell? At that time, the more people who knew, even the
stupidest ones, the better it would be. That way there would be no way the
secret would die with her.
And after all the shit she had learned and been through
passed... perhaps it would be good to put all the cards on the table.
So Bryce told him. Everything he had learned about the asteri, their
history, their feeding patterns, primalux and secundalux. Gods, it was even
worse when said out loud.
She stopped talking and leaned back in the chair.
—So we're basically a big buffet for the asteri.
He was quiet and attentive while she told him the details, but
Then he said, in a calm voice:
— Perhaps the Asteri have been taking too much, for too long, from the
weakened. generation of our people. This is why the bloodlines have
after generation. — He spoke more to himself than to her, but his eyes locked
with Bryce's as he continued: — So all the water on Midgard is contaminated.
— I don't think a filter will help you, if that's what you're thinking.
He looked irritated at her.

— But don't the fey of the other world suffer from this?
— No. The Asteri hadn't developed this nasty method of theft when they
occupied their world. — She rubbed her temples. —Maybe that sword and
dagger can eliminate the parasite. — She murmured again, as if she was
thinking about the matter. — Maybe you should let me impale you with them
so we can see what would happen.
"You'll never understand how they work," he said.

categorically.
- And you go? — She let skepticism show in her voice. - As?
— You're not the only one with access to ancient texts. Jesiba Roga's
collection is just a fraction of mine... and a fraction of what
exists in Avallen. I have studied the tradition long enough to draw some
conclusions.
- That's good for you. It's a genius.
Fire crackled at his fingertips—the same flame he used to burn Ruhn as a
child. She shook off that thought when he warned:
— I wouldn't be so impertinent if I were you. Your survival depends solely

on my good will.
Heavy, intense nausea twisted her belly. Whatever game or dance they
were involved in... this round could be his.
— Gods, you are the worst.

He picked up a nearby notebook and opened the green cover. It was full of
scribbles. Your research records and ideas. There was a stack of papers
underneath the notebook, also covered in his writing.
Leafing through the notebook, his voice sounded emotionless as he said:
- I am tired of you. You can go out.
Hunt knew what was coming when the Falcon left the door to the dungeon
open. I knew it would be bad when they were dropped on the filthy floor
again. Ruhn grunted at the pain it caused in his arm.
All this so that Hunt would do Rigelus' will. Undermining his

determination little by little, making not only him, but the males at his side
suffer as well, wearing him down until he reached the point where he
begged them to stop, offered anything to make it end, to save them. ..
“Get up, damn it,” ordered the Falcon from the doorway as Mordoc
and several of his feral wolves entered the chamber. They didn't wait
until Hunt obeyed the command before they grabbed him, the silver darts
on their Imperial uniforms shining.
Hunt bared his teeth. Some recoiled when they saw the expression
on his face. In the presence of Umbra Mortis, still untamed.
Even Mordoc, with all those silver darts stuck in his collar, paused,
thinking.
Hunt's legs shook and his body roared in pain, but he still stood up.
The barely formed wings moved, trying to open in their angelic fury. As
much as this was all his fault, he wouldn't give in without a fight.
“Rigelus requests an audience,” the Falcon said slowly, tapping an invisible

watch on his slender wrist. — Better not keep His Holiness waiting.
Hunt had no idea how Ruhn or Baxian managed to stand beside him. But
they did, amidst grumbles and hisses. A sideways glance at Baxian showed that
the Hellhound's wings—already formed but still as weak as Hunt's—were folded
defensively.
Hunt didn't have much hope that any of them would keep their wings after
that day. But losing them again would be better than losing Ruhn. Would Bryce
ever forgive him if he let Ruhn die?
Would he ever forgive himself?
Hunt already knew the answer.
Mordoc pointed a gun at Hunt's head, and the other feral wolves followed suit
with Baxian and Ruhn as they released the chains from the wall.
Hunt caught Ruhn's agonized, exhausted gaze. How were they going to get
up the short flight of stairs to where the Falcon was, dammit?
It was nice meeting you, Athalar.

The prince's voice was muffled. As if even the conversation between minds
demanded too much of his energy. Or maybe it was all those Gorsian stones in
them.
But somehow... Ruhn seemed to know his fate. And not
It felt like he was going to fight it.
— One step at a time, friends — murmured Baxian as they reached the top
of the stairs. Hunt hated having to put his hand on the cold wall to climb the steps.
He hated his irregular breathing, the pain in his body, the effort it took to lift each
foot.
But he did what Baxian said. One step at a time.

And then the Falcon was in front of them, still mocking. Mordoc and the feral
wolves kept their weapons trained as the son of a bitch bowed mockingly.
— This way, friends.

Mordoc laughed, the bastard.
Hunt trudged into the hallway, his head spinning.

The thin broth and dry bread had made for a shitty meal.
Quinlan would have made some shrewd comment about it. He could
almost hear her saying to Falcon: Where's my pizza, bird boy?
Hunt laughed to himself, and the Hawk looked at him over his shoulder, without
to understand.
Ruhn stumbled, almost falling face first onto the rocks. The feral
wolves advanced, lifting him before he fell for good. The prince's feet
scraped and pushed lightly against the door as he tried to stand, but
his entire body failed.
Hunt could do nothing but watch two feral wolves
dragging Ruhn like he was a fucking backpack.
Maybe it was a mercy for Ruhn to die. Was a
abominable thought, but...
“Please, let's take the elevator,” Baxian murmured behind him, and
Hunt laughed again. It was quite possible that he was on the verge of
hysteria.
“Shut the fuck up,” Mordoc growled, and Baxian grunted, no doubt
because of a punch the feral wolf had thrown at his bruised body.
Thank the gods, they were indeed led down the hall toward the
elevator. As if on cue, the gold-plated doors opened to reveal the Doe
in her immaculate uniform.
“Good morning, boys,” she purred, her face cold as death as she
held the door open with one slender hand. The other arm was in a
sling, wrapped in many bandages.
— Lidia — greeted Falcão slowly, and nodded to his injured arm.
— How are the burns healing?
Hunt limped into the elevator next to Lidia and looked at the Doe's
sling. Would she have stopped acting rebellious and returned to her
true self? Maybe he was using fire to persuade a prisoner to talk and
got a little too carried away. Ruhn's expression remained as neutral as
possible. He was on his feet again, slowly approaching the elevator.
— Well. — Lidia leaned against the button panel, her golden eyes
seeming to be on fire. She smelled Baxian and then said to Falcão: —
Couldn't you have given them a bath before?
“Rigelus said it should be right now,” replied the Falcon,
pushing Ruhn inside.
The prince hit the glass wall at the back of the elevator and fell to
the floor with a groan. The Falcon reached out to push Baxian, but the
Hellhound bared his teeth, and not even the Falcon would attempt any
grace as the Hellhound positioned himself next to Hunt, limping
discreetly.
How much had changed since those years with Sandriel. And yet,
so little.
— Room for two — an irritated Lidia warned the feral wolves, and
two impassive soldiers entered. Each had at least a dozen silver darts
in the collars of their gray uniforms.
Lidia ordered Mordoc: — Wait outside the bay, up there.
Mordoc nodded, golden eyes glowing in anticipation of bloodshed,

and growled something at the feral wolf unit that had them marching
quickly towards the stairs. With fierce joy on his face, Mordoc set off
with them.
Lidia waited until the feral wolves and their captain left before taking
her hand off the door. The elevator closed and began to slide upwards.
They emerged from the underground levels, rising to the crystal

palace above.
A blinding light hit Hunt's eyes—daylight. His eyes, accustomed to
the darkness, had difficulty focusing.
He couldn't make out anything in the world around him. He raised a
wing to block the light, the sharp pain in his body from the movement.
Ruhn and Baxian hissed, also backing away from the light.
The Falcon laughed.
— Just a taste of what Rigelus will do to you.

The two feral wolves laughed with him.
Hunt squinted as he lowered his wing and met the asshole's eyes.
- He is going to screw it up. — But no fucking way would these scoundrels do it?
beg and grovel, whether for his own life or for Ruhn's.
Lidia said, in a soft voice: —
You took the words out of my mouth, Athalar.
Hunt looked, but not fast enough.
Falcão certainly wasn't fast enough.
And Hunt knew he would remember this moment forever: the
moment Lidia Cervos pulled out her gun and fired right between the
Falcon's eyes.
All Ruhn noticed was the blinding light and then the explosion of gunfire.
Three bodies fell to the ground. The Falcon, followed by two wolves
feral. And in front of them, lowering the gun at her side... Lidia.
— What the fuck was that? Baxian shouted.
He did not know; Ruhn hadn't told him. Even though he was overshadowed
by anger and hatred, he never risked sharing what he knew about Daybright's
identity with anyone else who could betray her.
Using her hand without a sling, Lidia pressed an elevator button.
— We have one minute and thirty-five seconds to get to the car. — She pulled
a set of keys from her pocket and knelt before Athalar. A little clumsily because of
her bandaged hand, she first freed her ankles and then her wrists from the
Gorsian cuffs. Then it was Baxian's turn.
Ruhn blinked and she was in front of him, her eyes bright and clear.
“Calm down,” she whispered. Her slender fingers brushed his skin and the
Gorsian stone fell. Ruhn's magic surged, a wave of starlight rising within him.
It stopped at the end of the arm. He was missing his fucking hand...
He staggered. Lidia held him, lifting him with ease. But he didn't miss the
grunt of pain from whatever this had done to her arm, now free from the sling.
He was overcome by her scent, enveloping him and leaving him awake
as she wrapped her arm around his waist to keep him upright.
— How long has it been, Lidia? Baxian asked. — How long ago did you
switch sides? — His face was pure shock.
— Let's have time to chat about our rebellious past — she replied, her
voice dry, watching the floor numbers pass by. — When the doors open, go
to the left, then enter the first door, go down two flights, go through the door
and, finally, get into the car. It should fit all of you... and the wings. — She
looked over her shoulder, at Hunt and then at Baxian. — Are they healed
enough to fly yet? Did the primalux injection work?
It was to her that they should thank for the healed wings, as
preparation for escape?
“Weak, but functional,” panted Baxian. — But you lost the
judgment if you think we can leave...
“Shut up,” she snapped, her good arm squeezing Ruhn's side before
leaning him toward the door. — We only have a minute now.
The elevator dinged and Ruhn knew he should have been bracing himself,
just like Hunt and Baxian were, but he couldn't move his agonized, weak body
even when the doors opened...
Instead, Lidia moved him. She advanced down the corridor, almost
dragging, and turned left, with Athalar and Baxian behind her.
Dots flickered in Ruhn's vision, darkness gathering in the corners. She
barely felt her feet moving, keeping them moving, while Lidia ran with them
down the corridor to the door she had indicated, then the stairs...
Ruhn stumbled on the first step and she was there, lifting him on her
slender back and lifting him off the ground. Holy shit, she was carrying him,
despite her injured arm. He might have died of embarrassment, if every
movement hadn't made his arm hurt.
They got out and went through the glass door to the elevated parking lot.
A huge roofless jeep, which looked more like a tank, was waiting for them
there, with a machine gun mounted on the back.
— Baxian: machine gun — ordered Lidia as she dropped Ruhn into the
passenger seat, the pain threatening to make him lose his already tenuous
consciousness.
The Hellhound didn't need to be told twice before he approached the
machine gun. Athalar threw himself into the back seat, barely able to fit his
wings. And then Lidia sat in the driver's seat. A hard stomp on the pedals
when he engaged the gear and the car took off.
The multi-level garage was crammed with military vehicles.

Someone would see them, someone would come...
On a downward curve, Ruhn collided with the side panel, the impact
reverberating painfully through his body as Lidia let the car skid, skid—and
then accelerate, sending them flying down a ramp. Hunt chuckled, looking
impressed. But he stopped laughing the next moment.
It didn't take long for Ruhn to discover the reason. The guardhouse. There
were six guards around her: two angels and four wolves. They had heard the
car accelerate.
They barely had time to notice Baxian at the machine gun. They didn't
even manage to raise their rifles or summon their magic before the Hellhound
fired a hundred bullets. Taking into account the angle of the ramp they were
descending, they were well in their sights.
Blood sprayed in a mist as Lidia passed them, the car running over their
bodies with sickening thuds. She broke the barrier.
They burst into the sunlight, but it brought no relief. They were in the
middle of the city, surrounded by enemies. Ruhn couldn't breathe.
A voice sounded on the radio. Declan Emmet's voice.

— Daybright, are you listening?
Hot tears began to stream down Ruhn's face.
Lidia sped the car across the long, wide stone bridge between the palace
and the imposing iron gates at the end.
There was another ominous guardhouse just ahead.

“Listen, Emmet,” Lidia said into the radio, wincing as she had to take the
steering wheel with her bandaged arm. Whatever happened to her must have
been brutal if she was still in so much pain. Something in his chest tightened at
the thought. — We are approaching the bridge gates.
— Camera images are unstable. We lost sight of you in the elevator.

Everyone there? — Dec asked.
— Everyone here — said Lidia, looking at Ruhn.
“Good damn thing,” Dec replied, and Ruhn choked on a sob. Then Dec
said, “The camera is showing twelve guards at the gate. Don't stop, Daybright.
Go. I repeat, go, go, go.
They sped toward the guard post, heading straight for the line of soldiers
with guns pointed at them. They seemed insecure when they saw Doe driving
the car. Everyone knew that irritating her was synonymous with dying.
— Lidia — warned Baxian. There were too many to shoot at the same time
time, no matter how unsure they were about what to do.
Lidia shifted the jeep into higher gear.
The nearest soldier—an angel—catapulted himself into the sky, pointing his
rifle at them. Athalar's lightning flashed, in a feeble attempt to stop the falling
death.
But it was Baxian, firing the machine gun again, who took down the soldier.
The angel's wings spread as he fell, blood dripping in a ruby shower.
Lidia advanced into the fighting, ducking as bullets flew. They broke through
the barricade, the wood exploding, the crystal palace of the asteri looming
behind them, a grim reminder of what they had escaped.
And then they were past the gates, splinters of wood still falling into the jeep
as they headed down the nearest avenue. Emerging from a random alley, a
white van lined up with them, the door opening to reveal...
— Where the fuck is your hand? — Tristan Flynn shouted to Ruhn over the
gunfire, a rifle over his shoulder. He shot in the direction
behind them, again and again, and Baxian swung the machine gun back,
peppering the pursuing enemies with bullets.
Ruhn was crying his eyes out.
The van turned over.
— Shit! — Flynn shouted as he narrowly dodged a pedestrian, a draki

female who screamed, throwing herself back against the wall of a building.
The radio crackled again and a stranger's voice sounded.

— Daybright, free land in Meridan.
Another voice:
— Free land in Alcene.
Other:
— Ready in Ravilis.
And so on. Eleven locations in total.
Then a soft female voice said:
— This is Irithys speaking. Prepared to set the Eternal City on fire.
—What the fuck is going on, Lidia? asked Hunt, panting. They sped
through the city's narrow streets, the van with Flynn forming a line behind
them. Hunt grunted, “They're all Spine places.
Athalar was right: each city mentioned was an important

depot along the vital railway that held the imperial arms.
Lidia didn't take her eyes off the road as she picked up the radio.
— This is Daybright. Send everything to Hell, Irithys.
Ruhn knew that name. He remembered three elves who only a few
weeks ago had told Bryce that their queen, Irithys, would love to hear of
Lehabah's courage. The Fire Goblin Queen, who was missing. — That's it
— announced Irithys.
And as they made another sharp turn onto a wide street, Ruhn's body
yelping in pain as he collided with the car door again, an explosion erupted
on the other side of town. An explosion so big that only someone made of
fire could have caused it...
In the distance, another eruption sounded.
Ruhn could visualize it: a succession of orange and red explosions

rising across the continent. One warehouse after another, all exploding and
turning to ash. The Doe had destroyed Pangera's Spine with a fatal blow,
unleashed by the fire of the lost Goblin Queen.
Ruhn could not help but be struck by the symbolism of this, for the only
race of Vanir who had been at Athalar's side throughout the Fallen rebellion
had lit that fire. He caught a glimpse of Athalar's face—all the wonder, the
sadness, and the pride that shone there.
The entire earth seemed to be shaking from the impact of the explosions.
Lidia said: — We needed
a distraction. Ophion and Irithys offered us one.
And, in fact, no pedestrian or driver looked at either the jeep or the van
as they accelerated at full speed towards the city walls. All eyes turned
north to the train station.
Angels in imperial regalia flew there, blocking out the sun.

Sirens sounded.
Even though news of his escape had spread, the City
Eterna and all of Pangera had more important things to deal with.
— And Ophion needed a chance to survive — Lidia added. — As long
as the Spine remained intact, they would be unable to gain ground.
She had once told Ruhn that Ophion had been trying unsuccessfully to
blow up the Spine for years. She, however, had succeeded.
Somehow, she had done this... for all of them.
They turned onto an even larger avenue that led out
out of town, and Flynn's van pulled up alongside them again.
— Leave the highway to us. Go to the port! he shouted.
Lidia greeted the male and Flynn gave Ruhn a wink before the van pulled
away and the fae lord closed the door.
But ahead of them, at the gate that pierced the city walls, a light began
to flicker. An alarm sounding above another guardhouse.
From the huge stone arch, a metal grate began to descend, preparing
to seal off the city. Arrest those responsible for attacking the station inside
— or arrest them.
The guards, all wolves in imperial uniforms, turned toward them, and
Ruhn winced as Baxian fired before they could draw their weapons. People
screamed along the sidewalks, fleeing into buildings and hiding behind
parked cars.
— We won't make it — shouted Baxian as Lidia got up.

approached the guard post.
— Lidia — avisou Athalar.
— Get down! Lidia screamed, and Ruhn closed his eyes, sinking as the
grate lowered at an alarming rate. Metal screeched and exploded right
above them, the car rocking, shaking...
Even so, Lidia continued driving. She advanced to the

road beyond the city as the grate closed behind them.
— It was close, don't you think? — Hunt shouted to Lidia, and Ruhn
opened his eyes to discover that the machine gun had been ripped away.
Baxian clung to the back of the jeep with all his might, a maniacal smile on
his face.
They had succeeded and, with the city gates closed, all the cars that
patrolled on land had stayed inside. Exactly as Lidia should have planned.
“That was the easy part,” Lidia announced, louder than the sound of the
wind, and the jeep set off into the countryside, towards the olive groves and
rolling hills beyond.
Ruhn shifted from where he was leaning against the side panel. O
His wrist was bleeding—the wound had reopened.
Declan said over the
radio: — Get me to talk to him.
For an instant, Ruhn met Lidia's bright golden eyes. Then she held out
the radio to him. All Ruhn could do was hold the radio with his good hand.
And it was still good to be optimistic.
He no longer had nails.
“Hey, Dec,” he groaned.
Declan laughed loudly, as if holding back tears. — It's so fucking

good to hear your voice.
Ruhn closed his eyes tightly, feeling a lump in his throat.
- I love you. I knew that?
— You can talk again when I see you, in an hour. You have quite a journey
ahead of you. Put Daybright in line
new.
Ruhn handed the radio to Lidia silently, being careful not to touch her. To not
look at her.
“This is Daybright,” Lidia said, and Ruhn looked back. A column of smoke rose
from the part of the city where the glass domes of the train station once shone.
— Do you want the good news or the bad news first? — Dec asked over the
radio.
— The good ones.
— Most of the Imperial security forces are at the train station and the city is
closed. Irithys managed to escape... She disappeared into the field. Who knows
where he went.
— I gave instructions on where to go... what to do — Lidia explained, her voice
calm. But then he asked: — And what's the bad news?
— Mordoc and two dozen feral wolves also managed to exit through the
southwest gate before it closed. I think they found out you're heading to the coast.
— Shit — cursed Athalar from the back seat.

— And Flynn? asked Lidia.
— Flynn is after them. Mordoc and company are crossing this road you are
on. At that speed, they will reach you in ten minutes. Drive faster.
— I'm already at maximum speed.

—Then you'll have to find a way to get rid of them.
Cold ran through Ruhn's body, in no way related to the injuries or bleeding on
his arm. He dared to look at Lidia, to really look at her.
She stared at the road ahead. The wind made strands of her golden hair
come loose from the bun on top of her head. The expression on his face
made it clear that he was thinking.
Baxian said over the sound of the wind,
“They're going to station every guard from here to the coast to watch
the road.
And they had just lost the machine gun. Lidia picked up the holster on
her thigh and handed the gun to Athalar.
- That's all we have? — demanded Athalar, counting the bullets.
Ruhn didn't need to look to know there were no weapons around him.
enough to help them cope with the situation.
— If I had brought more, someone would have gotten suspicious —
Lidia replied coldly.
Declan's voice crackled over the
radio: "What's the plan, Daybright?"
Ruhn looked at her beautiful, perfect face. He observed the determination
that dominated his features: — Send the
boat to the coordinates we agreed on — he said.
she to Declan. — Prepare the hatch for an air landing.
The Autumn King spent the rest of the day holed up in his office, so Bryce
took the opportunity to poke around the place. First in the kitchen, which was
utilitarian enough to make it clear that it was built for a team of cooks. Luckily,
the fridge was stocked with freshly prepared food. She helped herself to
poached trout and herbed rice for lunch, along with a glass of the fanciest
champagne she could find—taken from a refrigerator in the enormous wine
cellar—and tried opening all the doors leading outside before settling for a
walk through the halls of the house.
He passed white columns and soaring atriums, floor-to-ceiling windows

and expertly hidden technological panels. She opened a few as she walked,
hoping to find something that would connect her with the outside world, but all
she had discovered so far were the controls for the underfloor heating, the
automatic blinds, and the air conditioning.
Bryce drank straight from the bottle as he wandered around the basement.
Gym, steam room, massage room and sauna occupied one of the wings. In
the other wing, he found an indoor pool, a projection room, and what appeared
to be the Autumn King's security HQ.
All computers and cameras were dark and locked. He couldn't activate
them, no matter how hard he tried.
He had thought of everything.
Cursing him to the darkest of Hells, she wandered through the ground
floor: a formal living room, the dining room, his study—doors closed in a
silent message not to—the kitchen again, a parlor and a games room
dare to enter
complete with pool and shuffleboard tables.
None of the televisions worked. All I had to do was check to notice that
the cables were missing. Also found no interweb routers.
Bryce tried not to imagine his mother there, young and innocent and gullible.
Upstairs, the doors were left open to reveal several guest rooms, all as
pretty and dull as hers. One wing was locked; It was certainly his father's
private suite.
However, the double doors at the end of the other wing had not been
locked. When he opened it, he smelled a familiar aroma that made his
chest tighten.
spirit
Rock band posters still hung on the walls. The huge four-poster bed
with black silk sheets was the only sign of princely wealth. Everything else
exuded the rebelliousness of youth: ticket stubs taped to the mirror, a
record of every show he'd ever been to. A closet full of black shirts, jeans
and boots, mixed with discarded knives and swords.
It was a time capsule, frozen shortly before Ruhn returned from Avallen
after enduring his Ordeal and emerging victorious, with the Aster. Had he
even returned there or found a new place to live, knowing that, with the
sword, he had a certain advantage over his father?
Or maybe things wouldn't have turned out that way. It is possible that
the Autumnal King expelled him, out of pure envy and bitterness towards
Aster. Or maybe Ruhn had left suddenly one day.
He had never asked Ruhn about this. I hadn't asked so many things.
She opened the desk drawers by the window and discovered a lighter,
various drug paraphernalia, chewed-up cheap pens, and...
His chest tightened as he pulled out the tube of silver nitrate balm.
Good stuff, made by medwitches, to treat burns. He squeezed the plastic
so hard it creaked.
He carefully placed it back in the drawer and sank onto Ruhn's bed. The
Gorsian shackles on his wrists glowed faintly in the dim light.
Ruhn had managed to get out of that place of so much bitterness, and
she was happy for that. He silently prayed to Cthona that one day he
would have the opportunity to say this to his brother.
But at that moment, I was alone. And it was only a matter of time
before the Autumn King's patience ran out.
***
What the Doe had done bordered on a miracle. Declan, Flynn, and Ophion
had helped, but Hunt knew the female driving the car had orchestrated
everything.
Somehow, she had found Irithys, Queen of the Fire Goblins, and
convinced her to be the spark that would start this massive, unprecedented
attack. For the Fallen, for the elves who had become Lesser by standing
with them—the least of the Vanir, the outcasts—that blow had been for
them. A blow delivered by the person of greatest importance to those
looking for a sign.
Irithys was not just free in the world. She was attacking.
Hunt shook his head in wonder and looked at Ruhn,
leaning against the passenger door.
The attack had been by the rebellion, Hunt knew, but the escape... the escape
it had been because of Ruhn.
— What do you mean by air landing? — Baxian wanted to know,
panting.
Lidia turned off the paved road and followed a dirt road that wound
between the dry hills, towards the mountains.
close to the coast. The vehicle shook and shook on the dusty ground, and each of
Hunt's wounds throbbed. Ruhn groaned.
Lidia didn't respond and pushed the car to the limit, up and around the hills,
through the patchy shade of the olive trees that flanked the road, the hot, dry wind
blowing in their faces.
Without warning, Lidia hit the brakes and the car skidded on the loose gravel.
Hunt hit the back of the driver's seat, wincing from the impact.
“Shit,” Lidia hissed through the swirl of dust. — Shit.
The dust settled enough for Hunt to finally see what had caused the sudden
stop. A few meters ahead, the road had ended. A dense grove of olive trees blocked
the path, too thick for it to be possible to attempt to pass by.
car.
“Lidia,” Baxian said urgently, and she shifted in her seat, looking at them.
“I was hoping this road would take us closer to the water,” she said, breathless
for the first time since Hunt had met her. She looked over her shoulder, at Hunt and
then at Baxian. — You're going to have to fly from here.
- What? — Ruhn exclaimed, trying to get up from where he had been thrown
against the passenger door.
But Lidia got out of the car without opening the door. His eyes were fierce as he
asked Hunt and Baxian, opening the trunk of the car.
— Do you think you can fly?
Hunt managed to get out of the backseat and stand, his head spinning with pain
and exhaustion. With his hand resting on the side of the car, he spread his newly
formed wings.
Pain shot through his back, sharp and deep. Gritting his teeth, Hunt moved his
wings. Made them hit. Once, twice. His beats stirred the dirt and dust into clouds
that gathered at his feet.
— Yes — he said, his voice hoarse, fighting the agonizing pain — I think so.
On the other side of the jeep, Baxian was doing the same, his black wings
covered in dust. The Hellhound nodded.
Lidia ran to the passenger door, dirt crunching beneath her boots, and
opened it. Ruhn almost fell to the ground at her feet, but she caught him with
her uninjured arm. He dragged him over to Hunt, earning an irritated look from
the fae prince as he struggled to regain his balance. Lidia didn't even look at
Ruhn when she ordered Hunt and Baxian:
— Carry him between you. The Freighter of the Deep is waiting.
Hunt blinked, coming over to help Ruhn to his feet. The pain shot through
him again due to the effort.
- And you? Baxian demanded, limping to the other side of Ruhn.
Its dark wings trailed the earth.
Lidia raised her chin. Sunlight glinted off the silver of his
torque while doing so.
— I'm the big prize. Mordoc will come after me. This way you save time.
“I can carry you,” Baxian insisted, slipping an arm under Ruhn's shoulders.
Hunt could have breathed a sigh of relief at having the burden lifted.
Ruhn said nothing. He didn't even move as Baxian and Hunt held him
upright.
Lidia shook her head at the Hellhound.
— You are both on the verge of death. Take Ruhn and get out.
— His expression left no room for arguments. — Now — she ordered and, it
seemed, the conversation had come to an end, because she transformed.
Hunt had never seen Lidia in her deer form. She was beautiful—hair so
pale gold it was almost white. Golden eyes were framed by thick, dark lashes.
A darker golden streak appeared between his eyes as if it had been licked by
flames.
Lidia, however, had eyes only for Ruhn. Just for him.
Swaying between Hunt and Baxian, Ruhn stared back.
Still not saying anything.
The world seemed to hold its breath as the elegant doe walked up to
Ruhn and gently, full of love, stroked his neck.
Ruhn didn't even move. He didn't even blink when Lidia walked away,
those golden eyes remaining on his face — just for a moment longer.
Then she leaped into the trees, like a ray of sunshine that was
there and then it was gone.
As if she had never existed.
***
Ruhn scanned the forest where Lidia had disappeared and put his hand
to his neck. The skin there was warm, as if her touch had lingered.
“Right,” Athalar growled, reaching down to reach Ruhn's legs. — On

three. Baxian squeezed Ruhn's shoulders tighter.
He flapped his wings and Ruhn moved with them.

“Lidia,” he whispered.
But Athalar and Baxian leapt into the sky, both males groaning in
agony, the world tilting. And then they were flying, Athalar holding Ruhn's
legs, Baxian on his shoulders.
Ruhn was hanging like a sack of potatoes. I felt my stomach turn

when I saw how far they were from the dry ground below. The mountain
rising before them. The bright blue sea stretching beyond.
Behind them, darting between the olive trees like lightning, ran
that beautiful almost white animal. A doe.
To get to the sea, she would have to go through the mountainous
forests and then climb the rocky mountain.
Was it possible to go down the other side? She had mentioned an air
landing when talking to Dec. Not a sea rescue. Or
land.
Lidia wouldn't come.
Understanding ran through Ruhn like a death sentence.

“Ah, shit,” Athalar swore, and Ruhn followed the direction of the angel's
gaze behind them.
Around two dozen feral wolves flowed like ants through the forest.
Everyone was heading straight for the deer.
A wolf larger than the others led the pack — Mordoc.
Quickly approaching Lidia, who was losing ground because of the hills.
—Stop! — asked Ruhn, hoarsely. — We need to go back.

— No — said Athalar coldly, tightening his grip on his legs.
by Ruhn.
Which was faster: a deer or a wolf?
If they reached her, it would all be over. Lidia knew this and still left.
“Put me down,” ordered Ruhn, but the malakim stopped him.

He held on tight, so hard that he felt the weight on his body.
The wolves closed the distance, as if the hills meant nothing to them. But
Athalar and Baxian had caught an air current and were flying fast enough for
Lidia to shrink further and further into the distance...
— PUT ME DOWN! — Ruhn roared, or tried to. Your voice,

Hoarse from shouting, it was barely above a whisper.
“Air legion coming from the east,” Baxian announced to Hunt.
Ruhn looked up, following Athalar's line of vision. And like a swarm of
locusts, the soldiers advanced toward them.
“Sons of bitches,” Athalar hissed, his wings beating faster.

Baxian kept pace as they dove toward the
mar.
Further away from Lidia, who was approaching the top of the imposing
mountain. It was the last glimpse Ruhn got of her as they flew over the barren
peak.
The open ocean stretched out before them. Ruhn squirmed,
trying to keep an eye on Lidia.
He felt his stomach turn.
As if Ogenas herself had cut it in half, the mountainside facing

the sea had been split. There was nothing waiting for Lidia but a
direct, lethal dive into the water hundreds of feet below.
Hunt blocked Ruhn's shouting and swearing from his mind. He knew he
would be in the same state if it were Bryce here, being cornered by two
dozen feral wolves. It had made those same sounds once, long ago—
when Shahar and Sandriel fell toward the earth, Shahar's blood dripping...
The glare of the sun on the sea made his head throb. Or maybe it was
his injuries and his exhaustion. Every time he flapped his wings, a new
wave of pain echoed through his body, threatening to take his breath away.
But he welcomed the pain in his heart, embraced it. He deserved to feel
every sting of her.
But there, emerging from the water like a breaching whale...
A shiny metal hatch appeared on the surface. Then a person burst in,
waving frantically. And Hunt could only wonder if he was hallucinating
when he realized it was Tharion signaling to them, urging them on from
the narrow outer deck atop the Deep Freighter.
Hunt and Baxian dived, and Ketos leapt to the bow of the mighty ship,
shouting something carried away by the wind.
Towards the coast, the angels gained speed, approaching. The cool
foam of the waves lapped against Hunt's body, the salt making his open
wounds burn. The last three meters left until
landing on the ship's sodden metal were traversed in the midst of a fall.
Tharion ran, haste evident on his face.

— I said land on the hatch! — shouted the merman.
Hunt gritted his teeth, but Ruhn stood, staggering and coming
dangerously close to falling into the water: —
Lidia — he said breathlessly to Tharion, pointing to the cliffs. He
staggered again and Tharion caught him. Ruhn grabbed the merman's
muscular forearm with his hand. Tharion's eyes fell on where the prince's
hand would be, making the merman pale.
But Ruhn growled,

“You have to help her.”
— The ship cannot come any closer to the coast — said Tharion,
placatingly.
— Not the ship — replied Ruhn with a surprising threat.
—,
Hunt looked up at the mountain, at the cliff looming like a giant on
the distant shore.
— Ruhn, even if Lidia manages to reach the mountain peak... that fall
is deadly.
It would shatter as soon as it touched the surface of the water.
“Please,” Ruhn begged, his voice breaking as he
He examined Tharion's face.
The merman looked at Hunt. Then to Baxian. He seemed to realize
that they were no longer able to fly even a meter.
Tharion sighed, but said: — Far

be it from me to give up the opportunity to act like a hero. — The
merman passed the prince to Baxian and took off his clothes. Not at all
concerned about the fact that he was naked, he leaped into the cobalt
waves and, a second later, his enormous tail broke the surface. He didn't
look back before disappearing into the water, a flash of orange amidst
the blue.
Baxian began to mutter a prayer to Ogenas. Hunt had no option but
to join him.
Maybe that was his fault too. If I had stopped Bryce, stopped the others
from going against the Asteri... none of them would be in this situation.
None of this would have happened.
But Ruhn remained silent. Eyes fixed on the beach, face pale as death.
As if he could see all the way to the shapeshifter on the cliffs, running for
her life.
***
Lidia's lungs burned with each breath.

With each galloping step up, there is nothing but dry, treacherous rocks
and snaking roots beneath. So many roots, all determined to trip her over
their delicate hooves.
That wasn't in the plans. She had been a fool to choose that road
without knowing where it would lead, without knowing that she would be
stuck in the arid foothills with a mountain to climb.
But Ruhn and the angels had succeeded. They would already be on
the ship by then.
Irithys had managed to escape to do what needed to be done. At least
she hadn't been wrong in trusting the queen. At least that part had worked.
Growls echoed in the woods behind her, and Lidia recognized them all.
You feral wolves. Your soldiers. The deepest growl,

terribly close to her, it was Mordoc's.
Lidia forced herself to run faster, to gain more speed.
He found a zigzag trail—a deer trail, how ironic—up the mountain. A legion
of angels loomed like clouds in the sky.
She had to get to the water. If he could reach the sea, he might have a
chance to swim to the ship.
A bush moved to her left and Lidia leaped toward a rock just as Mordoc
burst through the brush and trees, jaws clicking.
He couldn't bite her by inches.

Mordoc hit the rock and jumped again. Soon he would pass the rock and be
able to reach it. Right behind him were Vespasian and Gegred, his favorite torturers
and hunters...her favorite torturers and hunters. Foam dripped from their jaws as
they climbed the rocks.
Lidia jumped again, climbing the rock until she reached the top. The wolves
couldn't jump that far, but she didn't wait to see what they would do as she ran
across the wide rock and then climbed higher.
once.
Branches and thorns tore his fur, his legs.
The smell of his own blood filled his nose, coppery and thick. Hooves slipped
on the loose rocks, the sound like crunching bones. There had to be some path
around the side of the mountain, some way to go around it and down the other side
to the water below...
There. Another four hundred meters. A ledge that went around the mountain.
She dove forward and the growls behind her came closer again. She had to get to
the edge. I had to get to the water.
He couldn't cry in that body, but he almost did when he finally reached the
curve around the mountain. As the edge projected before her.
Like a long finger, it extended high above the sea that swayed one hundred
and fifty meters below. The rest of the mountain was a steep cliff.
There was no other way down. And there would be no way back.
From the way his hooves dug into the stone, he realized that the rock was
some kind of soft material that would disintegrate in his hands if he tried to climb
down the cliff in humanoid form. That is, if Mordoc and the others didn't shoot her
first.
Mordoc's cruel growl sounded behind her, and Lidia looked back just as he
assumed human form. The wolves behind him did the same.
Then Lidia also changed into her humanoid form.

Panting, refocusing her senses on this body, she took a step back toward the edge.
Vespasian, on Mordoc's left, drew a shotgun and aimed it at her.
"That sounds familiar," breathed Mordoc, a wild gleam in his eyes. —What
did you say to that thunderbird bitch?
Lidia took another step back, while Gedred also drew and aimed his rifle.
Mordoc spat on the dry ground and then wiped his mouth with the back of
his hand.
— Are you faster than a speeding bullet? That's what you asked Sofie
Renast that night. — His captain laughed, showing oversized teeth. — Let's
see, Lidia. Let's see how fast you are now, you fucking traitor.
Lidia's gaze darted between Vespasian and Gegred. He found no mercy

on their faces. Nothing but hate and anger.
They were feral wolves led by a deer. And she had betrayed them.
Then they would make her pay for it.
The shots were not meant to kill her. They would shoot some of her limbs,
like she had done to Sofie Renast, so they could drag her back to the asteri
and make mincemeat of her. Whether it was them or Pollux.
The shouts of the aerial legion approached from above. Pollux

would you be with them? Leading the swarm of angels to capture her?
Death was behind her, at the end of the cliff's edge. One
quick and merciful death.
The kind the Asteri wouldn't offer her. If I could get
at the end of the cliff... it would be quick.
She would fall and her head would smash on the rocks, and she probably
wouldn't feel much. Maybe a quick burst of pain, then nothing.
Even if he never saw the fruits of what he had fought for, for which he had
hoped.
Lidia pushed those thoughts away. As he always did.
Gedred knelt, the shotgun resting on one shoulder.
Ready to shoot.
Then Lidia reached for the silver choker around

of the neck. It came loose with a flick of his fingers.
— Since we're reliving the past, I think I should say what Sofie said
to me that night. — She threw the choker on the floor, that hateful collar,
and smiled at Mordoc, at the feral wolves. - Go to hell.
And he started running. Faster than he had ever run in this human
form, hurtling towards the edge of the cliff. Two bullets came close to
hitting her heels and she dodged to the side, easily dodging the third.
He had taught these feral wolves everything they knew. Now I would use that
against them.
— Hit this bitch! shouted Mordoc to his shooters.
Lidia's life was diluted with each step. With each movement of the
arms. Bullets scattered rocks and shrapnel at their feet. There were only
a few steps left.
— FINISH HER! Mordoc roared.
But the edge of the cliff was already there—and so she jumped.
Lidia sobbed as she jumped, as the open air embraced her. As rocks
and waves surged below.
For a moment, she thought the water might be rising to meet her.
But it was her. Falling down.
A shot cracked like thunder. Pain erupted in his

chest, bones breaking, red dots in his vision.
Lidia gave a broken, bloody laugh as she died.
Jesiba Roga quickly got Ithan out of the bar when he revealed who
he wanted to rise from the dead. He found himself taken to an office
—her office, it seemed—crammed with crates and boxes of what
must have been relics of her business.
She pushed him onto a chair in front of a huge black table, sat on
the other side in a white velvet armchair and ordered him to tell her
everything.
Ithan did. He needed her help and he knew he wouldn't get it if
he wasn't sincere.
When he finished, Roga leaned back in his chair, the dim golden
light from the table lamp illuminating his short, platinum hair.
— Well, that wasn't the direction I thought my night was going to

take — commented the sorceress, rubbing her well-groomed
eyebrows. On the built-in bookshelf behind her were three glass
terrariums filled with various small creatures. Were they people she
had transformed into animals? For their sake, Ithan hoped not.
But maybe she could turn him into a worm and step on him.
That would be a coup de grace.
Jesiba's eyes shone, as if she could feel what was going on in his
head. But she said, in a calm voice:
—So you want a necromancer to resurrect this Sigrid Fendyr.
— It wasn't that long ago — Ithan explained — her body must still be fresh
enough to...
— I don't need a wolf to teach me the rules of necromancy.
— Please — Ithan begged, his voice hoarse. — Look, I... messed up.
- He did? — A cold and curious question.

He swallowed, his throat already scratchy as he nodded.
— I should have rescued her... and she would make the Fendyr better,
save them all.
Roga crossed his arms.
- Than?
— From Sabine. Of the wolves that became so dark...
— As I recall, it was wolves that ran into the Asphodel Meadows this
spring.
— Sabine refused to let us go.
— You challenged her and you did it anyway. The others followed you.
— I'm not here to debate wolf politics.
— But that's politics. You resurrect Sigrid and... and then? Already
Did you stop to think about it?
Ithan growled:
— I need to fix this.
—And you think a necromancer will solve this problem.
He showed his teeth.
— I know what you're thinking...
— You don't even know what you're thinking, Ithan Holstrom.
- Do not talk to me like that...
She raised a finger.
— Remember that you are in my House and asking me for a favor of
colossal proportions. He came uninvited, which in itself is a violation of our
rules. So unless you want me to hand you over to the vampires, to be sucked
up and left to rot on the docks, I suggest you watch your words, doggy.
Ithan glared at her, but closed his mouth.

Roga gave a discreet smile.
- Good boy.
Ithan tried not to growl. She smiled even more when she realized this.
But after a moment, she asked, "Where's
Quinlan?"
- I don't know.
Roga nodded to herself.
— I don't do anything for free, you know.
He returned her gaze, letting her see that he would do whatever she
wanted. Roga pursed his lips in disgust as he noticed his desperation.
Ithan didn't care.
“Most necromancers,” she added, “are some
arrogant idiots who will mess with you.
“How wonderful,” he murmured.
—But I know someone who can be trusted.
- Say your price. And that of the person.
— I already told you: I need a competent assistant. As I recall, you
majored in History at UCLC. — At his questioning look, she explained: —
Quinlan used to go on and on about how proud he was of you. — His chest
tightened too much. Roga rolled his eyes, either at the words he had
uttered or whatever he saw on Ithan's face, then pointed to the crates and
boxes around him. — As you can see, I have goods that need to be sorted
and shipped.
Ithan blinked slowly.

— I mean... I work for you and then you're going to put me
in contact with the necromancer?
She lowered her chin slightly.
— But I need this to be done now — he complained — while her body
is still fresh...
“I will see to it that the body is transported from where the Viper Queen
threw it and kept… on ice, so to speak.” Safe and sound. Until the
necromancer is available.
— And how long will this game take?
Her lips curved.
— Why all this rush?
He couldn't respond. I didn't think saying The weight of my own guilt is

killing me and I can't take it another moment would make any difference to
her.
— Let's start with a few days, Holstrom. A few honest days of work...
and we'll assess whether you were good enough to deserve the help you
seek.
— I could leave here and ask the nearest necromancer...
— You could, but vampires can take a cone before that. Or you might
ask the wrong necromancer and end up... unsatisfied.
Jesiba opened her laptop. She entered the password and said, without taking her
eyes off the screen:
— That huge box marked Lasivus needs to be unpacked and catalogued.
There's an extra laptop on that sideboard over there. The password is
GeleiaGeladinha. Both words with the first letter capitalized, without spaces.
Don't look at me like that, Holstrom. The password came out of Quinlan's
head.
Ithan blinked again. But he got up slowly. He walked to the box. He bared
his claws and, using them instead of a crowbar, ripped off the lid of the box,
which fell to the carpeted floor with a dull thud and a cloud of dust.
“If you break something, Holstrom,” the witch said.

slowly from his desk as he typed — he'll have to pay.
That's a beautiful understatement.
***
Bryce didn't see the Autumn King for the rest of the day. She went to find
something for dinner in the kitchen so she wouldn't have to endure another
meal and a game of questions with him.
He was carrying the plate to his room when his captor appeared at the
top of the stairs.
— I was looking for you.
Bryce lifted his plate and the ham and butter sandwich that was on top
of it.
— And I wanted to eat. Goodbye.

The Autumn King remained in her path as she climbed the stone steps.
- I want to talk to you.

She looked at him, hating that he was taller than her. But she managed to
give him a look of contempt—a look that was quite effective in irritating Hunt
when they first met. And, against his will and despite everything that had
happened between them, he asked: — Why didn't you empty Ruhn's old room?
He tilted his head. It was obvious that I wasn't expecting that

question.
— And why would I do something like that?
— It seems a bit sentimental of you.
— I have ten other rooms in this house. If I ever need it, I'll clean it up.
—That's not an answer.

— Are you looking for a specific answer?
She opened her mouth to respond, but closed it again. He examined it
coldly.
He said quietly:
— Come on, ask.
— Have you ever stopped to think? — she blurted out. —What could have
happened if you hadn't sent your henchmen to hunt us down, or thrown me
out on the street when I was thirteen?
A flash passed through his eyes.
- Every single day.
- Then why? — Her voice broke. — You hit her, and then you felt bad
about it... you still feel bad. Still, you chased us and almost killed her in the
process. And when I showed up, years later, he was nice to me for a couple
of days before kicking me out.
— I don't owe you any satisfaction.
She shook her head, disgust making her lose whatever appetite she had
left.
— I don't understand this... I don't understand you.
— What is there to understand? I am a king. Kings don't need to explain

themselves.
— Parents need it.
— I thought you wanted nothing to do with me.
— And that hasn't changed. But damn, why not be a nice person?
He looked at her for a long, unbearable moment, with the expression she
knew he often wore on his own face. The expression she inherited from him,
cold and merciless.
He said:
— And here I was, thinking that you saw Randall Silago as a real father
and that you didn't need me.
She almost dropped the plate.
— Are you… are you jealous of Randall?
There was no expression on his face, but his voice was hoarse as he
said:
— In the end, he was the one who stayed with your mother. And he could create you.
—That almost sounds like regret.
— I told you, I live with this regret every day. — He examined her, the
plate of food in her hands. — But who knows, maybe one day we can
overcome this. — After a moment, he added, — Bryce.
I didn't know what to feel, or think, when he said your name.

Without the surname attached, without any kind of mockery. But she cleared
her throat and replied:
— Help me find a way to get Hunt and Ruhn out of the Asteri dungeons,
and then we can talk about you becoming a better father. — She said the
last words as she walked past him, heading towards the bedroom. As much
as he had lost his hunger, he needed to distance himself from him a little, he
needed to think...
Her father called

to her: — Who said Athalar and Ruhn are still in the dungeons? They
haven't been there since this morning.
Bryce stopped and turned slowly.
- Where are they? — Her voice was breaking, low. As she knew
what happened to her father when he was angry.
But he just crossed his arms, smug as a cat.
— That's the big question, isn't it? They escaped. Disappeared in
sea, if the rumors are true.
Bryce let the words sink in.
— You... you let me think they were in the dungeons.
Since I knew, all this time, that they were free.
— They were in the dungeons when you arrived. This fact has only
changed now.
— Did you know this was going to happen? — An intense, blinding
fury dominated her head, her eyes. As much as part of her wondered if
he also needed some distance after the conversation they had, and that
revealing that truth... was the most efficient way to push her away again.
— I answered your questions, as you had stipulated. You asked

where the asteri had taken them after they found them. I said the truth.
You didn't ask me for updates today, so...
In a second, the plate and sandwich were in her hands. In the next
second, they were thrown into the air, towards his head.
— You asshole.
The father destroyed the plate and the food with a wall of fire.
Ashes from toasted bread and burnt hams fell to the floor among shards
of broken pottery.
— What a tantrum — he provoked, analyzing the mess on the carpet
— coming from someone who just found out that his brother and partner
are free.
“How about this,” Bryce said angrily, hating the Gorsian cuffs on her
wrists more than ever, “you let go of me right now, and I throw that pile
of shit that is you right through the portal that leads to the original world
of the fae. You can go pack your bags.
He laughed.
— You will take me to that fae world, whether I let you go or not. AND
- And even?
— I heard your mother and Randall adopted a son. He would be
It would be a shame if something happened to the boy.
She rolled her eyes.
— There's no point in coming to cry when my mom and Randall beat you up.
They've done this before... I'm sure they'll be happy to remind you of what they're
capable of.
— Oh, I wouldn't go to their door myself — he smiled, confidently. — Just get
Rigelus' ears, let's say, that his parents shelter a rebellious boy...
Bryce rolled his eyes again.

— Did you take a class or something at school? Introduction to Villainy? Get
real fucking real. You won't conquer any world.
— If you open a door between the worlds at my request,

Rigelus may be grateful enough to grant me some of it.
Bryce looked at the shards of the broken plate. Sharp enough to cut his throat.
Her father gave her a condescending smile, as if he knew what she was thinking.
His father was neither for or against the Asteri. He was nothing more than an
opportunist. If I had more power if they fell out, I would fight against them. If it were
more profitable to bow before the asteri, he would prostrate himself before their
crystal thrones. Despite all the talk about helping the fae, he didn't think about
anything other than himself.
success.
She said firmly:
— You are already king here.
— From a continent. What is this when you can have an entire planet?
— You know, you may not be the Starry Chosen One, but I think, out of all of
us, you have the most in common with Theia. She thought in that same horrible
way. But he discovered too late that Rigelus isn't a fan of sharing anything.
— With the knife you brought in play, he might be willing to negotiate.

Bryce looked at him blankly.

—What makes you think those blades will have any effect against him?
—When joined together, these blades could be the end of him.

— Believe me, I tried that on an asteri and it didn't do anything. For the
least not before Nesta's interference.
If he was shocked by her revelation, he didn't show it.
— Did you order them to work? — It's kind
of hard to order, you asshole, when I have no idea what
that they are capable of doing.
“Open a portal to nowhere,” said the Autumn King, the flame crackling in
his eyes.
- What does that mean? — demanded Bryce.
— The Aster is Made, as you called it. He waved his hand absently,
sparks at his fingertips. — The knife can Undo things. Done and Undone.
Matter and antimatter. With the right influx of power, a command from the
one destined to wield them, they can be fused. And they can create a place
where there is no life or light. A place that is nothing. Nowhere.
Her knees shook.

— That's not... that's not possible.
- And yes. I read about this in the Avallen Archives ages ago.
— So how do I do this? Just say “get together nowhere” and voila?
“I don't know,” he admitted. — My research has not revealed instructions

for fusing the blades. Just what they were capable of doing.
Bryce looked at the male before her for a long moment.
She glanced up the steps to the lower level, toward his office.
— I want to see this research with my own eyes.

— It's in Avallen, and females are not allowed beyond the archives lobby.
— Oh, of course, we could easily spread menstruation across the pages

of books.
His lips curved.
— Maybe it was lucky that you found a way to escape the

engagement to Cormac. Such rudeness would not be tolerated in Avallen.
— Oh, they would be affectionate with me as soon as they saw me
shaking the Aster and remembering who and what I am.
—That would be an affront in itself. No female has ever possessed the
blade.
- What? — Her laugh echoed off the stone walls. — Are you telling me
that in fifteen thousand years, only males have been able to claim this here?
— Since females are not allowed in the Cave of the Princes, they did not
have the opportunity to try to claim it, even if they had starlight in their veins.
Bryce gaped.
— You have to be kidding me. Did they ban females from the Cave of the
Princes to prevent us from getting our hands on swords?
His silence was all the answer she needed.

She replied:
— I'm pretty sure there are rules, even in this
shitty empire, against treating females like that.
—Avallen has long been left to rule herself,
its policies hidden from the modern world behind the mist.
—But there is information, somewhere in Avallen, about what these
blades can do.
— Yes, but you need to be invited to go through the mist. AND
Considering how your relationship with Morven is going...
She would never enter. Not without the help of the male in front of him.
Bryce's head seemed to spin, and for a second, everything he had done
and had yet to do weighed so heavily on his shoulders that he could barely
breathe.
— I need to go to bed — he said hoarsely.
The Autumn King didn't stop her as she headed towards the room. As if
he knew he had won.
She walked silently down the hall, her footsteps muffled by the stone.
But not to her room. Instead, he went to Ruhn's room, where he

collapsed on the bed. He spent a long time without moving.
Ruhn's life turned into beeping machines, flickering monitors and an

uncomfortable vinyl chair that served as both a seat and a bed.
Technically he had a bed, but it was too far from that room. A few
times, Flynn and Dec would come and sedate him and drag him
there for restorative treatment, considering his hand was still
recovering.
The fingers had already formed again, but they were pale and
weak. The medwitches had a small supply of primalux potions—a
rarity on a ship where primalux was banned, leaving them to rely on
some kind of enhanced bioluminescence to illuminate everything—
but Ruhn had refused the potions. He had demanded that they give
every last drop to Lidia. I would let my hand heal the old fashioned
way. Whether he and Baxian would ever overcome the ordeal that
had led to their hand being chewed off was another story.
But one he would deal with later.

“Get some sleep,” Flynn said from the doorway, a cup of what
smelled like coffee in his hand. The friend nodded to the bed, the
wires and machines before Ruhn. — I can keep watch.
“I'm fine,” Ruhn replied, his voice hoarse. He had barely spoken
since the day before. I didn't want to talk to anyone. Not even Flynn
and Dec, even if they had gone after him. That they had saved him.
All because of the female before him.

While they were rebuilding what was left of her body, Lidia almost
died twice. Even with the primalux potion healing the wounds of the
heart. Both times, Ruhn had been sleeping in his bed, on the other
side of the damned ship.
So he stopped leaving this room.
If there was anything left of Lidia, it was thanks to Tharion, who
had thrown a cushioning column of water and protected her from the
full impact as she landed on the rocks - but the merman was still too
far away to completely prevent her from suffering the impact of the
fall. .
But it didn't matter, because they had already punched a fist-sized
hole in her heart.
The hole was gone, healed thanks to that rare and precious
primalux potion. And her heart was working again, if the monitor
marking each beat was any indication. Lungs: repaired.
Ribs: reconstructed. Cracked Skull: Patched. Brain stuck back in
place.
Ruhn couldn't stop visualizing. The state of Lidia's body when
Tharion pulled her into the Deep Freighter. The soft body. So small.
He had never realized how much smaller she was than him.
Or what the world would be like without her.

Because Lidia had died. When Tharion carried her from the shore,
she was beyond dead. Even his Vanir healing abilities were past their
prime.
Something broke in Ruhn when he saw that. A part of him that
neither Pollux, nor the Falcon nor the Asteri dungeon could reach.
Then the ship's medwitches emptied their stocks of primalux

potion on Lidia. Athalar used his lightning to make her heart race,
because even liquid miracles were not
enough to make him crash. Athalar's lightning had been necessary

three times already, because the emergency cart took too long to start
when his heart stopped working.
When Ruhn asked how he knew this would work, the angel mumbled
something about thanking Rigelus for the idea and left it at that. Ruhn
had been too relieved by the sound of Lidia's heartbeat to ask further.
— Ruhn, man... you need to sleep. — Flynn finally entered the room,
sitting in the chair next to his. — If she gets up, I'll call you. If she moves,
I'll call you.
Ruhn just stared at the terribly pale female in the room.
bed.
— Spirit.
“The last thing I told her,” Ruhn whispered, “was that she
was dead to me.
Flynn sighed.
— I'm sure she knew you weren't serious.
— I was serious.
The friend swallowed.
— I didn't know things between you two had gotten so... intense.
“Still, she did all this to save me,” he said,

ignoring Flynn's silent request to update him.
He would be eaten alive by guilt. She had done horrible things as
Doe, before and after becoming Daybright, things he couldn't forget,
but... His head wouldn't stop spinning. Of anger, of guilt and that other
thing.
Flynn squeezed his shoulder.
— Go to sleep, Ruhn. I'll take care of your girl.
She wasn't his girl. It wasn't his at all.
Still, he continued to ignore Flynn. He didn't move from his chair,
although he closed his eyes. He focused on his breathing until sleep
came.
“Stubborn idiot,” Flynn muttered, but covered him with a blanket
anyway.
Day, Ruhn said to the void between them, as he had done almost
every hour since. Day... can you hear me?
No answer.
Lidia.
He had never called her by her name before. Not even there.
He tried again, calling the name into the void, like a plea.
Lidia.
But the darkness only howled in response.
***
"So," Hunt said to Tharion as they sat in the Deep Freighter's empty
mess hall, "the Viper Queen, huh?"
Tharion nibbled on his poached fish and salted seaweed
cut into thin strips.
— Let's not get into that, Athalar. — They had missed lunch, but
got some leftovers from the cooks.
- Fair. — Hunt flexed his wings, now back to their usual strength,
thanks to the primalux that Lidia had managed to give him through
some machination of hers. — Thank you for coming to get us.
Tharion looked up—dark, empty.
Hunt knew that feeling well. He was trying not to feel this way
every second of every minute. Now that he and his friends were there,
safe and sound, without physical torture as a distraction, he was
drowning in that feeling.
“Holstrom said we're a pack,” Tharion said. — I don't really like this
canine comparison, but I like the idea it expresses. As soon as Lidia
told us there were days left before they executed you... we had to do
whatever was necessary. - More or less. It wasn't that easy, of course,
but after leaving the Meat Market, he went all out.
Hunt had received a summary of everything that had happened.

Or at least part of it. Considering that Lidia remained unconscious, he
still had no idea what she had done to organize things.
It was all so unlikely, so impossible.

He had woken up the night before, drenched in sweat, convinced he was

back in those dungeons. It was necessary to turn on the lights to accept that I
was somewhere else. Those initial seconds in total darkness, when I didn't
know where I was, had been unbearable.
He wished Bryce was with him. Not just to sleep next to him and remind
him that he had managed to escape, but... because he needed his best friend.
However, Bryce wasn't there. And this fact also made him wake up from
his sleep. Dreams in which she fell through space, alone and lost forever.
Tharion seemed to sense the change in his thoughts, because he asked

softly, "How are you,
Athalar?"
“The wings are back to normal,” Hunt said, folding them firmly behind him.
— Emotionally...? — He shrugged.
He had sat in the shower for an hour the night before, the water almost
scalding as it rinsed away the dirt and blood from the dungeon. As he had
done in those days before Bryce, he had let the water wash away the filth and
darkness in him. But there was one mark that could not be removed.
Tharion looked at Hunt's forehead.

— They're monsters for doing this to you again. — Burning anger was
stamped on the merman's features.
—They're monsters regardless of whether they put the halo back on me.
— Hunt lifted his wrist, exposing the mark. The OC that was stamped there,
denying this, had disappeared. — Do you think a slave can still be a prince?
— I'm sure those idiot fae have some regulations that prohibit that —
Tharion said with a wry smile — but if there's anyone who could get around
them, it's Bryce.
Hunt suppressed the pain in his chest. I couldn't bear to imagine the
expression of sadness and anger that would appear on her face when she
saw the halo, the mark. If she ever came back.
That last thought was more unbearable than any

other.
Hunt forced himself past it and asked Tharion, "How are
you?"
— Almost like you, but hanging in there. — Tharion touched the food again.
Shadows seemed to lurk in his brown eyes. — Living one hour at a time.
— Any news from Holstrom?

Tharion shook his head, his dark hair following the movement. The merman
finally put down his fork.
- And now?
— Are you honest? — Hunt rested his forearms on the metal table. - I don't
know. Yesterday, my main goal was not to die.
Today? All I can think about is where Bryce is, how to find her. —And how you
would live with yourself in the meantime.
— Do you really think she's in some other world?
The bright lights of the cafeteria reflected off the metal surface of the room.
table in a bright blur.
— If she's not in Hell, then yes... I hope she's in Hell.
another world, and in safety.
— Let's find a way to bring her back here.
Hunt didn't bother telling the merman that this was almost certainly
impossible. Bryce was the only person on Midgard who could open the portal
capable of bringing her home.
He just said,
“Bryce would like me to disclose... what she discovered about the asteri.
So I guess I'll start with the Queen of the Ocean. She's not Ophion's ally, but
she seems... to help them. — He gestured to the ship around them.
— Ah — joked Ketos. — And I thought you were gone

Pick me up from my bunk for lunch.
— And I did. I wanted to see how you were — Hunt replied, but then
admitted: — But I also wanted to know if you had a way to talk to her.
—With the Queen of the Ocean? — Tharion laughed, cold and humorless.
— It would be easier to ask if I have contact information for Ogenas herself.
“She went through all this trouble to help the enemies of the
Asteri,” Hunt explained, drumming his fingers on the table. — I want
to know the reason.
Tharion studied his face with such scrutiny that Hunt remembered
why Ketos had been named Captain of the River Queen's Intelligence.
Hunt let the merman see the pure determination that flowed through
him.
— All right — Tharion said in a deep voice — I'll see what
I can do. Even though…” He shuddered.
- What?
— Considering what happened to her sister and her niece... it
might not work out.
— You are on this ship and no one tried to kill you or send you
back to the River Queen... that must mean something.
— I think it has more to do with Lidia's importance than mine, as
much as it pains me to say that. — Tharion sighed. — And believe
me, the moment I stepped on this ship, they started giving me grief
for deserting the Queen of Rio. I'm an outcast here.
— Well... perhaps this could be used to your advantage, to attract
the Queen of the Ocean to a meeting.
Tharion crossed his muscular arms.
— I'd rather not.
“Think about it,” Hunt said. — Whatever you can get
do... I would appreciate it.
Tharion ran his long fingers through his red hair.
— Okay, okay, I know. — Tharion shifted on the metal bench to
take a cell phone from his skin-tight Neoprene suit. He started typing.
— I'll see if Sendes is free to chat. — He

rose gracefully. — I'll let you know if I get anywhere.
Not a spark of the merman's usual brilliance illuminated his gaze.
“Thanks,” Hunt said. - Keep me informed.
Tharion nodded and left, still typing.
Hunt finished his meal, the fish plate in front of him, and then ate
what was left on Tharion's plate before leaving the cafeteria. The
ship's corridors were silent. Using the
Walking to stretch and test the strength of his healing wings, he walked silently
through the glass-lined hallways, with nothing but the dark ocean around him.
All that crushing water held back by the Ocean Queen's magic. Hunt couldn't
help but be impressed by this.
He hadn't returned to the biodome a few floors above. He couldn't bear to

see the place where he and Bryce had officially become partners.
He found Baxian working out in the gym that had been assigned to them—
one of dozens on that ship, and the one closest to their quarters.
“You need a helper to pick up all that weight,” Hunt warned, stopping near
the bench where the angel shifter grunted under the weight of the bars, dark
wings spread beneath him. — You should have asked me.
“You weren't in the room,” Baxian replied as he lowered the barbell to his
bare, muscular chest. Sweat dripped down the groove between his pectorals,
the brown skin glistening. Parts of the tattoo over the heart For love, anything
is possible, written in Danika's handwriting, still visible there. How could he
replace her... Hunt felt his heart sink as he thought.
Baxian continuou:
— And when I asked the elves if they had seen you, they said you were
having lunch.
Hunt had stopped by the small room where Malana, Sasa, and Rithi had
hidden since arriving, to ask if they wanted to join him and Tharion. They were
in a slight and constant panic about being there, underwater. But they didn't
want to have lunch.
They didn't want to see the ship or any indication that there was an endless
ocean around them. So they stayed in their windowless room, watching some
contentless reality show about real estate agents selling mansions on the
beach in the Coronal Islands, and pretending that they weren't surrounded by
a gigantic, lethal trap for their species.
It was painful to see them earlier, gathered around the television.

Lehabah would have loved them. She should have been there with them. With all
they.
Baxian kept his eyes on the weights he had been lifting.
— I needed to exercise a little.
- Why?
— Thinking bad things — was all Baxian said.
— Oh. — Thoughts that should return to the taste of Ruhn's blood in
his mouth. Hunt stood silently behind the bench, within reach of the bar,
as Baxian lifted her again, arms shaking. There were about 270 kilos
there, easy. — How many have you done?
“Eighty,” Baxian growled, arms outstretched, wings spread beneath
him. Hunt took it upon himself to guide the bar back to the posts. — I
want to reach one hundred.
— One step at a time, man.
Baxian panted, looking at the ceiling. Then he looked at Hunt,
watching him upside down.
- What's up?
— I'm just checking on my friend.
“I'm fine,” Baxian replied, bending down and supporting his hands.
hands on thighs. The wings draped over the black plastic tiles.
Hunt knew it was a lie, but nodded anyway. If Baxian wanted to talk,
he would.
He told Baxian everything that had happened while they were in the
medwitch's room the day before, between sutures, potions and pain.
He told them about Bryce, the Doe and all the shit they had discovered.
Baxian took it well, even though his shock at the Doe's involvement
was obvious. Hunt couldn't blame him. He himself still had a hard time
believing it. But Baxian had been working with Lidia longer than Hunt had
—it would probably take him longer to adjust his image of her.
Baxian nodded toward Hunt's face.

— Any luck removing this stupid thing?
Hunt didn't dare look at the wall of mirrors behind the Hellhound. He
hadn't been able to bear the sight of his face with that halo once again
marring his forehead. He could have sworn the paint burned him from
time to time. This had never happened
before; but this new halo, painted by Rigelus, looked different.

Worse. Alive, somehow.
“No,” Hunt said. —Hypaxia Enador got rid of him last time. So unless
they have a witch queen hidden on this ship, I have to learn to live with her
for now.
— Rigelus is a fucking asshole. Was always.
Baxian wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
Hunt tilted his head.
— What made you change, honestly? This new Baxian Argos is
just the result of knowing Danika was his partner?
It was a risky question, bringing up his dead partner.
Losing a partner was like losing half your soul; living without the person was
torture.
“I don't want to talk about the past,” Baxian said, his wings
hitting his body firmly, and Hunt set it aside.
— Then let's talk about the next steps — Hunt suggested, folding his
own wings, the feeling of tightness lingering a little longer. One more day
and he would be back to normal.
—What’s there to talk about? The general picture is: the Asteri need to
step up.
Hunt snorted.
— I'm glad we agreed on that. — He could only pray that Tharion could
get Sendes to contact the Ocean Queen, and that she too would think like
them.
He examined the male he thought he had known for so many years.
— It is too innocent to hope that some of the ancient Triarians
of Sandriel can also be secretly anti-imperialist?
— Better not push your luck. Two is already a beautiful number. Three,
if we include you.
Good thing he had never actually been part of the triaries.
He just had to put up with all the shit they did during the years he was
chained to Sandriel. Hunt ignored the familiar shiver of dread at the memory
of those years and asked:
— But you and Lidia never suspected that you two were...
— No. Zero. I thought she was like Pollux. — Baxian wiped more sweat
from his forehead, his breathing stabilizing. - You
Do you think Lidia will survive?

Hunt rubbed his chin.
- I hope so. We need her.
- For what?
Hunt smiled at his former enemy, and now friend, he supposed.
— To make these sons of bitches pay for what they did.
***
Tharion told himself not to travel. To focus on the fact that, against all
odds, they had managed to rescue their friends from the Asteri dungeon
— they even went one step further and saved Lidia Cervos from certain
death.
But that didn't matter. Holstrom was left behind. Holstrom, whose
Tharion's life had destroyed.
And not just Holstrom's life, but the Wolves' future as well.
The Fendyr heiress was dead because of him. Technically, because of
Holstrom, but... none of that would have happened if it weren't for
Tharion's choices.
Since getting on that ship, he hadn't given anyone the impression that
he had spent an entire day vomiting his guts out. Partly due to abstinence
from the Viper Queen's venom, but also out of pure disgust for everything
he had done, for what he had become.
Ariadne had been sold, only the gods knew where. For whom.
And okay, technically she hadn't been sold, because the Viper Queen
didn't own her, but... she'd left to avoid having to kill Holstrom. Or at least
that's what the Viper Queen made her think, achieving an advantageous
exchange while, all this time, her plan was to put Sigrid in the ring against
Ithan.
If there was a level below rock bottom, Tharion was there.

He forced himself to stop grinding his teeth and focus on Sendes. She
was in the center of the bridge, receiving the report from one of her
soldiers.
None of the other technicians or officers on the bridge spoke to him.
They didn't even look in his direction.
At least no one there called him a traitor. But everyone knew that he had
deserted the Queen of the River. And taking into account the fact that she was
not exactly unanimous on the ship, they knew that the resentment was due to
the fact that he had deserted the beings of the sea. Of yours.
He wanted to shout to everyone on the bridge that if he could, he would
desert himself.
Sendes finally turned to him, after dismissing the soldier.
- Sorry about that.
Tharion waved his hand. Considering the size of the debt they owed to
Sendes and that ship, she would never need to apologize to him again for
anything.
— I feel like that's all I say these days, but I wanted to ask a favor.
She gave a weak smile.

- Go ahead.
He prepared himself.
— If I wanted to contact the Queen of the Ocean, arrange a meeting
between her, myself and Hunt Athalar... would you help me?
Sendes swallowed. It wasn't a good sign.
— If this is going to bother you — Tharion emphasized — don't
heats up. But I told Athalar I would ask you, and...
“You'll get what you want,” she said sadly. — The Queen of the Ocean is
coming here tomorrow.
Tharion swallowed hard, hiding his surprise.
— Okay — he replied, worriedly? —, you look...
Sendes tugged at the collar of his clothes.

— She wants to see you. All of you.
He raised his eyebrows.
— Problem solved, then.
— From her phone call, I got the impression that she's not... very happy
about your presence here. —Sendes grimaced. —Something to do with the
Viper Queen and the River Queen threatening to declare war for harboring you?
Well, what the fuck.

Ithan lunged for the book that had somehow slid into the office door, landing on
top of him with a thud that echoed through his entire body.
To his dismay, the book stirred beneath him, trying to pull itself together.
dodge toward the door and the world beyond.
“Stop that noise,” Jesiba complained over the sound of her typing.
Ithan grunted, pressing all of his considerable weight onto the errant book...
— Enough — replied Jesiba, and the book stopped on command in its place.
voice.
However, Ithan didn't move until he was sure that the book had indeed
obeyed its owner. Withdrawing his body to look at the blue leather-bound book,
he tensed and then reached out to take it.
But the book stayed there, still. Inert. Like a normal book...
The book started to bite Ithan's fingers, who threw himself at him again.
— Lehabah was much more efficient... and ate much less. For
Where does all this food go, wolf?
Ithan was unable to respond as he struggled to make the book obey

again, wrapping it in his arms. Clutching it to his chest, he stood and
walked toward the shelf where the book should have been while Ithan
opened another box...
— I said enough — said Jesiba, and the book froze in Ithan's arms.
He placed it back on the shelf before it could escape. Then he gave
another push as a way of telling the book to go fuck itself.
The book jerked back, as if it wanted to jump off the shelf and attack
him a third time, but a golden wave of light shone across its spine—a
grate settling into its place. Protections to seal magical books. The book
struggled against the railing. And there it stayed.
Jesiba said from the
table: — I thought I was smarter than him with the previous
protections, but I want to see how you get through this one.
As if in response, the book rattled back on the shelf.
Ithan showed the middle finger and turned to the sorceress.
He had spent the last day working non-stop, unpacking boxes,
inspecting the goods, cataloging the contents, repackaging the artifacts
inside, pasting new shipping labels... Heavy work, which at least kept
him busy.
It kept him from thinking about the blood on his hands. The body he
could only hope was indeed on ice somewhere in that underground
labyrinth.
He didn't leave Roga's office. She ordered food to be delivered from
the House's private kitchens — and if he needed to rest, she ordered
him to lie down on the carpet, curled up like the dog he was.
And that's what he did, ignoring the insult, and falling into a sleep so
deep that she had to poke him with her foot to make him wake up.
He might have protested this behavior if she had not been the bearer
of good news: Hunt Athalar, Ruhn Danaan, and Baxian Argos had
escaped the Asteri dungeon during a rescue operation that incinerated
the entire Spine.
The Doe had done it. Tharion, Flynn and Dec had made it. Somehow,
they managed. Relief tightened her throat to the point of pain, even as the
shame of not helping them turned her stomach.
Since then, Ithan and Jesiba had exchanged few words. Roga had spent
much of his time in client or House meetings, which he didn't talk to him
about, but now... Ithan looked at the shelf, at the magical book that was
struggling against the protections that kept it in place.
— During the Summit — commented Ithan, ignoring the belligerent

volume — Micah said that his books were from the Parthos Library. — Amelie
had gossiped about it later. — Which are all that's left of there.
— Hmm — murmured Jesiba, continuing to type on the keyboard.

Ithan plopped down in the chair in front of her desk.
— Achae that Parthos was a commander.
—The books say otherwise, don't they?
—What is the truth, then?
— None that a Vanir could easily believe. — But she stopped typing. Your
eyes lifted above the computer screen to meet his.
—Amelie Ravenscroft stated that Micah said the library

it contained two thousand years of human knowledge before the Asteri.
- AND? —Her face revealed nothing.
He pointed to the pissed off book.
—So humans had magic?
She sighed through her nose.
— No. The magical books that are here... they should be guardians of the
library. At least that's what I enchanted them for, centuries ago. So that they
would attack anyone who tried to rob them, and so that they could defend
them. —A book like that, Ithan remembered Bryce telling him, helped save
her when she fought Micah.
— But the volumes took on a life and desires of their own. They became...
conscious. — She looked at the misbehaving book. —And when I tried to
undo the life spells on them, their existence had become too permanent to be
undone. So, I needed
of monitors like Lehabah to protect the guardians. To ensure they didn't escape
and become an even bigger nuisance.
— Why not sell them?

She shot him a withering look.
— Because my spells are written there. I'm not going to let this knowledge
spread around the world. — Roga had been a witch before defecting to the
House of Flame and Shadow and calling herself a sorceress. He could only
imagine what she had seen in her very long life.
—So what do they say? Parthos's books?

The clicking of the keys began again.
- Anything. And it all.
Ithan snorted.
— Enigmatic as always.
She stopped writing again.
— Most people would think they're boring. Some are books on advanced
mathematics, entire volumes on imaginary numbers. Others are philosophical
treatises. Some are plays... tragedies, comedies... and some are poetry.
— Everything about human life before the asteri?

— A great civilization lived on Midgard long before it was conquered by the
Asteri. — He could have sworn she looked sad. — A civilization that valued
knowledge in its various forms. So much so that a hundred thousand humans
marched on Parthos to save these books from the Asteri and Vanir who came
to burn them. — She shook her head, her expression distant. — A world where
people loved and valued books and learning so much that they were willing to
die for them. Can you imagine what this civilization was like? A hundred
thousand men and women marched in defense of a library... seems like a bad
joke these days. — Her eyes sparkled. —But they fought and died.
All to give the library priestesses enough time to smuggle the books onto ships.
The Vanir armies intercepted most of them, and the priestesses were burned,
their precious books being used as firewood. But one of the ships... — The lips
from her they bowed upwards. — The Griffin. He managed to escape the Vanir
networks. He sailed across the Haldren and found a safe harbor at Valbara.
Ithan shook his head slowly.

— How do you know all this, when no one else does?
— Sea creatures know a little — she limited herself to saying. — They
helped Griffin cross the sea, at the behest of the Ocean Queen.
- Why?
— Then you'll have to ask the sea creatures.
—But why do you know that? How did this collection end up in your hands?
— I'll avoid making comparisons with dogs that don't drop bones. — Jesiba
closed her laptop with a soft click. He intertwined his fingers and rested his
hands on the computer. —Quinlan knew when to keep his mouth shut, you
know? She never asked why I have these books, why I have the Archesian
amulets that the priestesses of Parthos wore.
Ithan felt his mouth go dry. He whispered:

— What... who are you?
Jesiba burst into laughter and several books on the shelf shook.
Ithan could barely breathe when Jesiba snapped her fingers.
Her short hair fell into long, curly locks, framing her face. The makeup
disappeared, revealing features that somehow looked younger… more innocent.
It was Jesiba, but it wasn't. It was Jesiba, as if she were trapped in the
prime of her youth. Of innocence. But her voice was as tired as ever when she
said, “Lest you think I'm
lying... that's the state of things.
to which I will always return... I can return if I so desire.
— So you are... capable of making magical transformations?
She didn't smile.
— No. I was cursed by a demon. By a prince who intercepted my ship and
the books I carried on it.
Ithan's heart was beating faster and faster.
— We had almost reached the Haldren Sea when Apollion found the
Griffin. —Her voice betrayed no emotion. — He had heard of the failed
resistance attempt on Parthos, of the ships and the priestesses burned
along with their books. I was curious to know what could be so valuable to
humans that they were willing to die to defend it. You couldn't understand
when I said that there was nothing but the power of knowledge... that there
was no weapon other than learning.
— Her smile became more bitter. “He refused to believe me. And he cursed
me for my insolence in not telling the truth.
Ithan swallowed.
—What kind of curse?
She pointed to her longer hair, her softer face.
— To live, unchanging, until I decided to show the true power of books
— she said simply. — He still believes that they are a weapon and that one
day I will be so tired of living that I will hand over all the books, revealing
the supposed weapons hidden there.
— But... I thought you were a witch.
She shrugged.
— I was, for a while. How do you categorize a human woman who has
stopped aging? That she always returns to the same age, the same physical
condition as when she was cursed? I cherished my years with my fellow
priestesses on Parthos. When the witch dynasties arose, I thought I might
find similar companionship among them. A home.
— You... were you a priestess in Parthos?

She nodded.
— Priestess, witch... and now sorceress.
—But if you were human, where did your magic come from? — She had
said that Apollion had granted him long life, not powers.
Her gray eyes darkened like the stormy sea she had sailed long ago.
— When Apollion found my boat, it was full of power.

It had just consumed Sirius. I don't think it was his intention, but when he
touched me... he transferred something to me.
From the way she said touching, Ithan knew exactly how she saw
what he had done to her.
“It took me a while to realize I had powers beyond eternal youth,” she
said softly, “and luckily I've had fifteen thousand years to learn to master
those powers. To allow them to become part of me, to have a life of their
own, like books did.
He was overcome with horror.

— Do you want to... start getting old again?
It was a very personal question, but to Ithan's surprise, she answered.
— Not yet — said Jesiba in a low voice, come the —, not until
time.
- Than? — He dared to ask.
She glanced over her shoulder at the small library, at the aggressive
book that had finally calmed down, as if it were acting out.
— That a world will emerge where these books will finally be safe.
Bryce found the Autumn King in his office, his red hair shining in the
morning light. Contemplating the Aster and the Revealer
of Truth on your table.
So he had been hit by what she had said the other night. Excellent.
— So close — she purred as she closed the door and approached the
table — but so far. So unworthy.
Flames danced in his eyes.
— What do you want, girl?
She walked around the table to stand next to his chair, looking at the
weapons from her father's angle. He frowned, as if her mere proximity was
unpleasant.
— Did my mother ever tell you what happened that night when she was
trying to take me to safety?
When did her goons catch up to her and Randall?
“If I were you, I'd think carefully about what you're going to say,” he
replied.
Bryce smiled.
— It had been years since Randall had picked up a gun. Not since he'd
come back from the front and sworn he'd never wear one again. She was
about to say her vows to Solas when she received a request for
help from the High Priest, to help a single mother and her three-year-old
daughter who needed to escape from you. And that night, his shitty guards
found us... It was the first time Randall had ever picked up a gun again. He
put a bullet right in his security chief's head. Randall hated every damn
second of it. But he did it anyway. Because at that moment, even after just
three days of running away together, I already knew I was in love with my
mother. And that there was nothing he wouldn't do for her.
The Autumn King's nose wrinkled in annoyance.

— Where are you going with this story?
— What I want to say — she said, approaching her father — is that it
wasn't just from my mother that I learned what love is. With my father too. My
real father. My human and weak father, of whom you are jealous. He taught
me to fight like hell for the people I love.
— This story is tiring me. —The Autumn King mentioned

to walk away, but Bryce grabbed his arm.
— You're going, and I'm coming back. I've been tired of you since the
first moment you opened your mouth.
The sound of stone was heard.
The Autumn King retreated, but it was too late. The Gorsian cuffs were
already fastened around his wrist.
“You little bitch,” he hissed, and Bryce let the cuff on his other wrist fall to
the floor. — You have no idea who you're messing with...
— Yes, I do. A useless, pathetic loser.

He got up, but she had already snatched the Truth-Revealer and Aster.
He stopped when she unsheathed her blades, pointing them both at him.
Bryce said, his voice soft, and the knife and sword steady in his hands:
— Here's the deal: just don't resist and I won't impale you with this and
use your belly to test how to open that portal. to nowhere.
The flame flared and then disappeared in his eyes as the handcuffs held
him firmly in place.
She smiled, tilting her head.
— By the way, thanks for all that information about the

blades. Well I thought you might know something useful. It's a shame he sent one
all the servants away, isn't it? There's no one to hear you screaming.
He turned pale with anger.

— You ended up here on purpose.
“You can believe that,” she replied, throwing her hair over her shoulders and
shaking her head. — I knew that you had been dedicated to this research for
centuries. You are the only person obsessed with Aster and her secrets, so sad
about being rejected, about not being a Chosen One. So I came here looking for
answers. To know what exactly a weapon like this could do. How to get rid of your
intergalactic friends. - She smiled. —And you assumed I fell here because...?
He looked at her angrily.

— Oh, that's right — she added — becauseI'm your stupid, clumsy daughter. I
fell here by accident... is that it? — She laughed, unable to contain herself. — You
must have even convinced yourself that Luna had sent you a gift. That he had
received a favor from the gods and that all of this was designated by Urd.
The silence was confirmation enough.

She made an exaggerated pout.
— What bad luck. And even more bad luck with the handcuffs. As much as I
think it's appropriate to have used the key that Ruhn kept in his room. Ruhn told me
this once, you know. That's what he had to wear when you put the handcuffs on him
to burn him. You put those pretty little things on him so he couldn't fight back. And it
happened so many times that he invested in a disarming key that he left on the table
in his room, so that he could free himself when you sent him back there to suffer.
The Autumn King remained silent. The bastard wouldn't even deny the
accusations.
Bryce bared his teeth, a blinding, searing rage invading his vision. But her voice
was cold as ice when she said:
— To be honest, I really wanted to kill you, right here, right now. For my
mother, but also for Ruhn. And I think for me too. — She indicated the door
with her head. —But we have an agreement, don't we? And I have a really
hot date today.
He gave a look that bore the purest death.
— The asteri will kill you.
- Perhaps. But you won't tell them any of this to help them. — She
extended the Aster towards his face. — It really sucks that you unplugged
all your electronics and turned off the interweb. There will be no way to ask
for help from inside the basement closet.
He was so indignant that he choked.

- O...
“Ah, don't worry,” she said slowly. — I put a bucket and some water
there for you. It should be enough until one of your idiot guards wonders
what's going on here and comes to check it out. — She pretended to ponder.
— But they may have some difficulty getting through your protections.
— Just as you will.

— Unfortunately for you, no. I won't have any difficulties. You didn't put
protections against teleportation. Such a rare gift around here... it didn't
even occur to you to protect yourself from it, right? How lucky for me.
— I would think very carefully about your next moves

if it were...
— Okay, okay. — She pointed with the sword at the door. — Come on. Your
underground abode awaits.
He didn't try anything as she escorted him down, evidently worried about
the power of the weapons Bryce carried.
Ever since Vesperus had writhed beneath the two blades, a thought in
the back of Bryce's mind had been bothering her. Remembering everything
Ruhn had told her about the Autumn King's obsession with Aster, she bet
he might also know about the dagger.
It was the hardest decision she had ever made in her life: going there,
playing this little game, instead of having the portal take her straight to
Hunt. But Hunt, as she feared, was still in the dungeons, and appearing
there would have been too risky. And this knowledge was very important.
But now she knew a little more. Aster and the Revealer of Truth could
open a portal to nowhere, wherever it was. Now she just needed to learn
how to make them act that way.
Good thing he had also said where to find more information about the
blades in Midgard.
The Autumn King hesitated as Bryce pointed his sword at the open
closet in the basement. Like much of the house, it was fireproof. It was
possible that it would take him some time to break down the heavy steel
door, if he managed to free himself from the Gorsian shackles.
The Autumn King growled as he entered the closet: —

I'm going to kill you and your whore mother for this.
She motioned for him to go further into the closet.
— I'll leave it scheduled for tomorrow.
And with that, she slammed the door in his face, then locked it. He
threw himself against the door a second later. The door shuddered, but
held.
Whistling softly and supporting Aster on his shoulder, Bryce left the
basement.
There was much more to do. Places to be. People to see.
And more to learn.
Five minutes later, Bryce took his cell phone out of the desk drawer in
the Autumn King's office. It was out of battery, and a quick search of the
office turned up no sign of charging cables to get it back up and running.
She tucked it into the waistband of her leggings and took out the Aster and
the Truth-Revealer, which had
left on the table.
The Autumn King's prismatic device was where he had left it. A ray of
sunlight shone through the windows, reflecting the
prism and refracting a rainbow on one of the planetarium's golden planets — in

Midgard. The light separated. Pure light.
In the chaos of those final moments with Vesperus and the days spent with
the Autumn King, she had not yet had the opportunity to explore the magic she
had taken from Silene.
He imagined that he had claimed the magic for himself, since Silene had
certainly left it there to be taken by future heirs.
But why didn't they do it? Why didn't her son, who had heard the truth from his
mother's mouth, do so? Bryce knew he might never get the answer. But he
could try to learn something about the power he now had within him.
With a deep breath, Bryce summoned his magic. As she exhaled, she sent
a stream of her starlight into the prism, her power faster than ever.
Starlight hit the prism, passed through it, and...

— Hum.
It wasn't a rainbow that appeared on the other side. It wasn't even close to
that.
She took a moment to process what she was seeing: a radiant beam of
starlight. Where the rainbow should have been full of colors, there appeared a
sparkling white light that descended into the shadow.
An anti-rainbow, so to speak. Light falling into the darkness, droplets of
starlight raining from the highest beam to the shadowy band at the bottom,
devoured by the darkness below.
Like the dim light of day—of twilight.
What did that mean? She was sure her light was pure before, but now, with
Silene's power mixed in... there was darkness there too. Hidden underneath.
And I am in Avallen.
Did that make any difference to his power? For her? Now have that layer of
darkness?
Bryce put the questions aside. I could think about that later.
At that moment...
She picked up the notebook from the table and placed it in the inside pocket
of her sports jacket.
Then he pushed the prism on the table a few inches to the side, angling
it toward the device on the other side of the room.
The one the Autumn King said might be able to recapture the light, possibly
with more power added to it. But what if light burst from either prism, meeting
in the middle? What would happen in the collision of so much magic?
All that overwhelming light, the little bits of magic colliding with each other
would produce energy. And they would supply it as if it were a battery.
At least that's what she hoped.

— There's only one way to find out — she muttered to herself.
With a prayer to Cthona, she sent two identical beams of light arcing
around the prisms, shooting right into the middle of them.
Identical bursts of the same light shone from both prisms, firing at each
other. Streaks of light falling into the darkness, their power reduced to their
most elemental and basic form.
They shone into each other, and where they met, light, darkness, darkness
and light collided...
Bryce walked right into the center of the explosion.
Came into his power.
It lit her up inside, lit up her own blood. Hair floated above his head, pens,
papers and other office objects rising with him.
So much light and darkness — power was in the meeting of the two.
Now he could understand how darkness shaped light.
But all that power combined... was the boost she needed.
She gave the middle finger to the ground at her feet, to the angry Autumn
King below, and teleported out of the house, to the place she most wanted to
be.
Home. Wherever that was on Midgard.
Because home was no longer just a physical place, but also a person.
Silene stated this when she spoke of Theia and Aidas... their souls met
across the worlds, because they were partners. They were the
each other's home.

And for Bryce, home was — and always would be — Hunt.
***
Ruhn was so tired that despite the pain in his neck, he didn't bother moving
to a more comfortable position in the chair.
The machines beeped nonstop, like metal crickets marking the passage of
the night.
He was vaguely aware that Declan was replacing Flynn.
Then Dec came out and it was Flynn again.
I couldn't say what woke him up. Maybe a change in the machine or some
change in the cadence of her breathing, but... a stillness passed through him.
He opened his eyes, painful and heavy, and looked at the bed.
Lidia was still unconscious. Terribly pale.

Lidia.
No answer. Ruhn rested his arms on his knees and rubbed his face.
Maybe he could sleep on the tile floor. It would be better than squirming in
the chair.
— Good morning — said Flynn — would you like a coffee?
Ruhn grunted his consent. Flynn patted his
He turned his back and left, the door opening and closing with a noise.
Gods, his entire body hurt. The hand… he examined the slender,
strangely pale fingers, the lack of tattoos or scars.
Still weak.
As if he was still rebuilding the strength stored in his immortal blood on
the day of his Descent.
He flexed his fingers, wincing, then sat up slowly and cracked his neck.
He was spinning a third time when he looked at the bed and noticed Lidia
staring at him.
He was frozen in place.
Her golden eyes were cloudy with pain and exhaustion, but
open, and she was... she was...
Ruhn blinked, making sure he wasn't dreaming.
Lidia said hoarsely.
—Am I alive or dead?

It felt like a hole had opened in his chest.
“Hurray,” he whispered, his hands beginning to shake.
Lidia's lips slowly curved, as if it took all her effort to do so. The weight
of it hit him, of what she was, of who she was and what she had done.
The Doe was before him. The Doe, damn it! How could he feel so much
relief for someone he hated so intensely? How could he hate someone
whose life was more important to him than life itself?
Her glassy eyes looked away from his. He looked around the windowless
room, taking in the machines and the IV drip. His nostrils flared, smelling the
room beneath the antiseptics and various potions. Something sharpened in
his gaze. Something like recognition.
Then Lidia asked very quietly: — Where

are we?
The question surprised him. She had planned that escape. Would the
injury affect his mind? Gods, he hadn't even thought about the possible
consequences of being without oxygen for so long. Ruhn said slowly: — On
the
Freighter of the Deep...
She moved.
Tubes and monitors flew, ripped from his arm so quickly that blood
gushed out. The machines beeped and Ruhn couldn't move fast enough to
stop her as she jumped out of bed, her feet slipping on the floor as she ran
for the door.
The window opened, revealing Flynn with two cups of coffee in his hand.
hand. He dodged to the side with a “what the fuck?”
Lidia bolted, barely able to stand, and all Ruhn
All he could do was run after her.
The few medwitches in the room at that hour let out exclamations of
surprise at the doe shapeshifter who stumbled past in her pale blue hospital
gown, flailing against the walls with the grace of a newborn foal. His legs
had been rebuilt; she had never used these before.
- What the hell is this? said Flynn, a step behind Ruhn, smelling of the coffee
he had spilled on himself when he had jumped out of Lidia's way.
Lidia arrived at the stairs and, just before the door closed behind her, Ruhn
saw her stumble, falling to her knees on the steps and getting back up.
“Lidia,” he panted, each step making his lungs burn.

For the bitch who gave birth to his body, still healing...
He knocked hard on the door that led to the well stairs, but she was already
halfway there, her long, pale, thin legs against the gray tiles.
She advanced further and further, unaware or ignoring the fact that Ruhn
was running close behind. She opened an unmarked door and bolted down the
hallway. People in civilian clothes clung to the walls when they saw her — then
him. The walls there were covered in brightly colored art and pamphlets.
Lidia breathed deeper and deeper. He sobbed, stretching his neck to see
through the windows of the rooms he passed. Ruhn read the words on each
wooden door: Third Year. Seventh Year. Fifth Year.
She skidded to a stop, grabbing the doorframe. Ruhn

He arrived at her side just as he peeked through the glass.
Ninth Year.
A group of teenagers — most of them sea creatures, with striped skin and
different colors — were sitting on rows of desks in the classroom. Lidia pressed
her hand against the door. Tears streamed down her face.
And then a boy, with golden hair and blue eyes, turned his head away.
teacher's gaze and looked at the window. The boy wasn't a merman.
Ruhn felt the ground disappear beneath his feet. The boy looked exactly like
Lidia. He had the same skin and hair color.
Another boy to his left, also not a merman, had black hair.
dark and golden eyes. Lidia's eyes.
Behind them, Flynn grunted in surprise.
— Do you have brothers on this ship?
—They are not my brothers — Lidia whispered. Your fingers

bent over the glass. - Are my kids.
Hunt leaned against the wall of the Deep Freighter's massive tactical
room, arms crossed. Tharion and Baxian stood at his side, the former
feigning indifference, the latter the picture of menace.
The only piece of furniture in the room was a conference table,
and despite being told to sit down when they entered five minutes
earlier, the three remained standing.
Hunt mentally went over everything he needed to say. The Queen
of the Ocean had asked Sendes that Tharion attend the meeting, but
Athalar knew he would have no better opportunity to ask the questions
he wanted. Assuming Tharion managed to stay intact until Hunt
started talking. Otherwise, it could complicate your plans.
If Tharion was nervous, he didn't show it. The merman removed

invisible lint from his aquatic suit and occasionally glanced at the
digital clock on the opposite wall. But Hunt noticed his blank stare. A
male prepared to face his end. That maybe he thought he deserved
what was coming.
Something made the ship shudder, like an underwater earthquake.
As threatening and deadly as a tsunami. Old and cold like the bottom
of an ocean trench.
"She's here," Tharion murmured.

Baxian's dark wings closed tighter and he glanced sideways at Hunt.
— Have you met the Queen of the Ocean?

“No,” Hunt said, folding his wings. He wished he had a gun, any gun.
Even though he could count on his lightning and brute strength, the weight
of a gun or sword at his side brought a certain comfort. Even though
neither of them were of any use against the being that had arrived on the
ship.
— I've never even seen her. You?
Baxian ran a hand through his curly black hair.
— No. Ketos?
— No — was the merman's only response, his eyes fixed on the clock
again.
It was not surprising that not even Tharion had met the Ocean Queen.
She was more enigmatic than the River Queen and was rumored to have
been born to Ogenas herself. The daughter of a goddess, who could
certainly cause the force of the entire ocean to collapse on the ship and...
The door was opened. Sendes appeared and

announced: — Her Majesty of the Deep, the Queen of the Ocean. —
The commander stepped to the side, giving an exaggerated bow as a tiny
female passed behind her.
Hunt didn't react. Even Tharion seemed to contain his shock,
shallow breathing.
Her voluptuous body measured just over four feet tall. The skin was as
pale as a fish's belly; his eyes were angular and as dark as a shark's. Her
face was heart-shaped, neither beautiful nor simple, her lips were shaped
like rosebuds, the reddish-pink color of a snapper. There was a strange
lightness to her walking... as if she wasn't used to dry land.
And the seaweed and gorgonian dress she wore had a train that trailed as
she walked, the shells and coral decorations tinkling with each movement.
The three moved away from the wall and, following Sendes' example,
they bowed.
But as he did so, Hunt kept his eyes on the Ocean Queen, noticing the
slow movement of her eyes as she took in the three of them.
Only the eyes moved — nothing else. A predator sizing up its prey.
When he decided that they had worshiped her enough, he walked to

the end of the table. Each step left a foot-shaped puddle on the tiles, even
though it appeared to be dry. Crustaceans adorned some strands of her
hair like beads.
“Sit down,” she ordered, her deep, undulating voice giving you
goosebumps.
Wings rustled and chairs creaked as they obeyed her.
Hunt wondered if today had angered Urd in any way, realizing that he had
claimed the chair closest to the head of the table... and the monarch sitting
there. Baxian was sitting on the other side and Tharion, that worm, had
crawled into the farthest seat, a hop away from the door.
Adjusting the wings on the back of the chair, Hunt locked eyes with
Baxian. The Hellhound returned a look that said: Well, I'm about to shit my
pants.
Hunt looked at his chair as if to say You're not the one glued to it.
The queen examined them with calm, merciless eyes.

Hunt couldn't help but swallow hard. He had never felt so small, so
insignificant. Even in the face of the asteri, he could remember that he was
a warrior, a good one, and that he could at least offer resistance against
them. But in front of this female... he saw it in her eyes, felt it in her blood:
one thought was enough for her to extinguish his existence with a wave of
power.
Sendes cleared his throat and said, his voice
trembling: — Allow me to introduce Hunt Athalar, Baxian Argos, and
Tharion Ketos.
— Our guests from Valbara — acknowledged the Queen of the Ocean.
His words seemed accompanied by the howl of the wind, even though the
tone of his voice was soft. Hunt felt his entire body go
keyed up.
As quickly as a storm sweeping across the sea, it seemed to grow. No, it

was growing, taller and taller, until it towered over Sendes, almost as tall as
Hunt.
His power surged, filling the room, dragging their puny souls into his
muffled heart like a whirlpool. The Queen of the Ocean turned her attention to
Tharion and said, with a threatening tone that made her knees tremble: —
You brought a lot of trouble to my house.
***
Ruhn tried unsuccessfully to process what he heard. Lidia had... children?

A female voice behind them said:
- MS. Deer.
Lidia didn't turn around. He continued looking at the boys in the classroom.
But Ruhn looked and found a sturdy, dark-skinned, gentle-faced mermaid

standing there. She introduced herself:
— I am director Kagani, the highest authority of this school.
Lidia's fingers twitched on the glass of the door window.
— Can I meet them? — The question was very, very low. Voice breaking.
Kagani gave a soft sigh.

— I think it would be quite damaging and too revealing if they were
removed from the classroom now.
Lidia finally turned around, showing her teeth.
— I want to meet my children.
Ruhn's mind raced at the expression on her face.
Anger, pain and the indomitable ferocity of a mother.
— I know you want to — Kagani replied with imperturbable calm — but it
would be better if we talked in my office after class. It's at the end of the hall.
The Doe didn't even move.

— Think about what's best for them, Lidia — encouraged Kagani. — I
really understand... I'm also a mother. If I had…” She swallowed. — I would
want the same thing if I had made the choices I did.
you did. But I am also an educator and advocate for these children.
Please put the twins first today. Just like you have done every day for
the last fifteen years.
Lidia examined the female's face with a receptivity that Ruhn had
never seen in her. He looked over his shoulder, back toward the
classroom. The blonde boy was at his desk at that moment, staring at
Lidia with wide eyes. The dark-haired boy watched her carefully, but
remained sitting.
There was a lot of Lidia in their features. When they were far away
from her, it was unlikely anyone would be able to make the connection,
but it was impossible to ignore when they were so close.
— It’s okay — Lidia whispered, lowering her hand from the window
— it’s okay.
Kagani breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
— Why don't you go clean up? School doesn't end for another five
hours, so don't be in a rush. Eat something. Maybe get a quick exam
with your medwitch. — She nodded at the half-scarred holes in Lidia's
arm, where the serum had been ripped out.
— Okay — Lidia repeated for the third time, and walked away. As
if Ruhn and Flynn didn't exist.
Director Kagani added gently, “I will contact
Brann and Actaeon's adoptive parents to see if they can participate
as well.
Lidia nodded silently and continued walking.
Ruhn looked at Flynn, who had his eyebrows raised,
and raised his own eyebrows in silent agreement.
A sudden movement caught his attention and Ruhn turned around.
towards Lidia, indistinctly extending his hand towards her.
But he wasn't quick enough to catch her when she
he fainted and fell to the floor.
***
Tharion had never met anyone as frightening and alluring as the Ocean
Queen. I never wanted to cry, laugh and scream at the same time
time... although he was more inclined to do the latter when the queen
demonstrated the full force of her displeasure.
— Tharion Ketos. — She pronounced his name as if it left a bad taste in
his mouth. — Explain to me how you have not just one, but two queens
demanding your head?
He shuddered and used all the charm he had — the main and
best defense strategy he had and could apply. — It's just that
I usually cause this effect on females.
The monarch did not smile, but he could have sworn that Sendes, standing still
at the door, I was trying not to laugh.
The Queen of the Ocean folded her hands in front of her soft, curved belly.
— I have received reports that the Viper Queen of Lunathion has placed
a bounty on your head worth three million gold marks. — Athalar, the bastard,
let out a low whistle. — Five million if you're alive, so she can punish you
herself.
Tharion held his breath.
- Whereby? — He quickly added: — Your Majesty.
“I don't know the details and I don't want to know,” replied the Queen of
the Ocean, her pearly teeth gleaming behind her bright red lips. — But I
believe it had something to do with your presence bringing in certain individuals
who caused incalculable damage to her property. She considers you largely
responsible.
He was so, so fucked up.
— But your problems don't stop there — continued the queen.
He could have sworn those shiny teeth had gotten sharper.
— My supposed sister from Istros also demands your return. She is
threatening war against me, against me, if you are not handed over. I believe
to be executed.
He could barely breathe.
— Please — he whispered — my parents...
— Oh, I wouldn't worry about your family if I were you. — The Queen of
the Ocean seethed. His teeth were now curved and razor-like. A real shark.
— The River Queen and the Viper Queen only want you. It would be great if
you gave me a good
reason not to hand it over... and let them fight over its carcass.
He looked for some way to calm things down, to win her over, but he
failed. The streak of luck, which used to be so great and deep, had officially
dried up...
— If you hand him over — said a drawling female voice coming from the
open door, you will —,have a third queen pissed off with you.
Tharion felt the ground disappear beneath his feet.
Bryce Quinlan walked through the door and gave the Ocean Queen a
wink.
— Tharion serve a mim.
Hunt was out of his body, out of his mind. Maybe he had died. It was
Bryce right there, in the doorway, smiling at the Ocean Queen.
She was Bryce and at the same time...she wasn't.
He wore his usual outfit—tight jeans and a soft white T-shirt with a
navy blue sports jacket. Hell, she even had those neon pink sneakers
on. But there was something different about her posture, the way the
light seemed to shine off her.
She looked older, somehow. Not in expression lines or wrinkles, but
in your eyes. As if I had been through big events, good and bad. Hunt
recognized this, because it was also engraved on his own face.
The Ocean Queen looked at Bryce firmly.

— And please tell me... who are you?
Bryce wasn't shaken for a moment.
— I am Bryce Danaan, queen of the Valbaran fae.
Hunt made a strangled sound—a sob.
Bryce looked at him then, examining his face, the tears he couldn't
hold back. Her gaze went to the halo and then to his wrist... but her
expression revealed nothing. She just walked over to where he was
sitting, and it was her, her scent, her soft skin brushing against his hand
as she looked at his face.
“Hey,” he said, his voice hoarse, his eyes burning.

Bryce squeezed his hand, his eyes also filling with tears.
- Hey. — She blinked away the tears, turning to the Queen of the Ocean,
who monitored her every move. Every breath.
The Queen of the Ocean said to Bryce, her shark teeth gleaming:
— I don't recognize any queen with that title.

“I recognize it,” Hunt replied, folding his wings behind him as he stood up,
moving to Bryce's side. Her fingers brushed his and a shiver of pleasure ran
through him. — She is my partner. — He bowed to the Queen of the Ocean.
—Prince Hunt Athalar Danaan, at your service. I can attest that Tharion Ketos
serves my queen and partner. Any other claims for him are false.
Bryce gave a wry look that seemed to say, You're a fucking bitch.
liar, but I love you.
The Ocean Queen still watched Bryce with a face as cold as the northern
region of the Haldren Sea.
— I'll need to check that out. — She pointed a nail made of pure mother-
of-pearl at the merman. — Tharion Ketos, you are confined to this ship until
further notice.
Tharion lowered his head, but remained still and silent.
The Ocean Queen lowered her finger and gave Bryce a sharp look. It was
pure instinct that Hunt braced his knees, ready to jump between the two and
protect his partner. But there was no lightning, no gun, no sword that could
save Bryce if the Ocean Queen brought the full wrath of the sea upon them.
At that depth, he wouldn't have the slightest chance of reaching the surface in
time. That is, if their bodies didn't explode first due to the pressure.
But the almost divine being stated, with traces of

haughtiness: — Queen or not, you are now all guests on my ship... and
you will only leave when I say so.
Hunt refrained from saying that this check-out policy was not very
guest-friendly. Especially when the Ocean Queen asked Bryce,
narrowing her dark eyes: — Is your father, the Autumn
King, still breathing?
- For now.
The Ocean Queen weighed her words. Then he responded to
Bryce's smile with a smile of his own, revealing all those hooked shark
teeth.
— I don't remember inviting you to this ship.
Bryce checked his nails. It was a move so characteristic of her that
Hunt's chest tightened.
— Well, someone sent me a virtual invitation.
Hunt lowered his head to hide the smile on his face. He had
forgotten how fun it was to watch Bryce in action. Leading all those
idiots with mastery. This helped to ease the weight he felt, taking away
some of that primitive terror. But just a little.
The Queen of the Ocean said, categorically:
— I don't know of such a thing.
Bryce's whiskey-colored eyes twinkled, making it clear he was
having fun with this, but his tone was very serious as he explained, "I
teleported
here." I needed to find my partner.
— You and your partner are dismissed — announced the Queen of

the Ocean, waving her hand with mother-of-pearl nails. A hermit crab
passed through her dark hair and disappeared again. — I have
important matters to discuss with Captain Ketos.
Tharion looked straight ahead, grimacing. Perhaps his death

sentence hadn't been postponed after all.
But Bryce still didn't get carried away. — Yes,
but you see, my matters are a little more urgent.
— That seems highly unlikely to me.
Two queens facing each other. And there was no doubt in Hunt's
mind that Bryce was a queen now. The posture, the strength that radiated
her... She didn't need a crown to rule that room.

Bryce took a deep breath, the only sign of nervousness. And I told
ruler of the seas: — You
are wrong.
***
It took all of Bryce's willpower not to grab Hunt right then and there and kiss
him until he was dizzy. It took all her willpower not to let herself be overcome
by fury and cry when she saw the halo tattooed again on his forehead, the
mark stamped on his wrist.
She would kill the Asteri for doing this.
Killing them was already in her plans, of course, but after what they did
to Hunt while she was away... she would make sure they died a very slow
death.
That is, when he finally discovered how to kill them.
And when he hugged Hunt, she wouldn't let go. Never. But they had so
many things to work out now that giving in wasn't among the options, nor
was hugging and loving him.
She didn't dare ask where Ruhn was, not with the Ocean Queen present.
Baxian was with Hunt, so perhaps his brother was nearby too. The Autumn
King had said that everyone had been rescued. Ruhn had to be there.
Somewhere.
But she couldn't wait for her brother. He would have to be brought up to
speed on this later.
“I traveled to the original world of the fae,” she said. —, through a
Gate of the Eternal Palace. I possess the Horn of Luna, which helped open
the path between the worlds.
A stunned silence filled the room. Hunt was almost vibrating with her
lightning and curiosity, but Bryce didn't look away from the Ocean Queen as
the female said, her voice neutral: — I assume you discovered
something.
Bryce nodded curtly.
— I already knew that asteri are intergalactic parasites. But it turns out
they infected the waters of Midgard by invading this world.
— They infected — pondered the Queen of the Ocean.

Bryce nodded again.
— The asteri put a real parasite in the water... or something like one.
I don't know how to explain what it is in a more specific way. Whatever it
is, everyone on Midgard has to offer primalux through the Descent
because of it. Or else we will lose our powers... wither and die.
“Fuck,” Hunt muttered. Bryce still didn't look at him.

Not for Tharion, Baxian, or Sendes, who were all gaping in absolute terror.
Only the Ocean Queen didn't seem surprised.

Realizing, Bryce said, narrowing his eyes,
“You... you knew that.”
The Ocean Queen shook her head.
— No. But I always wondered why my people still needed to make
the Descent, even down here. But now that you've revealed this terrible
truth, what will you do?
“I think I'll face the Asteri,” Bryce replied. — Banish them from this
world.
- As? —The Queen of the Ocean moved, the coral beads
in her dress tinkling.
Bryce dodged, not willing to tell this stranger everything.
— I suppose an eviction notice wouldn't solve the problem?

The three males around them didn't even blink, but Sendes stood up.
moved.
The Queen of the Ocean said in all words: —
This is absurd. You would need entire armies to
combater os asteri
—Wouldn't you like to provide one? — replied Bryce.
—My people are skilled in water, not on land. But Ophion has strength,
even if there are few left. I believe Lidia Cervos brought them together
the other day, with devastating consequences. But I still haven't been
informed of how many survived the mission.
Bryce asked the queen,
“So you work with Ophion?”
— We help each other when we can... I shelter her agents, if they can get
here. But Ophion is as prejudiced against us as a Vanir is against a mortal.
They think accepting our help is... degrading.
“Many Vanir have helped Ophion over the years,” he said.

Baxian gently.
Bryce felt his chest tighten as Danika's face came into his mind. If Danika
couldn't be there, nothing more appropriate than for her partner to be there.
— And Ophion resents them all — said Commander Sendes, still standing
next to the door. — We would need a solid bond between us to start
negotiations on the unification of the armies.
Hunt turned to Bryce and asked quietly, “What about

Briggs?”
Her blood ran cold.
— But no fucking way. He will turn on us and kill us. — The former rebel
leader's thin, blank face flashed in her mind, along with those deep blue eyes
that seemed to pierce her.
— She's right — added the Queen of the Ocean, once again crossing her
hands over her belly as if in a portrait of regal bearing. — We need to
recalculate the route.
Bryce said, as calmly as she could,
“Hell will help us.”
The Ocean Queen sneered.
— Do you trust these demons?
— I trust. — Faced with the ruler's raised eyebrows, Bryce continued, his
jaw clenched: — Hell has known all this for millennia. And they tried to help us
in every way. Free us. That's what they were trying to do during the First Wars.
Once again, his friends were silent.

But the Ocean Queen snorted in disbelief.
— Did you learn that in this other world too?
— Yes. — Bryce kept his tone calm, refusing to fall for the provocation.
—Do you trust Hell enough to open the Crack of Hell wide open?
North and allow its armies to pass?
— If it's our only chance to defeat the asteri...
— You would trade one evil for another.
Bryce couldn't stop the starlight from pulsing beneath his skin, condensing
and sharpening into that thing that could cut through stone.
— I wouldn't say that the Princes of Hell are bad, since, all these years,
they refused to let the Asteri win.
When they went out of their way to try to help us, even though they had to
pay a price for it. Hell owes us nothing, but they are so convinced of the
importance of ridding the universe of asteri that they have dedicated
themselves to it for thousands of years. I would say it is a pretty strong
commitment.
The Queen of the Ocean seemed to grow by almost two inches. She
He pointed his chin at Hunt.
— Your partner has hunted demons for centuries... seen their brutality
and bloodlust up close. What do you have to say about their supposed
altruism?
Hunt squared his shoulders, unshakable. Bryce's throat tightened at the
sight, at the knowledge, even before he began to speak, that he would be by
her side.
— I have some difficulty accepting it, even more so after they destroyed
Lunathion this spring, but if Bryce trusts them, I trust them too. Plus, it's not
like we have a lot of options.
Bryce spared him from delving into the subject: —
There's one more thing.
They all turned to her. Hunt, at least, had the good sense to look nervous.
Bryce kept his gaze fixed on the Ocean Queen as he said, “We need to
go to Avallen.”
- Why? — demanded the Queen of the Ocean. The tone of his voice
seemed to contain a tsunami within it.
— I have some research I need to do in your archives that could help our
cause. — At least there was some truth in that. — About the First Wars and
the involvement of Hell.
Okay, that last part was a lie. But she wouldn't explain what
I really wanted to search on that mist-shrouded island.
The Queen of the Ocean spoke slowly:
— I don't remember becoming a ferry service. Do you think my city ship is
at your disposal?
— Do you want to win this war or not?
It was possible to feel the shock that hit the room after those words. Hunt
tensed, preparing for a physical confrontation.
But Bryce emitted starlight as he said,

“Look, I know nothing is free. But damn, let's open the game here. Tell us
what your price is. You have strived for years to help people, working to bring
down the asteri. So why are you making everything so difficult when we finally
have a chance to win?
“I'm starting to get bored,” said the Ocean Queen. — I didn't come here to
take orders from an impostor queen.
“You can call me whatever you want,” Bryce replied, “but the longer we
wait to take action, the easier it will be for Rigelus and the rest of the Asteri to
take action against us.
— Everything is so urgent for young people.
— Yes, I understand, but...
— I didn't finish talking.
Bryce hid his expression of astonishment as the Ocean Queen
observed.
- You are young. Idealistic. And inexperienced.
— Don't forget that I'm not very qualified and I never dress appropriately.
The female gave a warning look. Bryce raised his hands in mock surrender.
The Ocean Queen let out a long sigh.

— I don't know you, Bryce Danaan, and everything I've seen so far
wouldn't put you in the category of a reliable ally. My people have managed
to escape the influence of the Asteri for millennia... to remain safe here,
fighting them as best they can.
we can. And yet you tell me that even here we are not beyond their reach.
Even here, in my domain, the asteri parasite infects us all.
"I'm sorry to have been the bearer of bad news," Bryce said,
but would you prefer if I hid it from you?
- Being sincere? I don't know. — The Queen of the Ocean studied her
hand, a striped sea snake coiled like a living bracelet, black and white.
Poisonous as Hell. The governor asked, her voice calm: — Have you ever
thought about an evacuation?
Bryce stared at her.
- Where? There is no place on Midgard, except perhaps this ship, that is
not under their control. —Avallen was in theory protected by her mists, yes,
but King Morven also bowed before the asteri.
The queen raised her head.

—To the fae homeworld.
Hunt stirred, wings rustling.
— You mean leave this planet for good?
The Queen of the Ocean did not take her eyes off Bryce as she
replied: — Yes. Using the Horn, allow as many as you can pass and then
seal the path forever.
Horror churned inside her.
— And what... abandon the rest here? To be enslaved by the asteri and
served as food? — She wouldn't be better than Silene.
The Queen of the Ocean asked: —

Isn't it better to free some than to let everyone die?
Hunt chuckled softly, approaching Bryce as he said to the Ocean Queen:
- You can not be serious. Who the fuck would be chosen to come? Your
people? Our families? In what universe is this fair?
Sitting at the conference table, Baxian nodded in agreement, but Tharion

remained as still as a stone.
Perhaps he didn't want to attract the queen's attention or wrath again.
Cowardly asshole. But Bryce suppressed his disgust. She needed all the
allies she could get.
— I don't say it's fair — said the Queen of the Ocean,
stroking the sea snake on his wrist — but it may be all that is necessary.
Bryce swallowed hard to ease the dryness in his mouth.
— I came back here to help everyone, not to abandon them to the mercy
of the asteri.
—Maybe Urd sent you to that other world to
define whether it could be a safe haven. Have you ever stopped to think about it?
Bryce exploded:
— What's all this for, then? The stealth, the boats, the Ophion contacts?
Why do all this if, in the end, you just want to escape the asteri?
Eyes blacker than Fossa Melinoë pinned her in place.

— Don't you dare question my dedication, girl. I fought and sacrificed
for this world when no one else would.
Once, my kingdom was vaster than you can imagine... but the Asteri came
and entire islands withered into the sea in despair, taking with them the
very heart of this world. The very hearts of mermaids and mermen too. If
there's anyone here who understands how useless it is to face the asteri,
it's me.
Bryce tensed.
— Wait... were you here before the asteri? Were the mermaids and
mermen here? I thought only humans lived on Midgard back then.
The Ocean Queen's expression seemed more distant as she sank into
memories.
— They had the land... we had the seas. Our people only met once in
a while, which gave rise to human legends about sea creatures. — A wistful
smile, then his eyes focused on Bryce, sharp and calculating. — But yes,
we have always been here. Midgard has always had magic, as magic is
inherent in all nature. The Asteri just didn't deign to recognize this.
Bryce saved that information for later.

- All good. You've won the prize for the longest sufferer on Midgard.
Still, you have no right to jump to the
front of the Midgard Evacuation queue. — Hunt touched her shoulder

lightly, a gentle warning. But Bryce ignored him and placed his hands flat
on the table, leaning forward to come face to face with the Ocean Queen.
— I refuse to open a gate like that. I will not help condemn the majority of
the people of Midgard while a few set off to be happy elsewhere.
The sea snake on the Ocean Queen's wrist hissed at Bryce.

Yet her owner's face remained as cold as the northern ice floes.
— You will change your mind when your friends and loved ones
start to die around them.
“Don't you dare condescend to her,” Hunt growled at the queen.
Sendes cleared her throat, trying to snap them out of this mess, but all
Bryce could hear was a roaring in her ears, all she could see was blinding
white in the corners of her vision...
“You're a coward,” Bryce shot at the Ocean Queen. — You hide behind
your power. AND a coward.
The ship shook, as if the sea itself was angry.
But the Queen of the Ocean replied:
— Against all my instincts, I will take you and yours to Avallen, as
requested. Consider this my last gift.
Bryce clenched his teeth so hard his jaw hurt.

— But when you fail in whatever rebellion you think you can engineer
— added the Queen of the Ocean in a farewell tone, walking towards the
door and leaving a trail of water in her wake — when you realize that I'm
right and that you run away It's the best option, I ask only this in exchange
for my services: take as many of my people as you can.
Bryce couldn't help but be impressed by the fact that Hunt, Tharion, and Baxian
had endured in silence until they returned to a room that barely accommodated
all of them, let alone their egos. She would certainly have a hell of a time there.
But as soon as the door was closed, absolute chaos reigned.

“What the fuck…” Hunt exploded.
— Are you okay... — she began.
—The fae homeworld? — Tharion demanded to know at the same time.
tempo que Baxian riu.
— That was epic.
Tharion sank into one of the bunks. His skin was more
paler than usual.
— Only you to face the Queen of the Ocean, Legs.
Baxian said to the merman:
— Confined to the ship, huh?
Tharion shuddered.
— I'm fucked.
Bryce turned to Hunt, who was leaning against the door he had closed. She
raised her eyebrows at her partner, at his too calm expression. I knew that look.
He was, without a doubt,
wondering when he could kick everyone out and fuck her until they were both
exhausted.
Her toes twitched inside her sneakers and she gave him a wink. Hunt rolled
his eyes, one corner of his mouth turning up.
But she didn't fail to notice the darkness that now clouded his gaze.
Whatever happened while she was gone also left a mark on the inside.
But they would talk about that later. Bryce asked, "Where's
Ruhn?"
“With Lidia,” Hunt said, his voice calm.
— Lidia?
Baxian nodded, sitting next to Tharion, his black wings
shining like raven feathers.
— Yes. She got us out of there. She's, um... a little screwed up.
Ruhn is taking care of her.
Bryce felt a tightness in his chest.
- She goes...
Before Bryce could finish, the door opened. The lightning
of Hunt formed an instant, crackling wall before her.
But Bryce let out an exclamation of joy when he saw Ruhn
panting at the door, his brother's eyes wide with shock.
Then they were hugging and laughing, and so much joy emanated from
her that her starlight intensified, causing sharp shadows in the cramped room.
“Bryce,” he said, the smile and pride in his voice making her throat catch.
She grabbed her brother's hand, unable to speak, but then looked down at his
arms.
The tattoos had turned into thin lines. As if the
his skin had been opened so deeply...
His starlight went out.
“Ruhn,” she gasped.
“I'm whole,” Ruhn said, and looked at Baxian. - Again.
"I don't want to know what that look means," Bryce replied.
while Baxian winced, apologizing.
"And you don't," Hunt agreed, slipping an arm around her shoulders and
guiding her to the opposite bunk, where Baxian and Tharion were sitting. He
sat close enough for his thigh to touch hers, and even went so far as to place
a wing over hers. As if he never wanted to let her out of his sight again.
She breathed in his scent, his warmth, over and over again. The most things
wonderful things in the universe.
Ruhn blinked at Bryce, as if he wasn't convinced she was actually there.
— I'm not hallucinating, right? he asked.

“No.” Bryce patted the bed next to her.
But Ruhn remained near the door, his face serious.
— I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I can't stay long.
- What happened? Baxian asked.

— Lidia woke up — announced Ruhn — and, oh... she had some
surprises to share.
***
“So,” Hunt said to Ruhn in stunned silence five minutes later. — Your
girlfriend has... children.
Bryce's mind was racing with everything that had been revealed by his
brother.
Ruhn just gave Hunt a baleful look. Message given:
without provocations. She let out a low whistle.
— How the hell did Lidia hide all of this? When did she have these
children?
Baxian said darkly, “I
think the right question is whether they are from Pollux.”
— They didn't have wings — said Ruhn tensely — but that doesn't mean
say nothing.
- But she is OK? asked Bryce. She owed everything to that one
female. All. If I could do anything to help her...
“She's sleeping again,” Ruhn explained. - I think that

running up the stairs exhausted her.
— I think he was able to run earlier just because of the adrenaline —
reflected Tharion.
Ruhn's eyes went cloudy with worry, so Bryce guessed Hunt did him a big
favor by changing the subject. He turned to her.
— Well, let's listen. How the fuck did you end up on this ship?
How did you find us?
She understood the need to distract Ruhn and said:
— I already told you: I teleported. — She met Hunt's eyes, seeing the love
and pain present there, and said softly: — You are my home, Hunt. Our love
extends across the stars and across worlds, remember? — She smiled slowly.
— I will always find you.
He swallowed hard, no doubt remembering when he had said those exact

words to her before Bryce had jumped through the Gate of the Eternal Palace.
But he looked away as if he couldn't bear it and asked, "Where did you teleport
from?"
All is well then. She would give him time to resolve his issues.
— From my dear daddy's house. Where did he think I was?

holding him hostage.
- He found? — Ruhn demanded.
Bryce shrugged.
This time it was Hunt who helped her.
— Can you explain what you said to the Queen of the Ocean? Of the
parasites in the water and asteri?
—What else is there to be said? They infected the waters of Midgard with it.
It's in all of us. They force us to make the Descent, so that our power is not
sucked away.
- What? said Ruhn, frightened.
Bryce sighed. And he explained everything again.
But this time he explained everything — from the beginning. The arrival in
the other world, the time she was trapped in the dungeon. How you escaped
and walked through the tunnels with Azriel and Nesta. What he learned in
that secret chamber: from the world of the fae, from the daglan, from Theia,
Fionn and Pelias, from Silene and Helena, from the help of Hell. Silene's
claim to power and her own starlight was different since then. Then the
meeting with Vesperus and the theft of Azriel's Truth Revealer.
It took him an hour to explain everything, even though he omitted any

mention of the Masquerade or the Treasures. The less people knew about it,
the better. When she got to the part where she was going to explain how she
was able to focus on Hunt and appear next to him, Athalar's eyes shone, so
full of love that she felt a tightness in her chest.
Ruhn was silent the entire time, although her cell phone vibrated several
times as she spoke. She had a feeling he was getting updates from someone
about Lidia's condition.
Hunt leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs.
He took a long sigh.
- OK. That was... a lot. I need a moment.
Bryce absently rubbed his chest, the eight-pointed star scar there. She
said softly: — Tell me what happened
here. Please.
***
When they finished talking, it was Bryce who needed a minute.
Ten minutes, actually.

She left the room with a silent “excuse me” and was then in the
runner, with my stomach upset, my breathing heavy...
“Bryce,” Hunt said a few steps back, his boots clicking on the tiled floor.
She couldn't turn around to face him. I had abandoned them all. How
much they had suffered...
“Quinlan,” he appealed. He grabbed her elbow to make her stop. The
hallway was empty, the window looked out onto the overwhelming
dark sea.
“Bryce,” he called again, turning her gently. She couldn't help but cry on
her face.
In an instant, Hunt was there, wrapping her in his arms, wings folded
around them, surrounding her with the familiar, inviting scent of rain on cedar.
— Xiiiu — he whispered, and she realized that she had started to cry, the
impact of everything that had happened to him, to her, making her break down.
Bryce slid her arms around his waist, holding on tight.
— I was so worried...
- I am fine.
She studied his face, his look optimistic.
— You can't... stay well in those dungeons, Hunt.
- I Survived.
But the shadows darkened his face as he said this. He tilted his head,
resting his forehead against hers. That hateful halo touched her skin.
“It was close,” he admitted. She hugged him, shaking. — Thinking about
you kept me going.
The effect of the words was like a punch to her heart.
— You also made me move forward.
- Oh yes? — The love in his voice threatened to break Bryce's heart. — I
knew my stunning beauty would come in handy one day.
She giggled. He raised his hand to his face and traced its strong, beautiful
lines.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered, and the pain in his words left her shaken.
- Whereby?
He closed his eyes, swallowing hard.
— For getting us into this mess.
She walked away.
- You? Did you get us into this mess?
He opened his eyes again, his gaze as dark as the sea beyond the wall of
windows behind them.
— I should have warned you, I should have made us think twice before
getting into this nightmare...
She was open-mouthed.
— You warned me. You warned us all. — She cupped his cheek. — The
only ones to blame for all this are the asteri, Hunt.
— I should have tried harder. None of us would be in this

situation...
— You can stop right there — she said vehemently, placing the palm of
her hand on his chest. — Do I regret all the pain and suffering you went
through? By Solas, for sure. I can barely think about it. But do I regret the
attitude we took, the attitude we are going to take? No, never. And you
couldn't have stopped me from starting that fight. — She frowned. — I thought
we agreed on what needed to be done.
He became serious.
— We agreed... agreed.
— You don't seem too sure about that.
— You weren't the one who saw your friends being tortured.
She knew, looking into his eyes, that he regretted his words the moment
he finished speaking. Still, that didn't stop her from being hurt, it didn't deflect
the stones that hit her heart. It didn't stop her from seething with rage.
But she looked at the dark ocean through the glass, all that
death just inches away. She said quietly:
— I had to live with the fear of perhaps never returning home, never
seeing you again, wondering if you were still alive at all times. — She glanced
at Hunt in time to see the coldness that passed over his face. I hadn't seen
that coldness in a long, long time.
The face of Umbra Mortis.

His voice was also icy as he said, “It's a good thing
we're both alive, then.”
It wasn't the end of the conversation. Not even close. But that wasn't what
she wanted to talk about. Not at that moment. Then she replied in a soft
voice, moving away from the windows on the wall:
— Yes. That's good.

— So are we really going to Avallen? — Hunt asked carefully, leaving the
subject aside, the Umbra Mortis expression fading. —Are you ready to deal
with King Morven?
Bryce nodded, crossing his arms.
— We won't be able to do anything with the asteri if I don't find out what
this portal to nowhere is and how it can be used to kill them all. The Autumn
King hinted that the Avallen Archives contained precious information regarding
the blades. And as for Morven... I just spent a few days with an asshole Fae
King. Morven won't be worse than that.
Hunt stirred, wings closed tight.

— I agree with the plan and all that, but... do you really think there's
something in the Avallen Archives that hasn't been discovered yet?
— If there's any place on Midgard we can find clues, it's there. The heart
of all that is Starry. And it was there that the Autumn King said he read about
the portal to nowhere.
— I'll take any chance we get, but I repeat: King Morven is not the
friendliest.
Bryce looked down at his chest, the star-shaped scar barely visible above
the hem of his T-shirt.
— He will receive us.
— Why are you so sure?
She reached into the inside pocket of her black sports jacket. With a
flourish, she produced her father's notebook.
— Because I have the Autumn King's dark little secrets.
Lidia Cervos looked at her children. Her newt foster parents sat on either
side of them, watching her with hunter's eyes. Davit and Renki. She had
only discovered their names at that moment. But judging by the way they
carried themselves, as if they were ready to attack at any moment, their
boys had been well looked after. Beloved.
Director Kagani sat across from them at her desk, her hands clasped
in front of her. The silence was palpable. Lidia had no idea how to break
it.
She had no idea who she herself was, sitting there in one of the Deep
Freighter's dark blue tactical jumpsuits. A much more comfortable uniform
than the one I used to wear, designed for an aquatic lifestyle. No sign of
the silver necklace or the imperial medals, or any of the trappings of that
false life he had created.
She woke up again a few hours after passing out, in a different

hospital bed, without tubes and machines. She hoped that the medwitch
who had helped her out of bed assumed that her legs were shaking due
to persistent weakness.
No matter how much the feeling persisted at that moment, sitting in
front of her children.
Brann, golden-haired and blue-eyed, wearing a forest green T-shirt

and jeans with holes in the knees, held her gaze.
He didn't look away from his mother like Actaeon, with dark hair and
golden eyes, did. But it was to Actaeon, in a black t-shirt and matching
jeans, that she spoke, softening her voice as much as she could:
— I have... a lot to tell you. For both of you.
Actaeon looked at his adoptive father on his left. Davit. The male
with brown skin and a dark blue officer's uniform nodded encouragingly.
Lidia felt a tightness in her chest. She had chosen that. Of course he
had no choice but to accept, but he still
like this...
She looked at Brann, whose eyes glowed with an inner light.
Fearless; reckless. A born leader. She had seen that expression on his
face before, even when he was a baby.
Brann asked, "So
what... do we have to move in with you now?"
Actaeon looked at his parents, alarmed. Lidia suppressed her hurt
because of that reaction, but replied:
— No.
Was all she could say.
Renki, with fair skin and dark hair, assured Actaeon: — This
doesn't change anything. You will stay with us. And besides, your
mother has to take care of some things. — He was dressed in a navy
blue ship's doctor's jumpsuit. I must have rushed home from work.
Brann raised his eyebrows, as if he were going to ask something,

but Actaeon said, his voice low: —
She is not our mother.
The words hit her core like a physical blow.
Davit said, a little brusquely:
— Yes, she is, Ace.
And a kind of jealousy took over her because of the nickname. The
dark-haired son raised his head and...
Pure power shone in his eyes. She had seen that expression on his
face before—a long, long time ago. Pensive and silent, while Brann was
all fire.
Lidia couldn't help but smile despite the words that hurt her. She said
to Actaeon, to Brann:
— You've been the same way since you were kids.
Brann smiled back at her. Actaeon does not.
Director Kagani interrupted: —
We are not going to put labels on anything or anyone right now. Lidia
actually has... a job that will prevent her from settling down at the moment,
and even when that happens, let's talk together to decide what's best for
you. And your parents.
Lidia met Renki's gaze. The dominion and protection in it. And he also
saw the plea beneath everything. Please don't take my children away from
me.
It was the same feeling he had once conveyed to the Queen of the
Ocean. An appeal that had led nowhere.
Those were her children, the babies that made her change the course
of her life, but that had been raised by those two males.
Actaeon and Brann were their sons. Not of blood, but of love and affection.
They protected them and raised them well.
It was the best she could have asked for—for the boys to have such a
strong bond with their parents that it went beyond any hope she had
entertained.
Then Lidia said, even with part of her soul crumbling: — I have no
intention of taking you away from your parents. — Her heart thundered,
and she knew everyone could hear it. But she lifted her chin anyway. — I
don't know when my work will end, if that day will ever come. But if that
happens, if you allow me to come back here... I would love to see you
again. — She looked at the twins' parents. - All of you.
Renki nodded with gratitude in his eyes. Davit put his hand on the
Actaeon's shoulder.
Burn these:
— You mean the work you do... as a Doe?
Lidia looked at Director Kagani in alarm. She made them promise
that they wouldn't tell the boys who and what she was...
“We have television here,” Brann explained, sensing her surprise and
consternation. — We recognize you today. No
We had no idea you were our biological mother until now, but we know what you
do. For who you work.
— I work for the Queen of the Ocean — Lidia replied. — For Ophion.
“You serve the Asteri,” Actaeon said coldly. - You

kill rebels for them.
“Ace,” Davit called again.
But Actaeon did not back down. He looked at the twin and
demanded: — Do you accept this? Do you accept her? Do you know what
she does to people?
Fire flashed in Brann's gaze once again.
— Yes, asshole, I accept.
— Watch your mouth — warned Renki.
Actaeon ignored him and pressed Brann: —
Her boyfriend is the Hammer.
— Pollux is not my boyfriend — Lidia intervened, stiffening her lips.
back.
“The guy she catches, then,” Actaeon replied.
— Actaeon — reprimanded Renki.
Director Kagani said, in a repressive tone: — That's
enough now, Actaeon. — She sighed, looking at Lidia. - AND
Maybe that's enough for all of us for today.
Actaeon laughed humorlessly.
— I'm just getting started. — He pointed to his brother. — You want to act
like a loyal puppy, good luck. He'll get along well with her feral wolves.
— You're an idiot, you know that? said Brann.

— Boys — said Davit — that's enough. — The male made a face at Lidia. - I
am really sorry about that. They tend to be more polite.
Lidia nodded with a lump in her throat. But he said to Actaeon: — I
understand. In truth.
She stood up, the weight of their gazes threatening to make her fall to her feet.
knees. But she said to Davit and Renki,
“Thank you for looking after them. For loving them both.
Her eyes were burning and something huge threatened to explode in her
chest, so Lidia didn't say anything else before leaving the office.
director, closing the door as she passed. She waved goodbye to the administrative
assistant sitting on the other side of the door, then walked out into the hallway,
panting, fighting the implosion...
— Lidia — said a male voice behind her, and she turned around and came
across Renki.
There was pain on his face.
— I'm sorry it happened that way. Davit and I have discussed this possibility
for years and never planned for it to turn out this way. — He ran his hand through
his dark hair. — I don't want you to think that we, well... tried to turn the boys
against you.
She shook her head.
— That never even crossed my mind.
Renki stirred, his black work boots scraping with noise.
smoothness on the tile floor.
— We didn't know who you were either. Until today. We knew that their mother
worked undercover for Ophion, but we didn't know to what extent she was
undercover.
— Only Director Kagani and the Ocean Queen knew.
— I'd love to hear the whole story, if you have permission to
tell. Davit would love it too.
She swallowed hard.
- Another day who knows.
— Yes... you should rest. — He grimaced, examining her. — I'm, uh, a doctor
here. He was even on the team that took care of his recovery. I'm glad to see
you're standing
new.
She nodded, not knowing what to say.
Renki continued:
— Davit commands one of the reconnaissance submersibles, so every now
and then he's gone for days or weeks at a time... Sometimes it's just me and the
boys — he added. — Well, me, my parents and Davit, who help a lot. They love
boys.
Grandparents. Something the boys wouldn't have had otherwise.

- You have brothers? — she asked the male.
Renki nodded.
— I have two brothers and Davit has a sister. Therefore, there are several
cousins running around. The boys grew up with them.
She gave a discreet smile.
—Was it difficult for them to live here without being merfolk?

“Sometimes,” said Renki. — When they were little, they didn't understand
why they couldn't jump in the water with the other children.
They threw a lot of tantrums. Plus Brann. — A soft, loving laugh. — But Actaeon
is a child genius. He invented helmet and fins for the two of them to wear so
they could keep up with the others.
Even in the depths.
She felt pride blooming in her chest. — That's why
you call him Ace, someone very good at it.
he does?
The tire is flat.

— Yes. He takes things apart and puts them back together again, in a more
smart and fun, since she was a baby.
“I remember that,” she said softly. —, He always
took apart all the toys I gave him... — She stopped talking.
But Renki's smile remained.

— Still dismantling. It's the only downside to living on this ship. Principal
Kagani gets the best teachers she can, but we are limited in the type of higher
education we can offer him.
— E Fire?
Renki chuckled.
— Brann is... so, he's really in that style where the description matches the
product. A natural athlete... fearless. He gets angry quickly and laughs even
faster. He does well in school, but is now more interested in hanging out with
his friends. It's the athlete stereotype. We like to let them both be the way they
are.
“They're like the sun and the moon, then,” she said in a calm voice.
Renki's smile softened.
— Yes. That's exactly it. — He reached into his pocket and took out a
business card. — Here are my contacts, in case you need help.
something. If you want to talk to me, or Davit, or if you have any questions...
Lidia took the card from him, nodding in gratitude, without

be able to find words.
Tire disse:
— Ace may have said some… not nice things there, but don't think for a
moment that he didn't want to know about you all this time. They both have
some vague memories of you, I think.
Director Kagani says they were very young at the time, but I swear they
remember. I was once told you had hair like Brann and eyes like Ace. Since
they only found out who you were today, now I can believe it.
— Very kind of you to tell me that.

Renki held her gaze, with sadness and something more.
— I'll talk to Ace for you. But for now, give it time.
She tilted her head.

- Thanks.
Lidia didn't trust herself to say anything more before leaving.
turn around, walking down the hall.
She was almost at the stairs, having almost managed to suppress the tears
that threatened to well up inside her, when hurried feet shuffled behind her.
She slowed down and stopped in front of the stairwell door, without opening it.
Only when the messenger held out a folded piece of seaweed did Lidia turn
around.
The messenger, a young merman who looked at her with a mixture of
curiosity and caution, announced:
“From His Majesty of the Deep,” he said, before walking away.
to wait for a response.
Lidia unfolded the wide, flat sheet of seaweed. She read what
was inside and nodded to the messenger: — I'll go straight to
her.
He didn't allow himself to look back, at the hallway, at his children behind
the office door, halfway there, before climbing the stairs. But when the door
slammed, the sound echoed throughout his being.
Five minutes later and ten floors below, Lidia found herself facing
the ruler of the seas. The Queen of the Ocean stood by a wall of
windows overlooking the eternal darkness of the deep ocean, her black
hair flowing around her as if she were actually underwater.
It had been fifteen years since Lidia had last seen her. Falara
with her for the last time.
Just like back then, the Ocean Queen matched Lidia's chest in terms
of height, but Lidia straightened her spine amidst the power that filled
the room.
She had spent decades enduring the presence of the asteri. This
female's power, no matter how great it was... she too would resist.
Maybe that's why the Queen of the Ocean chose her, so many years
ago: Lidia could look at her and not tremble.
“I heard you were reunited with your children,” said the Queen.
of the Ocean without turning around.
Lidia tilted her head anyway.

— I thank Ogenas for such a gift.
— I don't remember giving permission for him to abandon his post.
Lidia lifted her chin, keeping her breathing steady as the Ocean
Queen slowly turned around. His eyes were black like the ocean outside.
The Queen of the Ocean

continued: — I also don't remember giving authorization to bring all
these fugitives onto one of my city ships.
Lidia remained silent, aware that she had not been given permission
to speak.
The Ocean Queen blinked a few times. At least it had
was pleased with this small demonstration of obedience.
—Our work depends on our secrecy…depends on whether the Asteri
consider us too vague a threat to bother investigating. We avoided the
omega boats and offered refuge to a few Ophion agents. Nothing
beyond that. No attacks, no direct conflict. But now you have given
reasons for
asteri began to wonder what, exactly, swims at these depths. What am I doing down
here.
When Lidia didn't respond, the Ocean Queen waved her hand. Permission to
speak.
— I had no choice — Lidia explained, keeping her eyes fixed on the ceramic
floor. — We could not risk losing allies so valuable to our cause. But I can assure
you that before my departure, Rigelus and the others still did not consider you and
your people a priority.
— Maybe not — pondered the Queen of the Ocean, standing a few centimeters
taller, knocking almost all the air out of the room. — But now the Asteri's most
wanted enemies are on this ship. It's a matter of days before the mystics find one
us.
— Then it will be a relief when they all leave for Avallen tomorrow.
The insolent words were spoken before Lidia could suppress them. She heard
the news from a group of agents who were talking to each other as they passed her
— and who moved away from Lidia when they realized who was walking down the
corridor towards them. But the Queen of the Ocean just smiled. A shark's smile.
— And you — said the ruler with threatening softness — will leave tomorrow too.
Every word seemed to hit Lidia's head. Despite the years

of training and self-control, all he could say was: — My children...
— You've seen them. — The ruler’s sharp teeth gleamed.

—Consider yourself truly blessed by Ogenas for this. Now, resume your duties.
The unbearable and devastating departure had almost destroyed Lidia

fifteen years ago. And now...
— You hate me — said the Queen of the Ocean, seeming delighted by this.
Lidia suffocated any despair, any challenge, at the core of her being. His
feelings didn't matter. Only Actaeon and Brann mattered.
So her tone was bland and emotionless when she spoke. As empty and soulless as
it had been all those years with the asteri, with Pollux.
— Tell me what I should do.
***
Ruhn paced the room, grinding his teeth until they hurt. Bryce had gone to his people's
home world. And their father had held her hostage. Okay, she had planned this,
but...
He only felt the weight of all this information later, when he

separated.
Maybe it would be good to hit the gym for a bit. Take out some of the anger that
raged in your body, canceling out the joy of having seen Bryce. To ignore the desire to
find his father and erase him from the land of Midgard for what he tried to do to Bryce.
Because Ruhn wasn't there to stop it, to protect her from him.
He unlaced his boots and took off his long-sleeved shirt, making his way to the small
closet at the opposite end of the room, where the clothes and sneakers that had been
provided for him were kept. A ten-mile run on the treadmill followed by a ton of weight
lifting would help. Maybe he was lucky and someone was at the gym to be his training
partner.
Ruhn grabbed a white t-shirt, carrying it with him as he opened the door, intending to
put it on as he headed towards the gym...
He came face to face with Lidia.

Her scent hit him, confusing his senses, and he took a step back to flee.
— Hey — he said, then blurted out: — You woke up.

She lifted her chin, her eyes a little glassy.
- Yes.
Ruhn twisted the shirt in his hands. She was wearing one of
ship's aquatic costumes that left little to the imagination. I might not have explored her
body — at least not on this plane — but
their souls had certainly been together, and he had no idea what the situation
was between them.
“I, uh, was about to go to the gym,” he announced, and lifted his shirt.
Sweaty palms. - How are you feeling?
- Stronger. — It wasn't exactly an answer. She nodded toward a door

across the hall. — I was transferred to that room.
Ruhn walked down the hall, closing the door behind him. When he did so,
her scent enveloped him, dizzying, intoxicating and so seductive that he began
to salivate; and then he saw the ice in her eyes.
He took a step back, raising his eyebrows.
— And are these appropriate quarters for Agent Daybright?
Lidia looked at him without finding any amusement, without giving any
impression that they had shared their souls. Two passing agents bypassed
them. He heard some of their whispers as they headed to the elevator at the
end of the hall. There she is.
Holy shit, it's her.
Lidia ignored them.
The elevator opened into the hallway and Ruhn couldn't help but think
about the last time he and Lidia got into one of those, when she put a bullet in
the Falcon's head and killed those feral wolves.
He then had a frank and pleading look on his face. That had changed.
He couldn't help but ask, "Have you
seen your children yet?"
— Yes. — She put a key in the lock.
— How... ah... how was it?
She didn't look at him.
— I'm a stranger to them. — Not a hint of emotion in the words.
— What are adoptive parents like?

The lock clicked.
— A nice couple of mermen.
What happened? Who was the father? How did you get here?
He wanted to know so many things. How did she manage to keep it
hidden? Her family...
Damn, her family. Those boys were the male heirs of the Enador lineage.
Hypaxia was their aunt.
But Lidia finally turned to look at him, saying in a distant way: — Everything
I did was for them,
you know.
He felt a tightness in his chest.
— For your children?
She studied her hands, the imposing ruby ring on one finger.
— I haven't seen them since they were a year and a half. Not even
a photo.
But she had recognized them at once today. He knew what grade they
would be in, he remembered where the school was on the ship and he ran
straight there.
He remained at his door. For a second, he allowed himself to look at her
face. The almost unreal perfection, the light of her golden eyes, the shine of
her hair. The most beautiful female he had ever seen, and yet it didn't even
matter. None of that mattered when it came to her.
He asked: —
What happened?
- What difference does? she asked, cautious and sharp. — I thought you
didn't want to hear my drama, as you said.
Well, he deserved that one.

“Look,” he said tensely. —, You can't expect me to discover who
you are, what you are, and accept everything right away, okay?
I'm still processing all this shit.
— What is there to process? I am who I am and I did what I did. Having
children doesn't erase that.
All good. She was pissed off. — It's
almost like you want me to resent you.
— I wanted you to listen — she said — but you didn't want to. And now that
I fit into some kind of sad and acceptable female story, you're willing to listen
to me.
- This has nothing to do. — Damn, she and Bryce would get along. The
fact that they were both on this ship... Part of him wanted to run and get lost.
to hide.
Lidia continued:
— You would have listened if I had no other story than
realizing what was right and wanting to fight for it? To do whatever was
necessary to ensure that good prevailed against tyranny? Or does the
fact that I'm a mother somehow make my choices more palatable to you?
— Most guys jump the gun when they find out that the female they
like has children.
His eyes flashed with cold fire.
— A beautiful indicator of the strength that men have.
— You seemed to really like my strength, dear.
She huffed, turning towards the door. Dismissing him.
Ruhn let his temper flare.
— So what's the drama, Lidia?
She turned back slowly. The face was a mask of total
contempt as he said, before closing the door in his face: —
You don't deserve to hear it.
Ithan was carefully arranging a figurine of Cthona giving birth on all

fours—the planet Midgard crowning between her legs—when Jesiba's
phone rang. The screeching sound broke the silence, but Ithan's
soleball reflexes prevented him from dropping the fragile marble.
- What it was.
Even Ithan's keen lupine hearing couldn't distinguish the person
on the other end of the line.
- Beauty.
She hung up, looking at Ithan instantly. He carefully nestled the
statue into a box, the protective foam rustling.
- What happened? he asked carefully.

- Come with me. — She stood up and crossed the room with
surprising speed, considering her four-inch dark blue heels. She
hadn't bothered to change her hair to its usual short length, and the
sight of her golden curls bouncing was...strange. The same happened
with her face, without the usual makeup. With her current appearance
she could only be a few years older than Ithan.
She stopped at the door and pointed to the wall adjacent to the bookcase.
— Bring this with you. It's loaded.

Ithan looked at the gun there. He had found out about what Bryce had
done to Micah using that gun.
But Ithan didn't hesitate as he crossed the room and grabbed the Godslayer
Rifle from the wall.
***
Jesiba led Ithan through a labyrinth of dark stones, lit by crackling golden
flames. The hallways were eerily quiet and he realized he had no idea what
time it was. Judging by the silence, he assumed it was the middle of the night.
But in the House of Flame and Shadow, where so many nocturnal predators
lived, this information may not have been so accurate.
And it actually made a difference.

The sounds of a gathering crowd echoed across the stones long before he
reached the round chamber.
The pillars were formed from stalactites and stalagmites that fused together
— he racked his brain and couldn't remember what the name of it was — and,
unlike the other halls, which were elaborate and elegant, the walls were made
of rough stone. The vaulted ceiling was rough and echoed with the murmurs
and conversations of the crowd, too heavy to identify individual words.
People calmed down as Jesiba crossed the arch to enter the room, Ithan
a step behind her, with the famous weapon in hand. It was lighter than he
thought it would be, but he had never held something so electrifying.
The crowd parted to allow Jesiba to pass. She looked straight ahead as
she walked to the center of the room, her dark blue skirt trailing behind her,
her heels clicking in an undulating, purposeful rhythm. If anyone was shocked
by the new hairstyle and lack of makeup, no one dared to say anything. Don't
even keep your eyes fixed on her for long.
But Ithan looked ahead, at what—who—was in the middle of the chamber,

and his heart skipped a beat.
The Astronomer raised a calloused finger and pointed at

Ithan:
“You're dead, thief,” growled the old man.
***
Tharion knew he had a narrow escape. He knew that Bryce's arrival had
spared him from being sent back to Lunathion by the Ocean Queen.
A bounty on your head. Holy shit.

But being confined to the ship... Would that be better than falling into the
hands of the River Queen or the Viper Queen? Confined like
guest, said the Queen of the Ocean. But he knew the truth behind the words.
“Avallen always gave me the creeps,” Flynn said as everyone crowded

around a table in the deck dining room, discussing their arrival on the mist-
shrouded island the next day. At this time of night, every table was full of
people for dinner, the conversations and laughter were so intense that it
made it almost impossible for Tharion to hear his companions. —But Morven
is terrible. I've known him since I was a child and he's a real snake.
Him and the killer twins.

—Killer twins? Athalar asked with a mixture of alarm and amusement,
sitting next to Bryce, with one arm around her waist, his fingers playing with
the ends of her hair.
Tharion knew that even if there had been little space around the table, the
partners would have stayed close.
“A nickname we gave to my distant cousins,” Ruhn said through a mouth
full of bread. — After they joined Cormac in trying to kill us several times in
the Cave of the Princes. — The prince's eyes shone with regret as he spoke
Cormac's name.
Tharion blocked out the image that emerged... of Cormac's final moments,
of running as the fae male immolated himself. He gripped his fork so hard his
knuckles turned white.
But Ruhn continued:
— They can read minds... whether you like them or not. — He

pointed with the half-eaten piece of bread at Bryce. — They won't ask
permission like that guy from the Night Court.
Bryce grimaced.
—Can anyone defend themselves against their abilities?
— Yes — replied Ruhn — but you have to be alert all the time, even
when you can't see them near you. And they obey Morven without
thinking twice.
Bryce examined his nails.
— I love me some good old-fashioned henchmen.
Tharion smiled, loosening his grip on the fork.
But Ruhn shook his head.
—They are not a conventional type of henchman, and Morven is not
the conventional type of asshole. During my Ordeal...
“I know,” Bryce said, picking up some rice, grown in one of the ship's
many hydroponic gardens. — The evil uncle.
You pissed him off, he sent you to the Cave of Princes as punishment,
you showed him who's boss...
“He's Cormac's father,” Declan explained carefully. — Don't forget he
just lost a son and heir.
Tharion looked at his plate of rice and fish, even though his
appetite had disappeared like sea foam on the sand.
— He was quick to disown him — said Lidia Cervos from across the
table.
Tharion nearly fainted from shock when she sat down with them.
But...where else would she sit in the crowded room?
He didn't fail to notice that Ruhn was sitting at the opposite end of
the table.
Lidia added:
—But I will repeat the warning: King Morven only agrees to things
that are advantageous to him. If you want to convince him not to hand
you over to the asteri right away, you need to act in the right way.
certain.
“My plan was to go straight to the archives,” Bryce explained, “without
making any real visits.
— The mists — replied Ruhn — tell him everything. You'll know we've
arrived. And he'll be furious if you... don't pay the tribute.
— Then let's go to the shoes — said Athalar, emptying the glass of water.
The people dining at the other tables looked at their table all the time, with
admiration, dread, curiosity. Everyone in Tharion's group pretended not to
notice.
"And," added Ruhn, shuddering, "females are not
allowed in the files.
Tharion rolled his eyes.
“What a joke,” he muttered.
“Yeah, yeah,” Bryce said, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. — The
Autumnal King made a point of warning me about all these no-female rules.
But unfortunately for Morven, I will
to enter.
Hunt nudged her with one of his gray wings.
— I assume you have some plan up your sleeve and are going to
tell at the worst possible moment.
— I think you meant the coolest moment possible — Bryce said and,
despite being tense, Tharion smiled.
“Notice she didn't answer,” Hunt said to Baxian, his voice somber.
He laughed and replied:

— Danika was just the same.
A current of longing and sadness flowed beneath the Dog Dog's light tone.
Hell. A male who lost his partner. According to rumors, it was worse than
losing your soul. Tharion couldn't decide whether he felt sorry for the male for
his loss or whether he envied him for having been lucky enough to have found
his mate in the first place. He wondered which Baxian would have preferred:
never to have met Danika, or to have their centuries together cut so brutally
short.
Bryce reached across the table and shook the Hellhound's hand, love and
pain written all over his face. Tharion looked away from the similar expression
Baxian gave towards her as he squeezed her hand back. A private and
intimate moment of mourning.
After a moment of silence for the two to mourn

Missing the wolf they both loved, Flynn said:
—Avallen is an old, fucked up place. We need to be quick, and go
although equally fast from that Hell.
Bryce let go of Baxian's hand and said primly, "Research
takes time," Bryce said in a professorial tone.
But she gave up the joke and quickly added: — Besides, I want to visit the
Cave of the Princes.
Tharion had only heard legends about the famous caves.
None of them good.
Ruhn gaped. “And you
think you can do that without even saying hello to Morven?” Females
can't go in there either.
Bryce crossed his arms, leaning into Athalar's side.
— Okay, maybe we'll stop by for some tea.
The brother wasn't buying her attitude.
—The Cave of Princes... why? What does this have to do with the portal
to nowhere thing?
Bryce shrugged, going back to eating. —
That's where Aster always stayed. I think there might be some information
there.
“Again… not much of an answer,” Hunt observed quietly to Baxian.
Tharion suppressed his smile. Even more so when Bryce looked at his
partner. Athalar just kissed his forehead, a relaxed gesture of affection that
made Baxian look away.
Tharion wished he had something to offer the Hellhound, a kind of

comfort. But the gods knew he was far from qualified to offer any kind of
romantic advice. Loss, perhaps—he had learned to live with a hole in his
chest after Lesia was murdered—but he doubted Baxian would want to hear
anyone try to compare the loss of a sister to the loss of a partner.
— It would be better not to stay longer than necessary in Avallen —

insisted Flynn, once again catching Tharion's attention. — I'm telling you,
every time I've been on the island, my magic has been... unhappy.
— For emphasis, a delicate vine wrapped around his hand,
between your fingers. — It literally withers and dies when I'm there.
— That's what the vine did, withering and turning to dust, which
spread over his half-eaten plate of fish and rice. Flynn took a bite
anyway.
“I keep forgetting you have magic,” Bryce said, “but I'll refrain
from making the obvious joke about Avallen's performance issues.
“Thanks,” Flynn muttered, shoving another forkful of food into his

mouth.
“It'll be best to split up when we're there,” Declan said, pushing
aside his own meal. — Some of us can consult the archives, and the
others can go to the Cave of the Princes. We will all be looking for
extra information about Aster and its connection to the dagger.
Looking at the huge window at the back of the mess hall,

overlooking the crushing dark ocean, Tharion said:
—And I will be here, praying to Ogenas that you
find something that will help destroy the asteri with those blades.
Ogenas, Guardian of Mysteries. If there was a god to beg for
knowledge, it was her.
“Files,” said Ruhn, Flynn, and Declan, raising their hands.
Bryce glared at them.
— You idiots. I was counting on one of you to guide us, since
you've already been to the Cave of the Princes. — She turned to
Athalar and Baxian and sighed. — It looks like we just have to explore
there.
“Just so you know,” Ruhn said. —, During our Ordeal, the
three of us took a while to get to the tomb of Pelias and Aster. But
that was also because we were being chased and hunted by evil
spirits, by Cormac and the murderous twins. So you can take a more
direct route... even if the mists try to confuse you at every step. —
Great — said Bryce, but Tharion didn't fail to
notice how his eyes seemed to shine, as if his brother's words
had awakened something.
— And — added Ruhn — there are carvings scattered throughout the

caves, including in the burial chamber. It may take a while for you to find
something. It's best to bring a few days' worth of supplies.
— Understood — said Athalar frowning.

“Fantastic,” muttered Baxian beside him.
Tharion felt a tightness in his chest, realizing what he had said
moments before. He would indeed stay on the ship. As they left.
They would separate the next day. These people that Urd had brought
into his life, that he didn't deserve...
— I'm going with you — warned Lidia. —For Avallen. — She had been
so silent that Tharion had forgotten her presence at the other end of the
table.
Ruhn didn't even look at her as he spoke. Tharion noticed that the
Doe also tried hard not to look at him. Just for Bryce.
- Why? asked Bryce. — You, ah... Your children are on this ship.
Lidia straightened up.

— The Queen of the Ocean made it very clear that if I did not resume
my duties as Agent Daybright, the protection she gave them... would end.
— Everyone looked at her in surprise, but Lidia continued: — The asteri
created a worse type of mec-suit... even worse than the hybrids from a
few weeks ago. This mech-suit no longer requires a pilot to operate it, just
technicians in a distant room. Rigelus ordered the suits to be positioned
on top of Mount Hermon. — A look at Hunt, whose face was unyielding
with the news. — The Queen of the Ocean wants me to learn how to stop
them, but I'm afraid I won't be able to find out much beyond the information
that has already reached us. The costumes are already built and ready to
be released. We can not do anything with it.
“Avallen is in the opposite direction of the Eternal City,” Hunt grumbled.

“We'd be taking you too far north.
Lidia shook her head. —
It's useless to spend my time looking for a way to stop the mec-suits...
A solution that may not even exist. I convinced the Queen
of the Ocean that it would be of greater use if I accompanied you to Avallen

to see what you will discover there.
“So,” said Bryce, “you volunteered to…what, in the
spy for the Ocean Queen? And you're telling us?
She nodded slowly.
“You made her nervous, Bryce Quinlan, and that's not good. But since I
have... connections with your group, she saw the advantage in sending me.
—She finally looked at Ruhn. The fae prince continued to ignore her.
— Do you really think there is nothing that can be done about these new
costumes? asked Bryce. — They look dangerous.
Lidia's face remained solemn.

— To destroy them, it would be necessary to gather a force that marched
to the Eternal City. This strength we don't have. So I'll go with you for now.
Until we figure out how to end this.
A stunned silence fell in the room. Tharion's breath hitched as he thought
about what Lidia was insinuating.
- OK. Great,” Flynn muttered, earning a look.
penetrating from Lidia. — Are you Team Archives or Team Cavernas?
— I'm still going to decide that — Lidia replied coldly. - Remains
to know if you will be able to convince Morven to allow you to enter any of
the places. Even more so if females are prohibited.
“We'll convince him,” Bryce said, flashing a disarming smile. Tharion

didn't miss the suspicious look Hunt threw her way.
Tharion would worry about that later. His friends were leaving. And he
would remain on that ship, under the command of the Queen of the Ocean.
It made no difference whether Bryce claimed him as his subject; there was
no way to face the ruler of the seas.
You wouldn't be surprised if, when you looked down, you saw your chest
falling apart.
But the friends kept talking, and Tharion tried to take advantage
every moment. The complicity, the sounds and rhythms of their voices.
Very soon, it was likely that I would never see them again.
***
“This ship is just a bigger version of the Astronomer's ring,” Sasa said, her
voice calm, floating above the glass conference table.
— This has been killing Malana since we boarded. — And, indeed, there was
no sign of the third goblin.
- She is fine? asked Bryce.
— It will stay when we leave — Rithi replied, admiring her own reflection in
the glass surface of the table. But the pixie suddenly stopped and looked at
Bryce. — When we're outdoors again.
— That's what we came to talk about — Lidia explained, looking between

her sisters from where she was sitting on the other side of the table. — Your
next step.
Bryce had been surprised and a little nervous when Lidia had taken her
aside after dinner and explained her plan. Bryce had a close connection to the
elf community and Lidia needed the triplets to be sent on a crucial task. The
best thing would be for this request to come from someone trustworthy, Corça
insisted.
The elves exchanged glances.

— Our plan was to follow you to Avallen — said Sasa, chin up — unless
you prefer not to have three elves...
“It would be an honor and a joy to have three elves with me,” Bryce said,
hoping his serious tone would prove what he was saying was true. Her heart
had been sinking ever since Lidia had pulled her aside earlier, the memory of
Lehabah's beautiful face shining brightly in her mind. — And, to be honest, you
would be very useful to us there. —In the darkness of the Cave of Princes,
even with Bryce's starlight, three extra flames would be of great help. “But…”
She considered her next words carefully.
Lidia spared her the effort.

— Irithys is free.
The pixies gasped, both lighting up a vibrant orange.
- Free? — Rithi whispered.

— He ran away — Lidia corrected. — I helped her get out of the Asteri
palace, in exchange for help rescuing our friends in the dungeons.
- Where is she now? — Sasa demanded, the flame heating up, changing
color to a lighter tone. “That's why we came to talk to you,”
Bryce explained.
— We don't know where she is.
— Did you... lose our queen? — Sasa asked softly.
— When we parted — Lidia added quickly, as Rithi and Sasa were now
becoming incandescent with rage — I suggested that Irithys go find a
stronghold of her people. She seemed... hesitant to do so. I think she was
worried about how she would be received.
The goblins bristled with rage.

“So,” Bryce interjected, “we were wondering if you guys could go look
for her.” To make sure you're... safe. And offer to keep her company.
— Doesn't our queen want to see her own people? —Rithi's voice
it was dangerously low, its flame still white and seething.
— Irithys — Lidia said calmly — spent most of her existence locked in a
crystal ball. Perhaps you can understand better than anyone else on
Midgard... finding yourself suddenly free from captivity, alone in the world,
is not the easiest thing. So I—” a glance at Bryce — “we're asking you to
find her. To offer company and help, of course, but also...
“To help us,” Bryce concluded. — We need the three of you to speak in
defense of Midgard... to help it understand what we are fighting for. And
maybe convince her to help once again against the Asteri. When the time
is right.
The goblins watched them for a long moment.
Sasa asked:
— Would you entrust such a task to Inferiors and enslaved women?

— We wouldn’t trust anyone else with a task like this.
magnitude — replied Lidia.
There weren't many Vanir on Midgard who would say that. And they
were serious. Bryce felt like he was dangerously close to starting to like the
Doe.
But Rithi questioned:
— You can't really think that a few fire elves would make a difference
against the asteri. Our ancestors didn't do it during the battle with the
Fallen... And look, there, they battled the malakim.
“Lehabah made the difference against Micah,” Bryce said, a lump in his
throat. — A fire elf faced an archangel and finished him off. It was thanks
to her presence that I had time to kill him. To kill an archangel.
The goblins opened their eyes wide.

—Did you kill Micah? — muttered Rithi.
Lidia didn't seem surprised. Like Doe, it was quite possible that she was
informed soon after everything happened.
“With Lehabah's help,” Bryce added. — Because of Lehabah's help. —
She swallowed the lump in her throat. — So yes... I believe that the fire
elves can and will make a difference against the asteri.
The sisters looked at each other, as if they could speak between minds
like Ruhn.
Then Sasa met Bryce's gaze. And he said, without a hint of fear:
— We will find Irithys — the goblins glowed a deep, intense shade of

blue — and, with her, fight the asteri when the time comes.
***
“Everything went well,” Bryce said minutes later, as she and Lidia walked
down the hall back to their dorms. — I'm glad you made me talk to them.
The Doe said nothing, her gaze fixed on the passage ahead.
- Are you well? — Bryce dared to ask. Despite sitting with them
during dinner, the Doe spent most of the time silent. And he never once
looked at Ruhn. The brother also pretended not to notice Lidia's presence.
“Yes,” Lidia replied, and Bryce realized it was a lie.

They didn't say anything else the rest of the way, stopping only when
they reached the dorms. Hunt was waiting for Bryce in their room. But
she waited a moment and said, before Lidia could enter her own room:
— Thank you.
Lidia stopped and turned towards her.

- Whereby?
— For saving my partner. My brother. My best friend's partner. You
know, three of the most important people in my life.
— She gave a hesitant smile.
Lidia tilted her head, majestic and graceful.

— It was the least I could do. — She turned to open the door.
“Hey,” Bryce said. Lidia stopped again. Bryce pointed with his chin at
Lidia and Doe's room, where she would sleep alone. — I know we, um,
don't know each other or anything, but if you need someone to talk to...
someone other than Ruhn... — She shrugged. — I'm just a door away.
Gods, she sounded so ridiculous.

But Lidia gave a discreet smile, something like surprise in her eyes.
“Thank you,” she said, and entered her room, closing the door.
door quietly.
***
Hunt had spent all day counting down the minutes until he could be
alone with Bryce in the room, to take her clothes off. But now that he
was lying in the too-narrow bunk with her, the lights
turned off and their breathing the only sound in the room... he didn't know
where to start.
The shitty argument they had earlier didn't help either.
He had told the truth and she hadn't wanted to hear it. I couldn't accept it.
But it was his fault. Of all people, he should have known better than to
lead them down this path once again. I didn't understand how she didn't see
that.
— Can I be honest? she asked in the darkness. She didn't wait for his
response before saying, “Other than showing the Autumn King's notes to
Morven, I don't have a concrete plan for how to deal with him. Or a backup
plan if he doesn't care about the notebooks.
Hunt put aside thoughts of the previous fight and said:
— Oh, I know that. You weren't as arrogant as you usually are when you
have a genius secret plan.
She patted his shoulder.
- I'm serious. Besides the Autumn King's notes, my only other bargaining
chip with him is my reproductive potential. And since you and I are married...
— Are you asking for a divorce?

She laughed.
— No. I'm saying I'm worthless to these idiots. Since my uterus is...
compromised.
— Hmm. Sexy. — He bit her ear. - I missed you.
— They could get into the meat of the discussion later. Tomorrow.
Never.
He ran his hand over her hip, her thigh. The dick getting hard
against her softness, the sweet scent of lilac and nutmeg.
— As much as I want to fuck you until someone needs to come and check
if we're still alive, Athalar — she said, and Hunt laughed into her hair — can
we just... cuddle today?
“Always,” Hunt replied with a heavy heart. He hugged her tighter, so
grateful for her scent in his nose, for the exuberance of her body against his.
He didn't deserve that. — I
amo.
She moved even closer, her arm wrapping around his waist.
“I love you too,” he whispered back. — Team Cavernas, until the end.
He gave a muffled laugh.

— Let's have t-shirts made.
- Do not tempt me. If Avallen weren't a backward island with no interweb, I
would have already placed the order, to be delivered to Morven Castle.
He smiled, the weight in his chest dissipating for a precious moment.
— Is there really no internet there?

— No. The mists block everything. Legend has it that not even the asteri
can penetrate them. — She made a whoosh, moving her fingers. Then he
paused, as if reflecting, before adding: — Vesperus mentioned things called
faint places, shrouded in mist. The Prison in the fae world was one of them.
And it seems too much of a coincidence that the ancient Star Fae also
established a fortress in a place shrouded in the same mist that serves to ward
off enemies.
Hunt raised his eyebrows.

—How can the mists be a wall against the asteri?
— The right question would be: why would the Asteri leave Avallen in
peace for so long if she is able to keep them away?
Hunt placed a kiss on the top of her head.
— I suspect you will discover the answers in the most dramatic way
possible.
She snuggled closer to him, and he hugged her tighter.
— You know me well, Athalar.
***
Ithan didn't dare point the Godslayer Rifle at the Astronomer. But he remained
prepared to do so when Jesiba asked: — What fuzuê is that?
The crowd—drakis, vampires, daemonakis, and many others he couldn't

identify—was dead silent. Everyone had come to witness the retaliation. Ithan
felt his mouth dry.
The Astronomer's slate gray eyes flashed with hatred.
— The wolf stole something from me.
Jesiba shrugged.
— The issue of the elves and the dragon has already been resolved between us.
— Don't play with me, Jesiba — replied the Astronomer. —,
We both know he took more than beings of fire.
Ithan took a step forward. His sweaty hands were pressed against the
polished wood and metal of the rifle.
— Wolves should not be kept in tanks. — No one should, he thought. —
Besides, she wasn't even yours to begin with.
She had no mark of being enslaved.
— It was sold to me by my father. It was a transfer
property officer.
— She was a child, and you had no right...
Ithan had killed her. He had no right to speak of her as if
he himself wasn't as bad as the man in front of him...
— You are a thief, wolf, and I demand payment! I demand that she
be returned to me!
The words didn't want to come out. Ithan couldn't speak.
But a lovely melodious female voice said from behind the
crowd:
—The Fendyr heiress will never be yours again, Astronomer.
The crowd hissed and parted to reveal Queen Hypaxia Enador entering
the chamber, her robes flowing behind her in a phantom wind.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ithan noticed Jesiba's smile.

“Hypaxia,” said the sorceress. —Just the necromancer I was looking for.
The fact that Jesiba managed to disperse the crowd without saying a single
word demonstrated her dominance over that place, that House.
Ithan found himself torn between looking at Hypaxia and the Astronomer or
avoid both of their eyes.
The Astronomer waited until the crowd had dispersed before saying to the
witch-queen:
— If you know the wolf's whereabouts and are withholding that information,
then the law says you are...
— No law applies here — Hypaxia cut in — since the heiress Fendyr was
not, legally, a slave. You said it yourself. — Gods, Ithan wished he had a
measly percentage of her firmness, her serene intelligence. Hypaxia continued:
— Then there was nothing for Ithan Holstrom to steal. He just allowed a free
citizen to choose whether to stay in that miserable tank... or leave.
And then he killed her.

Jesiba looked at him warningly, as if to say: Don't speak a single syllable
about this. Ithan returned the look as if retorting
Do you think I'm stupid on this level?
She looked pointedly at his t-shirt, which had SOLEBOL UCLC

printed on it.
He rolled his eyes and turned to the witch queen facing the
Astronomer.
—That wolf cost me an incalculable amount of gold. I lost a mystic...
— I'll pay — Ithan said hoarsely. Your parents made some good
investments before they died. He had more money than he could spend.
— Then I demand ten million gold marks.

Ithan started coughing. He even had some money, but...
— Paid — said Jesiba in a cold tone.
Ithan turned to her, but the sorceress smiled calmly at the Astronomer.
— You can add it to my monthly bill.

The Astronomer looked irritably at her, then at Ithan and finally at
Hypaxia, who returned a look of disdain. But he just spat on the ground
and stomped away, his long, greasy hair flying behind him.
In the silence, Jesiba faced Hypaxia and said: —

It's been days since I called you and asked you to come at the same time. Your
broom not working?
Ithan turned to Jesiba. —
Is this the necromancer you had in mind?
To be honest, he didn't know why he hadn't thought of it before. I
had just worked with her, damn it, when they tried to conjure Connor in
the Autumnal Equinox. Maybe he discarded it because it hadn't worked
and instead the Under-King showed up, but...
— Hypaxia's father was the best necromancer I've ever known —

explained Jesiba, crossing her arms. —She has his gift. If there's anyone
you can trust with your task, Holstrom, it's her.
Hypaxia's eyebrows rose in slight surprise, as
if it wasn't common to hear that compliment. But she said to
Jesiba: — It would be better if we talked in your office.
- Why?
Hypaxia seemed to debate whether to respond, but finally said,

“Do you want to know what kept me so long?” What I feared this fall
happened. Morganthia Dragas and her clan have staged a coup in the
name of what they see as preserving the old ways of witchcraft. I am
no longer the Valbaran Witch Queen.
— She touched her chest, where her usual gold Cthona pin was broken
in two. — To escape your tormentors, I swore allegiance to the House
of Flame and Shadow.
***
Lidia let Renki decide the location of that morning meeting. Somewhere
neutral and private, that was “quiet”, as the merman had described.
Lidia wished for some peace of mind as she sat on the sofa in the
student recreation area, which was so quiet—Principal Kagani had
reserved the room for them for an hour—and looked at her children.
They were sitting on the opposite sofa, which was old and stained,
befitting a student lounge.
Davit had been called to work late the night before, so only Renki
had shown up. The male was now sitting where the drinks were, at the
opposite end of the room. Allowing them some space. An illusion of
privacy.
She would have preferred if he had sat with them.
There was a good chance Morven wouldn't let them leave Avallen
alive. She needed to see her boys before she left, just one more time,
but that didn't mean the situation was comfortable.
Ace was leaning back against the cushions, arms crossed, looking
at the television above the foosball table, where the best moments of a
soleball game were playing. But Brann looked at her candidly, his bright
eyes revealing his sharp intellect and combative nature. A warrior from
head to toe.
He said without preamble:
— Why did you want to meet us so early?
Lidia discreetly wiped her sweaty palms on the legs of her tactical
suit. She knew that the two boys had noticed the
movement.
— I thought I could make myself available to you, if
had any doubts about me. About my past.
She had gone through horrible situations without flinching, and yet...
that moment made her heart race.
Brann's mouth twisted to the side as he thought about it. Without taking
his eyes off the television, Actaeon said:
— It's because she's leaving.
Too smart. Lidia looked at him, although Ace pretended not to see her,
and said: —
Yes. Today.
Brann looked from one to the other.
- Where?
Ace answered before Lidia: —
She won't tell. Better not to waste your time asking. She has no idea
what the word sincerity means.
Lidia clenched her jaw.
— I wish I could tell you. But our mission depends on secrecy.
Ace turned to face her.

— And we, children, are going to disclose your location to everyone,
right?
May the gods help her.
“I wish I could tell you,” she repeated.
Brann asked, his voice breaking, “Are
you coming back?”
Lidia replied sincerely: — I hope so.
Actaeon looked back at the television.

— You've managed to escape all the trouble so far. No
I see why this would be different.
The words hit her like a blow to a sensitive, unprotected part.
Brann looked at the twin as if warning him.

— Ace, stop. — It was obvious that they had talked before. Decided
how they would act.
And it was obvious that Ace hated her.

All good. She could live with that. He was safe and loved.
To have this, she could deal with the resentment.

— We are at war — Lidia explained to them. — And things are
going to get really ugly. I can't say where I'm going, but I can say I
might not come back. Every time I venture out, even more so now
that my enemies know the truth about me, there is a good chance
that I will not return.
Ace replied:
— Were we supposed to feel bad and cry for our mommy?
It took all her strength not to collapse.
Recovering the coolness she had perfected over the years, she
replied: —
A few minutes ago you claimed that I don't know what sincerity is.
Well, I'm being honest now. If you think this is a form of manipulation,
there's nothing I can do. But I wanted to see you two before I leave
today. To say goodbye.
Brann looked from one to the other again. Then he said:
— I guess my biggest question is why. Why did you leave us here.
— I had no choice — Lidia simply replied, very aware of Renki's

presence on the other side of the room. — It was either leaving you
here, safe and with people who would love and care for you, or risk
taking you to a world that only had the opposite to offer. I... thought
about you every day.
This was entering territory she wanted to avoid. I hadn't planned
to talk about it during this visit. Maybe never. And she knew that if
she stayed a moment longer, she might say more than she should,
things she wasn't prepared to say out loud. Things that, perhaps, the
boys were not prepared to hear.
Instead, with slightly trembling fingers, she took off the ruby ring
and placed it on the table between them.
— I want you to keep this. — She ignored the lump in her throat.
— It's an heirloom from my father's house. He is not someone worth
remembering, but this ruby... — she couldn't look to see the
expression on their face — is very valuable. You can sell it to pay for college,
housing... when you're old enough, that is. If they ever get off this ship. Not that
they have to leave. — She was rambling. He swallowed and finally looked at
them. Ace was expressionless, but Brann stared at the gigantic ruby with wide
eyes. — Or if you want to keep it — she concluded quietly, that's fine too.
—,
She wished she had something more to leave them, some other part of her
that wasn't tied to the monster that sired her, but that was all she had.
Task completed, Lidia stood up and Renki looked in her direction.

She nodded at him.
She looked at her children, brave, strong and capable, no thanks to her.
— I know you won't care about this — she said, looking at Ace, who had
gone back to watching television — but I'm very proud of you. Of the males
they are and are becoming. Looking at you, I know that... I made the right
choice. — She gave Brann a discreet smile.
His eyes sparkled.

- Thank you for that. For giving us our parents. — He made a gesture
for Renki. Lidia lowered her head. “Good luck,” Brann said wherever you —,
go.
She put her hand to her heart.
Brann nudged his brother with his elbow. Ace slid his eyes
golden back to her and said: — Bye.
Lidia kept her hand on her chest, tapping once, and turned around.
He left, not knowing where he was going, only aware that he needed to
keep walking, otherwise he would find a place to curl up and die.
She walked through the shiny corridors of the ship. Walked,

He walked and walked, and did not allow himself to look back.
***
Ithan waited until Jesiba's office door closed before rushing over to
Hypaxia.
- What happened? — Ithan demanded.
Jesiba had warned him before leaving the halls to be quiet, and he
had obeyed, even when they stopped in the dark dining hall for the
former witch-queen to get some food. According to her, he hadn't
eaten for days — a time that increased his already growing impatience.
But now, safely behind the locked doors of Jesiba's office, they would
get answers.
“It happened just the way I said it,” Hypaxia replied, her voice a
little dry as she placed the tray of food on the table. —My mother's
former general, Morganthia, had her forces surround my fortress. I
was presented with the following options: hand over the berry wreath
or die. I offered the crown, but somehow they understood that I chose
to die.
— And they can do that? — asked Ithan. — Expel you... Just like
that?
— Yes — said Jesiba, sitting down in her leather armchair. —
Witch dynasties were founded on justice and the right to remove an
unsuitable ruler. The goal was to protect the people, but Morganthia
used this to her advantage.
Hypaxia sank into one of the chairs in front of Jesiba's desk and
rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. It was the most normal
gesture Ithan had ever seen the queen make.
— Morganthia's first act as queen was to order my execution. The
second was to undo the animation spell that my mother had placed
on my guardians. — Upon seeing Ithan's raised eyebrows, she added:
— They are... were... ghosts.
How that was possible, he had no idea, but he said anyway: —

I'm sorry.
She nodded in thanks, her voice filled with sadness.
— The spell was linked to the crown. And once that crown
were hers... — She looked at Jesiba, her face pleading.
“You're mourning three long-dead people,” Jesiba said coldly, and
Ithan hated her for it. - Instead,
Weep for your people, who are now trapped by an unbalanced queen and her clan.
Hypaxia se empertigou.
— You seem to think I should have fought her.
“And it should,” Jesiba countered, dark fire shining in her eyes. A seed of
Apollion's power, transformed into something new. — Did you even try to protect
your crown before giving in?
— I would have died.
— And maintained your honor. Your mother would have been proud.
— A bloodless coup was a better alternative than fighting, having innocent
people die in my country.
name...
—Once her reign begins, Morganthia will shed far more blood than could have
been shed for you. — Jesiba closed her eyes and shook her head in disgust.
— I didn’t come here to be judged by you, Jesiba — he hissed.

Hypaxia, wilder than Ithan had ever witnessed it.
— I am the second in position of authority in this House. So you now answer to
me.
Ithan tried hard not to let his shock show. Jesiba
Was she second in command at the House of Flame and Shadow?
And did she think Hypaxia was the best necromancer for Ithan?
When there were so many others available?
— And — Jesiba added to Hypaxia, paying little attention to Ithan's surprise —
as someone who has spent centuries with witches, my observations are worthy of
your attention.
Hypaxia got angry: —
You abandoned our people.
—And you did the same.
A tense and charged silence dominated the room. Hypaxia gave a
bite — just one — of your ham and cheese sandwich.
Hypaxia didn't know, Ithan realized, what Jesiba was, deep down.
She still considered her a deserted witch.
“Look,” he said. —, I know you have a lot to resolve, but... I have
a very urgent matter.
The former witch-queen turned to him, her expression softer.

She took another bite of the sandwich and said, after swallowing:
— Jesiba informed me of the situation when she called me. I must admit
I was surprised by my sister's involvement. But I'm sorry about what happened.
He lowered his head, feeling a rush of shame.

Hypaxia continued, finishing the sandwich after a few more
bites:
—But necromancy is not an easy thing, Ithan.
“I remember,” he said.
She pressed her lips together. Yes, she also remembered every minute
of their brief encounter with the Under-King. But Hypaxia said, her eyes
shining with determination: — I will try to help
you.
He almost stopped breathing.
Hypaxia added: — I'll
start tomorrow. Today I have obligations. Oaths to take.
Oaths to the Under-King, who was impressed enough with her abilities at
the Autumnal Equinox to say he would welcome her there. Even Morganthia
Dragas would hesitate before getting involved with the Under-King.
— I don't have much time — warned Ithan.

— These oaths cannot wait — replied Jesiba. She pointed to the door of
her office, an order for Hypaxia. — They must be done at Cais Preto before
sunrise, girl.
You have already eaten your last meal. Now go.
Hypaxia did not hesitate. She walked out, robes flowing behind her, and
closed the door.
“Silly,” said Jesiba, sinking into the chair. — Foolish, innocent and
idealistic.
Ithan stood still, wondering if she had forgotten he was there.
But Jesiba looked up at him.

— She was always like that. Worse than Quinlan. Letting your heart lead
you like a puppy on a leash. It's the mother's fault,
kept isolated. No wonder Celestina made her fall when...
Ithan started.
- Calm down. Hypaxia and Celestina? —Jesiba nodded. Ithan cocked
his head to the side. — The Doe said that it was because of Celestina that
the asteri discovered that Bryce was going to the Eternal City. Hypaxia
would not have...
— They're already finished — interrupted Jesiba. — I have it on good
authority that Hypaxia... was not pleased when she discovered that
Celestina had betrayed her friends. But even this betrayal did not make
Hypaxia open her eyes and realize what Morganthia was planning.
“She noticed,” Ithan replied. — Came here this spring,

asking Ruhn for protection against Morganthia. I protected her...
— Protection — Jesiba mocked —, preserve yourself. This is not
acting. She knew Morganthia was a threat and chose to wait for her to
attack instead of striking her own blow against her. Instead of finding
allies, she played medwitch in the city, made love with that archangel.
Instead of gathering power, she ran to a fae prince and a wolf to protect
her. — She shook her head again. — Hecuba wanted to protect her all
these years, keeping her isolated from the corrupt clans. In doing so, it
prevented her from growing a thick shell. — Jesiba crossed her arms and
looked into space, fury and disdain in her expression.
Ithan dared to ask: —

Why did you defect from the witches?
— I didn't like the direction they were taking.
— When was Hecuba queen?
— Long before that. Witches have been in decline for generations.
A magical and moral rot. — She rested her head on the back of the chair.
“Naive girl,” Jesiba muttered to herself.
—What kind of oaths does Hypaxia need to take at Black Wharf?
before sunrise?
— The old kind.
- That is not...
— The mysteries of the House of Flame and Shadow are none of your business.
— Hypaxia... will it change?

— No. Her oaths are nothing like the ones reapers swear.
Establishing loyalty is a legal process, but one that must be honored as
decreed by the Under-King.
The Under-King... whom Jesiba served as second-in-command.
— I didn't know you were so important here.
- I'm flattered. And before you ask, no, Quinlan doesn't know. People
in this House do not talk sideways. But the City Masters are aware.
— And the Astronomer... he knows. — She nodded. —What is your

issue with him? You said you had a monthly bill. — He sighed. — Damn,
I don't have all that money to pay you...
— It's a tax reduction for the House — said Jesiba, waving her hand.
— And I'm getting tired of all these questions. You are asking things you
have no right to know.
—Then stop telling me so much.

She smiled.
— You're not as annoying as you seem.
“I'm flattered,” he said.
Jesiba laughed softly. And then he
said: — A few centuries after Apollion turned me, he heard rumors
that I had... powers. Like the damned lazy person he is, he sent his
brother, Aidas, to investigate. And I believe to kill me if I were in fact a
threat.
She spoke the names of the demon princes as if they were old
acquaintances.
— But Aidas discovered that I posed no threat and that I still
maintained the library, defying his brother's demands to reveal the
powers it, in theory, contained. Since nothing in this world makes sense,
Aidas and I became friends, in a way. We still are. I suppose it's because
we're so used to each other now. It's been a long time.
—So what did he report to Apollion?

— That I should be respected, but left alone.
—And Apollion listened?
She shrugged.
— He sends Aidas to come and take a look at me every now and then.
when.
—And what does this have to do with the Astronomer?
— I've been paying the Astronomer for a few years now to look for a
way to undo the hold that Apollion has over my soul.
He felt a shiver of disgust.
— So you pay him to do your bidding?
“I'll pay him,” she replied, “but he'll also benefit from anything he
discovers.
- Why?
— He wants to find the answer so he can return to his youth. He's
human... or used to be, before he had so much magic corrupting his soul.
He is more afraid of death than anything else. You will have a lot to gain if
you are successful in your quest. I suppose we are two miserable creatures
feeding off each other. — She looked at Ithan. — He may seem fragile, but
he is very cunning. Go look for other ways to screw you.
He nodded toward the Godslayer Rifle, which Ithan had placed back on
the wall.
—Would you have given me orders to kill him today?
— No — replied Jesiba — the rifle was just to threaten. I still need it.
— I think scientists call it a symbiotic relationship.

— Well, it's a relationship I've been building for a long time, before he
came along.
—So you have been using this scoundrel and his dominance over
innocent...
— You didn't seem to have any qualms about using it when it was
looking for information from your brother.
The Astronomer must have told her about the visit Ithan had made. He
continued talking.
- You can explain better? — Upon seeing her expressionless look, he
added: — Please? First of all, why did you decide to use Astronomer?
— I thought it was the cats who were too curious.

— It's my fault that I chose to study history in college.
She gave a small smile, but sighed at the ceiling before speaking,
“In my own research over the millennia, I've learned that dragonfire is
one of the few things that can make a Prince of Hell hesitate.
—Did you intend to use it against Apollion? — Ithan couldn't help but be
shocked by her audacity.
She studied her well-manicured nails.
— I thought it might be a good... negotiating tool.
Ithan gave an admiring laugh.
- Wow. And what happened?
— There was a rumor in town that the Astronomer had a dragon. I came
to him and offered to buy Ariadne on the spot. — She crossed her arms
again. — The bastard didn't want to sell, not for all the money in the world.
But that same day, I realized I had another opportunity on my hands: I could
use his mystics to tear apart Hell in search of answers that would help free
me, and have those same mystics protected by Ariadne while they worked.
—But you said you wanted to wait until… the books were safe before
you stopped being young.
— Yes, but when the time comes, I want to have the solution in hand.
- Why?
— So you don't convince me not to do it. — He felt, more than saw, the
weight of all those years hunching her shoulders. — You're not like most
wolves I've met.
— Is that an insult or a compliment? — He honestly didn't know the
difference.
She uncrossed her arms and drummed her fingers on the table.
— There are many things you don't know, Ithan Holstrom, many truths.
There are so many things that I wouldn't be able to delve into here and now.
— She stopped drumming her fingers, her gaze shining with old hurt and
resentment. —But it was the wolf packs that reached Parthos first. Who
started the massacre and the
burned. It was the packs of wolves, sniffers created by the asteri that hunted
my sisters. I will never forget that.
Ithan's stomach turned at the shameful history of his people, but he
asked, "Servants?"
An ironic smile.
— Esse dom já existia entre os lobos, mas os asteri os
encouraged. Creating them in specific ways. Do they still do that.
— Like Danika.
Jesiba drummed on the table again.
— The Fendyr are... a bloodline carefully bred by the Asteri.
- Like this?
She fixed her bright eyes on him. That female had experienced the
entire history of Midgard's asteri. It was more than he was able to
comprehend.
—Haven't you ever wondered why the Fendyr are so dominant?
Generation after generation?
— Genetics.
— Yes, genetics created by the asteri. Sabine and Mordoc were ordered
to procreate.
—But Sabine took the title from her brother...
— At whose command? She is an angry and petty female. The brother
was more intelligent, but he was obviously not a worthy male, and he sold
his own daughter to the Astronomer. He must have been considered unfit
by the Asteri, who persuaded Sabine to face him. And when Sabine finally
asserted her dominance, they ensured that Mordoc was sent to produce a
line of more... competent Fendyr.
— Well, Micah screwed up their plans.

— And who do you think pulled the strings to make Micah do this?
Ithan was grateful to be sitting.

—Do you think the Asteri caused Micah to kill
Danika? After all the work they went into creating her?
Not to mention that Connor and the Pack of Demons had been
destroyed as a result of this conspiracy...
— I think Danika was reckless and headstrong, and the Asteri knew
they would never be able to control her like they did Sabine. I think they
realized that, with Danika, they had produced a wolf so powerful that she
could stand up to those I fought in the First Wars. Real wolves. And she
wasn't on their side. It needed to be eliminated.
Ithan slumped in his chair, but then a thought occurred to him.

— The Under-King told Hypaxia and me that Connor... that the Under-
King was ordered not to lay a finger on my brother. Why?
Jesiba's face was inscrutable.

- I don't know. It must be because he was an important resource in
life, and continued to be so after his death.
- For whom?
— The asteri. They know what Connor means to Quinlan,
to you...that makes his soul extremely valuable.
Ithan felt dazed.
- I'm nobody.
Jesiba looked at him with disdain, but her phone rang before she could
answer it. When it rang a second time, she answered the call.
She listened in silence until she said in a dry tone:

- Right. — The sorceress hung up and faced Ithan. — Your presence
has been requested downstairs, in the morgue.
— Do you have a private morgue here?
She rolled her eyes.
— Hypaxia finished the vows in record time... And it's
waiting for you downstairs. With Sigrid's corpse.
“The ship can only bring you so far,” Commander Sendes warned as
Bryce and Hunt steadied themselves atop the wave-tossed Deep Freighter.
The gray sea crashed around them, the damp wind blew through Bryce's
flimsy jacket, pricking his body.
This wasn't quite how Bryce imagined entering the legendary

homeland of the fae.
Hunt spread his wings, almost the same color as the water, as if trying
to test the air currents. On the other side, Baxian peered over the water,
black wings protecting him from the wind.
Not that they had to fly very far.
The wall of mist rose from the sea itself, stretching all the way to the
clouds. Perhaps it would remain above them. It was impossible to see.
As she suspected, the mist was almost identical to that surrounding
the Bone Quarter. Impenetrable, sinister... Could these be the true
tenuous places between the worlds? And what was there in those mists
that the asteri couldn't cross?
— Can't you navigate in the fog? Hunt asked Sendes, indicating the
swirling mass ahead.
Sendes shook her head, the biting wind sending strands of her dark
hair flying from her tight braid.
— No. There is no mist under the water, there is a barrier... invisible,

but solid as stone.
— Protections, then? asked Bryce, shivering again.
The fire goblins, who had been perched on her shoulders as she rose
into the frigid air, had left moments before, three flames zooming
through the waves toward the distant landmass of Pangera. She said a
prayer to Solas as they quickly disappeared over the horizon.
— Not protections as we know them — explained Sendes, who

barely trembled before the freezing waves that hit the side of the ship,
splashing her. Bryce, a few steps away, was startled by the spray,
taking a step back. — They seem to… occur naturally, rather than
being cast by spells. Not even the Queen of the Ocean gives orders to
try to break through the mist. It's as if they were made by Midgard itself.
Bryce shoved his cold, wet hands into his jacket pockets.
There was no point in warming them up.
— I told you it was worth analyzing this mist.
The night before, when they were lying down, she had wanted to talk
about the fight they had had. But she had been so exhausted and so grateful
to be by his side that she hadn't said anything.
Hunt looked up at the enormous barrier of mist, feathers fluttering
in the wind.
—So how did the fae get access in the first place?
— These bastards can infiltrate anywhere. It was no different with

the old ones,” Bryce recalled.
Sendes agreed with a grunt, but his cell phone rang and the
commander walked away to read the message he had received.
Baxian approached Hunt's other side, grimacing as another wave
roared, dousing them all. Damn, but it was fucking cold.
- What is the plan? asked the Hellhound. He pointed at Hunt with

his chin. — You and I do a reconnaissance flight along the wall, looking
for a way in?
Hunt nodded seriously and said:

— Who knows, we might find a bell somewhere.
“Your brother is late,” Baxian complained to Bryce. — It would be good not to stay
here longer than necessary. There must be omega boats nearby.
“The ship knows how to avoid them,” Bryce countered, dodging behind Hunt to
avoid another hail of icy water.
“Yes, but we don't want them to be told we're going to Avallen,” Baxian said. He
spread his wings, flapping them once, spraying drops from his black feathers. "I'm
going west along the wall," the Hellhound added to Hunt. — Meet you here in ten
minutes?
Before Baxian could leap into the sky, the hatch behind them creaked and Ruhn
emerged from it, Flynn and Dec following close behind. All three armed, as did Bryce,
Hunt and Baxian, with weapons from the Deep Freighter's arsenal. Mostly guns and
knives... Better than nothing.
— My bad, my bad — said Ruhn when he saw that Hunt was looking at him with
irritation. — Flynn and Dec discovered the waffle station in the cafeteria and fell in
love.
Flynn patted his stomach.
“You merfolk know how to make breakfast,” he said.
to Sendes, who had put his cell phone in his pocket and was approaching.
Bryce might have laughed if Tharion hadn't emerged from the hatch behind them,
his face drawn and pale. He returned Bryce's gaze when he arrived at her side, he
was desolate and exhausted.
Bryce reached out and grabbed the merman's strong jaw.
“Hang in there,” she murmured.
— Thanks, Legs. — Tharion retreated to the edge of the rail, expressionless.
She wished she had more to say, more comfort to offer him.
After everything he had done to help them over the past few months, was this the
best she could do? Leave him behind?
Movement in the hatch caught his attention again, Lidia's golden head appearing.
And as much as Ruhn and friends
continued to debate whether waffles went better with hot syrup or whipped
cream — among everything they had to talk about at that moment, that was
—, stiffened his body.
the topic chosen. She could have sworn that her brother
But Lidia didn't look at Ruhn. He didn't say anything, just watched the
swirling mist. If she was surprised by his sinister presence, she didn't let it
show in her expression. She gave no explanation, nor did she apologize for
the delay.
The Doe looked back at the open hatch. Undoubtedly
thinking about the children downstairs.
Baxian watched her, as if she intrigued him. Bryce didn't blame him.
The Hellhound had worked side by side with the Doe, but here she was,
looking just as he knew her, but so different. Even though he also hid his true
loyalties behind his own mask.
But Bryce couldn't even imagine how Lidia was feeling.

feeling. She went to the Doe and said, softly:
— I'm sorry you can't keep them.
Lidia's golden eyes fixed on his face. For one
At that moment, Bryce braced himself for a blunt response. But then Lidia's
shoulders dropped and she replied: — Thank you. — Her
expression softened, as if she remembered that Bryce had offered to talk
the night before, and Lidia repeated, this time more quietly: — Thank you.
Bryce nodded and turned to find Ruhn watching them closely. The
inscrutable expression, hard as stone. Whatever happened between him and
Lidia, Bryce wouldn't interfere even if he was paid. Not even if they paid him
a truckload of money.
Instead, Bryce said to his brother, Flynn, and Dec,
“We were about to go on a recon mission, but then I remembered that
you three have been here before. — She gestured to the mist. — How do we
get in?
A particularly large wave rocked the Deep Freighter, and Hunt was at her
side at once, placing a hand on Bryce's back to steady her.
“Alpha asshole,” she muttered to him, but allowed Hunt to see in her
eyes that she wasn't serious.
Ruhn and his two friends frowned at each other. Her brother said:
—Normally, it would require an invitation from Morven. But during the

Ordeal, I learned that having the Aster in hand grants... certain entry
privileges.
Bryce raised her eyebrows, but shivered as another gust of cold, damp
wind hit her. She moved closer to Hunt's warmth, and her partner wrapped
one of his gray wings around her to block the wind.
- As?
Ruhn indicated with his chin the sword on her back.
— Take her there and you’ll see. — Bryce and Hunt exchanged wary
glances and Ruhn sighed. — What, do you think this is some kind of prank?
Bryce said,
“I don't know! You're all full of riddles!
Baxian laughed on Hunt's other side, enjoying the show. Gods, he and
Danika were made for each other.
Despite feeling lost at the thought, Bryce looked at the Hellhound and
then drew his sword in one smooth movement. The black blade didn't even
shine in the gray light. The knife at his side seemed to weigh more, as if it
were being dragged towards the blade...
"Well, well," Tharion said slowly, looking at the wall of mist. “It really is
a bell,”
muttered Hunt.
A triangular door — like the one in Silene's caves — had opened.
The hairs on Bryce's arms stood up as a white boat, the opposite of

those at Black Pier, came into view. The arched prow was carved like a
deer's head, with matching lanterns hanging from the branches of its
mighty antlers.
And then the deer spoke, eyes shining, mouth moving as a deep male
voice echoed from within;
no doubt passed down from a king miles away.

— Welcome, Bryce Danaan. I was waiting for you.
***
Tharion watched his friends climb into the white boat, the angels closing their
wings tightly. The boat held steady in the choppy waves, guided by the magic
that had sent it there. Flynn kept a close eye on Lidia as she jumped after
Ruhn, but hesitated before jumping. He turned to Tharion and extended a hand.
— See you around, merman.

Tharion looked at the male's broad, calloused hand, his skin splashed with
seawater. Behind Tharion, Sendes had already waved to his friends and was
now heading towards the hatch.
If he was going to take action, it would need to be now. Because if he
stayed on this ship one more day... things wouldn't end well for him.
Which left him with only one choice, being honest.

Sendes stopped at the open hatch and motioned for Tharion to climb down.
I had things to do and everything.
Flynn frowned at the hand he still held out, at Tharion, standing there...
Tharion moved.
Bracing his hands on the rail, he jumped over to the other side, landing on
the white boat with a thud that made everyone else curse.
— Ketos — said Athalar, holding tightly to the side of the rocking boat —
what the fuck is this?
But Flynn landed behind Tharion a second later, saying, “Go, go, go—to
the boat or whatever magic was controlling it.
Tharion's blood seemed to run faster through his veins as the boat began
to pull away from the Deep Freighter, and then Sendes was at the rail, his eyes
wide with shock.
“She's going to kill you,” Sendes shouted. — Tharion...

Tharion smiled at the commander.

— She'll have to get through the mist first.
He barely uttered the last word before the bow of the boat entered
the famous mists.
Yet he could have sworn that the entire ocean behind them was
shaking, as if a great leviathan of power was already emerging, rising
towards him...
They walked through the thick fog. The feeling of pure power
disappeared. Nothing remained except the gray water around the
boat and the floating mist, too thick; one could only see a few feet
beyond the glow of the deer's eyes.
Tharion finally looked ahead and found his friends staring at him
with varying degrees of shock. Lidia Cervos shook her head slowly,
as if she understood the gravity of what he had done better than any
of them.
— Well — he said, as casually as he could, sitting down and
crossing his legs — I didn't want to invite me to the party, but I
decided to go with you.
— You have no idea how many people I've had to convince not to eat her
carcass on the way here — mentioned Jesiba. Ithan couldn't stop looking at
the shape of the body under the white sheet in the morgue.
To the point between the neck and head.

Working on something at the counter, Hypaxia shouted, “It
might take a little while.”
Ithan looked around the lifeless, tiled morgue, and managed to ask:
— Why do you have a morgue here?

Jesiba was sitting upright on one of the stools, which appeared to be used
for medical purposes.
—And where else are we supposed to resurrect corpses?
— I don't even know why I asked.
— You did a lot of damage to her, you know that?
Ithan frowned at the sorceress. Jesiba reciprocated with
a wink at him.
But when Hypaxia turned to the two, Ithan was able to look closely at her
face for the first time since she had arrived there. His features were marked
by exhaustion, his eyes dark. Hopeless.
What price did he have to pay to swear loyalty to that House? Jesiba
had said that the ritual was quick, which was rare. Was that why she
looked so exhausted? A part of him preferred not to know.
He opened his mouth to tell her that she didn't need to do this for him,
that she should rest, but... he was running out of time. The longer they
waited, the less chance they would have of being able to resurrect the
decapitated woman...
Decapitated...
His stomach dropped.
“Sit down, Ithan,” Hypaxia said gently. A greenish light surrounded her
fingers as she approached the table, with a package in her hands.
— Is that a sewing kit? — He was going to vomit.

Jesiba
snorted. — You better hope her head is back when Hypaxia wakes her
up.
The ancient witch-queen took a shiny syringe of primalux from a
cupboard and placed it on a tray on top of a wheeled cart.
— As soon as she wakes up, an injection of primalux will do the

damage. But first you need to get your head in place, so that the tendons
can grow again and fix themselves.
— Okay — Ithan said, taking a deep breath, trying to control the
growing nausea. - OK. — Damn, he was a monster for making that
necessary.
“And here we go,” said Hypaxia.
Jesiba caught Ithan's attention.
—Are you sure you want to resurrect a Fendyr?
He did not answer. I couldn't respond. Then he was quiet.
Hypaxia started to sing.
***
Hunt had been in Morven Donnall's throne room for ten seconds and
already hated her.
After the bright white boat guided them through the mist, he had hoped
to find some kind of summer paradise. Not a cloudy sky over a land of
dense green hills and a gray stone castle perched on a cliff above a
winding, gray river. In the distance, thatched-roof cottages marked
farmland, and a small town of two- and three-story buildings covered the
hill, all the way to the castle itself.
No skyscrapers. No highways. No cars. The lamps that

I could distinguish they were flames, not primalux.
The boat sailed down the river towards the cliff, entering the castle
through a cave opened at its base. Everyone was silent during the trip,
assuming that the deer on the bow had ears that worked as well as its
mouth, and could transmit every word to the buck waiting for them in the
castle.
This male was now sitting in front of them, on a throne that seemed to
be made from a single set of horns. The beast it had belonged to must
have been colossal, something that existed nowhere else on Midgard.
Were there such big deer around? The thought wasn't at all...comforting.
But neither were the shadows that coiled like snakes around the king,
wild and twisted. There was a crown of them atop Morven's dark head,
blacker than the Pit.
Bryce and Ruhn were at the head of the small group, and Hunt
exchanged a look with Baxian, whose frown revealed that he was not at
all impressed with the place.
— A renovation would be good, in my opinion — he murmured.
Tharion on the other side of Hunt, who curved his mouth upwards.
The merman was a great guy, making a joke right after disobeying the
Ocean Queen's orders. Yes, Hunt was happy to have Ketos with them, but
damn, what was going through the merman's head when he jumped into
that boat?
Hunt knew exactly what was going through his head, to be honest.
And he didn't blame the merman for the choice he had made, but they
already had quite a collection of enemies. If that somehow led the Ocean
Queen to act against them...
From the irritated looks that the others continued to throw in Ketos'
direction, they were also not at all happy with the way the carriage was
going. But, at that moment, they needed to worry about another ruler.
— You bring traitors and enemies of the empire to my home — intoned

the Fae King. The shadows around him stopped intertwining; predators
preparing to attack.
But Bryce pointed to herself, then to Ruhn, her face
pretending to be the portrait of pure perplexity, and asked:
— Are you talking to me or him?
Baxian lowered his head, as if trying not to smile. Hunt felt inclined to do
the same, but he dared not take his focus away from the stony-faced ruler
or the shadows under his command.
— This male — a disdainful look at Ruhn — was
disowned by his father. You are the only royalty before me.
“Wow,” Bryce said to Ruhn, “that was tough. Ruhn's eyes lit up, but he
didn't say anything. She pointed to the small, dark castle around them. —
You know, I'm kind of surprised by all this doom and gloom. Cormac said it
would be better.
Morven's dark eyes glittered. The shadowy crown at the top
of his head seemed to darken even more.
— This name is no longer recognized or accepted here.
- Oh yes? — challenged Ruhn, crossing his arms. — Well, he is among
us. Cormac gave his life to make this world a better place.
—He was a liar and a traitor... not just to the empire,

but of his birthright.
“And we can't allow that,” Bryce crooned. — All
that precious reproductive potential... wasted.
— I need to remind you that, despite being royalty, you are still a female.
And fey females can only speak when addressed.

— Now you've done it — Hunt grumbled, and decided it was a good time
to stay by his partner's side. He said to the king: —
Telling her to shut up doesn't end well for anyone. Trust in me.
— I will not exchange words with a slave — Morven snapped, pointing

to Hunt's wrist, where the black sleeve revealed the almost invisible mark.
He nodded at Hunt's haloed forehead. — Much less a Fallen angel,
disgraced by the world.
“Wow,” Bryce said, sighing. She turned to the group. — Let's do a

count, then. If you have been rejected, dishonored, or both, raise your
hand.
Tharion, Baxian, Lidia, Hunt, and Ruhn raised their hands. Bryce
looked over Flynn and Dec, both still in their usual black jeans and t-shirts,
and sighed again. She gestured expansively, granting the floor to them.
Flynn smiled, walking to Bryce's side.

— As far as I know, I'm still my father's heir. It's good to see you again,
Morven.
Hunt could have sworn Morven's shadows hissed.
— It would be in your best interest, Tristan Flynn, to be respectful when
speaking to me.
- Oh yes? — Flynn crossed his arms, brimming with arrogance.
Morven pointed to someone behind them, the delicate silver embroidery
along the wrists and collar of his immaculately tailored black jacket
gleaming in the firelight, and Hunt turned as two burly guards emerged
from the shadows. He hadn't felt or heard them...
From Tharion and Baxian's shocked expressions, he knew that the two
They were as surprised as he was.
But Ruhn, Flynn and Declan scowled. As if they recognized the
approaching males, both imposing and armed to the teeth. It was obvious
they were twins.
The murderous twins that Ruhn had mentioned, capable of
prying into minds as they pleased.
But that wasn't Hunt's main concern. Not yet.
Because between the two of them, in black leggings and white
sweaters, light brown hair falling around their faces... Hunt had no idea
who the fey female was. But she was furious. Furious with the guards,
with the king and...
- What the hell is that? —Flynn exploded.
— Sathia? — Declan asked, mouth open.
"It seems," Morven said slowly as the killer twins dragged the fey
female forward, white-knuckling her arms hard enough to hurt, "that your
sister has gotten herself into quite a bit of trouble, Tristan Flynn."
Bryce didn't know who to focus on: a furious Sathia Flynn in Morven's
throne room, or Tristan's shocked face as he processed the scene.
Bryce opted for the latter, especially when Flynn spoke angrily to the
King of Avallen: — What do
you mean by problem?
Morven replied slowly,
“Many of the Valbaran fae feel... the coming unrest, and have
sought shelter in my lands. — The serpentine shadows writhed
around his neck, on his shoulders, with something threatening.
The shadows of the king, those of the murderous twins... seemed

different from Ruhn's: wilder, more cruel. Ruhn's shadows were a
soft, stealthy night; theirs were the darkness of caves without light.
“If you went around saying that being here was like taking a
luxurious vacation, you better prepare yourself for a lot of one-star
reviews,” Bryce muttered, earning a giggle from Tharion. She didn't
smile at the merman, however. He had another all-powerful ruler add
them to her enemies list, and she didn't want to talk to him right now.
By the way Tharion suddenly stopped laughing, he knew Bryce
wasn't happy.
Then Bryce watched Flynn, very seriously, perhaps for the first time.
in life, say to the Stag King, with a voice full of disdain:
— Let me guess, my parents came running. — He looked around the
throne room. — Where is my brave father? And everyone else, by the way?
Morven's face might as well have been carved from stone.
— A few select people were allowed in. Most were sent back to Lunathion.
But for those who remain here, there is a price to be paid, of course.
Flynn slowly turned to his sister.

—What did you promise him? — There was intense anger and a hint of
fear in his question. But Flynn didn't go to the female and the twins holding her.
Bryce sized them up and found both males already smiling at her.
And then, in the back of his mind, dark twin shadows growled, preparing to
attack...
She incinerated them with a mental wall of starlight.
The twins hissed, one of them blinking as if the light had actually dazzled
him. Bryce bared his teeth and kept the glowing wall in his mind. A second
later, there was a polite knock on the wall and Ruhn said, Keep it up. No matter
what happens.
Tell Hunt and the others to build a wall too, Bryce responded, glaring at the
twins.
I already did that, Ruhn replied. You should see the lightning flashes around
Athalar's mind. He burned their probes to dust.
Disgusting. Don't say probes.
Ruhn snorted, and his presence disappeared from her mind, as Morven
continued speaking:
— Sathia didn't promise me anything. In fact, she refused to pay the price I
asked. A generous good, in fact: the power to choose between the males who
are next to her. And since a female has no value here other than the offspring
she can bear for Avallen, I see no reason for her sister to remain in this refuge
a moment longer.
Morven's words fell like a bomb in the room.
“Easy there,” Bryce said, looking between Sathia's pretty, indignant face and
the Stag King and his bloodthirsty shadows, “just so we're clear: Are you saying you
require any female who seeks refuge here to marry?”
“It wouldn't be safe for so many single females to walk around without a male
relative or husband,” Morven said, picking at an invisible stain of dirt on his black
pants.
— Yes — Bryce quipped — just imagine what would happen if all of us females
were running around unsupervised. Absolute anarchy. Cities would collapse.
But Flynn said to Morven,

“Then bring their brothers and husbands.”
Bryce glared at him, but Morven replied, “I don't need any more males
on this earth.
Bryce gritted his teeth hard enough to hurt. This was the male who had made a
deal with her father for her to marry Cormac, injecting more power and dignity into
the fae royal lineage.
Flynn asked, "What

about my parents?"
Morven sniffed.
— I allowed Lord and Lady Hawthorne to remain here, as our ties go back to
the First Wars. They currently reside in my private hunting lodge in the north.
“Then send Sathia to my father,” Flynn replied.

“He doesn't want to,” Sathia said finally. Though her fae voice was soft and
refined, Bryce didn't fail to notice the iron determination that coursed through her. —
Either I get married here, or I'm sent back to Lunathion.
“Then go back,” Flynn ordered his sister.

Sathia shook her head slowly.
— It's not safe there.
“You have your own comfortable home,” Ruhn reminded him with a smile.
uncharacteristic hardness —, It is going to be alright.
Sathia shook her head again, her gaze fixed on her brother.
— It's not safe because of you.
- What? —Flynn was surprised.

“Word has spread,” Morven explained from his throne of horn and shadow, “about
your help in that—a nod to Ruhn—escape.” Along with the escape of two other enemies
of the empire. — He glanced coldly at Baxian and Hunt, who were staring at him
threateningly. — The entire Hawthorne family is now wanted by the asteri for
interrogation.
“They want to kill us to punish you,” Sathia said, pointing a condemning finger at
Flynn. — We had to leave in the middle of the night, when we received an alert that
the 33rd was coming after us. These clothes are all I brought with me.
“What a sacrifice you had to make,” Flynn sneered. But Bryce noticed the flash of
guilt in her eyes. Declan had already pulled out his cell phone, no doubt to check on
his family and Marc...
— There's no signal here, thanks to the mist — Sathia said to Declan.
The male's face paled and he muttered, "I forgot about that."
But Sathia added quietly, “I called your

parents before we left. They said they also
would contact your boyfriend.
Flynn gaped, but Declan inclined his head in thanks.
- What it was? — Sathia looked at her brother with a frown. - You

Do you think I'm a monster?
Flynn gave another sneer that said, Yes, and Bryce
intervened to spare everyone the fight between the two.
“Okay,” she said to Morven. —, so you are
insisting that Flynn's sister marry one of these... weirdos? — Bryce gestured to the
assassin twins holding Sathia, making sure the mental wall of starlight was still intact. I
wouldn't let them get anywhere near her mind.
“Seamus and Duncan are lords of the fae,” Morven countered.

for Bryce. — You will address them with the tone of deference that females should use.
Oh, but holy hell!

“You didn't answer my question,” Bryce protested. Sathia's expression was

pure panic. — Are you really going to force her to get married or be deported to be
killed by the Asteri?
Morven twirled a shadow around one of his long, broad fingers.
— Her father agreed that marriage was the best option. And agreed that if she
refused, she should be sent back to Lunathion. — He clenched his fist, crushing
the shadow inside him. — For a long time she refused any male he presented.
Father's patience came to an end and he begged me to take care of it.
“Father of the Year,” Baxian growled.

Bryce grunted in agreement.
Sathia said with impressive coldness: — It is my
right to refuse any suitor who is presented to me.
Morven looked at her with disgust. — Yeah,

girl. Just as it is her father's right to disown her for failing
in his duty to continue the family lineage.
Bryce grumbled:
—Then what's the point of allowing females to refuse to
Will they be punished for this?
“That's not our problem,” Flynn muttered, and even Ruhn turned to him in
shock. — We didn't come here to deal with this.
— So you came here to also ask for asylum? asked Morven, resting his chin
on his fist.
“No,” Hunt shot, taking a step forward, spreading his wings. - Not so. — He
looked at Bryce, making her step forward.
new.
Exchanging a look with Ruhn that said they would deal with the Sathia issue
later, Bryce set aside his concern and lifted his chin as he approached Hunt.
— I'm here to access the Avallen Archives and the Cave of Princes.
“Access denied,” Morven announced.

“You didn't quite understand me,” Bryce said in that peremptory tone. — I
wasn't asking for your permission. — The star on his chest began to shine,
illuminating his t-shirt and sports jacket. —As Starry Princess, no part of
Avallen is forbidden to me.
— I will decide who is worthy of access to my kingdom — Morven

countered.
“Starlight says otherwise,” Bryce quipped. She pulled out Aster and the
knife. — And these two too.
As if their sheaths had kept their power contained, the bare metal now
pulsed in his hand, up his arms, pulling them together so violently that it took
all of Bryce's strength to keep them apart.
Morven paled. Even their shadows retreated.

—What is that on your left hand? — Even the killer twins and Sathia had
their eyes fixed on her, as if they couldn't look away.
“Some great prophecy being fulfilled,” Bryce said, hoping he was hiding
the tremor in his arms by holding the black blades steady, by ignoring that
instinct that whispered to bring them together, not keep them apart.
— Where did you get that knife? Morven hissed.

— So you know what it is? — Bryce replied.
“Yes,” he said, “I can feel the power.
“Well, that makes it easier,” Bryce said. She sheathed both weapons.
Fortunately, the attraction between them has diminished. — One less
explanation I need to give. — She nodded at Morven, and he frowned at her.
— I'll be in and out before you know it.
His shadows returned, darkening the air behind his throne

of horn until it seemed as if Morven was sitting in front of the void.
—Females are prohibited in both the Avallen Archives and the
Cave of the Princes.
“I don't give a shit,” Bryce said.
— You spit on our sacred traditions.
- Beats.
Morven's nostrils flared.

— May I remind you, girl, that all it takes is one word from me to
May the asteri have you in the palm of their hands.
“You'd have to open the mist for them first,” Bryce countered. — And it seems
to me that it took a lot of work not to do that... or to give them a reason to come here.
— You may be removed by the guards.

Bryce gestured to Hunt, then to Baxian, then to
the others.
— My own guards can make everything more difficult.
— This is my kingdom...
— And I didn't say otherwise. I just want to take a look at your files. A few days,
and we're out of here. — She took the Autumn King's notebook from her jacket. —
I'll even make the deal more interesting: here's my father's private diary. Well, the
most current of them. All his secret plans, written right here. It's a load of shit, if you
ask me. Dear diary, today I made a list of all my enemies and how I intend to one
kill them. It's so hard to be king... I wish I had a friend!
She smiled as Morven's eyes narrowed to the leather-bound notebook, and

displayed the first page, where her father's distinctive handwriting could be seen. He
knew her very well, as the two old assholes communicated mostly through
handwritten letters, as Avallen didn't have computers.
— If you let us stay here, it will be yours when we leave.

Morven's fingers drummed on the arm of his throne. He had taken the bait.
But he said, the shadows finally brightening, “Your

presence here threatens to bring the wrath of the Asteri upon me.
Bryce considered, blinking.
— Well, it seems like you have no problem sheltering
fugitives, if he let Flynn's parents in.
He stared at her, pure darkness in his eyes.
Bryce continued, "I
mean, you could make up for Cormac's dishonor by turning us over to the
Asteri... but if you do that, you'll have to turn in the parents."
of Flynn and the other nobles as well. And I doubt you'll win the favor of
your people if you betray some fancy nobles like that. — She crossed her
arms. — A big problem, huh?
Morven stamped his boot on the ground.
— It's super difficult — Bryce continued — trying to play both sides,
isn't it?
— I'm not playing for either side — Morven replied — I'm loyal to the
Asteri.
—Then open the mist. Let them in. Let's invite everyone
world for brunch.
Morven's silence was damning.
Bryce smiled.
— That's what I thought. — She nodded at Sathia.
— One more thing: she doesn’t marry anyone and comes with us.
Sathia looked shocked at Bryce, who gave the female fae a warning
look. Bryce had only seen Sathia Flynn from afar, at parties. The female's
hair was often dyed various shades of shiny dark brown or blonde. Now
they were an ordinary light brown. Your natural color, perhaps. It was like
seeing the real female.
“I can't allow that,” said single female Morven. —, She's a
“Her brother is here,” Bryce said, indicating Flynn. — As much as he is

irresponsible and loves a party, at least he has the parts that you consider
important.
Flynn scowled, but Dec elbowed him hard enough for him to walk over
and say,
— I'll, uh, take responsibility for Sathia.
Sathia bristled like an angry cat, but kept her mouth shut.
“No,” Morven said, a shadow wrapping around his wrist like a bracelet.
A little idle, simple magic. — You are an unsuitable companion, as you
have demonstrated repeatedly.
Hunt glanced at Bryce and she knew what was going through his mind.
It was the same thing Ruhn said in his mind a second later:
As much as I hate to say this... maybe it's best to leave it alone.

Sathia is Flynn's sister and all, but this isn't our fight.
Bryce shook his head discreetly. Do you really want to leave her at
Morven's mercy?
Trust me, Bryce, Sathia knows how to take care of herself.
But Bryce looked at Lidia, who was watching everything with coolness and
concentration. Being silent all the time like that made others forget about his
presence. Even Morven, it seemed, hadn't noticed who was in the throne room,
for he let out a low grunt of surprise upon seeing her.
However, the Doe met Bryce's gaze. What would you do?,
Bryce tried to convey.
Lidia seemed to catch the direction of her thoughts, for she said
shorty:
— I never had anyone to fight for me.
Well, that solved the issue.
Bryce opened his mouth, gathering power in his star, but Tharion spoke
behind them.
— I marry Sathia.
***
It took Hypaxia seven hours, seven minutes, and seven seconds to resurrect
Sigrid.
Ithan barely moved from the bench the entire time Hypaxia stood next to
the corpse, chanting. Jesiba left, came back with her laptop and spent some
time working. She even offered some food to Ithan, who refused.
He wasn't hungry. If that didn't work...

Hypaxia's now hoarse singing suddenly stopped.
— Eu...
Ithan hadn't been able to watch as she sewed Sigrid's head back on. It
was only when she covered her body again that he continued to watch what
she was doing.
Hypaxia staggered away from the table. Away from the body under the
sheet. Ithan stood up instantly, holding her with his hand.
skill.
- What have you done? — Jesiba demanded, closing the laptop with
a click.
Ithan helped Hypaxia to her feet, and the former witch-queen looked
from one to the other, helpless and... terrified. Out of the corner of my eye,
something white moved.
Ithan turned as the body on the table sat down. As the sheet billowed,
revealing Sigrid's ashen face, her eyes closed. The thick, firm stitches in
an irregular line along the neck. She still wore her own clothes, stiff with
dried blood.
Stitches popping, Sigrid slowly turned her head.

But her chest... wouldn't rise or fall. She wasn't breathing.
The lost Fendyr heiress opened her eyes. Burning an acid-green

color.
“Reaper,” whispered Jesiba.
“I'm telling you, Ketos, she's terrible,” Flynn warned Tharion in the
shadows of the pillars that flanked one side of the throne room. Normal
shadows, thankfully. Not the horrible ones run by the Fae King. — It's a
terrible idea. It will end
your life.
— My life is already ruined — Tharion reminded him, his voice as
empty as he felt. — If we survive this, we can get a divorce.
—Fae don't get divorced. — Flynn grabbed his arm tightly. — It's
literally until death do us part.
— Well, I'm not fae...
—But she is. If you get divorced, she will have no chance of getting
married again. It will become corrupted. After the first marriage, the only
options are death or widowhood. A widow can remarry, but a divorcee...
That doesn't even exist. She would be persona non grata.
On the opposite side of the room, Declan and Ruhn were talking to
Sathia in low voices. It was quite possible that they were saying the
same things.
Morven watched them sullenly from his throne, the shadows a hissing
nest of vipers around him, the monstrous twins
flanking him on each side. Tharion detected the disgusting shadows

approaching his mind the moment the twins arrived. Out of instinct, he
raised a river, creating a mental moat around his mind. I had no idea what I
was doing, but it worked. The shadows drowned.
This only further supported the decision he had made. Having someone
forced to endure the presence of the murderous twins, to marry someone
who could pry into their mind...
Then Tharion said to Flynn: —
Your sister would only be an outcast among the fae. Normal people
They don't see any problems with divorce.
Flynn didn't move back an inch, his teeth flashing.
“She is Lord Hawthorne's daughter. You'll always want to marry a fae.
— She accepted my offer. — With the lowest and softest yes

that he had ever heard, but still. It was clear that he had accepted.
Flynn replied,
“Because she's desperate and scared. Do you think it's a
good state of mind to make any kind of decision?
Tharion held the male's gaze.
— I don't see anyone else offering to help you.
Flynn grumbled,
"Look, she's spoiled and petty and cruel as a snake, but she's
my younger sister.
— Then find some alternative to get her out of this and preferably one
that doesn't involve her death.
Flynn stared at him, furious, and Tharion returned the look in kind.
On the other side, Sathia passed Dec and Ruhn and advanced toward
them. She was short, but she had a presence that dominated the room. His
dark eyes were pure fire when they met Tharion's.
— Shall we get on with it?

The calm, bland tone was gone.
Bryce, Athalar, and Baxian watched from the back of the room, the Doe
a few steps to the side.
None of them expected the day to go like this. Starting with Tharion
running away from the Queen of the Ocean, and finally this total mess. But
if it were Lesia in Sathia's place... He would like someone to offer to help
her, whether they were a deserter or not.
Tharion said to Sathia:
— Yes. Let's go ahead.
Morven wasted no time in summoning a Priestess of Cthona. As if the
bastard was trying to figure out if Tharion was bluffing.
Less than five minutes later, Tharion had a wife.

***
“You,” Sigrid snapped at Ithan, her voice little more than a whisper.
whisper.
Ithan could barely process what he was hearing… what he was seeing.
- What happened? — Jesiba shouted to Hypaxia, who was still clinging

to Ithan, who, in turn, was leading the two towards the door.
But it was Sigrid who responded, a few stitches bursting

as his neck moved, revealing a brutal scar there.
— We arrived at a door. She wanted to go one way... — A smile twisted
her face. — I went to the other one.
Hypaxia shook her head frantically.
— She didn't want to come, she let go of my hand...
— I had no interest in leaving a prize like that
escape — let out a cold voice.
Even Jesiba stood up when the Under-King appeared at the morgue
door.
Just like on the night of the Autumnal Equinox, he wore robes
dark, weathered walls that floated on a phantom breeze.
— You had no right — challenged Hypaxia, passing by Ithan as all her
senses went into action with the Sub-King's supernatural presence, with
his eternal power. — I had no right to transform her...
—Am I not the lord of the dead? — He remained at the door, as if

hovering. — She didn’t have a sailboat. His soul was there for the
claiming. You offered an option, witch. I offered another.
He waved Sigrid closer, and she left the table as if she were alive.
As if he had never died. If it weren't for the acid green eyes and scars,
Ithan might have believed it.
Fendyr was a reaper. A half life, a walking corpse...
It was sacrilege. A disgrace.

And it was all his fault.
— What is the most attractive choice? — reflected the Sub-King
while Sigrid held his hand. — To be brought back by you, Hypaxia, to
be under your command and orders... or to be free?
“To serve you,” Hypaxia corrected with impressive firmness.
— Better me than you — countered the Sub-King. He then tilted his

head towards Ithan. —Young Holstrom. You have my gratitude. Her soul
could have wandered forever. She's in good hands now.
— What... what are you going to do? — Ithan dared to ask.

The Under-King looked at Sigrid and smiled, revealing large, brown
teeth.
— Come, my pet. You have a lot to learn.
But Sigrid turned to Ithan, and he felt a whirlwind of emotion.
repulsed by himself when he hears the grim reaper's
voice: — You killed me.
- I am really sorry. — Words weren’t enough. They would never be
enough.
— I won't forget that.
He wouldn't forget either. As long as he lived. He held her gaze,
hating those acid green eyes, the death written in them...
— We'll talk soon — said the Sub-King to Jesiba, more of a warning

than an invitation. Before Jesiba could respond, the Under-King and
Sigrid disappeared in a dark wind.
Only when her shadow fragments disappeared from the morgue did
Jesiba say: — What a disaster.
Hypaxia was staring at her hands, as if she was trying to overcome

her mistake.
Ithan couldn't stop the tremor that gripped him from head to toe, right
down to his bones.
- Fix it.
Hypaxia didn't look up.
Ithan growled, his heart racing, “Fix
this.”
Jesiba clicked her tongue.
— What's done is done, doggy.
— I refuse to accept this. — Ithan showed her his teeth and
then pointed to Hypaxia. — Undo what you just did.
Hypaxia slowly looked at him. Desolate, pleading, tired.
- Ithan...
—Fix it! Ithan roared, the witch's necromantic instruments rattling to
the sound of his voice. He didn't care. Nothing mattered beyond that. —
FIX HER! — Ithan went after Jesiba. — Did you know this would happen?
— His voice broke.
Jesiba gave him an expressionless look.
— No. And if you use that tone with me again...
— There may be a way — Hypaxia commented softly.
Even Jesiba seemed surprised, turning next to Ithan to
face the ancient witch queen.
— When the dead cross the threshold of the House of Reapers...
Hypaxia's gaze met Ithan's and remained firm,
pain giving way to the purest determination.
—Necromancy can take you to that threshold and it can also pull you
back.
- As? — asked Jesiba. Ithan could barely breathe.
— We need a thunderbird.
Jesiba raised her hands.
— There are none left.
“Sofie Renast was thunder,” Ithan said, more to himself than to

the other females. — We think her brother could be too, but...
— Sofie Renast is dead — said Jesiba.

Hypaxia just asked: —
Where is her body? — The question sounded like a death knell in
the morgue.
Jesiba managed to respond before Ithan.
— After this disaster — she said, pointing to the examination
table where Sigrid had been placed moments before, the sheet finally
discarded on the floor next to it. Do you
—,really want to try to resurrect
the dead again?
“Sofie has been dead too long to be resurrected,” Ithan reminded
him, nausea churning in his stomach. And, he didn't add, he couldn't
help but agree with Roga about Hypaxia's track record.
— If she didn't get a Sailboat, then it should work. Although the

state of decomposition of her body must be... deplorable. — Hypaxia
walked around the room. —She must still have enough lightning in
her veins to bridge the gap between life and death. Thunderbirds
were once able to aid necromancers, to use their lightning to hold the
souls of the dead. They could even imbue their power into common
objects, such as weapons, and bestow magical properties...
— And do you think that this could somehow cause

Sigrid stop being a reaper? asked Ithan.
— I think the lightning can bring her soul back to life — said
Hypaxia — and give her the chance to make the choice again.
A few days as a reaper might change her mind.
Silence reigned. Ithan looked at Jesiba, but the sorceress
remained silent, as if weighing Hypaxia's every word.
Ithan swallowed.
- Will it work?
Jesiba didn’t take her eyes off Hypaxia as she said softly,
“Maybe.”
— But where is her body? — pressed Ithan. — The last news I heard from
my friends was that the body was with the Queen of the Ocean, on her ship.
She could have sent it through the airlock, for all we know...
— Give me thirty minutes — asked Jesiba, and didn't wait for a second.
answer before leaving the room.
***
There was nothing to do but wait. Ithan had no desire to do anything except
sit at the table and stare at his hands.
His useless, blood-stained hands.
He had tried to save Sigrid from the Astronomer and ended up killing her.
And then he had his corpse turned into a reaper. Every choice they made took
them from bad to worse and, finally, to catastrophe.
Jesiba passed through the metal doors of the morgue exactly

thirty minutes later.
“Well, it took more bribes than I would have liked, but I have good news
and bad news,” she said.
— The good first — said Ithan, finally looking up from his hands. Hypaxia
sat in the other chair the entire time, silent and thoughtful.
— I know where Sofie's body is — said Jesiba.

— And the bad news? — asked Hypaxia softly.
Jesiba looked from one to the other, her gray eyes shining.
— It's in Avallen. With the Deer King.
Ruhn had no idea how Bryce had held himself back from killing
Morven. He also couldn't say how he managed to do the same.
But they wasted no time getting to work. Even though, from what
they had agreed, Bryce was on Team Caverns, she insisted on
checking the files first.
The Avallen Archives were as imposing and enormous as Ruhn
remembered from his last and only visit to Avallen. True, he had never
been allowed inside, but from its gray exterior, the building rivaled the
Freighter of the Deep in size. An entire city of learning, locked behind
leaden doors.
Only for access by the royal bloodlines — the royal males.

— Do we really have to work? — Flynn complained, rubbing his
head. — Can't we chill out for a bit? This place gives me the creeps...
I need to relax.
Athalar glanced at Flynn.
— He gives us all goosebumps.
“No,” said Flynn seriously, shaking his head. — I already told
you... My magic hates this place.
- What do you mean? asked Bryce, looking at him over his
shoulder.
Flynn shrugged.
— The earth looks... rotten. As if there was nothing my magic could latch
onto or identify with. Is weird.
It also bothered me the first time we were here.
— He kept complaining when we were here —
Declan agreed, and Flynn elbowed him in the ribs.
But Flynn pointed with his chin at Sathia, who was alone a few feet away.
— You feel that way too, right?

The sister twisted her elegant mouth and
admitted: — My magic is strange in Avallen too. What my
brother is talking is not entirely without reason.
“Well,” Bryce said, “hang in there, Flynn. I think a big, tough Fae male like
you can get through that.
Let's relax tonight. Tomorrow we will split into Team Archives and Team Caves
and work as fast as we can.
She raised her hand to one of the lead doors, but without touching it.
—But, believe me, I don't want to stay on this miserable island for a
second longer than necessary.
— I agree — Athalar murmured, approaching Bryce — let's find what we
need and get out.
— What are we looking for, exactly? asked Sathia.
— Everything you told me about the other fae world and what you learned...
I'm sorry, but I need a little more guidance to continue when we get there.
Since we're all enemies of the asteri, what's wrong with one more person
knowing about our stops? Bryce asked when Flynn demanded that Sathia
stay behind.
And Sathia refused to be left alone, even though the security of her status
as a married female guaranteed her the right to move freely. I'm not going to
be locked in some room to rot, he said, and walked behind Bryce, who began
to explain everything he had learned about Theia and her daughters and the
history of the fae inside and outside Midgard. Sathia hadn't said a word
word with Tharion since they exchanged their vows; and the merman seemed
to take it well too.
It was all crazy. But Ruhn had heard what Lidia had said to Bryce about
never having anyone to fight for her. He didn't feel good when he heard that.
Ruhn dared to look where Lidia was, observing the imposing entrance to
the archives. He didn't fail to notice how shocked Morven was to realize she
was in the throne room. And when they left, the Stag King seemed about to
try to talk to Lidia, but the Doe passed him before he had the chance to do
so.
His golden eyes met Ruhn's, and he could have sworn pure fire pulsed
through his body...
He looked away quickly.
Sathia asked Bryce, “What
if you don't find the answers you're looking for?
“Then we're screwed,” Bryce said in all words, and finally pressed his
palm against the archive doors. A tremor seemed to run through the metal.
With a creak, the doors opened inward, revealing nothing but darkness
dappled with sunlight. Ruhn exchanged glances with Dec, whose eyebrows
were raised at the building's display of submission. But Bryce passed quickly,
Athalar and Baxian close behind.
— So you really intend to enter the Cave of the Princes?

— Sathia asked Bryce as they entered the dark space.
“I know it's likely that the presence of a female will cause the cave walls
to come crashing down out of sheer outrage,” Bryce said, his voice echoing
in the enormous dome above them, “but yes.
Ruhn laughed and looked up at the dome. It was a mosaic of onyx
stones, interspersed with pieces of opal and diamond — stars. A crescent
moon of pure mother-of-pearl occupied the top of it, shining in the dim light.
It bore an uncanny resemblance to the Ocean Queen's sharp nails.
Sathia followed Bryce and asked softly, “And…

is that really her?” The knife?
“Shocking, I know,” Bryce said. — The party girl carrying the prophet...
— No — interrupted Sathia —, That wasn't my intention.

Bryce paused, turning, and Ruhn knew that Athalar was monitoring
Sathia's every word, every movement as Flynn's sister explained:
— I was wondering what that means. Not just in relation to the asteri
and his conflict with them. But what does this mean for the Fae?
“A lot of nothing,” Flynn snorted.

— We were told that our people would come together again when this
knife was returned — replied Sathia, harshly. Her tone was softer as she
asked Bryce, “Is this part of... some plan of yours?” Unite the fae?
Bryce looked through the rows and rows of shelves and said
coldly:
— The fae do not deserve to be united.
Even Ruhn froze. He never thought about what Bryce could do as a
leader, but...
— Come on, Quinlan — Athalar protested, putting his arm around her
shoulders, deciding to change the subject — let's explore.
“Okay, okay,” Bryce murmured, “I guess it's a bit too hopeful to think
there would be a digital catalog here, so... I guess we'll have to do it the old
fashioned way. — She pointed ahead, at the wall occupied by a card
catalog. —Look for any mention of the sword and the knife, anything about
the mists that guard this place, Pelias and Helena... Maybe even things
about the early days of Avallen, whether during the First Wars or soon after.
“That's... a lot to look for,” Flynn commented.

“I bet you wish you had learned to read,” he commented.
sarcastically Sathia, walking towards the catalogue.
- I know how to read! — Flynn grumbled. Then he murmured: — I just find it
boring.
Ruhn laughed, and the sound echoed near him. Lidia.
That exchange of looks between them again. Ruhn said, a little awkwardly,
to her: — We better
get to work.
Such a large catalog could take days to sift through.
Even more so because there were no librarians or academics in sight. Come to
think of it, the place had an abandoned air about it. Empty. The castle too, as
well as the small town and the surrounding lands.
Everything seemed so mysterious, so strange when he had arrived here,
decades before: the famous misty island of Avallen. Now all he could think
about was Cormac, growing up in darkness and silence.
All that fire, dampened by this place.
And yet, he loved his people. I wanted to do right by them. By everyone on
Midgard too.
Cormac had come from here. There had to be something good about this place. Ruhn
I just had no idea what it would be.
The Fae do not deserve to be united.
Bryce's words hung in the air, as if they were still echoing in the dome. And
Ruhn didn't know why, but as the words settled in the darkness... they made
him sad.
After a few tense minutes, Declan said: — Well, that's
interesting.
He was at the nearest table, what appeared to be a stack of maps unrolled
in front of him. A large map—of Midgard—was open on top.
Ruhn walked over to his friends, grateful for the break from the task.
- What it was? — The others followed his example, gathering around the
table.
Dec pointed to Avallen on the map, the paper yellowed by the
time, despite the preservation spells on it.
— I thought looking at old maps might give us some insight into the mists...
You know, seeing how ancient cartographers represented them and such. And
then I found this.
Athalar rubbed his neck and said: — At
the risk of being teased... what am I for?
looking?
“There are islands here,” explained Declan. —, dozens.
The penny dropped.
“There shouldn't be any islands around Avallen,” Ruhn said.

Bryce approached, running his fingers across the archipelago.
— When is this map from?
“From the First Wars,” Dec replied, and pulled another map from the
bottom of the pile. —This is Midgard now. There are no islands in this area
except the one we are on.
— Ou seja... — disse Baxian.
“That is,” said Dec, irritated. —, Isn't it strange that they had
islands fifteen thousand years ago and have disappeared?
Tharion cleared his throat.
— I mean, the sea level rises...
Dec gave everyone a withering look and pulled out a third map.
— This map is from a hundred years after the First Wars —

Ruhn examined him. No islands.
On the other side of the table, Lidia evaluated the different maps in
silence. She looked up at Ruhn, and he couldn't stop his heartbeat from
speeding up, his blood from vibrating at her proximity...
"All those islands," muttered Bryce, "were gone in a flash."

one hundred years.
“Soon after the asteri arrived,” Athalar added, and Ruhn looked away
from Lidia long enough to consider what was before them.
He said:
— Well, despite the mists, Avallen seems to have no problem revealing
its shape and coastline to the Asteri, for the official maps of the empire. Why
hide the islands?
— There are no islands at all — said Sathia softly. — The ones on that
first map... — She pointed along the northwest coast. — We sailed from that
direction. We didn't see a single island. The fog could have hidden some of
them, but we should have seen at least one.
“I've never seen or heard any mention of other islands here,” agreed
Flynn.
They remained silent, looking at the three maps as if they were going
to reveal some great secret.
Finally, Dec shook his head.
— Something happened here a long time ago... something big. But
what?
— And — Lidia murmured, the cadence of her voice sending shivers of
pleasure down Ruhn's back — is this knowledge useful to us?
Bryce tapped his hand on the oldest map and Ruhn could almost see
the gears turning in his head.
— Silene said something in her memoirs about the island that had once
belonged to her court. — Bryce's face took on a distant expression, as if he
was trying to remember the exact words. —She said the earth...withered.
That when she started housing those monsters to hide the Harp's presence,
Prison Island became barren. And the Ocean Queen said that the islands
literally withered into the sea in despair when the Asteri arrived.
- Then? asked Flynn.

Bryce's gaze sharpened again.
— It seems strange that two faerie strongholds, both islands, were once
archipelagos, and that both lost everything except the central island as a
result of the arrival of... unpleasant forces.
Ruhn raised his eyebrows.

— I can't believe you're actually speaking your mind, for the first time.
Bryce gave him the middle finger while Athalar laughed. She nodded,
determined.
— Archives Team: keep investigating this.
The others dispersed again to resume their search, but
Bryce grabbed Ruhn by the elbow before he could move:
- What it was? he asked, looking at where her hand touched him.
held.
Bryce's gaze was resolute.
— We can't afford to waste time.
— I know — said Ruhn — let's look for it as quickly as possible.

we can.
“A few days,” Bryce said, letting go of his arm. She looked at the sealed
front doors of the archives, at the island beyond. — I don't think we'll have
more than that before Morven decides it's in his best interest to tell the
Asteri we're here, and fuck the risks that would pose to his people. Or
before the Asteri mystics discover our location.
“Perhaps the mists can also keep out mystical eyes,” Ruhn suggested.
— Maybe, but I'd rather not find out the hard way. A few days, Ruhn...
then we'll get out of here.
“It may take longer to explore the caves,” Ruhn warned. —Are you
sure there's anything there that's worth it?
From what I could see, there were some useless things like decorations
on the walls and a lot of misty tunnels. It would be much faster to go
through the files if everyone analyzed the catalog together.
“I have to check out the caves,” Bryce said quietly.
—, just in case.
It was then that he understood, and the realization was like a bucket of
ice water. Bryce wasn't sure she could find anything to help her bring the
blades together. To kill the asteri.
Then Ruhn squeezed her shoulder.
“We'll find out, Bryce.
She gave a baleful smile. All Ruhn could do was give back.
***
They found nothing more about the missing islands, the mists, or the sword
and knife in the hours they spent searching the catalog.
They had barely begun to sort through the vast catalog when Bryce
decided it was time to stop and go to dinner, his hands so dry they hurt
from all the dust.
In silence, the group walked to the castle's dining room.
What a long, damn day! Each of his laborious steps seemed
echo the sentiment.

The dining room was empty, although a small buffet of food had been
served for them.
"I think we're early," Tharion said as the group surveyed the firelit
room, its faded tapestries depicting fae hunts of times past. The prey was
in the center of one of them: a white horse chained and collared.
Bryce started. It wasn't a horse. It was a winged horse.
So they had survived there; at least for a few generations. Before they
died or the fae hunted them to extinction.
— We didn't arrive early — said Sathia next to Tharion, her face tense.
— The formal dinner started fifteen minutes ago. If I were to guess, I'd
say it was moved to another location.
— Nobody wants to eat with us? Hunt asked.
Bryce said,
“They must consider us unworthy of their presence. — Hunt, Baxian
and Tharion turned to her with incredulous expressions.
Bryce shrugged. — Welcome to my life. — Hunt was frowning deeply,
and Bryce added, unable to contain himself, — You don't need to feel
guilty about this, you know.
He looked irritated at her and the others quickly went to busy
themselves with other things.
- What does that mean? Hunt asked softly.
It wasn't the time or the place, but Bryce said,
“I can't understand you. Like, whether you want to be here or not.
“Obviously I want to,” Hunt replied, his eyes shining.

She didn't back down.
— One moment you're all involved, the next you're all glum and guilty...
— Don't I have the right to feel this way? he hissed. You

others had already arrived at the table.
“Yes,” she said, keeping her voice low, even though she knew the
others could hear them. One of the disadvantages of living
with vanir. — But each of us made choices that led us to all of this. The weight
of these choices doesn't just fall on you, and it's not...
— I don't want to talk about it. — He started walking towards the center of
the room.
—Hunt? — she called. He kept walking, wings well
closed.
Across the room, she met Baxian's gaze, who was pulling out a chair at
the table. He needs time, the Hellhound seemed to say. Be kind to him.
Bryce sighed, shaking his head. She could do this.

They helped themselves and sat in random places along the huge table,
big enough to seat forty people: Ruhn, Flynn, Sathia and Dec in a group;
Tharion, Baxian, Hunt and Bryce in another. Lidia claimed a seat next to
Bryce, definitely not looking where Ruhn was watching them.
— So this is Avallen — Lidia commented, breaking the awkward silence.
“Don't tell me,” Bryce murmured, “I'm trying not to be impressed by how
glamorous it is.
— This reminds me of my father's house — Lidia said softly, eating the
potatoes and lamb. Abundant and simple food. It certainly wasn't the fine feast
Morven and his court were eating elsewhere.
— They should both sign the Medieval Life — joked Bryce, and Lidia's
mouth curved into a smile.
It was so strange to see the Doe smile. Like a person.
The males must have been thinking the same thing, because Baxian
asked: —
How long, Lidia? How long have you been a spy?
Lidia cut the meat delicately.
— How long ago did you start to believe in the cause?
— Since I met my partner, Danika Fendyr. Four years ago.
Bryce's chest tightened at the pride in his voice—and the pain. His fingers
itched with the desire to stretch his arm across the
table to take his hand, just as he had done the night before.
But Lidia blinked slowly. And he said, in a soft
voice: — I'm sorry, Baxian.
Baxian nodded in acknowledgement. Then he said to Lidia and Hunt:
— I kind of can't get over being here with you two. Considering
where we were not that long ago.
Who we were.
“I understand,” Bryce murmured.
Hunt tested the cut of a knife with his thumb and then sliced the
meat on his plate.
—Urd acts in mysterious ways, I imagine.
Lidia's eyes lit up. Hunt raised the glass of water to her.
— Thanks for saving us.

— It was nothing — she replied, cutting the lamb again.
Baxian put down his fork.
— You risked everything you had. We owe you one.
Bryce looked at the table and noticed Ruhn watching them. She
scowled at her brother, as if to say, Join the conversation, you idiot, but
Ruhn ignored her.
Lidia's mouth opened in a half-smile.
— Find a way to kill the asteri and we'll be even.
The rest of dinner was peaceful, and Bryce found herself so tired
that when she finished her plate, she just wanted to lie down somewhere.
Fortunately, one person in the castle deigned to speak to them: an
older fey female who grumpily said she would show them to their rooms.
Even if they weren't welcome, at least they were given decent

accommodation, all in the same hallway. Bryce didn't notice who slept
with who, focusing only on being led to her own room, but he didn't fail
to notice the awkwardness between Tharion and Sathia as they were
led together to a door in the middle of the hallway.
Bryce sighed as she and Hunt entered their room. She wished she
had the energy to talk to Ruhn, to really feel
go deeper and know what it was like to go through what he had been
through, what he was feeling, but...
“I need to lie down,” Bryce said, and fell face down on the bed.
“Today was strange,” Hunt commented, helping to remove his sheathed
sword and dagger. He placed them carefully beside the bed and then slowly
turned her over. - Are you well?
Bryce looked at his face, at the halo on his forehead.
— I really hope we find something here that makes it all worth it.
Hunt sat down next to her, taking out his own weapons and placing them
on a side table.
— Are you worried that we won't find anything all of a sudden?
Bryce stood up, unable to sit still despite her exhaustion. She
walked back and forth in front of the roaring fire.
- I don't know. It's not like I was expecting a giant neon sign in the archives
saying Answers Here!, but if the Asteri are going after Flynn's family... — She
hadn't allowed herself to think about it before. There was nothing I could do
from there, without a phone or internet. — So they're going after mine.
— Randall and Ember know how to take care of themselves. — But Hunt
stood up, walking over to her and taking her hands. “They're going to be fine.
— His hands were warm around hers, solid. She closed her eyes at the
touch, savoring his love and comfort. — We'll get there, Quinlan. You have
traveled between worlds. This is nothing in comparison.
— Don't provoke Urd.

- I'm not. I'm just telling the truth. Don't lose faith now.
Bryce sighed, examining the tattoo on his forehead.
— We need to find a way to get this out of you.
— It's not the biggest priority. - And
yes. I need you in your full power. — The words came out wrong, and
she amended: — I need you to be free of them.
- I go. We all go.

Looking into his dark eyes, she believed him.
— I'm sorry about earlier. If I pushed you too much.

- I am fine. — His voice didn't sound good.
— I wasn't trying to tell you how you should feel —
she said. — I just want you to know that none of us, especially me,
hold you responsible for all this shit. We are a team.
He looked down, and she hated seeing it, seeing his wings droop.
“I don't know if I can do this again, Bryce.
She felt a pang in her heart.
- Do what?
— Making choices that cost people their lives. — He looked at her
again, his gaze dark. — It was easier for Shahar, you know. She didn't
care about other people's lives, not really.
And he died so quickly that he didn't have to bear the weight of guilt
that might have arisen later. Sometimes I envy her for that. I envied
her for that, back then. For escaping it all through
death.
“That's ancient Umbra Mortis speaking,” Bryce said, finding humor
amid the cold wave of pain and concern in his words, his lifeless tone.
— Maybe we need Umbra Mortis now.

She didn't like that. Not even a little.
— I need Hunt, not an armored assassin. I need my partner. —
She kissed his cheek. - I need you.
The darkness in his eyes brightened, bringing some relief to him.

her heart, reassuring her.
She kissed his cheek again.
— I know it would be better to go take a shower and sleep and
use the potty or whatever the fuck they call a bathroom in this museum,
but...
- But? — He raised his eyebrows.

Bryce stood on tiptoe, brushing her mouth against his. And his
taste... Gods, yes.
—But I need to feel you first.
He squeezed her waist.
— Damn, it took a while, huh?

There was more to be discussed, of course. But now...
He lowered his face to hers, and Bryce met him halfway, an intense,
free and… happy kiss. Home, eternity and everything she had fought for.
Everything I would continue to fight for.
From the way he kissed her back, she knew Hunt had noticed it too. I
hoped he would let any trace of remorse burn away.
“I love you,” he said against Bryce's mouth, and deepened the kiss.
She choked back a sob of relief, hugging his neck. Hunt's hands slid to her
ass and he lifted her, walking slowly to the huge four-poster bed.
Clothes were torn off. Mouths met, explored and tasted. Fingers
caressed and squeezed. Then Hunt was on top of her and Bryce let his
happiness, all his magic shine through her.
“Look at you,” Hunt whispered, hips flexing under his arms.

her hands, his cock teasing her entrance. — Look at you.
Bryce smiled as he let more of that power shine through.
hers: the starry light was so silvery that it created shadows on the bed.
- Did you like it?
Hunt's thrust, penetrating her to the hilt, was the answer.

“Fuck, you're so beautiful,” he whispered. Lightning formed on his
wings, on his forehead. As if that power couldn't help but respond to her,
even with the halo that diminished it.
Bryce moaned as he pulled out, almost pulling out of her, only to go back to
fucking her.
Hunt angled her hips so he could thrust deeper. And when his cock
brushed Bryce's innermost part, lightning flickered above her, in her...
Partner. Husband. Prince. Hunt.

“Yes,” Hunt said, and she must have expressed her thoughts out loud,
because he fucked her deeper, harder. — I fucking love you, Bryce.
Her magic rose at his words, a rising tide. Or maybe it was her climax
coming, building along with his. Everything he had was not enough. I
wanted more, to be closer, I wanted to be in him, in his blood...
“Solas, Bryce,” Hunt growled, thrusting into her in one long, sensual
motion. — I can't... — She didn't want him to do that. She grabbed his
ass, digging her nails deep in a silent thrust. “Bryce,” he warned, without
stopping fucking her. Lightning crackled and snaked around them, an
avalanche rushing toward them.
“Don't stop,” she begged.

Their magics collided—their souls. It spread across
stars, across the galaxies, lightning gliding in their wake.
She had the vague sensation of Hunt being thrown along with her, of
her scream of ecstasy and surprise.
They knew their bodies remained united in some distant world, but
here, in this place between places, the two of them merged into one,
crossed and transferred and becoming something more.
Stars, planets, and rainbow clouds swirled around them, the darkness
cut through by lightning brighter than the sun. Sun and moon held
together in perfect balance, suspended in the same sky. And below
them, far below, she could see Avallen, vibrating with her magic, so
much magic, as if Avallen were the very source of it, as if they were the
very source of all magic and light and love...
Then it disappeared. Everything returned to soft colors, warm air and
heavy breathing. The weight of Hunt's body on top of hers, his cock still
pulsing inside her, his wings spread above them both.
“Holy shit,” Hunt said, standing up enough to
look at her. — Holy shit... damn it.
It had been more than fucking, or sex, or making love. Hunt looked
at her, starlight shining in her hair. Just as she knew the lightning passed
through hers.
“It was like my power entered you,” Hunt said, his eyes tracking the
lightning as it slid through her body. - AND
your.
“Just as mine is yours,” she said, touching a lock of

starlight shining through the black locks of her hair.
“I feel strange,” he admitted, but didn't move. - I feel...
She felt it then. Finally understood. What it always was, the name she had
learned in the other world.
“Done,” Bryce whispered with a hint of fear. —That's what it looks like.
Any power that can flow between us... so can my Horn-Made power.
Hunt looked down at himself, where their bodies remained joined. She felt
a pang of guilt, then, that she hadn't yet told him everything she knew about
the other Made objects in the universe—about the Masquerade, the Treasures.
— I think it flows both ways: my power to you and yours to me.
Hunt smiled and scanned the room around them.

— At least it doesn't look like we'll be stopping in one place
new every time we have sex.
Bryce riu.
— That's a relief. I don't think Morven would have appreciated
our naked asses appearing in his room.
“Absolutely not,” Hunt agreed, kissing her forehead. He brushed aside a
strand of hair. — But what difference does it make?
Are we connected in this way?
Bryce lifted her head to kiss him.
— Something else for us to discover.
— Team Caverns until the end — he said next to Bryce's mouth.
She laughed, their breaths mixing, intertwining like their souls.
— I said we should have ordered t-shirts.

Tharion was in that ancient room, all stone, complete with a bed with curtains
and tapestries on the wall, and he had no idea what to say to his wife.
And it seems that Sathia Flynn had no idea what to say either, because
she went to sit in a carved wooden chair in front of the roaring fireplace and
look at the fire.
They had barely exchanged two words all day. But there,
having to share a room...
— You can have the bed — he said, his tone high, resounding in the
room.
— Thank you — she replied, hugging her body. The firelight sparkled in
her light brown hair, making the golden locks shine.
— I don't, uh... I don't expect anything to happen.

She threw him a wry look over her shoulder.
- Great. Me either.
“That's good,” he repeated, shivering as he walked to the window. The
starless night was a dark wall beyond, broken only by a few bright fires in the
farmhouses. — Does it get... less gloomy around here?
AND
— It's my first visit, so I can't say. — Her tone was a little harsh, as if
she wasn't used to speaking normally to people, but she added: — I hope
so.
Tharion walked to the wooden chair in front of hers and

sank into it. The damn thing was hard as Hell. He moved, trying to find a
more comfortable angle, but gave up after a few moments and said:
— Let's start from the beginning. My name is Tharion Ketos. Former

captain of the Queen of Rio's Intelligence...
— I know who you are — she said softly, the soft tone contradicting the
iron calm in her gaze.
He raised an eyebrow. - And
even? this is good or bad?
She shook her head.
— I am Sathia Flynn, daughter of Lord Hawthorne.
- AND?
She tilted her head to the side, strands of her long hair
falling over one shoulder.
—What else needs to be said?
He pretended to think.
- Favourite colour?
- Blue.
- Favorite food?
— Raspberry pie.
He let out a laugh. - It
is serious?
She frowned.
— What's the problem with that?
— Nothing — he said, adding: — I like cheese snacks.
She made a noise that sounded like laughter. But the sound disappeared
when she asked, “Why?”
He marked the motifs on his fingers.

— They're crunchy, full of cheese...
— No. I meant... why did you do that? — She gestured between them.
Tharion hesitated about how to tell his story, but...

— I don't see why not to come clean and make our agreement based on
honesty. — He sighed. — I'm a wanted male. The Viper Queen has a bounty
of five million gold marks on my head.
She choked.
- Countryside?
- Surprise! — he said, adding: — Sorry.

I think... maybe it would have been better to mention this earlier.
— Oh, do you think so? — But she composed herself, putting on a calm,
practiced expression on her pale features before saying for the third time: —
Why?
— I... may have been indirectly responsible for the Meat Market fire, and
now she wants to kill me. This was after I defected from the River Queen,
who, oh, also wants to kill me. And then the Ocean Queen took me in and
forbade me from leaving her ship, but I disobeyed orders and ran away, and
now here I am and... I'm not doing a good job of looking like a good catch,
am I?
— My father is going to have a piripaque — said Sathia. Something like
mischievous amusement flashed in his eyes.
A little sense of humor was hope for him.
— As happy as I am to hear that — said Tharion, the smile increasing a
—,that I screwed up. — The
few millimeters, it was a lot of words to say...
memory of Sigrid's corpse flashed before his eyes and he pushed her away.
- Very -
he added.
— So this is some attempt at redemption? — Any amusement disappeared
from her face. — It's an attempt to be
able to look at myself in the mirror again — he said deliberately. —
Knowing that I did something good, at some point, for someone else.
“Okay,” she said, then looked back at the fire.

— You seem, uh… a little calm about this whole thing.
marriage.
— I grew up knowing that my destiny would be to one day get married. —

The words were monotonous.
—But you thought you'd marry a fae...
— I don't feel like talking about the expectations that have been placed on
me my entire life — she said with the authority of a queen. — Or the doors
that are now closed to me.
I'm alive and I didn't have to marry Bronco One or Bronco Two, so...yeah, I'm
okay with that.
— This snooping into minds thing didn't appeal to you, did it?
— They are brutish and threatening, even without mental gifts.
I abhor them both.
— It's good to know you have standards. — Tharion extended his hand to
her. — Nice to meet you, Sathia.
She took the offered hand carefully, her delicate fingers
against his. But the handshake was firm; unshakable.
— Nice to meet you too...husband.
***
It dawned in Avallen, although Lidia had never seen a sunrise before.

of the sun so gloomy. It's true that, due to her restless sleep the night before,
she was in no mood to enjoy the sunrise, whether it was clear or cloudy. But
as he stood on one of the castle's small balconies overlooking the mountainous
landscape, his arms resting on the lichen-encrusted stone railing, he couldn't
help but wonder if Avallen had ever seen sunlight.
The town—which was more of a village, really—was built atop a rugged hill
and offered views from every street of the surrounding green countryside, the
land a patchwork of small farms and picturesque estates. A land lost to time,
and not in a good way.
Even Ravilis, Sandriel's old stronghold, was more modern than this. There
wasn't even a trace of primalux anywhere. The fae there used candles.
And apparently they had been ordered, if the unusually quiet streets
were any indication, to avoid visitors as much as possible. But she
could have sworn that countless fae were watching her from the closed
windows of the ancient-looking houses that lined the streets leading to
the castle. She always knew that Morven ruled with an iron fist, but this
submission was beyond what she expected.
He had barely slept a wink the night before. She couldn't stop seeing
her children's faces when she left that room, or how they blended with
the memory of their faces as babies, sleeping so peacefully, so
beautifully, in their cribs the night she looked at them one last time. time
before leaving. To leave the Freighter of the Deep and enter the
submersible capsule.
I felt like I was dying, both then and now. It felt like Luna had shot a
poisoned arrow and she was bleeding, an invisible wound leaking out
into the world, and there was nothing that could be done to heal it.
Lidia rubbed her hands over her face, her cheeks feeling cold.
Maybe it would have been better if I hadn't seen them again. Never
returning to the ship and not reopening that wound.
No torture Pollux or Rigelus invented would hurt more than this. The
cold wind was blowing, whistling through the narrow streets of the mist-
shrouded ancient city.
Below her, in the courtyard, Bryce and Athalar, Baxian, Tharion, and
the merman's new bride prepared to leave. Ruhn and his two friends
were with them, speaking in low voices. Without a doubt, once again
going over everything they knew about the Cave of the Princes.
She didn't know why she had come here. They didn't bother to tell
her they were going or to invite her to come along. Baxian finally looked
up, feeling or seeing Lidia, and raised his hand in farewell. Lidia returned
the gesture.
The rest of the group turned around as well, Bryce waving a
little more enthusiasm than the others.
Flynn and Dec just nodded. Ruhn looked up and looked away
instantly. With one last hug for his sister, the fairy prince returned to the
castle and disappeared from sight,
accompanied by two friends. Bryce and his team headed towards the
castle gates. To the field beyond, still half asleep in the gray light.
Shadows whispered on the stones of the porch, and Lidia didn't care.
She turned to look at Morven as he approached her.
— How sentimental, you saying goodbye to them.
Lidia kept her gaze fixed on the group heading towards a
cluster of taller hills that rose into the horizon.
- What do you want?
He hissed at her impudence.
— You are a filthy traitor.
Lidia finally glanced at the Fae King. He contemplated his
pale and detestable face.
—And you are a fearful coward who rejected his own son at the first
sign of trouble.
—If you had any honor, any understanding of royal duties, you would
understand why I did this. — Shadows intertwined on the shoulders of
his beautiful black jacket, with silver embroidery. The Stag King, they
called him. It was an insult to the deer shifters. The fae male had no
affinity with beasts, despite his throne, made from the bones of some
noble and slaughtered beast. — You would know that there are more
important things than your own children.
There was nothing more important. Anything. She was here, on that
island, back at work once again, because there would never be anything
more important than the two boys she had left on the Freighter of the
Deep.
— I liked seeing you humiliate yourself, you know — teased Lidia.
And she had liked it... despite everything, she loved every second of
Morven kneeling before the asteri. Just as he was loving seeing the fury
that gripped him at this humiliation thrown back in his face.
“I have no doubt someone as heartless as you loved it,” Morven
sneered. —But I wonder: if a better offer comes along, will you betray
these friends as easily as you betrayed your masters?
Lidia's fingers curled at her sides, but she kept her face impassive.
— Are you in a bad mood because you couldn't see the real me, Morven,
or because I witnessed your shameful moment? The moment you traded
loyalty to your son for your own life?
He seethed, his shadows ready to strike.

— You don't know anything about loyalty.
Lidia gave a low laugh and looked at the five figures heading towards
the greenery of the field. Towards the red-haired female in the center of the
group.
— I never had a leader who awakened feelings.
Morven noticed the direction of his gaze and grimaced.
— You're an idiot for following her.
Lidia glanced at him sideways, moving away from the stone wall of the
balcony.
— You're an idiot if you don't — she said softly, walking towards the arch
that led into the castle. — It will be your ruin. And from Avallen.
Morven growled:
- Is this a threat?
Lidia continued walking, leaving the enemy and the gloomy twilight
behind.
— Just professional advice.
***
"So, all that talk, all that myth and anguish about the Cave of the Princes,"
Hunt said to Bryce, sweating a little from the hours-long journey across the
rolling fields to this craggy cluster of hills, the castle now a lonely peak. on
the horizon behind them: — And that's what this is about?
Bryce looked back.

— Disappointing, isn't it?
The entrance to the cave was little bigger than a crack between two
rocks. Ancient, time-worn runes were
etched into the rocks, but that was all that differentiated this place from
any other crack in the rock.
That and the mist coming out of the darkness.
— Morven needs a decorator — commented Tharion, peering into
the darkness. — I think he could go beyond the theme of shadows and
unhappiness of his ancestors.
“He likes it that way,” said Sathia. — The way Avallen was when it
was built... just after the end of the First Wars. His father kept
everything as it was, and his grandfather too, until he arrived at Pelias
himself.
Hunt exchanged a look with Bryce. That was exactly why I was
there. If there was a place where any truth could be preserved, it was
there. He didn't like the idea of going into a cave; Some intrinsic part
of him resisted the idea of being so far from the wind, so far below
ground, trapped again. But he forced himself to overcome the flash of
panic and dread and said to Sathia: — Can you tell
how the mists keep the asteri away from Avallen? — She didn't
give the information herself the day before, but maybe that was
because they hadn't thought to ask.
“No,” replied Sathia. —Rumor is that the magic of the mists

It is so old that it even predates the arrival of the Asteri.
“Well,” Tharion said, gesturing dramatically to the ladies first, —,
Legs.
“What a gentleman,” Bryce replied.
“You're the one with the built-in flashlight,” Hunt reminded her.
She rolled her eyes and said to Sathia, who was wary.
— One piece of advice: don’t let them boss you around.
“I won't go,” said Sathia. For some reason, Hunt believed her.
Bryce looked at Flynn's sister as if she was thinking the same thing.
— It's good to have another female around here. — She nodded

to Baxian, Tharion and Hunt. — The Alpha Asshole Club was getting
too crowded for my liking.
Bryce stopped at the edge between light and shadow. The mist that
dripped across the cave floor reached her pink sneakers with curved white
claws. Its starlight did not pierce the darkness beyond a few meters ahead.
It only illuminated thicker clouds of mist, masking whatever threats lay in
wait.
She couldn't cross that line.

“This place feels all wrong,” Baxian muttered, approaching Bryce. —
Let's hope we see the light
of day again — said Tharion also quietly, a step behind them.
“Let's see,” Hunt said, adjusting the heavy backpack that had been
strapped between the wings. —There is nothing to worry about except some
evil spirits. And ghosts. And “scary things,” as Ruhn said.
“Oh, that's all,” Bryce said, giving him an ironic look. She added to
Sathia, pointing to the towers that barely stood out on the green horizon: —
It's not too late to go back to the castle.
— I'm not going to sit with those people who lie in wait — hissed Sathia.
Everyone turned to her.

- Did something happen? — Hunt asked carefully.
Tharion watched her carefully.
— I'm not going to be alone in that castle — Sathia insisted, hugging
herself, fingers buried in her white sweater, and Bryce knew she didn't want
to talk about that subject.
“Fair enough,” Hunt declared, also picking up on Sathia's tone, “but
Ruhn warned me that most of what's here is old, wicked, and likes to drink
blood. And to eat souls. I don't know what the order of preference is.
“Like any noble fae, then,” Bryce commented, lifting his heavy backpack.
She winked at Sathia. — You will feel at home.
The female fae gave a weak smile, but did not flee screaming from the
cave and its grasping fingers of mist. If Sathia's
In fact, she preferred to face what was hiding in that cave instead of the murderous twins,
perhaps it was Bryce's duty to beat the shit out of her when he returned, in her name and
that of all the females.
That is if they came back.
“Okay,” Hunt said, “according to Declan, Pelias' tomb and Aster's resting place are right
in the center of the cave network.
— They got food and water from the kitchen staff, who were taken by surprise, to prepare for
the trip of a few days. —But there are many things that will try to devour us along the way.
Bryce ignored his stomach churning. She had gone to another world and faced an asteri,
she was able to deal with some evil spirits and ghosts. She had three badass males with her.
And Sathia. She could do that.
Bryce faced the others and held out his hand.

— Will Time Caverns be on three?
Everyone looked at her, but they didn't cover her hand with theirs.
Not even damned Hunt. After the sex the night before, the least he could do was contribute
some team spirit. But he looked at her, as if saying Gravitas, Quinlan.
Fuck it. She raised her hand in the air and shouted: —
Vaaaaai, Team Caverns!
The words echoed off the rocks, the passage, and the misty darkness. They stopped
suddenly, as if the caves themselves had devoured them.
"That's not scary at all," Hunt muttered.

— Everything is normal — Baxian agreed.
“Don't worry,” Bryce sang. — I will protect you from the scary cave. — And, after saying
that, she walked into the darkness.
***
Morven cornered Ruhn outside the cafeteria just before he and his friends returned to the
archives after breakfast.
“A quick word,” Morven said, pointing a finger at him.

The cluster of shadows from the day before had disappeared, but the
crown made of them remained floating over his head.
“And I think so,” said Ruhn slowly, gesturing so that
Flynn and Dec kept walking — that I didn't even exist to you.
Morven looked at him with such coldness that it made Ruhn's
father seem cheerful in comparison. But Ruhn noticed that the king
waited to speak until Lidia was out the door, without looking at either of them.
— What are your sister's intentions in coming here?
“Bryce already told you,” Ruhn said firmly. — She wants information.
—About what?
—The sword and the knife, for starters. The rest is secret. —
Asshole, he didn’t need to add.
Morven's eyes became darker than night.
—And she plans to claim Avallen?
Ruhn started to laugh.
- What? No. If I planned to, I wouldn't tell you, but believe me, this
place... — He looked down the hallway, as dark as a crypt. — It's not
her style. If you don't believe it, ask my father.
— That's another thing I wanted to talk about. Your sister must have done
something with him. How else would I have his diary?
— If he did, it didn't involve trying to claim the crown. She didn't
say anything about that. — Ruhn frowned at the king. —And again, if
she was planning some kind of fae coup, why in the Hell would I tell
you?
— Because you're a true fae, not a semi-fae...
— I think I better be careful when talking about my sister.
Morven's shadows gathered around his fingers and
shoulders. Wild, angry shadows that Ruhn's refused to face. They
seemed corrupted, like the ones Seamus and Duncan mind-controlled.
— You are Starry. He has an obligation to our people.

- To do what?
— To ensure they survive.
— Bryce is Starry too.

Ruhn, Dec, and Flynn gave their sister and the others all the hints they
could about what they would face in the dark labyrinth of the Cave of the
Princes, but their journey through the mist-filled cave network was so
chaotic that they had little to offer when it came to of a direct route to the
tomb of Pelias. Bryce didn't seem too worried, despite her comment the
night before about how little time they had. But it could be that she was
just acting brave.
“Yes,” Morven sneered, “and what did your sister do with that?
Starry heritage besides showing contempt for the fey?
— You don't know anything about her.
“I know she spat on her faerie lineage when she announced she was
marrying that angel. — His shadows trembled with anger.
“Fine,” Ruhn announced, turning to leave. — Conversation officially
over. Goodbye.
Morven grabbed him by the arm. Shadows slid from his hand to Ruhn's
forearm, squeezing tightly.
—After dealing with your sister yesterday, I prayed to Luna all night for
guidance. —His eyes shone with a fanatical fervor. — She allowed me to
see that you, despite your... transgressions... are the only hope our people
have for regaining some credibility in future generations.
Ruhn sent his own shadows down his arm, biting his own.
Morven to break free with satisfying ease.
—Luna doesn't strike me as the type who would lower herself to talk to
idiots like you.
Despite the shredded shadows, Morven dug her fingers into his arm.
— There are females here that...

— No — Ruhn freed himself from his uncle's hand. He kept a wall of
shadows behind him as he walked away. - Goodbye.
“Selfish fool,” Morven hissed. Ruhn could have sworn that the
The king's shadows also hissed.
But Ruhn raised his arm above his head and gave him the middle
finger, without looking back. Dec and Flynn were waiting for him near a
fountain in the courtyard outside, a safe distance from Lidia.

- What did he want? asked Flynn, following Ruhn.
"It's not worth explaining," replied Ruhn, keeping his eyes open.
eyes on the archives dome a few streets away.
Declan asked Lidia: — Any
chance of Morven running to talk to the asteri?
“Not yet,” she replied softly. — Bryce told the truth yesterday... She
knew how to deal with him well — he added, turning to Ruhn. — You
could learn a little from your sister.
- What does that mean? demanded Ruhn.
Flynn and Dec pretended to be busy looking at a closed butcher's
shop as they passed by.
— You are a prince — Lidia said coldly. — Start taking action
as such.
You are a prince. Start acting like it.

Damn, Lidia knew exactly what to say to piss him off. To make him
spend all the following hours thinking about her, during all the fruitless
searches for any information about the disappeared islands, Aster, the
knife or that mist.
She went out for a walk for half an hour and came back, smelling of the sea, and
still not talking to him.
“You could, um, talk to her,” Flynn said beside Ruhn, closing yet
another useless drawer full of catalog cards. — I can literally feel you
thinking.
— I'm not thinking.
“You're thinking,” said Declan, from Ruhn's other side.
“You're thinking,” Ruhn said, nodding at Dec's tense expression.
— I have good reasons for that. I can't get in touch

with my family or Marc...
Ruhn calmed down.
— I'm sure they're fine. You told them to stay quiet during all that
shit at the Meat Market, and Sathia said she looked for them. Marc will
make sure they stay safe.
— Still, it's not easy. I can't even talk to them because

we are in this medieval park.
Ruhn and Flynn grunted in agreement.
“This place sucks,” Dec said, and slammed the drawer he was rummaging through. —
And their cataloging system too. — Dec looked at the end of the long table and shouted, —
Anything?
Ruhn tried, but couldn't help but look at Lidia. She had picked up the back of the
catalogue, probably on purpose, and still hadn't said a word during the hours they spent
together.
“No,” she said, and continued her work.
Beauty.
All beauty.
***
“Well,” Hunt whispered, his voice echoing off the smooth black stone before being swallowed
by the dense mists. —, It's scary.
The smell of mold and rot was already giving him a headache, disturbing all the instincts
that told him to leave that closed, misty space and go to the sky, to the safety of the wind
and clouds...
"If you've ever seen a Middengard Worm feeding," Bryce muttered into the thick
darkness, barely able to clear the fog from his face, nothing seems so bad.
—,
“I don't want to know what it's about,” Baxian said.
Hunt liked not having to ask Baxian to be on Bryce's other side. Tharion and Sathia
followed closely behind, saying little as the path appeared before them. Ruhn had said that
the carvings on the walls began a little further on, but they had not yet found any evidence.
Just rock—and fog so thick they could only see a few feet ahead.
Bryce said,
“Think of an earthworm with a mouth full of double rows of teeth. The size of two buses.
“I said I didn't want to know what it was about,” Baxian grumbled.
“It's not that bad compared to some of the other shit I've seen,” Bryce
continued. And then she concluded that if they were following her in that deadly
darkness, they deserved to know the whole truth: — They have something
called the Mask... A tool that can literally resurrect the dead. No need for
necromancers. And without the body needing to be cool either.
Everyone looked at her. -

It is serious? — asked Tharion.
Bryce nodded seriously.
— I saw the Masquerade used to animate a skeleton that had been dead
for a long time. And he was strong enough to face the
don't give
Hunt whistled.
—This is very powerful lethal magic.
He refrained from complaining that she hadn't mentioned it before, because
she also hadn't told him that Rigelus had taken advantage of his lightning to do
something similar, and Baxian, fortunately, didn't say anything either. They had
no idea what happened next, but it couldn't have been good.
Another thing to redeem yourself for.

I had understood what Bryce was trying to say the night before. Everyone
was partly to blame for the group's actions. Which didn't stop him from feeling
his own guilt. I didn't want to bring up the subject anymore. I didn't want to feel
anymore. “Yes,” said Bryce, continuing
into the darkness, “the powers
of that faerie world... exceed expectations.
— And yet the asteri want to mess with them again —
comentou Baxian.
“Rigelus knows how to hold a grudge,” Bryce said, stopping suddenly.
All of Hunt's instincts were on alert.

- What? he asked, scanning the misty darkness ahead. But Bryce was
staring at the wall to his left, where a carving was carved with surprising
precision into the stone.
“An eight-pointed star,” said Baxian.

Bryce brought his hand to his chest, the shadow of his fingers cast in the
glow that appeared there.
Hunt examined the star and then the images that began a few
meters away, plunging into the mist, as if that place marked the
beginning of a walkway. Bryce started walking again, turning his head
from side to side as he looked at the ornate, artistic carvings along
the black rock. The only thing Hunt could do was follow her, without
letting the mist hide her from view.
Fae in elaborate armor were drawn on the walls, many holding

what appeared to be strings of stars. Ropes tied around the necks of
flying horses, the beasts screaming furiously as they were pulled to
the ground. Some sank into what appeared to be the sea, drowning.
“A hunt,” Bryce said softly. — So the first

Fae killed all of Theia's pegasi.
- Why? asked Sathia.
“They weren't fans of the Fancy Starlight dolls,” Hunt suggested.
But Bryce didn't smile.

— The carvings are similar to those in the Silene caves. The art
It's different, but the storytelling style is similar.
— It would make sense — said Tharion, passing his hand over a horse
that was struggling and drowning — considering that the art is from the
same time.
“Yes,” Bryce murmured, and continued, his starlight casting
lightning through the mists. Pointing forward. There was no privacy to
corner her and ask what Inferno was thinking, especially when
something in the shadows moved to Hunt's left.
He reached over his shoulder for his sword, lightning at the ready.
Or as ready as he could be with the damn halo limiting him...
“Evil spirits,” said Baxian, quickly drawing his sword. The shadows
writhed, hissing like a nest of
cobras.
“They're not getting any closer,” Sathia whispered, her fear thick
as the mist around them.
Hunt enveloped his fist in lightning, the sparks making the damp
walls shine like the surface of a lake. But the light shone on Bryce
and the evil spirits retreated further.
— Benefits of being the Super Powerful Starry Princess with
Special Magic — Bryce said slowly, walking without worrying through
the corners and alcoves in the stone full of evil spirits. — Ruhn said
they fled his starlight during the Ordeal. It seems like they don't like
mine very much either.
Sathia walked past the nearest group of evil spirits, staying one
step behind Bryce.
A scabbed, jet-colored hand reached out from a deep alcove of
shadows, its long, cracked nails digging into the stone...
Before Hunt's lightning struck him, Bryce's starlight shone again.

The hand drew back, a low hiss echoing off the stones.
— Superpowered Star Princess with Special Magic indeed —
commented Hunt, impressed.
But Bryce turned to the lines the evil spirit had carved into the
rock, running his hand over them. She rubbed the bits of dust and
debris between her finger and thumb, sniffed once, then looked away
at Hunt.
— Flynn is right: I don't like it here. — She licked and licked, fuck,
the dark substance on her fingers and grimaced. - No.
No way.
Sathia, still a few steps behind Bryce, shivered.
— Can you feel it? How... does everything seem dead? As if
something was rotting.
Hunt had no idea what Hell the female was talking about, and
from Tharion and Baxian's shocked expressions, they didn't
understand either.
Bryce continued moving forward through the darkness and fog.
They had no choice but to go after her, to remain in that protective
bubble of starlight.
“There's water up ahead,” Baxian said, his advanced hearing picking up

the noise before Hunt could hear it. — A river... big, it seems.
Bryce looked at Hunt.

— Good thing we have two handsome guys with wings.
And there it was again, the sparkle in her eyes. It came and went, but…
he could almost hear the gears in her brain.
Connecting some dots he couldn't see.
“Stay close,” Bryce murmured, leading them deeper into the cave. —
I've been spending a lot of time underground and I can tell you there's
nothing good coming our way.
***
Flynn and Dec went out to get lunch for everyone, and Ruhn resigned
himself to working in silence with Lidia, with just the rustling of paper and
the rattling of useless drawers as the soundtrack.
He found nothing. Neither did she, that's what Ruhn concluded when
he noticed some of her signs of frustration. They were so different from her
contented, almost purring sighs, that time when she had been in his arms
and their souls had melted together, as he moved inside her...
First.
Ruhn turned slowly toward the imposing, open door. No
there was no one. Only the gray day awaited
him. On your left.
Seamus leaned against a nearby pile, arms crossed.
He had a knife strapped to his broad chest, just like decades before.
As in those days, the male's hair was cut close to his head—to prevent an
enemy from grabbing him, Ruhn knew. And if Seamus was there, that
meant... To his right, Duncan
spoke between minds, and Ruhn turned to find Seamus's brother
leaning in the same position, on the opposite pile. Instead of a dagger,
Duncan carried a thin sword strapped to his back.
Ruhn kept the two in his line of sight. What do you want?
Instinct already kept his mind shielded by stars and shadows, but he
did a quick mental scan to ensure his walls were intact.
Duncan sneered. Our uncle told us to check if the female was

behaving well.
Ruhn looked at Lidia, still searching the catalog. Damn, the
Her mind was unprotected...
In fact, it was almost natural to jump into her mind. As if he could
somehow protect her from them.
But on the other side of this mental bridge, a wall of fire burned.
It wasn't just fire; it was a conflagration that swirled in the heights, as if it
generated its own winds and temperature. The magma seemed to churn,
visible through the cracks in the swirling storm of flames.
Well, then he didn't need to worry about her.

You spoil our fun, cousin, said Seamus.
It would be fun to troll her, Duncan added.
Ruhn looked at the males. Get out.
Her presence contaminates this place, Seamus said, looking at Lidia
and concentrating on her shoulder blades with an intensity that Ruhn
didn't like at all.
Yours too, replied Ruhn.
Seamus's dark eyes turned to Ruhn once more.
We can smell you on her, you know. Seamus's teeth flashed. Tell me:
was it like fucking a reaper?
A low growl escaped Ruhn and Lidia turned at the sound. She showed
no surprise. As if he was aware of their presence at all times and was
waiting for some kind of signal to intervene.
She looked coldly at his cousins.

— Seamus. Duncan. I'd appreciate it if you'd stay out of my mind.
Seamus bristled, pure fey threat.
— Did someone talk to you, bitch?
Ruhn clenched his jaw so hard it hurt, but Lidia
He raised his golden eyes to the twin princes and said:
— Shall I demonstrate how I make males like you talk to me?
Duncan growled.
— Lucky for you, our uncle told us to stay away. Or the

We would have already told the asteri that you are here, Doe.
— Good boys — Lidia quipped — I'll make sure to tell Morven you
deserve a snack.
Ruhn's lips twitched. But...she had said he should act like a prince.
Then he trained his expression to take on a cold naturalness. A mask as
tough as Lidia's.
—Tell Morven that if we need his help, we will ask

— he said to his cousins.
The layoff had a deeper impact than any provocation. Duncan backed
away from the bookshelf, his hand clenched at his side, shadows wrapping
around his knuckles. Darker and wilder than Ruhn's. As if they had been
captured on a stormy night.
— You are a disgrace to our people — said Duncan disgracefully. —,
Seamus walked over to his twin, the identical face displaying similar
disdain.
— Don't waste your time with him.
Seamus spoke between minds to Ruhn: You will get what you deserve.
Ruhn kept his face impassive, princely, some would say.
— Good to see you two.
Once again, his failure to fight back only made them angrier, and his
two cousins growled before teaming up and leaving the archives.
Only when they disappeared through the massive doors did Ruhn say
quietly to Lidia: —
Are you okay?
“Yes,” she replied, her golden eyes meeting his. Ruhn couldn't breathe.
—They are no different from any other brute I have encountered. —Like
Pollux. She went back to the catalog. — They would get along well with
Sandriel's triaries.
— I must remember that a good part of this triary has been on our side
since then — said Ruhn. But he couldn't think of anything else to say, and
silence reigned again, inside his head and in the files, so he went back to
searching.
After long minutes, it became unbearable. The silence. The tension. And
to say something, to end that misery, he asked: — Why fire?
She slowly turned to him.

- What?
— You always appeared like a ball of fire to me. Why?
She tilted her head, a faint gleam in her eyes.

— The stars and the night had already been claimed. — She smiled, and
he felt relief in his chest at this bit of normality. How it was when they were
just Day and Night. Despite not wanting to, he found himself smiling back.
But she watched him.

- As...
He met her wide, piercing eyes.
- Like what?
— How did you get like this? — she asked, her voice soft. - Your father
is...
— A psychotic idiot.
She laughed.
— Yes. How did you escape his influence?

“My friends,” he explained, pointing to the door through which they had
left. —Flynn and Dec kept me sane. They gave me perspective. Well, Flynn
maybe not, but Dec is. And he still does it.
- Ah.
He allowed himself to watch her face, her expression. He noticed her
concern and asked: — How
was it with your children before we left yesterday? — He knew she had
gone to say goodbye, but he didn't know how it went.
meeting. And given the troubled look on his face when they left the Deep
Freighter... — The answer was
concise enough for him to believe she wouldn't say anything else, but Lidia
corrected herself. — Terrible. — A muscle throbbed in his jaw. — I think Brann
would like to meet me, but Ace... Actaeon... He hates me.
— These things take time.

She changed the subject.
— Do you think your sister will actually find something that

be useful against the asteri?
Considering how many people must have searched for this same thing over
the centuries, Ruhn didn't resent the question.
— Knowing Bryce, I imagine he's up to something. She always has cards

hidden up her sleeve. But... — He sighed. —Now that she's in the fucking Cave
of Princes, part of me doesn't want to know what those letters might imply.
— Your sister is a force of nature. — There was nothing but

admiration in those words.
His chest almost exploded with pride at the compliment, but
Ruhn's answer was simple: —
She is.
And he didn't say anything else.
But the silence that followed was different. Lighter. And he could have sworn
he caught Lidia looking at him as often as he looked at her.
***
Ithan walked through the halls of the House of Flame and Shadow, with Hypaxia
at his side, his belly full and satisfied after a surprisingly good breakfast in the
dark dining hall. They arrived so early that most people weren't there yet.
He ate a lot, even for him, but since they were leaving for Avallen the next
day, he wanted to be as fueled as possible. The demand was that they leave
immediately, but from what they said,
Jesiba needed to arrange transportation and permission to enter the island,

and since they weren't going to tell anyone the real reason for the trip, she
also needed to weave a web of lies for whoever her contact was on the faerie
island.
But soon he could correct this terrible mistake. They would find Sofie's
body, get her lightning, and then fix everything.
There was little hope, but he clung to it anyway. It was what kept him from
collapsing into absolute ruin.
Good thing he had the female by his side who didn't think twice about
helping him so many times. It was because of her that he forced himself to
keep his tone light as he rubbed his full belly and said:
— Did you know the food here was so good?

Hypaxia smiled.
— Why do you think I deserted so easily?
— You got into it for the food, right?
Hypaxia was smiling, and he knew that was a rare expression for the
solemn queen.
— I always accept anything for...
A tremor resonated through the dark hallways, clouds of dust falling from
the ceiling. Ithan kept his balance, holding Hypaxia by the elbow to steady her.
—What the fuck was that? — muttered Ithan, examining the stone
dark above them.
Another bang, and Ithan started running, Hypaxia right behind him, towards
Jesiba's office. He walked through the double doors a moment later, revealing
Jesiba at her desk, her face tense, her eyes wide...
— What the hell is going on? — Ithan demanded, running the open feed
on her computer, where it was possible to see bombs exploding.
Another impact hit the place and Ithan motioned for Hypaxia to get under
the table. But the ancient witch-queen did not obey. She asked: — Are these
images from
up here?
— No — replied Jesiba, with a voice so hoarse that she almost

sounded like a reaper. — Omega boats moored at Istros. — On the
computer, buildings were collapsing. —Their deck launchers just
fired sulfur missiles into the Asphodel Meadows.
Ithan and Hypaxia ran through the city, the blocks packed with
residents and tourists in panic or in eerie, absolute silence. People
sitting on the sidewalks in shock. Ithan prepared himself for what he
would find in the northeast neighborhood, but it was not enough for
the terror of seeing bloodied humans, looking like ghosts due to the
dust and ash that covered them, running in despair. Children
screaming in their arms. As I entered the Meadows of Asphodel, the
cracked streets were covered with still, silent bodies.
Further along in the smoke-breathing ruins, he saw melted cars.

Piles of rubble where buildings once stood. Charred bodies. Some of
them were so small that it was almost impossible to bear the sight.
He wandered somewhere far, far away from himself. I didn't hear

the sirens that sounded or the buildings that were still falling. Beside
him, Hypaxia said nothing, her rigid face streaked with silent tears.
Closer to the source of the explosions there was nothing. No

bodies, no cars, no buildings.
In the heart of the Asphodel Meadows, there was nothing left but
a huge, still smoking crater.
The sulfur missiles were so hot, so lethal, that they melted

everything. Anyone who had been hit would die instantly. Perhaps
being eliminated so quickly was a coup de grace. Being erased
before understanding the nightmare unfolding around him. Before I
could feel afraid.
Ithan's wolf instinct sharpened his focus. It caused him to turn
suddenly as he watched Hypaxia take a vial of primalux healing
potion from her bag and run to the nearest humans beyond the blast
radius—two young parents and a small child, covered from head to
toe in dust. gray, grouped at the door of a building that had partially
collapsed.
Even though Hypaxia had given up being queen, she was, first
and foremost, a healer. And with his Aux and pack training, Ithan
could make a difference too. Even though he was a wolf without a
pack, a disgraced exile and murderer. He could still help. It would still
help no matter what the world called it. It didn't matter what
unforgivable things he had done.
Then Ithan ran towards the nearest human, a teenage girl in a
school uniform. The sons of bitches chose to attack in the morning,
when most people would be on the streets on their way to work,
children going to school, all of them defenseless in the open...
He let out a growl and the girl, with her forehead bleeding and
part of her body trapped under a cement block, flinched. She tried to
push the cement block away, to get it off her legs, but it was him —
his presence that scared her...
He suppressed the wolf and the anger within him.
“Hey,” he said, kneeling down beside her, picking up the cement
block. — I came to help.
The girl stopped trying to push the cinder block and looked up at
Ithan, who easily removed it from her shins. Her left leg was broken.
— Hypaxia! — he shouted at the witch, who was already on her feet.

But the girl grabbed Ithan's hand, her face pale as she asked,
"Why?"
Ithan shook his head, unable to find the words to respond. Hypaxia
dropped to her knees in front of the girl, fishing another bottle of primalux
from her bag. One of the few, Ithan saw with a start. They would need
much more.
But even if all the medwitches in Crescent Moon City
If they went there... would that be enough?
Would it be enough to heal the damage that had been done?
***
— Do you understand something? — Hunt asked Tharion as they stood

on the bank of a wide, deep river that ran through the caves. Standing a
few feet away, Bryce let the males talk as she surveyed the river, the mist
blocking its origin and end. The carvings in the wall continued across the
river. The place smelled musty and damp.
Until that moment, they had not found any new information about the
blades, the mist or what helped to eliminate the asteri, but she kept
everything she saw in her mind.
— No — said the merman. Bryce heard him, in parts. — My magic
just feels like it's... cold. And it flows through all these caves.
“I think that's good,” Baxian said, folding his wings. He winked at
Bryce, catching her attention. —No worms swimming around.
Bryce frowned.
— You wouldn't be joking if you'd seen one. - She does not
He waited for the Hellhound to respond before saying to him and Hunt:
— Wings raised to carry us?
Her mind racing, she could barely talk as they clumsily crossed the
river, Hunt carrying Sathia and Bryce while Baxian carried Tharion. Bryce
extended his bubble of starlight so everyone could remain inside it, which
was as much extra activity as he could worry about while watching the
carvings.
They didn't tell the same story that Silene had told.
There was no mention of an evil that slept beneath his feet. Only
a river of starlight, into which the ancient fae, it seemed, dragged those pegasi
to drown.
Yes, the fae there weren't any better than
those in Nesta's world.
They walked for hours and hours, miles and miles.
They stopped every now and then, alternating who watched and who slept,
even though falling asleep was difficult.
Evil spirits lurked in crevices and alcoves all around, remnants of
malevolent shadows. They hissed with hot bloodlust—and in fear of Bryce's
starlight. Only someone with the Starry Gift — or under the protection of
someone who had such a gift — could survive there.
She carried the Aster on her back and the dagger on her hip. They made
each step heavier, fighting a strange battle to get closer to each other, and
the attraction became more intense as they advanced deeper into the cave.
Bryce ignored them and instead continued analyzing the carvings on the
walls. On the ceiling, brutal images carved with care and precision: merciless,
endless battles and bloodshed. Cities in ruins. Lands that collapsed. All falling
into that river of starlight, as if the Star power had swept them away in a great
tide of destruction.
- I have a doubt. — Sathia's voice echoed through the tunnel. — Which

could be considered impertinent.
Bryce riu.
— Didn't you know? This is the motto of Team Cavernas.
Sathia quickened her pace until she was beside Bryce.
— Well, you seem to want nothing to do with the fae.
“Bingo,” Bryce said.
—Yet you are here, carrying our two most sacred artifacts...
— Three, if you count the Horn on my back.

Sathia's stunned silence seemed to echo through the cave.
— The... the Horn? As?
“A fancy magic tattoo,” Bryce explained, waving his hand. — But you can
continue.
Sathia managed to speak again.
— You have three of our most sacred artifacts. And yet, your plan is... what
do you want to do with the fae?
“Nothing,” Bryce replied. — You're right: I don't want anything to do with
them. —The carvings around them only strengthened that resolve. Even more
so the one that showed the massacre of the pegasi. She glanced sideways at
the female. - No offense.
But Sathia asked: —
Why?
Bryce wasn't in the mood for that conversation at all, and the way he looked
at the female showed it. But Sathia returned the look, frankly and without fear.
Then Bryce sighed.

— The Fae are not... my favorite people. They never were, but it got even
worse after last spring. I truly want nothing to do with a group of cowards who
locked innocent people out the day the demons invaded our city, and who
seem determined to do it again and on a much larger scale here in Avallen.
— Some of us had no choice but to stay locked in our homes — Sathia

replied firmly. — My parents forbade me from...
— I never let any kind of prohibition stop me

to do what I needed to do,” Bryce teased.
Sathia glared at her but continued.
— If you... if we... survive all this, what will happen?
— What do you mean, what will happen?

—What are you going to do with the sword and dagger? With the Horn?
Let's say that your wildest hopes about the asteri come true and we manage
to find the knowledge, whether here or in the archives, that can help us defeat
them. When they are gone, will you keep these objects and no longer care
about your people?
"Are you saying I shouldn't be with them?"

— I'm asking what your plan is, what you want to do with them, with
your life.
“Team Caverns' motto has changed,” Bryce announced. - Now
is mind your own business.
— I'm serious — confirmed Sathia, without accepting that

Bryce talk not for a second. — Are you going to abandon everything?
“I don't see any reason to stick around,” Bryce replied coldly. — And
I don't even know why you would want that. For them, you have the
same value as a piece of furniture. For the Autumn King, for Morven, for
your father. Its only value comes from its reproductive potential. It doesn't
matter if you are smart, brave or kind.
They just want to know about your uterus, and that Luna spares you from having
problems in that regard.
— I know — Sathia replied, her voice also cold. — I've known all this
since I was a child.
— And you accept? — replied Bryce, unable to contain the harshness
in his voice. — Do you accept being used and treated in this way? As if I
were worth less than them? Do you accept not having rights and not
deciding your own future? Do you agree with a life where you belong to
your male relatives or your husband?
— No, but it's the reality I was born into.
“Well, you're Mrs. Ketos now,” Bryce said, waving back to Tharion,
who was watching them intently. — Better prepare for this reality.
- And what does it mean? — protested Tharion.

But Sathia ignored Bryce's taunts and asked, "What are
you going to do with the fae?"
- To do? — asked Bryce, stopping.
Sathia didn't back down.
— With all your power. With who you are, with what you carry.
Hunt whistled lowly in warning.

But Bryce seethed with rage when Sathia responded.
“I just want the fae to leave me alone, damn it. And me
I'll leave them alone too.
On
Sathia pointed to the Aster on Bryce's back.

—But the prophecy... when these blades are gathered, so will our
people. It can only be about you, uniting all the Fae people...
“I've already done that,” Bryce said, “I connected the fey of Midgard
to those of our home world. Prophecy fulfilled. Or did you expect
something else to happen?
Sathia's look was one of pure hatred. An untamed female, despite
the life she led.
— I was rooting for a fae queen. Someone capable of changing
things for the better.
“But he welcomed me instead,” Bryce countered, and continued
forward into the darkness, hands clenched at his sides. Maybe he
would use the power of the laser to rip those carvings out of the wall.
With the same ease with which Rigelus had destroyed the statues of
the Eternal Palace. Perhaps she would send out a blast of light so
cruel that it would destroy all the evil spirits around her. — The fae dug
their own grave. Now you can lie down in it.
Sathia didn't say anything else.
Hunt followed Bryce, placing a hand on his shoulder as if to offer

support, but she could have sworn that even her partner was
disappointed in her.
Whatever. If they wanted to preserve a long and entire lineage
screwed by fae tyrants who did it on their own.
***
Flynn and Dec abandoned Ruhn as soon as they left the archives, so
he and Lidia could share a painfully silent meal in the castle's empty
dining room.
He had so many things to ask, to talk about, so many things he
wanted to know. But I couldn't find the right words.
So all I did was eat, the unbearable noise of the fork hitting the plate,
each bite like breaking glass. And when they were done, they returned
to their rooms in silence, each step echoing in the hallway, loud as
thunder.
But before they separated, when Ruhn was about to enter

In his room, he blurted out: — Do you
think my sister is okay?
"You've been to the Cave of the Princes before, not me," he said.
Lidia, but turned to him. — It's you who has to tell me.
He shook his head.
— To be honest, I don't know. There's a lot going on with Bryce right
now. These caves are confusing at best. If you don't have full focus, they
can be lethal.
Lidia crossed her arms.
— Well, I have faith that between her, Athalar and Baxian, your sister will
be fine.
— Tharion will be offended.
— I don't know Ketos enough as a warrior to judge him.
— Ithan Holstrom calls him Captain Whatever, but I think
messing with him. When he wants to, Tharion knows how to be very tough.
She smiled and, damn, it made Ruhn feel strange. She repeated: —
Your sister will be
fine.
He nodded with a sigh.
— Do you and Hypaxia have any contact?
— No. Not since the ball.
Before I could think better, he was already asking: — That night...
were you going to meet me in the garden?
Surprise filled her eyes and then disappeared. Lidia pursed her mouth,
as if she was thinking carefully about what she should answer.
— The Harpy arrived before me — he said, finally.

He took a step toward her, the hallway suddenly becoming too small.
—But were you going to show up, as we agreed?

- This matters?
He dared to take another step. I hadn't noticed how her hips
they were wide, so inviting, before reaching the waist.
He opened and closed his hands, hating himself for the wave of lust that
overwhelmed him, nearly knocking all the air out of his lungs. He wanted her.
He wanted her to be naked beneath him, moaning his name, he wanted her to
tell him everything and he wanted... he wanted his friend back. The friend he
could talk to honestly, who knew things about him that no one else knew.
He took another step and noticed that she was shaking. Whether it was out of fear
or because he had to contain himself, he couldn't say.
— Lidia — he murmured, finally stopping in front of her, and Lidia closed
her eyes, swallowing hard.
Her scent changed—like flowers blooming on a sunny morning. That smell
was a turn on. His dick was throbbing so much that it hurt.
It didn't matter that they were in the middle of the hallway, their terrible
cousins lurking. He placed his hand on her waist, almost groaning at the sharp
curve of her body, which fit perfectly into his hand.
She kept her eyes closed, her heartbeat still racing.

Then, he used his other hand to tilt her head. He bent down and rubbed his
mouth over that vibrating spot.
She was panting and he almost felt his eyes pop out of their sockets. The
way she tastes... fuck! Ruhn wanted more. His teeth grazed the soft skin of
Lidia's neck, his tongue sliding to just below her ear. His dick pulsed in response.
She relaxed, docile in his hands, tilting her head more. An invitation. He
licked the base of her neck, sliding his hand from her waist to her ass...
She stiffened. He walked away.

As if he had to hold back. As if he remembered who she was. Who he was.
He stood there like an idiot, panting, his hard cock pressed against his
pants as she… stared at him. With wide eyes.
— I... — He had no idea what to say. What to do.

His head swam. That female had so much blood on her hands,
but...
— Good evening — he said, and returned to the room before starting to

pay even more foolishly.
She didn't stop him.

Lying on the hard, cold floor, Bryce tried to pretend that she was back
in bed, that there wasn't a rock poking her hip bone, that her arm was
the most comfortable of all the pillows...
From the way Sathia tossed and turned nearby, she knew the
female was also unable to find a sleeping position.
Hunt fell asleep almost immediately, breathing deeply in a gentle

rhythm that she tried to focus on, to fall asleep.
She believed that his warrior days made him accustomed to difficult
conditions like those, but... it wasn't quite like that. I didn't want to think
about everything Hunt had been through, everything that made sleeping
on that hard surface easy for him.
Especially when it was obvious that he was dwelling on guilt that
shouldn't have been his alone.
It had been easier in the fae world, because I was so tired that I had
no choice but to sleep. But there, no matter how much she was
protected by Baxian, who was on watch, sleep seemed distant.
Bryce lay on her back, her starlight moving with her, transmitting
her every movement like a beacon. Damn, how could he sleep with that
headlight in his eyes...
She looked up at the ceiling, with carvings that looked like the
branches of a forest. A beautiful and remarkable work that was never
documented, never revealed to the world. Only a few royal fae males
came looking for Aster.
This sword was now on his left, a vibrant, pulsing presence stimulated
by the Truth Revealer on his right, pulsing in response. As if the blades
were talking.
Excellent. It was like a slumber party. Bryce ignored the chatter of

the blades as best he could, turning his focus to the caves and carvings.
Females had never been allowed inside, but now there were two
female fae there. I hoped that all the long-dead princes buried in the
caves were turning over in their sarcophagi.
So much fear of females, so much hate. Why? Because of Theia?

It was Pelias who founded the Starry lineage of Midgard. Were all the
prohibitions and restrictions the result of fear that someone like her
would emerge?
Bryce believed that academics and activists had spent centuries
researching and debating the subject, so the likelihood of her finding
any answers, even knowing the truth about Theia, was slim to none.
Which didn't make it all any easier to swallow.
Then, she lay on her side, looking at the star-carved river, illuminated
by its starlight. The river of his lineage, destined to last for millennia.
Blood of your blood, in literal form and full of stars. Her lineage ran
through those caves. A legacy of pain and cruelty.
She wished Danika was with her. If there was anyone who could
understand the complexity of such a shitty legacy, the weight of having
the future of a people on their shoulders, it was Danika.
Danika, who wanted more for this world, for Bryce.
Lit up.
But perhaps the fae and their lineage were not worthy of the light of
Bryce. Maybe they deserved to fall into eternal darkness.
***
Flynn and Dec, the bastards, didn't show up for breakfast.

Ruhn and Lidia had to eat alone again.
Ruhn had spent most of the night awake, his dick hard and throbbing—
and then, worried about what Bryce and the others were facing in the Cave of
the Princes. Maybe it would have been better to go with them. Perhaps staying
there would have been cowardly, no matter how much they needed the
information in the files. Flynn and Dec could have found it.
The dining room doors opened as they were finishing their meal, and Ruhn
prepared to see one of his asshole cousins. But a tall fae male entered,
looking around before carefully closing the door. As if he didn't want to be
seen.
— Lidia Cervos. — The male's voice shook.
Ruhn reached for the knife in his boot as the male approached the table.
Lidia watched him with an impassive expression.
Ruhn tried, unsuccessfully, to control his heartbeat. He opened his mouth.

He was going to tell the stranger to tell him who he was, to demand that he leave...
— I came to thank you — said the male, and put his hand in his pocket.
Ruhn took out his knife, but the male only pulled out a piece of paper.
A small portrait of a female and three small children.

All fae.
But Lidia didn't look. As if she couldn't bear it.
The male said:
— Ten years ago, you saved my life.
Ruhn didn't know what to do, how to move. Lidia continued to look at the
floor.
The male continued:
— My unit was at the Kelun base. You suddenly walked in in the middle
of the night and I thought we were all going to die. But you told us that the
Hammer was coming... that we needed to escape.
The seven of us are alive today, with our families, thanks to you.
Lidia nodded, but her movement seemed to say thank you, please
stop.
Not out of humility or shame, but because of the pain on his lowered
face. As if he couldn't bear to hear all that.
He held out the family portrait again.
— I thought you would like to see the result of your choices that night.
Even so, Lidia didn’t look up. Ruhn couldn't

to move. I couldn't breathe.
The male continued:
— Some of those who were part of that unit are still here, in secret.
Prince Cormac convinced us to join the cause. But we never told him or
anyone else who saved us. We didn't want to compromise what you
were doing, whatever that was. But we heard that you, or rather the Doe,
had challenged the asteri, so we resumed contact with each other.
The male, finally noticing Lidia's discomfort, added: — Maybe

it's too early for you to recognize everything you've done, the lives
you've saved, but... I just wanted to say that we're very grateful.
We owe you a debt.
— They have no debt at all — Lidia finally replied,
looking into the male's eyes. — You'd better go away.
Ruhn was left unresponsive to the rejection, but Lidia explained:
— I imagine you've kept your activities and associations a secret,
that Morven doesn't know anything about it. It's best not to risk angering
him now.
The male nodded, understanding.
“Thank you,” he repeated, and then left.
In the silence that followed, Ruhn asked, "Did
you let them see the real you?"
— Either I risked having my identity revealed to the world or I left
them to die — Lidia explained quietly, as they headed for the door. — I
wouldn't be able to live in peace if I had chosen the second option.
Ruhn raised an eyebrow.

— Far from wanting to be insensitive, but why? There were only seven of them.
It wouldn't make any difference to the rebellion.
— Maybe not for Ophion as a whole, but it would have made a difference
for their family. — She didn't look at him. — Partners, children, parents... all
those who hoped they would return safely.
“It can't be just that,” he pressed. — You had a lot at stake.
She opened the door and didn't speak again until they were in the hallway.
— I guess, deep down, I hoped that... if my children were in a similar

situation, someone would do the same for them.
He felt a pang in his chest when he heard those words,

truth contained in them.
— You've been through a lot of difficult times, Lidia. Damn, I don't think I
could get through any of that. But what you did was incredible. Do not forget.
“I could have saved even more,” she said softly, her eyes glued to the floor
as they walked down the empty hallway.
— I should have saved even more.
***
Lidia had no idea what to think of her meeting with the former rebel that
morning.
Perhaps Urd had sent him to remind her that the choices and sacrifices
she had made had somehow made a difference in the world. No matter how
much they destroyed it.
The Queen of the Ocean did not let her choose whether or not she could
stay on the ship, not twelve years ago or at that moment. But here, on this dull
faerie island... at least she could find people who had reaped the benefits of
the horrible position in which she had been placed.
Flynn and Declan had not yet arrived at the archives, and the silence was
becoming unbearable as she and Ruhn began their investigation.
search; the only scents were of musty catalog cards and Ruhn's inviting,
reassuring scent. Lidia found herself talking to the row of catalog cards:
— I'll see if I can find coffee. Want to come?

Ruhn looked at her and, by the gods, he was beautiful. She never allowed
herself to think about his beauty. Even with those tattoos so thin, proof of what
Pollux had done...
His blue eyes blinked, as if noticing the direction of her thoughts.
— Of course, let's go.

Even the way she spoke, the timbre of her voice... she could delight in it
all day. And when he touched her last night, licking her...
Did he know how close she came to begging him to rip off her clothes, to
lick her from head to toe, lingering longer between her legs?
— Why are you looking at me like that? — asked Ruhn, his voice low,
thick. She noticed every movement of the muscles in his shoulders, his arms,
his powerful thighs as he approached. How the sunlight shone on her long
dark hair, a cascade as silky as night. The shaved side of his head that seemed
to beg for Lidia to run her fingers through his soft hair while she nibbled on his
pointed ear...
She started walking when he caught up to her, because the alternative

would be to grab him.
— I took a trip. I need coffe.
She hadn't slept well the night before, once again. At first she couldn't stop
thinking about what they had done in the hallway, but then her thoughts turned
to Brann and Actaeon, to her last conversation with them, and she wished she
could turn to the mental bridge, to her friend Night sitting in the armchair next
to her. her.
Not just because I needed someone to talk to,

but because I wanted to talk to him. Above all.
Ruhn walked beside her.
— Who knew that Doe was addicted to caffeine?
The discreet smile he gave her made her knees feel weak. But
Ruhn said nothing more as they explored the back corridor of the
archives, opening and closing doors. A closet crammed with half-
rotted brooms and mops, a nearby one adorned with trays of various
quartz crystals—no doubt some kind of academic recording device
necessary for this technology-free island—and a few empty rooms
with chipped tables that must have been been used as private offices.
— Morven really needs to invest in this break room — commented

Ruhn when they finally found the kitchen. — The employees must
not like her very much.
Lidia surveyed the dark, dusty space, the wooden counter covered
in rat droppings against the wall, the cobwebs woven beneath the
row of cabinets.
“That sounds like a bad medieval cliché,” she said, approaching
the grime-covered cauldron in the dark fireplace. —Is this... porridge?
Ruhn approached her, and his scent made her melt between his
legs.
— I don't know why everyone thought Avallen would be a fairytale
paradise. I've been telling Bryce for years how horrible this place is.
Lidia put aside the gunk in the cauldron and began opening the
cupboards. A mouse had taken up residence in a box of stale biscuits,
but at least there was a sealed jar of tea bags.
— I should have known I wouldn't find coffee. — She looked for a

kettle and found Ruhn standing with one near the old sink, pumping
water into it.
— Your sister — said Lidia — was right to wonder what was
happening to this place. Do you think Morven is hiding something?
"You're the super spy buster," Ruhn quipped, going

to the fireplace and throwing firewood into the ashes. - Tell me you.
The muscles in his forearms tensed as he picked up some sticks and

pieces of wood to light the fire, with an efficiency that shouldn't have left
her mouth watering. He glanced over his shoulder, those bright blue eyes
curious, and she realized he had asked her something, while she just…
looked at him. To your arms.
She cleared her throat and started looking for two mugs.
“Morven never gave any reason why the Asteri or I should investigate
this place. He always showed up when called upon and offered his services
without question. He was, as Rigelus said, a perfect servant.
—So no one ever wondered anything about the mists and the fact that
Morven could hide behind them whenever he wanted? — The fire came to
life and Ruhn stood up, stepping back to monitor it.
— No — Lidia replied. — I think Rigelus believes the mists are some…

enchanting quirk of Midgard and the Fae. Something that gave a little
personality to this world.
And since Morven and his ancestors always toed the line, they were left
alone.
Ruhn stuck his hands in the pockets of his black jeans.
— What surprises me is that the Asteri didn't come to snoop on Morven
after the truth about Cormac was revealed, to see what drove the prince to
rebel.
“Morven placed the blame on the Eternal City,” explained Lidia, the
jaw clenched — and instantly disinherited his son.
— Obviously, with my father doing the same.
She analyzed his face, the pain and anger he made no attempt to hide.
— Yesterday, when I said you should act more like a prince...
- Don't worry about that.

— I know the types of monsters you face. — She looked down at his
forearms, the scars from childhood burns had almost disappeared, but
some pinkish streaks and
sparkles remained intact even after everything Pollux had done.
“I know how to take care of myself,” he said firmly, fitting the

kettle on the hook over the fire and swinging it above the flame.
— I know you know — he tried to say, without being able to explain himself.
— I just... I know how good you are, Ruhn. You show your emotions because you
are able to feel in a way that neither Morven nor the Autumn King can. I don't want
them to use this against you. To find out how to hurt you.
He looked at her slowly, those beautiful blue eyes wary but

ternos.
—Was that a compliment?
She laughed and placed two tea bags in the least dusty mugs she could find. —
That's a compliment, Ruhn. — She
met his gaze and gave a
discreet smile. — Accept it and move on.
***
They discovered nothing new that day. Flynn and Dec seemed content to let them
work alone, because once again they didn't show their face. Or it could be that they
went out to do some important work and, without being able to send a message or
call, they weren't able to notify you.
“Listen to this,” Lidia said, and Ruhn stopped his endless searching to walk to
where she had opened an ancient scroll.
He noticed the way she had observed him earlier, the desire in her eyes, her
smell. He was so distracted that he almost couldn't light the fire in that den they called
the kitchen.
But Ruhn held back the urge to smell her, to bury his face in her neck and lick
her soft skin. Lidia pointed to the parchment spread out in front of her.
—The catalog listed the title of this scroll as The Roots of Earth Magic.
- AND?
Lidia twisted her mouth.
— I find it strange that both Flynn and Sathia can't stand Avallen.
—What does this have to do with defeating the Asteri?

— I thought it might be worth extracting some of the earliest writings on
earth magic, the role it played in the First Wars, or soon after. This parchment
was the oldest I could find.
Flynn picked a bad time not to be around.

- AND…?
— It doesn't have much information beyond what we already know about
fae land magic, but it mentions that those with land magic were sent before to
evaluate land, to understand the best places to build. Not only in terms of
geography, but magic as well. They could feel the ley lines, the energy channels
running throughout the land, throughout Midgard. They informed the Asteri that
their cities should be built where these lines met, at natural crossroads of
power, and they chose these places for the fae to settle as well. But Avallen
was chosen only for the fae. To be their personal and eternal strength.
Ruhn stopped to reflect.

— Okay, so if Flynn and Sathia say this place seems to be
dead and rotting...
— Does not align with the statements recorded here about Avallen.
—But why would the fae elders lie about the existence of ley lines here?
“I don't think they lied,” Lidia said, and pointed to the maps on the other
table, where Dec had discarded them. — I think the Avallen they visited for the
first time, with all those ley lines and magic... I think it existed. But then
something changed.
— But we already knew that — commented Ruhn, cautiously. — That
something has changed.
— Yes — Lidia agreed — but the mists haven't changed. Could this be
intentional? They left the mists intact, but the
The rest was altered... entire islands disappeared, the land itself became
putrified.
—But only the fae would be harmed... and we all know they're selfish
bastards. They would never give up power voluntarily.
— Maybe it wasn’t the intention — Lidia pondered. —Whatever

happened, the mists kept everything hidden from the asteri.
—What do you think they wanted to hide? Why rot your own land?
Lidia pointed to the catalog behind them.

— Maybe the answer is out there somewhere.
Ruhn nodded. Even as he wondered if they were ready for whatever
the answer was.
***
Bryce stood with Baxian on the bank of a second river, surveying the
path on the far bank, his star shining dimly in that direction. The river
passage was narrow enough that he had to teleport them. She kept the
starlight shining, the evil spirits whispering evils around her.
There was nothing useful in the carvings until that moment. Fae
slaying dragons, fae dancing in circles, fae basking in their own glory.
Nothing useful. All kinds of petty shit. Bryce gritted his teeth.
— Danika was like that too, you know — Baxian said, quietly, so the
others wouldn't hear — with the wolves. I hated what many of them had
become and I wanted to understand why this had happened.
Bryce turned to him, his starlight shining a little brighter as it

illuminated the river's descent. The intensity lessened as she faced the
Hellhound.
—Wolves are, in general, much better than fae.
- Perhaps. Baxian looked at her. —But what about your brother? Or

Flynn and Declan? — A nod to where Sathia, Tharion and Hunt were
sitting together: — And her? Do you think they are all a lost cause?
“No,” Bryce admitted. Baxian waited. She took a long sigh. —And
the fae I met in the other world weren't so bad either. I might even have
become friends with them if circumstances had been different.
—So the fae are not inherently evil. “Obviously not,”

Bryce hissed, “but most of those who are
in this world...
— Do you know all the fae of Midgard?
“I can judge you by your actions as a people,” Bryce replied. — Like
locking people out during the attack...
— Yes, it was shit. But until Holstrom defied orders, the wolves didn't
help anyone either.
— Where do you want to get to?
— I want to say that the right leader makes all the difference.
Bryce recoiled at the words: the right leader. Baxian continued: —
The Valbaran fae may not be the most charitable people in our world,
but remember who has led them for the last five hundred years. And
long before that. The same happens with wolves. Primo isn't bad, but
he's the only decent guy among several brutal leaders. Danika was
working to change things, and that's why they killed her.
“Rigelus told me they killed her to keep information about their true
nature under control,” Bryce said.
Baxian looked at her.

—And you believe everything Rigelus says? Furthermore, one reason
does not exclude the other, right? They wanted to keep the secrets safe,
yes, but also destroy the ray of hope that Danika offered. Not just for the
wolves, but for all of Midgard. That things could be different. They could
improve.
Bryce massaged his sore chest, the starlight strangely dim.
— They would definitely have killed her for that.

Baxian's face twitched in pain.
“Then make her death count for something, Bryce.
It was as if he had punched her in the face.
“And what,” she demanded. —, try to rescue the fae? Buy some self-help
books and get them to get together in a circle to talk about feelings?
He remained serious.
— If you think it would work, then it might.
Bryce frowned. But he took a long breath.
— If we survive this shit with the asteri, I'll think about it.
— One thing can be linked to another — he replied.
—If you start talking nonsense about raising an army
feérico to face the stars...
— No. We are not in an epic film. — He tilted his head.
—But if you think you could...
Bryce laughed, despite being upset.
- It's true. I'll add it to my to-do list.
Baxian gave a discreet smile.
— I just wanted you to know that Danika was with these
same thoughts.
— I wish she had talked to me about it. Bryce sighed. —And many other
things.
"She wanted to," he said gently, "and I think putting that Horn on your back
was her way of maybe... guiding you down a similar path."
— Typical Danika.
“She saw something in you… saw what you could represent to the fae. —
The sadness in his voice was unbearable. — She was good at seeing that kind
of thing in people.
Bryce touched his arm.
— I'm glad she could talk to you. I'm very happy.
He gave a sad smile.
— I'm also very happy because she had you. I couldn't be by her
side, I couldn't leave Sandriel's side, and I'm so fucking grateful that she
had someone who loved her unconditionally around her.
Bryce felt a tightness in his throat. He could say some nonsense

about meeting in the afterlife, but... the afterlife was a sham. And
Danika's soul was already gone.
“Guys,” Hunt said from where he and the others had gathered.
lifted up. — We need to continue.
- Why? asked Bryce, approaching. Her starlight dimmed, as if saying
she was heading in the wrong direction. I know, she replied softly.
— As much as we have the Starry Magical Princess taking care of

all of us, it's better not to delay — said Tharion, winking. — I think it's
getting very tempting for evil spirits. — He jerked his head toward the
writhing mass of shadows, barely visible within the mist. Their hissing
rose so high it reverberated in his bones.
“Okay,” Bryce said, resisting the urge to cover his eyes.

ears against the profane noise. - Let's go.
— This is the first wise decision you've made — said a slow male
voice, echoing deep in the tunnel behind them.
And they had nowhere to run, nothing to do but stand and face the
threat as Morven stepped out of the mist. And behind him, with flames
boiling in his eyes, walked the Autumn King.
Hunt summoned lightning into his fingers, letting it snake through his hair as
the two fae kings approached, one wreathed in flame, the other in shadow.
The hissing of evil spirits and the bad smell had covered the approach of the
kings. Unless Morven had wanted the evil spirits to make such a noise, so
that they could approach without Baxian hearing them.
Hunt's lightning was just a spark of what it could be if it didn't have the
halo, but it would be enough to fry those two sons of bitches...
The Autumn King only had eyes for Bryce, pure hatred
distorting his features.
— Did you really think that closet was enough to stop me?
Hunt's lightning sizzled around him, twisting around his forearm. He

could see Tharion forming a column of water coming from the river and
about to be aimed at the two kings. Baxian had his sword drawn, growling...
Bryce didn't seem worried at all when her father responded:

— I trapped Micah in a bathroom, so a closet seemed like a good size for

you. I have to admit that I thought you were going to stay there a little longer.
Morven's shadows writhed around him like hounds.

hunts by pulling the leash.
— You must return to my castle and face the
consequences for having treated his sovereign in such an outrageous way.
Bryce riu.
— We're not going anywhere with you.
Morven smiled and his shadows calmed down.
— I think they will. — Dark, despicable hands dragged Flynn and Declan
out of the shadows. The males struggled, but the evil spirits kept them under
control. Only the creatures' hands were visible. The rest of their bodies
remained hidden in the shadows, as if they couldn't bear to be so close to
Bryce's starlight.
Sathia hissed softly, shocked by what she saw. But Hunt demanded:
— Where the fuck is Ruhn?
“Too busy courting that cheating bitch,” Morven replied. — He didn't even
notice when my nephews stole those two idiots.
Two voices said in Hunt's mind: We're going to kill you and fuck your
partner until...
Starlight shone, silencing the voices but revealing the murderous twins
hiding behind the two kings. A few steps away from Dec and Flynn, as if the
brothers were ordering the evil spirits to restrain the males.
Bryce shone, white sparkling against the blue and gold of the Autumn
King's flames, the impenetrable darkness of Morven's shadows.
—What the fuck do you want?

Flynn and Declan let out high-pitched, shrill screams. Even though the
evil spirits' hands hadn't moved, blood ran from their friends' noses. Dripping
on the floor.
Seamus and Duncan smiled. Whatever those idiots were doing to Dec
and Flynn's minds...
“You treacherous brat,” Morven spat at Bryce, the shadows poised to

attack. — Trying to win me over with your father's notes. He would never have
let you get your filthy hands on that notebook if he hadn't been incapacitated
in some way. I went to investigate at the same time.
Hunt gaped when Bryce pretended to yawn.

- It went badly. I thought you'd like to have a certain advantage over that
idiot. — She pointed with her thumb at the Autumn King. — I didn't expect you
to be so stupid that you couldn't interpret what was in the notes without his
little help.
Hunt held back his laughter, despite the danger they were in. Morven's
offended look was a little too forced. It was obvious that Bryce had hit the nail
on the head. The Autumn King glared at him.
— Let them both go — ordered Bryce — and let's talk like grown-ups.
“They will be released when you return to my castle,” Morven threatened.
—Then you can kill them both right now, because I'm not going back with
you.
Flynn and Dec looked indignantly at her, but the evil spirits held them
steady. Morven said nothing. Not even their shadows moved. The killer twins
just looked at Bryce, preparing for a fight.
Bring it on, assholes, Hunt wanted to say. From the way the twins looked
at him, he wondered if they had caught his thoughts.
But Bryce laughed at Morven mockingly.

—But I know you don't want to kill either of them. They are too valuable to
maintain the lineage. And it all comes down to this, right?
Reproduce.
The Autumn King's voice was cold as he said, the incandescent flame
boiling at your fingertips:
— The Fae must maintain our birthright and power. Royal bloodlines are
disappearing, becoming weak and fragile in their generation.
“Cormac's cowardice is proof of that,” said Morven. — We need to do

whatever it takes to strengthen our bloodline.
“Cormac was more of a warrior than you will ever be,” Tharion replied,
that column of water narrowing until it was as sharp as a needle.
It would burn a hole in the face of whoever was in front of it.

— It's a shame I'm married now — Bryce reflected — and you guys
They don't believe in divorce.
Morven laughed ironically.
— Exceptions may be made for reproduction purposes.
Hunt's anger roared through him.
“All this talk about reproduction is so familiar it hurts,” Bryce said,
yawning again. — And come to think of it, this whole Fae King versus Fae
Queen thing also feels like history repeating itself. — She frowned,
pretending to think. — But you know... — She patted the handle of the
Truth Teller. — Some things may be different today. — Hunt could have
sworn Aster hummed softly, as if in response.
— You dishonor our people and our history by carrying these blades
— accused Morven.
“Don't forget I carry this too,” Bryce said, and
raised his hand. A light, pure and concentrated, shone there.
— Ah, do you think that this little light of nothing can destroy the true
darkness? Morven teased, the shadows rising behind him in a dark wave.
They were deep, suffocating, lifeless.
Hunt summoned his lightning again, a chain wrapped around his wrist
and forearm. One lash and he would fry the evil spirits holding Dec and
Flynn, releasing two more allies in this fight...
But the Autumn King beheld that concentrated seed of light on Bryce's
finger. Its flames thickened. Any amusement or anger disappeared from
his expression as he muttered to Morven:
- Run.
“That's the first wise decision you've made,” Bryce sneered.
A sharp, burning beam of light shot from his hand toward the ceiling: And
a hail of stones
fell upon them.
***
Ruhn had just decided that he needed to look for his friends, who hadn't
shown up all day. He was about to do so when they left the archives that night,
when he found himself returning to the rooms with Lidia.
“I know this is an unusual situation,” she said when they reached his door,
“but I enjoyed working with you today.
He stopped, choking a little before he managed to say: — It must
be nice to finally be able to... be yourself. Without
to hide.
“It's complicated,” she commented softly.
She moved, as if she wanted to say more but didn't know.
like, so Ruhn decided to do him a favor by asking:
—Want to come in for a bit? — At her arched eyebrow, he added: — Just
to talk.
Her lips curved, but she nodded. He opened the door, stepping aside to
let her in. They sat in the worn armchairs in front of the roaring fire, and for a
moment Lidia looked into the flames as if they were speaking to her.
Ruhn was about to offer a drink when she said, “Everything in my

life is complicated. All relationships, true and false... there are times when
I can't even differentiate one from the other. — Her voice was soft... sad. And
very tired.
Ruhn cleared his throat.
— When you and I... — fucked — slept together, you knew who I was.
Apart from the codename, I mean.
Her eyes met his, flames flickering.
- Yes.
— Did that make things complicated for you?
She held his gaze, eyes as golden as the flames before them, and his
heart quickened.
— No. I was shocked, but it didn't make anything complicated.
— Shocked?
She pointed at him.
- You are you.
- And that's bad?
She laughed, so typical of Day that he could barely breathe.
— You are the defiant, party-loving prince. With all those piercings and
tattoos. I didn't think I would be a rebel.
— Believe me, it wasn’t in my medium-term plan either.
She laughed again, the breathless sound going straight to his dick,
wrapping it tightly. Her voice had that effect.
— Why risk it?
- At the beginning? — He shrugged, fighting the growing lust that
throbbed through his body. —Cormac blackmailed me.
I said I was going to tell my father about my ability to speak between minds.
But then I realized it was... the right thing to do.
—Agent Silverbow will be greatly missed. It's already doing it.

“You met Cormac, then?”
— No, but I knew about the things he had done for Ophion, for the people
surprised by the war. He was a good male. — She looked at the closed door.
— His father didn't deserve a son like him.
Ruhn nodded.
She looked at him carefully.
— Your father too... doesn't deserve a son like you.
Those words shouldn't mean anything, especially when coming from the
Doe, but Ruhn felt his throat tighten at their sincerity.
— May I ask — he ventured — about your agreement with the Queen of

the Ocean?
Lidia's jaw tightened.
— I was young and scared when I made the deal with her.
But if it were today, I would have made the same choices. In the name of my
children.
- What happened? — He looked into her eyes. - I know that

It's none of my business, but...
— Pollux is not their father. — He almost sighed with relief. - AND...
— She struggled to find the words. — I come from a long line of powerful deer
shifters. We have rituals. Secret, ancient. We don't necessarily worship the
same gods as you.
I think our gods predate this world, but I've never confirmed that.
— Let me guess: you participated in some kind of secret sexual rite and
got pregnant?
Her eyes widened and then she laughed, the sound coming from the back
of her throat—a deep, guttural sound.
— In short, yes. A fertility ritual, deep in the Aldosian Forest. I was
selected from among the females in my family. A male from another family
was chosen. We didn't know each other, nor did we know which family the
other belonged to. It was quick and not at all interesting, and if there was
fertility magic, I have no idea how Hell worked.
— You were already with Pollux, then?

— Ruhn… — She looked at her hands. — My father took me away from
my mother when I was three years old. I remember being taken away, not
understanding anything. It was only later, when I was a little older, that I
discovered that my father was a power-hungry monster. He wasn't worth the
trouble of even mentioning, and I blamed my mother for allowing him to take
me. I became his little protégé, I guess with some hope that she would be
hurt when she found out that I took after my father.
She took a deep breath.

— I trained, planned and ended up in the Sandriel Trial, a great honor for
my family. I had been serving Sandriel for ten years when my father chose
me for that ritual. I had become an expert at... getting people talking. Pollux
and I had been keeping an eye on each other, but I hadn't yet decided
whether or not I would sleep with him. So, I went to the ritual.
Ruhn couldn't move, couldn't speak even if he wanted to.
— A few weeks later, I knew I was pregnant. A baby from a sacred

ritual would be cause for celebration. I should have run straight to my
father and announced the good news, but I hesitated.
For the first time in my life, I hesitated. And I didn't know why I couldn't
tell him. Because when I thought about the baby I was carrying, when
I thought about giving that child to him, I couldn't bear it.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the restless movement
at odds with her usual demeanor, always so poised. Ruhn resisted the
urge to put his hand on her shoulder.
— I knew it was a matter of days before Pollux and the others
smelled the pregnancy. Athalar was still with us at the time. So I staged
my own kidnapping and disappearance. I made it look like Ophion had
taken me. I didn't even know where I was running.
But I couldn't stop thinking about the babies. At that point, I already
knew they were twins and that I would do anything to keep them out of
my father's reach. From the hands of Sandriel. Deep down, I knew
what kind of monsters I served. I always knew. And I didn't want to be
like them. Not just for the babies' sake, but for mine as well. So, I ran
away.
—And that's where the Queen of the Ocean found you? - His voice
it sounded hoarse.
— I went to her. When I finally stopped to breathe, I remembered

what some rebels had said while I... interrogated them. That the ocean
itself would come to help them. It seemed too strange for me to decide
to take the risk. I entered a rebel base I knew and surrendered. I
begged them to take me to the ocean.
Ruhn couldn't imagine what she had felt at that time.
moment — knowing that her children's lives were at stake.
— The high-ranking commanders understood and placed me on
the Deep Freighter. The Queen of the Ocean welcomed me, but with
one caveat. I could stay on her ship, deliver the babies, and stay for a
while. But in exchange for her protection and the continued protection
of my children... I would have to return.
She would make up a lie about being interrogated and held prisoner for more
than two years and come back. He would gain the asteri's appreciation, their
trust. He would provide any information he obtained to Ophion and, by
extension, the Ocean Queen.
— And he couldn't see his children.
— No. I wouldn't see my children again. At least not until the Ocean
Queen allowed me to.
- That is terrible.
— It's what kept them safe.
—And kept you in her service.
— Yes. But I tried to save the rebels I encountered along the way.
path.
—Was it your idea or hers to save them? - He hadn't realized
how important that answer was until I asked the question.
— I told you, I understood who I worked for. And despite having to play
the role of interrogator and loyal servant, I did everything in my power to
mitigate the damage. Some agents were about to speak, to tell vital secrets.
Those were the ones I had to kill. “Accidents” during torture. But the deaths
were always quick and merciful. Those who resisted, or who had a chance...
I tried to get them out of there. It didn't always work.
— That was the case with Sofie Renast.

— That was the case with Sofie Renast — she said softly. — I didn't
mean for her to drown. It was a mistake in timing... I carry that with me.
He took her hand, slowly, to make sure he could touch her.
—What happened when you came back?

— Pollux declared. He said he had been desperate during the two years
I disappeared, looking for me. Who had slaughtered countless rebels trying
to find me. Old Lidia would have slept with him.
And I knew that would be perfect for my cover. The rest is history. — She
looked up at him. "I'm not completely innocent, you know," she added. — If it
weren't for my children, I could very well have become the person the world
believes I am
that I am, forever ignored the little voice that whispered that all this was wrong.
“It must have been so... lonely,” he commented.

Her eyes lit up in surprise as she realized he understood. Ruhn was
embarrassed.
“Then you showed up,” she said. — This almost inept and reckless agent.
He laughed.
She smiled.
—And you saw me. For the first time you saw me. I could talk to you like I
had never talked to anyone before. You reminded me that I was... I'm... alive. I
haven't felt this way in a long time.
He studied her face. I saw beyond the stunning beauty and

noticed the burning soul inside.
“Don't look at me like that,” she whispered.
- Like this? —he murmured in response.
But she shook her head and got up, walking to the door.
Ruhn reached her before she could touch the doorknob.
— Lidia.
She stopped, but didn't look at him.
He placed his hand on her cheek. Turned his face with
kindness. The skin so soft, so warm.
“Lidia,” he said, his voice rough. — Finding out who you were... fucked with
my head. Knowing that you were Doe, but also Lidia, and Day. My Day. But
now... — He swallowed.
- Now? — She looked at his mouth.
His dick reacted to that look. Ruhn said, his voice almost guttural: —Now,
it doesn't matter who you are, as long as you're mine. — She looked into his
eyes, surprised. — Because I'm yours, Day. Fuck, I'm all yours.
Her face tightened. And Ruhn couldn't bear to see her cry, with relief and
joy. Then he leaned forward, bringing his mouth to hers.
The kiss didn't start out innocently. Mouth open, teeth clashing, tongues
clashing. Her hands on his neck, pulling him towards her
closer, leaning against his chest.

Yes Yes Yes.
He squeezed her ass, which caused a moan to come from the back of
her throat. But she walked away: — Ruhn.
He stiffened.
- What? — If she wanted to stop, he would. Whatever she wanted, he
would give her.
She ran her fingers over his chest. Ruhn winced as she asked, “Are you
sure?”
— Yes. — He exhaled, nibbling her lower lip.

Guiding her to the bed and laying on top of her. Lidia ran her finger over the
place where her lip piercing used to be, which had been ripped out. Then the
eyebrow piercing.
“I couldn't bear it,” she whispered, placing her mouth on his forehead. —
I couldn't... — She started to shake. He hugged her tightly.
— I'm here — he said, we did—,it.

She trembled even more, as if everything she had experienced and done
was now releasing in aftershocks.
“I'm here,” he said again, leaning down to kiss her neck. - I am here. — A
kiss just below the ear. She moved her hands up, stroking his back. He had
stopped shaking. “I'm here,” he said, kissing the base of her neck. Unzipping
the front of his tactical jumpsuit.
She was without a bra. Those full breasts with pink nipples, which filled
his hands. He cursed and couldn't help it. He had to lower his head and suck
one of the nipples.
She took a deep breath, the sound almost seeming to burn his dick.
He grazed his teeth over her nipple, pulling slowly.
Her hands wandered around his waist, ending up in front of his body
and... no, not now. I wanted to explore it first. Without taking his mouth off
that delicious breast, he grabbed her wrists and held her
her hands above her head, settling more firmly between her legs.
She flinched.
It was the most discreet of movements, but he noticed it. The whole body
contracting. Ruhn stopped and raised his head. He looked at her.
For the hands I had held...
That son of a bitch.
Ruhn released her at once.
It would kill him. Rip off all of Pollux's limbs one by one,
pity for pity, for having done this to Lidia, for hurting her...
Her gaze softened. He placed his palms on
either side of his face and whispered:
— Just an old memory.
One that shouldn't be there. One that Pollux put there.
— Spirit.
He held her wrists gently, giving each one a kiss. He then rested them
both on her chest, his hands above her heart, kissing her as he did so.
—Ruhn. — She repeated, but he lay down next to her, hugging her waist.
“Stay here with me tonight,” he asked softly. A branch of their shadows

curled around the flames of the sconces, obscuring them. — No sex. Just...
sleep here with me.
He could feel her gaze, even in the dark. But then Lidia moved—the
zipper making noise as she removed her clothes. He took off his pants,
snuggling under the blankets.
Her warm, soft, lush body curled around his.
And yes, he wanted to be inside her so much that he had to grit his teeth,
but her scent calmed him. It calmed him down. He slid his hand around her
bare waist, pulling her closer, her breasts pressed against his chest. The
hand went down until it reached Lidia's ass, and it was enough to adjust the
angle a little so that it was between her legs.
But this was more than sex. And as their breathing returned to normal,
as they stared at each other in the near darkness, he had never felt so seen.
She ended up falling asleep. Breathing stabilizing.

But Ruhn stayed awake, holding her tight, and didn't let go until dawn.
***
—Is that a laser? — Tharion shouted as the rock that had been cut by the light
collapsed, blocking access to the two fae kings, Flynn, Dec and the murderous
twins. In addition to evil spirits.
But Bryce ordered: —

The river!
- What? shouted Hunt. Bryce was already running toward the water, which
flowed dark.
“Come in,” Bryce demanded, starlight swaying with each step.
— Teleport us to the other side! — replied Hunt. Flynn and Declan were
trapped on the other side of the cave-in, and needed to figure out how they
were going to get rid of the kings and the twins...
“Get in now,” ordered Bryce, and didn't wait before running to shore. Hunt
tried to grab her, to stop her from doing what seemed like great insanity...
She jumped. Entered the river. He could swear the starlight

glowed brighter, as if he agreed with her decision.
And then, the light in his chest went out.
And in the sudden darkness, with only Hunt's lightning flickering around
them, the evil spirits began to hiss, approaching, as if through the rock itself.
“Rio,” said Tharion, grabbing Sathia and running with her.

He dove in and she screamed as she was dragged along. The roar of the river
swallowed the sound—and both of them—in half a second.
There was no choice, really. Hunt looked at Baxian and saw his own
irritation reflected back at him. They could have faced the kings.
Bryce knew. And yet...
If Bryce had chosen to cause a landslide, blocking the kings instead of
killing them, preferring to go down the river instead of teleporting... she didn't
explain why, probably because
because of the argument they had. She hadn't said anything, which meant that his
own partner no longer trusted him, and he had no idea how to fix it...
"Athalar," Baxian called —, get out!

Hunt blinked. He was frozen in place, off balance.
Baxian was wide-eyed. Hunt shook off the shame.
Even though he was angry, he knew there was a reason behind everything Bryce did.
Hunt didn't wait to see if Baxian followed before he tightened his wings and
jumped.
Hunt shivered, teeth grinding, as he scrambled to the dark shore, dimly lit by
Bryce's star.
After a rapid and disorienting descent, the river calmed and flowed into the
calmest part around them, the small bank providing the only path of escape.
Tharion was already close to Bryce, with a trembling Sathia between them, and
Baxian was crawling to shore a few feet from Hunt, dark wings dragging on the
rock beside him.
Hunt exploded at his partner: —

What the fuck was that?
“Later, Athalar,” Bryce murmured, turning away from the water and facing a
natural stone arch, with a tunnel at the end. His star shone brighter than upriver.
— No. Now — he warned, standing up, the water dripping from his boots,
his wings soaked and too heavy. — You say we're all in this together, that we
make all the decisions together, and then you do shit like that?
She turned around, showing her teeth.

— Well, someone has to lead.
He became even angrier.
—And what the fuck does that mean?
— It means I'm not going to let my fear and my guilt swallow me. — The others
remained silent, several meters away. — It means I'm putting all this shit aside and
focusing on what needs to be done!
- And I dont? — He opened his arms, pointing to the caves around them. Lightning
flickered in his hands. — I'm here, aren't I?
— Do you really want to be? — Her voice echoed off the rocks. — Because it seems
your fear of the consequences outweighs your desire to defeat the Asteri.
“And get over it,” he growled, unable to stop the words from coming out. — It will be
very difficult to enjoy freedom if we are
dead.
— I'd rather die trying to get rid of them than spend the rest
of life knowing the truth without having done anything.
He could barely hear it above the roaring in his head.
— Everyone we love would also die. Are you willing to risk that? Your mother and
your father? Cooper? Syrinx? Fury and June? Are you willing to allow them all to be
tortured and killed?
She stiffened, shaking with rage.

Hunt took a deep, composing breath and shook the water off his wings.
— Look, I'm sorry! — He took a deep breath again. — I know now is not the time to
fight. This whole shit could be a colossal mistake, it could cause everyone we know to
end up dying, but... I'm with you on this one. I will support you. I promise.
She blinked. Then it blinked again.

“It's not enough for me,” he replied softly. - It is not the
enough for me.. that you are just with me in this.
— Well, get used to it — he replied.
— Get yourself together, Umbra Mortis. — And after saying this, she walked away
into the misty darkness, her star lighting the way.
— Vishh — Tharion said softly to Sathia and Baxian, but Hunt didn't smile when
everyone followed Bryce again, leaving a trail of water everywhere.
— How did you know you needed to come here? Baxian asked
Bryce, probably trying to ease the tension that now filled the cave
with as much force as the suffocating fog.
“Because I've been here before,” Bryce said, his voice still a little
rough.
Even Hunt's anger subsided enough that he wondered if she had
hit her head in the river. Especially when they approached a solid wall.
Bryce pushed the wall. An arc-shaped obstacle opened beneath

his palm. The starlight shone brighter, illuminating the wall and the
carving around the triangular door.
An eight-pointed star. Just like the scar on his chest.
“These caves,” Bryce said, careful not to look at him, “are almost
identical to the ones I passed through in the original Fae world. —
She took a step towards the star door. — There, the river ran between
them, providing shortcuts. The worm used these shortcuts to attack
stealthily. But my star shone brighter whenever it showed me a
certain path, as it happens here. She guided me to one of the rivers
in the fae world. I listened to her, went in and ended up in a passage
that led to the exact place I needed to be to hear Silene's truth. Just
now, my star shone brighter when I looked at the river. I figured he
would take it to another passage. And maybe I could find a little more
truth. Something that could help against the asteri.
— This logic is somewhat flawed — Tharion replied. — What

about Flynn and Dec? The Autumn King, Morven and the killer twins
are still with them, the fucking evil spirits are still...
— This confrontation will happen. — Bryce walked calmly into the
awaiting darkness, the swirling mists, adjusting the Truth Teller at her
side. - But not now.
They had no other choice but to follow her.
— What does all this mean? Baxian asked Hunt, almost
complaining.
Hunt put aside his lingering anger and focused on his partner.
— I think we're about to find out.

***
Flynn and Dec still hadn't turned up for breakfast the next day. And Ruhn's
quick run through the castle and its grounds revealed no sign of them. Or
the killer twins. Just a few fae nobles and servants, not knowing whether to
mock him or bow down. He ignored them and was running back to the room
when Lidia came out.
She took one look at his face and asked, “What

happened?”
He didn't wonder how she had guessed. He should have gotten better
at analyzing people throughout his adult life. Her survival depended on it.
Ruhn checked that his various blades were in place.

— Flynn and Dec... I don't think they're here. And not mine
weird cousins. Or Morven.
Her eyes flashed warily.
— One thing may not be linked to the other.
- They are. My friends don't abandon me. — And he, who
He had let himself be distracted by her, he hadn't allowed himself to think about it.
She placed her hand on his arm.
— Where do you think they went?
Ruhn took a deep breath.
— Morven and the twins have to be involved. They must have taken
Flynn and Dec to the Cave of the Princes.
—To try to attack Bryce?
Ruhn felt a lurch in his stomach.
- Perhaps. But I think Morven took them as bait... for me.
You must wait for me to follow.
—If it's a trap, then we shouldn't rush...
— My friends were quick to save me from the Asteri dungeons — he
replied, holding her beautiful gaze. — You found them and they dropped
everything to help. I can't leave them in Morven's hands.
— That's not what I was going to suggest — she replied, heading

towards her own room. Left the door open so he could see her
as he grabbed two guns from the bedside table and holstered them
on his thighs. — I'm telling us to think of a strategy before going to
their rescue.
Something burned in Ruhn's chest, and he didn't dare name the
feeling.
But he felt it anyway as they prepared to go and save their friends.
***
Hunt didn't let his guard down, not for a second. Even when every
word of his fight with Quinlan hung in the air like permanent fireworks.
Lightning flickered in one fist; the sword was stuck in the other. He left
neither of them aside as they entered a chamber at the other end of
the tunnel.
As they entered, he studied the walls, the black stones with

intricate carvings, the exquisite landscapes depicted there...
The stones scraped together, and before Hunt could turn around,
faster than lightning, the triangular door closed behind them.
Tharion, a step forward, gave a low whistle.

Baxian exchanged a look with Hunt who informed him that the
Hellhound suspected the same thing he did: only Bryce could open
that door. It wasn't a comforting thought. Not while Hunt was still
assessing what was to come.
The only object in the chamber was a sarcophagus carved from
white marble, whose hue contrasted with the deep black of the stone
walls. There was a statue of a fey male in armor on top of the
sarcophagus, his hands appearing to grasp an object that wasn't there.
Bryce nodded.
— This must be where the Aster usually stays when not in use. —
Her voice was monotonous, as if the argument had exhausted her.
Sathia approached, hesitantly.

"A tumba do Príncipe Pelias," he said, breathing deeply.

"Ruhn told me that his bizarre descendants are lined up on the walls of the
main passages," Bryce commented, pointing to the only other exit: a new stone
arch on the opposite side of the chamber, barely visible through the mist. She
adjusted Aster on her back and placed one of her hands on the Truth Revealer
at her side, adjusting it, as if the blades were causing some discomfort.
Hunt surveyed the vaulted space, examining the stories told on the walls: an
archipelago nestled above a sea of starlight, an idyllic and serene land—
everything the world believed Avallen to be.
— I don't see anything about Aster or the Revealer of Truth, very

less how to unite them,” admitted Hunt. —Or over the mists. The islands are
here, but nothing else. — Maybe this was a dead end for information.
“There might be something in the main passage,” Tharion suggested.
But Bryce approached the sarcophagus. Looked at the pretty face

and perfectly carved of the first Starry Prince.
“Hello, you fucking rapist,” she said, her voice cold with fury.
Hunt was barely breathing. He wondered if Urd was watching, if the

heaviness in the room was not the mist but rather the presence of the goddess
who had guided them here.
“You thought you won,” Bryce whispered to the
sarcophagus. — But she ended up getting over you. She had the last laugh.
—Bryce? — ventured Hunt.
She looked up from the carved representation of Pelias and there was not a
trace of humanity in her heart in that look. Just the purest fae hatred for the male
before her, dead long ago.
With a temporary peace offering, Hunt asked, “Can you, uh,

explain it to us?”
But it was Tharion who pointed to the empty death chamber.
—Perhaps Pelias built another chamber here where it is possible to find
some information about the sword, the dagger and the
such a portal for...

“No,” Bryce said softly. — We are exactly where we need to be. — She
pointed to the floor, the sculpture of rivers of stars snaking everywhere. —
And this place was not built by Pelias. He had nothing to do with these
tunnels, with the carvings. — She placed her hand on the floor, starlight
streaming through the carvings in the stone, the walls, the ceiling...
What seemed like seas or rivers of stars were now filled with starlight,
coming to... life. Moving, cascading, flowing. A secret illustration, which
could only be seen by those who had the gift and the vision.
The rippling river of starlight flowed straight into the sarcophagus in the
center of the chamber. It swirled around him like a whirlwind.
Bryce threw himself against the coffin, flexing his legs as he pushed...
And the sarcophagus slid away. Revealing a small, secret staircase

below.
Bryce panted for a moment and then broke into a smile.
huge.
— This place was built by Helena.

The sword and the knife attracted each other more strongly with each step
she took, descending the secret staircase. As if they wanted to be there,
as if they needed to be there. Just when Bryce thought he could take them
off for some relief, he reached the bottom of the stairs.
Through the mist, it was possible to hear the sound of water dripping
in a narrow stream, right in the center of the chamber. Some branch of the
river one level up, filtered through dark rock. And beside the stream stood
a black pitcher and bowl, resting on an engraving of an eight-pointed star.
- What the hell is that? — Hunt murmured, approaching her.

As if, despite the fight, he still wanted to protect her. But perhaps the need
to protect her was generating the guilt he felt and the fear that consumed
him.
Every word she said to him was intentional—just being with her wasn't
enough. He needed Hunt completely, fighting at his side. I didn't know how
to communicate this. How to make him understand and embrace this idea.
Her teeth were chattering against the cold, but even that seemed
irrelevant as Bryce examined the stream, the pitcher, and the bowl. The
eight-pointed star. Two of the ends had slits, one smaller and one larger.
There was nothing else in the room.

— Don't you know what that is? he asked Hunt. She
I could pretend that everything was normal, at least for now.
— I'm getting tired of these surprises — said Tharion, arriving at the foot of the
stairs with Sathia close behind.
Bryce lifted a finger and let her light condense there.
"And then there's this," Tharion said, but Bryce held Hunt's gaze as he pointed
to the ground and cut a small line. A little less than three centimeters and that's it.
— Helena carved this place using the same gifts that her sister, Silene, used
on their homeworld. But there's a big difference.
One reason why she chose this location to build the
caves.
She knelt down and rubbed her fingers through the dust that had formed on her face.
both sides of the cut. He raised his finger to Hunt's face.
— Do you recognize that?
Hunt studied the shiny black dust on his fingers and paled.
—That's black salt.

Bryce nodded slowly. Baxian sighed, seeming to say oh, fuck.
“These caves are made of black salt,” Bryce said. I had noticed since the evil
spirit had made those lines on the wall.
He recognized the smell, the rotten, oily sensation. One sample was enough to
confirm his suspicions.
Hunt frowned.
— Do you think Helena was trying to summon her sister from their home world?
“No,” Bryce said, shaking his head. — She made Silene come back to be
safe... She was a great asshole, but she would never do anything to put her sister
at risk.
—So why did you build this place? — asked Tharion.
It was Sathia who understood first.
—To conjure demons. To talk directly to Hell.
A stunned silence shook the room.
“They were the only allies left,” Bryce explained.
Helena might have done unforgivable things, but Bryce could

admit that the female had fought to the end, if this chamber was any
indication.
Hunt asked, wings trembling, “But why
make an underground labyrinth of caves?” And why dedicate it to
her rapist husband?
Bryce shrugged.
— So she would have a reason to keep coming here.
He built a lasting tomb, where the sword could remain forever until a
worthy successor emerged.
“You have no way of knowing that,” Hunt replied with all his might.
Careful. As if he was afraid of provoking another fight.
That caution echoed in her heart, but Bryce said: —
The caves are almost identical to the ones on her home world...
Helena grew up sailing through them. And Avallen, like the place she
grew up in, is shrouded in mist. And it's also a tenuous place. If all
this mist is any proof, perhaps Avallen, with its caves, is an even
more tenuous place than the fae world. The Prison, the court she had
been... Vesperus said he had chosen it because it was a tenuous
place, good for traveling between worlds. Theia knew this too. Did
you tell Helena?
Tharion cleared his throat.
—So Helena made all these caves just to have a private line with
Hell?
“Basically,” Bryce replied. — Avallen had everything she needed.
The way he built the caves indicates that he had resources. Helena
couldn't do all this in secret.
He needed Pelias's approval. And what better way to hide everything,
to protect them for years and years, than to pretend it was a great
temple to the patriarchy? Bryce pointed to the sarcophagus room
above them. For the bones you'd like to scatter in a septic tank. —
She knew that the fae males would never tear down or change this
place... Holy shit, Morven refuses to change Avallen, make her more
modern in any way, because
He wants it to remain the same as when Pelias was alive. Helena knew these
males well. She knew that if she hid it here, everything would be preserved
and remain intact.
— Okay, assuming for a moment that we believe all this — Tharion
objected — how do you know this was some secret chamber she used to talk
to Hell, of all places? What do the pitcher and bowl mean?
—That all this salt down here made you thirsty? — he suggested
Baxian e Hunt grunhiu.
But Sathia walked to the stream.
—That water passes right through the black salt, and this chamber is full
of it. — She looked into Bryce's eyes, furrowing her eyebrows. — Is it possible
to conjure a demon by drinking water mixed with black salt?
— I have never heard of anything like that, not even during my years of
demon hunting,” Hunt said.
— If Helena had been summoning demons here, someone would have
noticed — commented Baxian. — The temperature would drop enough for
anyone else in the caves to feel it, even one level higher.
“Maybe she wouldn't conjure them here,” Bryce said, walking over to the
jar and bowl, to the eight-pointed star where they rested. The cracks at two of
the ends are very deep... too deep for him to be able to see where they
penetrated the rock. But Bryce hit the side of his own head. - But here.
- What? Hunt asked.

Bryce knelt down and dipped the jar into the cold, dark water. O
container and bowl were also carved from black salt.
— The Starry Ones could speak between minds. They still can. — She
nodded towards the river one level above, the killer twins lurking somewhere
on the other side. — Maybe the salt helped her talk between minds with Hell.
Maybe someone in Hell can tell us how to kill the asteri. Apollion himself ate
Sirius. Maybe he had the answer this whole time.
Hunt shouted:
- Do not you dare...

Bryce raised the jug to her lips, but a bolt of lightning shattered the object before she
could drink.
She turned around, irritation showing throughout her body.
Hunt was blazing with lightning, furious as he charged at her.
— Don't drink that...

— Now is not the time to be an asshole alpha!
—
... without me — he concluded.
Bryce gaped at her partner as he picked up the bowl and held it out to her.
Ready to follow her to Hell.
***
Together then. As their powers and their souls were linked, they would drink the salt water
together.
“That...might be a bad idea,” Tharion said as Bryce and Hunt sat facing each other, knee
to knee and hand to hand.
Hunt was inclined to agree. But he said:

—Apollion appeared to me and Bryce in a dream. Perhaps he was using the same
method of communication that he used with Helena.
"So what," Baxian said as Sathia filled the water bowl, "are you going to drink and hope
you pass out and... talk to Hell?" Ask for the answers about the sword and the knife that
perhaps they forgot to tell you until now?
“Helena left this here,” Bryce said, looking into Hunt's eyes. There was no doubt or fear,
just the purest focus shining in his partner's eyes. — Just like Silene left everything in the
caves of her home world. For someone to find. Someone who could carry the Aster and who
would be brought here by starlight.
Someone who has also discovered the truth... and knows where to look. — Bryce looked at
the ceiling, the stairs leading up. — I think Helena left this to help us.
— Helena and Silene were not... good people — warned Baxian.

“No, but they hated the asteri,” Bryce said. — They wanted to get rid of
them as much as we did. — And it was hope that shone in his eyes, so
bright that Hunt almost lost his breath. For a moment, shorter than the blink
of an eye, he came to believe that they would succeed in their mission. —
If it gives us a chance, whatever it is, we have to try. I want answers. I want
the truth.
Bryce lifted the bowl to his lips and drank.

***
Bryce was falling backwards and still wasn't moving. His body remained
kneeling, but his soul fell, frozen, into darkness, into nothingness and
nowhere. A presence around her, next to her, flashed like lightning. Hunt.
He was with her. His soul falling beside her.

It was a leap. This was all a leap, but she had to believe that Urd had
guided her here. That Helena had been as smart as her sister and would
have fought against the male who abused her until the end. That Helena
had spent her whole life playing that game, not just for her, but for future
generations.
Hoping that perhaps one day, millennia after her death, another female
might emerge, with starlight—Theia's starlight—in her veins. Not transmitted
by Pelias, but by Helena herself. Theia's starlight.
Passed to her. Bryce Adelaide Quinlan.

And it may be that neither Helena nor Silene chose her, with that
anti-human nonsense, but that wasn't her problem.
The falling sensation stopped. There was only darkness, cold and dry.
Its starlight flickered, a faint, pale light in the impenetrable pitch black. A
hand found hers, and she didn't need to look to know that Hunt was by her
side in... wherever she was.
This dream world.
Two blue lights shined in the distance, approaching them. Hunt's fingers
tightened around hers in warning. Your lightning
flickered. But the lights got closer. Closer and closer. And when they
passed by the light of their star...
Aidas showed a discreet smile — joy and hope
illuminating his magnificent eyes.
— It looks like you got a little lost on the way to me, Bryce Quinlan.
But welcome to Hell.
It took two days of work without rest to help the people of Prados.
But Ithan didn't care, he barely thought about the need to go to
Avallen to find Sofie's body or the exhaustion while digging through
the rubble, carrying the dead or dying, or holding the injured long
enough for Hypaxia or another medwitch to save them. And there
were still many. So many humans, injured or dead.
No sign of the governor, but at least the 33rd appeared. The Aux
and a small number of wolves arrived soon after. Ithan kept away
from the wolves, both to avoid conflict and to avoid being spotted by
any Asteri sympathizers who might have come to brag about the
destruction.
He kept his head down. He continued working. Doing what little I
could to help, to clean up or at least move those who were gone with
dignity.
There were no Sailboats, not for humans. There were never
Sailboats for them. So their bodies were laid out in rows and rows
inside the lobby of the nearest intact office building.
Nearly a dozen wolves appeared. The equivalent of two packs
were willing to help. How embarrassing.
Something had to change in that world. And as Ithan piled up the

dead, as he placed child after child in the building's lobby, he realized
that change had to start with him.

He had to get to Avallen. I had to bring Sigrid back.
Only with her, another Fendyr heiress to lead the wolves... only then
could changes begin.
A new future. For all of them.
***
For the first five minutes, Tharion didn't stop monitoring Bryce and Hunt's
breathing.
Baxian and Tharion caught them as their bodies fell backwards,
unconscious, causing them to lie on the black salt floor. They didn't
move. The only sign that they were alive was their chests rising and
falling. Whatever was happening was actually happening in everyone's
mind.
Tharion, Sathia and Baxian sat a few meters away
of friends, full of caution.
— How long are we going to wait? asked Sathia. - Until
try to wake them up, I mean.
Tharion exchanged a look with Baxian.
- Fifteen minutes?
— Thirty better — replied Baxian. Then he added: — But we will
continue monitoring.
Silence fell, broken only by their breathing and the sound of the
stream running through the cave. Beside Tharion, Sathia turned the bowl
of black salt in her slender hands, over and over again.
Lost in your thoughts.
— Have you ever done something like this? asked Baxian, noticing
her discomfort.
“No,” she replied. — I'm not very adventurous.
— Have you already gone through your Ordeal? asked Baxian.
She nodded discreetly. It hadn't been a good experience.
Part of Tharion wanted to ask more, but he said, "What happened

between you and your brother that made you so separated?"
She looked at him irritably.

—What happened between you and the River Queen that she
put such a high bounty on your head?
He gave an indolent smile.
- You do not know?
— I gathered some information. You upset her prim daughter and had to run away.
But what did you do to piss her off?
Tharion drummed his fingers on the cold stone floor.
— I wanted to cancel our engagement. And she doesn't.
Sathia straightened up.
— Were you engaged? From the daughter of the Queen of Rio?
—For ten years.
She placed the bowl on the floor.
— And after ten years, she didn't realize that you didn't want to get married?
Tharion looked to where Bryce and Hunt were lying, completely still.
— I don't feel like talking about it at all.

Even so, Sathia pressed: — So you
called it off, but she... tried to keep the engagement?
— And stay with me. Forever.
The consternation on her face made him laugh. It was better than crying.
- Yes.
—But you could have swum away.
— You can't swim away from the Queen of the River. She doesn't deny her daughter
anything. She would have locked me in my humanoid form, to ensure I couldn't swim.
Again, his face was filled with despondency.

—Would she do that to someone of her kind? Destroy its fins to confine it?
“She's not a mermaid,” he said. —She is an elemental. AND

yes, she does it to punish sea creatures all the time.
- This is horrible.
—And treat female fae like brood mares and force them to
getting married is too.
Sathia just tilted her head.
— You ran away from your marriage to the River Queen's daughter...
only to end up married to a stranger.
He knew Baxian was listening intently, though the Hellhound kept his
focus on Bryce and Athalar.
— It seemed like a better option.
- Does not make sense.
He sighed. And perhaps because they were on some cursed island in
the middle of the Haldren, perhaps because they were hundreds of feet
underground, with only Cthona as a witness, he said:
— My younger sister, Lesia. She, um, died last year.
Sathia seemed surprised by the turn the conversation had taken.
“I'm sorry, Tharion,” he said gently. He seemed serious.

Baxian murmurou:
- I did not know that. My condolences, Ketos.
Tharion couldn't stop Lesia's memory from breaking through
your mind. Redhead, beautiful and alive. His chest hurt, threatening to collapse.
But it was better than her other memory—the photographs the killer had
taken of her body. What he had done to her when Tharion wasn't there to
protect her.
Tharion continued:
— I know you and Flynn have a... strained relationship. But still, you're
his little sister. And he was in trouble. And I knew that if Lesia was in the
same situation, I would want a decent male to help her.
Sathia's eyes softened.

- Well thank you. If we can get through all this — she
He waved his hand to the caves, to the world beyond to seek a way -, I go
to free you from this... situation.
— Believe me, it's in my interests to stay married to you until the River
Queen's daughter chooses another poor thing. If I
you are single...

— She will come after you.
Tharion nodded.
— It's cowardly and pathetic, I know. I mean, it's likely that the mother
come after me and kill me by any means possible. But at least I won't have to spend the rest
of my life as a royal concubine.
- All good. — Sathia straightened her shoulders. — We're still married, then. — She gave
a discreet smile. - For now. — Then she looked at Bryce and Hunt. — Do you think they're
really in Hell?
— Part of me hopes so, another part hopes not — replied Tharion.
“They're in Hell,” Baxian said calmly.

Sathia turned to him.
- How do you know?
Baxian pointed to his sleeping friends.
- Look.
Bryce and Hunt lay peacefully on the black salt floor, their hands intertwined and their
bodies covered in a thin layer of ice.
***
The black boat Aidas took Bryce and Hunt to was a mix of the one that had taken them to
Avallen and the boat that transported the bodies to the Bone Quarter. But instead of a deer
head, there was a deer skull on the bow, with greenish flames flickering in its eyes as it sailed
through the cave. The mysterious green light illuminated black rocks carved into pillars and
buildings, walkways and temples.
Ancestral. And empty.

Bryce had never seen a place so lifeless. So... still. Even the Quarteirão dos Ossos had
the feeling of being inhabited, even if by the dead.
But nothing moved there.

The river was wide but placid. The sound of the water lapping against the hull seemed
to echo too loudly over the rocks, under the roof so high that
disappeared into the

darkness. “It's like a city of the dead,” Hunt murmured, wrapping a wing
around Bryce.
Aidas turned from where he was on the bow, holding in his hands a
long stick that he used to guide them.
—That's because it is. — He gestured with his pale hand to the buildings,
temples and avenues. — This is where our beloved dead can rest, with all
the comforts of life around them.
“But we're not... really here,” Bryce said. - Right?
Are we just dreaming?
“In a way,” said Aidas. — Your physical body remains in your world. He
looked over his shoulder. — In Helena's cave.
“You knew that all along,” Hunt accused.

Aidas' eyes shone.
—Would you have believed me?
Bryce was so close to Hunt that he felt every muscle in his body.
his body tenses.
His partner said, —
The truth might have been a good place to start.
Before Aidas could respond, the boat approached a small pier that led to
what appeared to be a temple. A figure emerged from between the temple
pillars and walked down the front steps.
Golden hair, glowing skin.

Hunt's lightning flashed, illuminating the entire city and the river.
Apollion raised his hand. Pure, crackling lightning sparking
around him, forming an arc towards Hunt's.
“Welcome, son,” said the Moat Prince.
Each and every word seemed to have slipped from Hunt's mind.
Apollion, the Prince of the Moat, had just called him...
Bryce jumped out of the boat and reached the shore, his chest burning
with starlight.
—What the hell did you just say?
It didn't matter the tension or the open fight between them; she would still
defend him in any way she could. Hunt leapt after her, the wings steadying
him as his boots clacked on the loose black rocks. Apollion called him son...
The Moat Prince descended the stairs, each step seeming to echo
through the vast cavern. Another male in black armor followed him, his curly
hair almost hidden by his war helmet.
“Thanatos,” Bryce declared, approaching, pebbles

slipping under her neon pink sneakers.
Hunt still had enough sense to stay at his partner's side, but Aidas was
already there, raising his hand.
— We're here to talk. No violence.
From within the ornate helmet, Thanatos's eyes glowed.
with a murderous rage.
— Do as he says — Apollion ordered the Prince of the Ravine,

stopping at the base of the temple steps.
Hunt's lightning coiled around his forearms, ready
to attack as he growled at the Moat Prince, “What the fuck
do you mean by—”
He stopped talking when Aidas touched Bryce's shoulder. Acting on
instinct, Hunt lunged, intending to push the Gorge Prince away from his
partner.
He passed right by the demon prince.
Hunt stumbled and threw up his hands. His fingers glowed faintly
with a pale, bluish light. Bryce had the same aura around him.
They were ghosts there.
Apollion chuckled softly as Hunt retreated to Bryce's side once more.
— You will find that you cannot hurt us, nor we you, in such a state.
— His deep voice resounded like thunder on the walls.
Son. It wasn't possible...
— Helena planned it like this — explained Aidas. His gaze remained
fixed on Bryce as he explained, “During my time with Theia, Helena
was a quiet girl, but she was always listening.
— You talked too much — replied Thanatos.

Aidas ignored him.
— Helena learned that black salt would allow her to
communicate with us while protecting your mind and soul.
Just like the barrier that Bryce had placed in his apartment the day
he cast Aidas. When Hunt still considered her a frivolous party girl,
playing with fire.
“Okay,” Hunt interrupted. — Great, we're protected. — He looked at
the Moat Prince. Shaking to the bone, but trying hard to overcome the
fear, the dread. — What's this about calling me son?
Thanatos laughed mockingly.

— You are not his son. — He ripped off his war helmet,
holding it under his arm. — At most, he is my son.
Hunt's knees wobbled.
- What?
— Let's sit down and talk in a civilized way — Aidas said
at Bryce, who was looking at the shadows of the temple looming at the
top of the stairs.
— I think we're good here — She dodged. Hunt resumed
your thoughts enough to follow her line of reasoning.
He saw them then. The dogs. Her milky eyes shone in the darkness
between the pillars.
“They won't hurt you,” Aidas assured, pointing to the dogs that
looked a lot like the Shepherd Bryce and Hunt had fought in the Bone
Quarter. — They are companions of Thanatos.
Hunt took his lightning, though he could do nothing in this

insubstantial form. It ran through his fingers, normally a familiar,
comforting presence, but...
No one ever knew who fathered him. Where did that lightning come
from?
“And that's why I'm worried,” Bryce said, without taking his attention
away from the dogs. She nodded at Thanatos. — He eats souls...
“The Temple of Chaos is a sacred place,” Apollion said sharply. —

We will never contaminate it with violence. — The words resounded like
thunder again.
Hunt assessed Apollion and then Thanatos. What the fuck...
But Thanatos sniffed Bryce, almost as canine as the dogs in the
shadows, and
said, “Your starlight smells... fresher.”
The hunger present in the male's words calmed Hunt's chaotic mind,
transforming him into a weapon prepared for violence.
He didn't give a shit if he never got answers about his ancestors. If that
idiot made a move on Bryce, ghostly forms or not...
Bryce said nonchalantly,

“New deodorant.
— No — said Thanatos, not understanding the joke — I can smell it
in your spirit. I am the Prince of Souls... with you
recognize these things. His power was touched by something new.

Bryce rolled his eyes, but for a moment Hunt wondered if Thanatos
was right: Bryce had explained how the prism in the Autumn King's office
had revealed that his light was now mixed with darkness, as if it had
become the dim light of day. of twilight...
— We don't have much time — said Aidas irritably. — The dream won't
last long. Please... enter the temple. — He inclined his head in a half-bow.
— On my honor, no harm will come to you.
Hunt opened his mouth to say that the Gorge Prince's honor didn't
mean shit, but Bryce's whiskey-colored eyes took Aidas up and down,
taking his time. And then she said:
- All good.
Setting aside all thoughts and furious questions for a moment, Hunt
kept an eye on the exit behind them as they left the rocky shore for the
smooth steps of the temple. As they ascended, they entered a space that
was almost a mirror of the temples of their homeland—in fact, the layout
was identical to the last temple Hunt had been to: the Temple of Urd.
He pushed away the memory of Pippa Spetsos's ambush, of the

desperate fight for their lives. How they hid behind the altar, narrowly
escaping. Instead of the black stone altar in the center of the temple, a
bottomless pit was the main focal point. Five carved black wooden chairs
surrounded him.
Hunt and Bryce took the seats closest to both the river and the boat
still parked on the bank. Aidas chose the one on Bryce's other side, sitting
down with soft, feline grace. The braziers reflected the bluish light on their
blond hair.
Apollion's eyes glowed like coals as he told
Hunt:
— I am disappointed to see that you have not yet freed yourself from
the black crown, Orion Athalar.
“Someone explain to me what the fuck this is,” Hunt retorted. Of all the
things he had ever imagined for his life, sitting in a circle
with three Princes of Hell was nowhere on the list.

— The black crowns were collars in Hell — replied Thanatos in a
taciturn manner. His powerful body seemed prepared to leap through that
pit and attack. Hunt monitored his every breath. — Spells created by the
asteri to enslave us. They were a link, which the Asteri adapted for their
next war... on Midgard.
Hunt turned to Aidas.

— You seemed surprised to see one of those on me the first time we
met. Why?
But before Aidas could begin, Apollion replied: — Because the
Princes of Hell cannot be contained by the black crowns. The Asteri
discovered this... and it was their undoing. As you were made by the Princes
of Hell, the crown should not be able to hold you.
Made by them? For these sons of bitches?

Hunt had no idea what to say, what to do as everything in his life swirled
and blurred, his heartbeat increasing until it became thunderous.
- Me? not me...

“Start talking,” Bryce snapped at Apollion, moving his chair a few inches
closer to Hunt's. Not out of fear, Hunt knew, but out of solidarity. It made
something settle inside him, calmed his irregular heartbeat. — Hunt's
mother was an angel.
His mother's loving, tired face flashed before his eyes
of Hunt, causing a pang of pain in his heart.
"She was," Apollion said, and the way she smiled...
The purest rage numbed all of Hunt's senses.
— You dared...
“She was not mistreated,” Aidas said, raising an elegant hand.
— We may command nightmares, but we are not monsters.
“Explain,” Bryce ordered the demon princes, starlight rippling from her.
Thanatos sniffed the air once more, savoring it, and received a furious glare
from Aidas. - From the start.
Despite the heated words they exchanged earlier, Hunt had never loved
her more, never been more grateful that Urd had chosen a
such a loyal and badass partner for him. They could trust her to get the
answers they needed.
- What do you know? — Aidas asked her. — Not just about Athalar,
but about the entire history of Midgard.
“Rigelus has a small room where he displays his achievements,”
Bryce said, the softness fading from his face as he crossed his arms. —
He has a whole section where he shows how to invade your planet. And
I know Hell once had warring factions, but you guys sorted all that shit
out and marched together to drive out the Asteri. A year later, you hunted
them across the stars and found them on Midgard. They fought with
them again and this time it didn't work. You were driven from Midgard
and have been trying to return through the Northern Rift ever since.
- That is all? — said Apollion slowly.

Bryce said cautiously to Aidas, “I know
you loved Theia. That you fought for her.
The Gorge Prince studied his long, slender hands.
- I loved. And I continued to love her long after her death.
Hunt had the sensation that the darkness in the pit before them was
breathing.
— Even if she wasn't better than the Asteri? — Bryce challenged.
Aidas raised his head.

— There is no denying how Theia spent most of her existence. But
there was kindness in her, Bryce Quinlan. And love. She regretted her
actions, both on her home world and on Midgard. She tried to make
things right.
“He didn't do much, when it was too late,” Bryce replied.
“I know,” Aidas admitted. — Believe me, I know. But there are also
many things I regret. — He swallowed hard, highlighting the strong
muscles in his neck.
- What happened? — Bryce pressed. Hunt almost preferred not to
know.
Aidas sighed, the sound heavy with the passing of countless
millennia.
— The Asteri ordered Pelias to use the Horn to close the Northern
Rift, to defend themselves from attacks. That's what he did, isolating
all the other worlds in the process, but the Horn broke before he could
close it to Hell once and for all. A tiny gap was left in the Rift and my
kind were able to sneak through. Helena used black salt to contact me,
hoping to launch another offensive against the Asteri, but we couldn't
figure out how. Unless the Rift was wide open, we wouldn't be able to
attack. And there were so few of us that we wouldn't have the slightest
chance.
Thanatos continued the narrative, resting his helmet on his knee.

— The vampires and the reapers deserted us in the name of the
Asteri. They betrayed us, the cowards. — From the shadows behind
him, his dogs growled, as if in agreement. — They were mostly our
captains and lieutenants. Our armies were in shambles without them.
We needed time to recover.
— I believe Helena realized this — continued Aidas — that she
would not live to see the war won. And neither do her children.
They took a lot from their father. And they also enjoyed the benefits of
being in favor of the asteri.
Bryce uncrossed his arms, leaning forward.
— I'm sorry, but I still don't understand why Helena built the Cave
of the Princes. Just to talk to you like long-distance friends?
The mouth full of Aidas rose in one corner.

— In a way, yes. Helena needed our advice. But by that time, she
had also discovered what Theia had done in her last moments of life.
The Cave of the Princes was as dirty and messy as Ruhn remembered.
But at least he had some starlight to keep the evil spirits at bay in the
misty darkness. Even though it took most of his concentration to summon
it and keep it glowing.
It had been hours since he and Lidia had walked in there, and he
had immediately smelled Flynn and Dec wafting through the air. Along
with Morven's and the killer twins'. But it was the sixth smell that sent
Ruhn running through the passages, Lidia keeping up with him easily.
A scent that haunted his nightmares, whether he was awake or asleep.
Somehow, the Autumn King was there. And the father was not
waiting for Ruhn, but heading deeper into the caves, after Bryce. Ruhn
kept going, even when his legs demanded a break.
The scents of Morven and her father — with the others who were
with them — passed through almost hidden tunnels and steep passages,
as if the Stag King knew all the secret and direct routes.
As King of Avallen, it was very likely that he did. Or perhaps evil spirits
showed the way.
Finally, Ruhn's body demanded water and he took a break.
Lidia didn't complain, she did nothing but follow him, always alert to any
threat. However, as they ran down the hall once again, she said softly: — I'm
sorry about last night.
Despite all his instincts screaming at Ruhn to hurry, he stopped.
- What are you talking about?

She swallowed hard, her face almost luminous in the starlight.
— When I... withdrew.
He didn't react.
— Why the hell would you apologize for that?
It was Pollux who should apologize. By Hell, Ruhn would force him to
apologize to Lidia—on his knees—before putting a bullet right in the son of a
bitch's head.
Her cheeks were flushed, a rosy glow against her skin.
misty darkness behind him.
— I like to think I'm immune to... lingering memories.
Ruhn shook his head, about to protest, when she continued:
— Everything I did with Pollux, I did because I wanted to. Even though at
Sometimes I found his type of entertainment difficult to stomach.
“I understand,” Ruhn said, a little hoarsely. - In truth.
I'm not judging, Lidia. We don't have to do anything you don't want to do.
Never.
- But I want.
Lidia looked at his mouth.
- I want? — he asked, his voice coming out in a lower tone.
— Know what your body is like. Your mouth. In real life. Not in a dream
world.
His dick got hard, and Ruhn moved. He didn't hide the lust in his tone of
voice, his smell, when he said: — Whenever you want,
Lidia.
Less now, obviously. But after he resolved what
whatever shit was going on in the caves...
The pulse in her throat seemed to vibrate in response.
— I want you all the time.

Curse you. Ruhn bowed. He ran his mouth and tongue across the
her neck. Lidia panted, making his balls throb.
Ruhn said against her soft skin:
— When we get out of these caves, will you show me
exactly where you want me, and how you want me.
She squirmed a little, and he knew that if he slid his hand
between her legs, you would see that she was all wet.
“Ruhn,” she murmured.
He kissed her neck again, watching through heavy eyelids as her nipples
hardened, peeking through the thin fabric of her shirt. He would still explore them a lot.
Maybe you could explore a little...
An ancient, harsh hissing sounded from the rocks nearby.

It wasn't the time or the place. Ruhn moved away from Lidia,
meeting your eyes. They were excited with lust.
But she cleared her throat.
— We have to continue.
“Yes,” he said.
“Maybe you should, uh, stop for a moment,” she commented,
smirking at the bulge in his pants.
He looked at her, ironically.
—Do you think the evil spirits won't like it?
Lidia laughed. Then she grabbed his hand, pulling him back into a steady, rhythmic
run.
— I want to be the only one who appreciates this from now on.
He couldn't contain the macho pride that flooded him.
— I can accept that.
***
“I know what Theia did,” Bryce said, shaking his head. — She tried to send her
daughters back to their home world, but only Silene succeeded.
Aidas raised an eyebrow.

— I assume you have discovered something of the truth, if you know

Silene by name. Did you understand what happened to her?
— She left a... a magical video that explained everything. — Bryce

pulled the Truth Teller from the sheath at his side. There, at least, the
blades didn't call to each other. — Silene had this when she returned to
her home world. And now I've brought it back to Midgard.
Aidas was scared when he saw the dagger.

— Did Silene tell you what happened in that last meeting with her
mother?
—Tell me soon, Aidas.
Thanatos and Apollion fidgeted in their seats, irritated by her
irreverence, but Aidas's mouth curved into a smile.
— It took years before Helena and I could understand what

that Theia did with her magic.
“She protected her daughters,” Bryce said, remembering how Theia's
star split into three, with one sphere going to each daughter. — He used
the Harp to carry his magic to one of them, as a kind of protection spell.
Aidas nodded.
— Theia used the Harp to divide her magic, all her magic, between
the three of them. A third for Silene. A rosary for Helena. And the rest
stayed with Theia. — An ancient sadness appeared in his eyes.
— But she didn't save enough to protect herself. Why do you think Theia
died at the hands of Pelias that day? With only a third of her power, she
didn't stand a chance against him.
—And the sword and the knife? asked Bryce.
— Theia did everything she could to prevent the Asteri from wielding
their power to use the sword and knife. Both weapons were linked to her
power, as Theia had helped make them both — Aidas explained calmly.
— That's why Aster calls for the descendantsof Helena... of Theia. But
only those who have enough Theia starlight to activate their power. Your
Ancestors called these Star Fae. The Asteri had no power over the
blades; they don't have Theia's connection to weapons. As the Aster and
the knife were both Made by Theia at the same time, the bond between
them has always united them. They have been trying to unite for a long
time, as they were at the time of their Creation.
“Like attracts,” Bryce murmured. — That's why Aster and the Truth
Revealer continue to want to be close to each other. Why are they so
excited?
Aidas nodded.
— I believe that when you opened the Gate, despite your desire to
come to Hell, Aster's desire to be close to the knife and vice versa was
so strong that the portal was redirected to the world where they were
Made. With the door closed between the worlds, they were unable to
reunite. But once you opened it, the pull of the blades was stronger than
your untrained will.
With Aster in hand, she went straight to the Truth Revealer, landing
on that grass just a few meters from Azriel and the dagger.
Bryce shuddered at the blades.

— I'm trying not to be freaked out by the fact that these things are,
like... sentient. —But she made sense, didn't she? The attraction, the
connection between the two. Holy shit, I could have sworn they were
talking the night before. Like two friends who had been apart for a long
time and were now catching up.
More than fifteen thousand years of separation.

Aidas continued:
— But it wasn't just the blades you gathered in the world
Fae Christmas, was it?
Bryce's hands glowed faintly with that ghostly aura.
“No,” she admitted. — I think... I think I've claimed some of Theia's

magic. Silene left her waiting there. — She thought it was another star,
not a piece of a larger star.
Aidas didn't seem surprised, but the other two princes wore such similar
confused expressions that she almost smiled. Bryce looked at Hunt, who
nodded discreetly. Carry on, he seemed to say.
Then Bryce explained how she claimed the power of the Prison, what
she saw and learned from Silene's memory, her confrontation with Vesperus.
Bryce finished:
— I thought Silene had left her power, but she still had magic afterwards.
It must have been Theia's power that she left in the stones. It was absorbed
by mine, as if it were mine. And when my light shone through the Autumn
King's prism, it was transformed.
It felt... more complete. Now tinged with darkness.
Aidas reflected:
— I would say you already had a third of Theia's power, the part that
was originally given to Helena... that came to you through Helena's lineage,
and you took another third from Silene's hiding place. But if you can find the
last third, the part Theia had kept for herself... I wonder what her light will
look like then. What will you be able to do?
— You met Theia — said Bryce — you tell me.

— I believe you already started to see some glimpses — declared Aidas
— when you found what Silene had
escondido.
Bryce considered.
— The power of the laser?
Echo laughed.
— Theia called it starfire. But yes.

Bryce frowned. — Is...
is it the same as the asteri? — She hadn't realized how much this doubt
bothered her. It devoured Bryce from the inside.
“No,” interrupted Apollion, frowning. —They are similar in their ability to
destroy, but the power of the asteri is a blunt and wicked tool of destruction.
Aidas added, his eyes shining with sympathy:

—The destructiveness of starfire is just one facet of a wondrous gift. The

biggest difference, obviously, is in how the bearer chooses to use it.
Bryce gave a small smile as the weight was lifted from his shoulders.
back.
Hunt interrupted:
— So, just to understand: there is still a third fraction of the
power of Theia out there... or was there?
— Helena knew that the fraction of her mother's magic she possessed
would be passed on to future generations — said Aidas. —But when Theia died,
all that was left of her power stayed in Aster. Theia placed it on the blade after
separating her daughters' share.
- Let me see if I got it. Theia divided her power into three parts: one for each
of her daughters, and she transferred the last part to Aster. So the final part of
her magic is in that blade?
Waiting there all this time?
“No,” said Aidas. — Helena removed it.
Bryce groaned.
- Serious? Can nothing be easy?
Aidas snorted.
— Helena didn't think it wise to leave what was left of Theia's star on the
sword, even in secret.
— But how would the Asteri have been able to exercise Theia's power to
use the sword and the knife — asked Bryce — if she was dead?
“They could have revived her,” Hunt said quietly.

Aidas agreed.
—Theia did not want them to access the full star strength in her bloodline,
even through her corpse. So she divided it into three, putting just enough in
Aster to face Pelias, so as to buy time for her daughters to escape. She gave
her magic to her daughters, thinking they would both escape to their home world
and be out of the reach of the asteri forever.
— Why not send Aster with them too?

“Because then the knife and the sword would be together,” he said.
Thanatos.
— But what kind of threat do they pose? asked Bryce, almost shouting in
irritation. — The Autumn King said they can open a portal to nowhere… Is
that it?
— Yes — confirmed Aidas. —And together, they can unleash final
destruction. Theia separated them to prevent the asteri from having this
ability. She didn't know how the weapons could be joined by someone
outside of her bloodline, but the Asteri were known for being...creative.
—How did Helena transfer the power of the sword? She didn't have the
Harp,” Bryce asked.
“No,” Aidas agreed. — But Helena knew that Midgard possessed magic
of its own. A type of raw magic that was weaker than that of his home world,
but could be potent in high concentrations. Helena learned that she flowed
through the world in great highways, natural channels for magic.
“The ley lines,” Bryce whispered.

Aidas nodded.
— These lines are capable of transporting magic, but also of carrying
communications over great distances. —Like those between the Crescent
City Gates, the way she spoke to Danika the day she made the Descent. —
Ley lines are all over the universe. And the planets, like Midgard, Hell, and
the Fae homeworld, are at the top of these lines, united by time, space, and
the Void itself. Thinning the veils that separate us. Asteri have long chosen
worlds that are on ley lines for this exact purpose. To make movement and
colonization between these planets easier. There are certain locations on
each of these worlds where most of the ley lines overlap, and therefore the
barrier between the worlds is weaker.
Everything fit.
“Thin places,” Bryce said with sudden certainty.
— Exactly — replied Apollion for Aidas, with a nod of approval. —The
Northern Rift, the Southern Rift… both sit atop a tremendous knot of ley
lines. And even though those under
Avallen are not so strong, the island is a single tenuous place, thanks to the
black salt... which connects it to Hell.
— And the mists? Hunt asked. — What's the matter with them?
— The mists are the result of the power of ley lines — said Aidas.
— They are an indication of a tenuous place. Hoping to find a ley line strong
enough to help her transfer and hide Theia's power, Helena sent a fleet of
earth-magic fey to search every misty place they could find on Midgard. When
she heard about a place shrouded in mist so thick it was almost impossible
to penetrate, Helena went to investigate. The mists opened for her... as if
they were waiting for her. She found the small network of caves in Avallen...
and the black salt beneath the surface.
Aidas gave a dark smile.

— She returned to the Eternal City and convinced Pelias that it was the
only place worthy of burying him. He was vain and arrogant enough to believe
her. So they established the fae kingdom in Avallen, and she carved her royal
tomb in the rock.
He invented lies about wanting future generations to worship him, that they
would have to be born with the right blood to earn the privilege of winning his
sword, which would be buried with him.
Aidas gestured toward Aster, sheathed behind Bryce's back.
— Helena knew that Pelias would never part with his trophy, at least until
he died. And when he finally died, she used the power of Avallen's ley lines
to take the star that her mother had imbued in Aster and hide it.
—Then why the prophecy about the sword and the knife? Hunt asked. —
If Theia was so scared of them reuniting, why all this nonsense about trying
to get them back together?
Aidas crossed his legs.
— Helena invented this prophecy, sowing it in fae lore.
She knew that, despite all her mother's fear, it was necessary to have the
sword and the knife to destroy the asteri. She knew that if a descendant
appeared who could claim all three parts of the magic, he would
I would need the sword and the knife to make this power count. The power of Theia,
when complete, is the only thing that can unite and activate the true power of these
blades and stop the tyranny of the Asteri.
Bryce's mouth was dry. He had finally found a way to defeat the Asteri.
—So where is it? asked Bryce. —Where is the last part of Theia's power?
“I don't know,” Aidas said sadly. — Helena didn’t tell anyone, not even me.
Bryce sighed in frustration, but Hunt continued to pressure the princes.
— So to unite the sword and the knife, Bryce needs to find the starlight that
Helena took from Aster, the last third of Theia's power, which is hidden somewhere
in Avallen?
— Yes — confirmed Aidas.
— But how do I get them to open that portal to somewhere
none... and what the hell does that mean, anyway? — Bryce complained.
Thanatos said:
— We've been asking ourselves this for ages.
Aidas ran his hand through his golden hair.
— Final destruction was the best guess we had.
“Fantastic,” Bryce muttered.
However, Hunt asked, “If Avallen is
one of the most powerful tenuous places, why did the Asteri allow the Fae to
live here?”
— Black salt, in large quantities, serves as a repellent for them. They never
realized that their presence attracted us as much as it repelled them,” said Apollion
with satisfaction. — It has the same properties that made us immune to the slavery
of your black crowns.
Bryce tensed at that and looked at Hunt. But the partner asked, leaving aside
doubts about himself
same:
— Did Helena know that the asteri were repelled from this place?
Aidas nodded.
— Discovering this was what confirmed the decision to hide

Theia's power here.
Bryce tilted his head: —
But why did the mists part for Helena to pass through?
— Black salt only repels asteri; the mists repel all others. But
certain people, with certain gifts, can access power from tenuous
places… in any world. Wanderers of the world. Aidas gestured
gracefully to Bryce. - You're one of them.
Helena and Theia too. Your natural abilities allow you to move through
the mists.
Bryce brushed the invisible dirt off his
shoulders. “You can add that to Bryce's Magical Star Princess
crap list,” Hunt said, laughing. But then he frowned. — If the sword
and knife could open a portal to nowhere all this time, why didn't
Theia use them in the First Wars?
“Because she was scared,” Aidas said, his voice becoming tense.
suddenly. — For all of us.
“Okay,” Bryce said. — Final destruction.
“Yes,” said Aidas. Thanatos snorted dismissively, but Apollion
looked at Aidas with something akin to compassion. — Theia —
explained Aidas — created some theories about the union of the
blades, but never put them into practice. He feared that if he opened
a portal to nowhere, all of Midgard might be drawn in. It may be
possible that he could trap the Asteri in another world only to condemn
this world to follow them. So he decided it would be better to be
careful. And when she should have thrown caution out the window...
it was already too late for her. For us. It was safer and wiser to
separate the blades and their power.
“But Helena didn't believe that,” Bryce said.
— Helena believed the risk was worth it — said Aidas. — She
suffered a lot in the years after the First Wars, and she saw the
suffering of others too. I came to agree with her. She did not tell me
where she transferred Theia's power, but I know she made it
accessible to a descendant who might arise and find the light of Theia
that she kept. The person who could somehow
way, against all odds, unite the parts of Theia's power... and the two blades.
—What blinds an Oracle? Bryce whispered.

“The star of Theia,” Aidas replied softly. — I told you: The Oracle didn't see
that day... but I did. I saw you, so young and smart and brave, and the starlight
that Helena told me to wait for. That third of Theia's power, passed down
through Helena's bloodline.
Hunt
demanded, “But what should Bryce do?” Find that last bit of Theia's power,
use it on the blades, and open that portal to nowhere while praying we don't all
get stuck with the asteri too?
“That's it in short,” Aidas said, his eyes fixed on Bryce.

—But there is one thing that neither Theia nor Helena had anticipated: that you
would carry the Horn, reborn, in your body. Another way to open doors between
worlds.
— And what should she do with it? —Hunt grunted.
Aidas smiled.
— Opening the Northern Rift, obviously.
“So,” Bryce said slowly, as if leaving the words alone, “why not use
settle the Horn to open the portal to nowhere?”
— Because nobody knows what it is... where it is. The sword and
knife somehow point to his location. It is only possible to reach this
portal through them.
Hunt's head swam. Hell, his head hadn't stopped spinning in the
last ten minutes. But Bryce didn't accept what he heard.
—What if I never got the knife back? What if I never came to

Avallen? What if I didn't get the chance to do any of that, or I refused
to come here, or whatever?
Apollion and Thanatos fidgeted in their seats, bored or nervous,
but Aidas continued speaking.
— I don't know how Helena expected you to be able to retrieve
the knife from her home world. As for Avallen... Helena wanted me
to help you. But you hated the fae so much... you would never have
trusted me if I had pressured you to travel to their fortress.
“It's true,” Bryce murmured.

— My brothers and I had certain doubts about Helena’s plan. We continued to pin
our hopes on the reopening of the Northern Rift so that we could continue the fight
against the Asteri. If someone like you, a world wanderer, showed up and Avallen
wasn't yet accessible to claim Theia's power, you'd still need to find a way to... fuel
yourself, so to speak.
He finally looked at Hunt.

Hunt could barely breathe. Here, after all that waiting... the answers were here.
— You are the son of my two brothers only in the vaguest sense — said Aidas.
Something in Hunt's chest calmed, even as his stomach tightened.

turn around.
“At first, Thanatos refused to help,” he added.
Apollion, looking irritably at his brother.
“I didn't approve of the plan,” replied Thanatos, holding his hand tightly.
helmet. — And I still don't approve.
— My brother — said Aidas, nodding to Thanatos — has long excelled at making
things.
“Funny,” Bryce said, “I didn't think you were a craftsman.
Hunt looked at her in disbelief, but Aidas smiled before continuing to speak to him:
— During the First Wars, as you call them, Thanatos helped Apollion create new
types of demons to fight on our side. The kristallos, designed to hunt the Horn... so
we can find an unobstructed path to Midgard. The pastor. The death hunters. — A
nod to Hunt, as if he knew of the scar left by one of them on Hunt's back. — They
were some of my brother's creations.

— But the poison of the kristallos can nullify the magic. If you knew how to do
this, why didn't you use it against the Asteri in the war?
“We tried,” said Aidas. — It didn’t have the same effect on
their power.
— I'm sorry — Hunt interrupted — but are you insinuating that I

was made by these two idiots? Like some kind of pet? — He pointed
to Thanatos, then to Apollion.
— Not as a pet — replied Apollion in a dark voice. - A weapon.

He pointed at Bryce. — For her, when she finally appeared.
— But you didn't know the timelines would overlap —

countered Bryce, almost out of breath.
— No. They had no previous experiments — Apollion agreed. —
The expectation was that they would spread and multiply throughout
Midgard, but the Asteri found out about our plans and put an end to
them.
“Thunderbirds,” Bryce said, mouth agape. —
Were they also made by you?
— Yes, they were — Aidas replied naturally, we sent — and the
him through the cracks of the Northern Rift. But they were hunted to
near extinction generations ago. To bless an angel with their power,
a perfect soldier... it was a gift and a curse. The Asteri believed that,
through the artificial selection of malakim, they would finally obtain
an impeccable soldier to serve them. That it was their own brilliance
that brought someone like Hunt Athalar into the world.
“But you rebelled,” Apollion told Hunt with great pride. — You
were too valuable to kill, but they wanted to destroy you. He was
enslaved for this purpose.
Hunt could barely feel his body.
— Can we please go back in time a little? — interrupted Bryce. —
You created the thunderbirds to supplement my power... in case I
never got the sword and knife, and if I ever needed an extra charge
to open the Rift. But when they were hunted, you... created Hunt, and
then I was born...
— Athalar was already enslaved — said Aidas — but we were always

keeping an eye on him.
Apollion nodded to Hunt.
— Why do you think you are so skilled at hunting demons? It's in the
your blood... part of me is in your blood.
Nausea rose in Hunt's throat. The idea of owing something to the
Prince of the Moat...
— Just as he gave up some of his essence to others, so he provided
kristallos — said Thanatos —, me with something that I
could give you. The Fire of Hell.
- Hellfire? Bryce demanded.
“Lightning,” said Thanatos, waving an irritated hand.
— Capable of killing almost anything. Even an asteri.
— Is that how you killed Sirius? asked Bryce. - With
your… Hellfire?
“Yes,” said Apollion. Then he added to Hunt: — Your name came in
honor of that, whispered in your mother's ear when you were born.
Orion...master of Sirius.
“How funny,” Hunt replied. Then he asked: — Calm down... can my
lightning kill the asteri? — Hope blossomed, radiant and beautiful in his
chest.
“No,” said Apollion. — It’s… diluted from mine. It can harm them, but
not kill them. I believe your mother's angelic blood caused this power to
diminish.
Hope withered. And something darker took its place
when he asked:
— What was my mother's role in all this? - He could
accept some genetic interference, but...
— There was a scientist in the Asteri Archives — commented Aidas.
—An angel who was investigating the origins of thunderbirds, the
strangeness of their power. The project was named after an almost
forgotten storm god.
“Project Thurr,” Bryce added. — Was Danika also investigating? I
found mention of this after she
he died.
— I don't know — Aidas replied — but the angel was researching

thunderbirds at the behest of the Asteri, who feared their return. This
made him come to us. When we told him the truth, he offered to help.
At the time, Thanatos was finishing his
work. And with a willing male, only one female was needed to breed.
Hunt couldn't breathe. Bryce placed his hand on his knee.

— Your father only knew your mother for a short time —
commented Aidas. — And he knew that having a partner would help
lift her out of poverty. He had every intention of staying. To leave his
life behind and raise you in secret.
Hunt barely managed to ask,
“What happened?”
— The mystics told Rigelus about the connection his father had
with us. They didn't find out everything... nothing about you or your
mother. But he was talking to us. Rigelus took him back and he was
tortured and executed.
Hunt's heart skipped a beat.
“He didn't tell them anything,” Apollion said, with a gentle tone in
his voice. — He never mentioned his mother or her pregnancy. The
asteri never knew you were connected to him in any way.
— What... what was his name?

“Hyrieus,” replied Aidas. —He was a good male, Hunt Athalar.
Just like you.
Bryce squeezed his knee, his hand so warm—or was it strangely
cold?
— Okay, so Hunt was meant to be a backup battery for me…
— Can I do the same for Ruhn, then? — interrupted Hunt.

“No,” said Thanatos. — The prince's light, the affinity he has with
these tenuous places, is not strong enough. Not like hers.
Hunt grabbed Bryce's hand on his knee.

—Was it in my DNA that Bryce and I would be partners? That
was also designed?
— No — Aidas replied quickly — that was never the intention.
I think this was the work of higher powers. Whatever they are.
Looking at Bryce, Hunt saw nothing but love in his eyes.
eyes. He couldn't take it.
He was overcome with horror, as cold as frost. He had been raised

by those males to give in and to suffer, and what did that mean to him?
What the fuck did that make him?
“Okay,” Bryce said. — Hellfire and starfire: a potent combination. But
Helena left all that shit to help end this conflict. It seems like you guys
just want me to open a damn door so you can come in and save the day.
— Is it so bad — purred Thanatos — to let us do the dirty work?
Bryce scowled at him.

- This is my world. I want to fight for him.
— Then fight alongside us — challenged Thanatos.
A tense silence stretched between them. Hunt had no idea
how to start processing this insanity. But that cold in his veins... it was
pleasant. Numbing.
“It would be nice to have a little more time to prepare,” Bryce
murmured.
Aidas shook his head.
— You weren't ready before. What if you had told the wrong person?
You know what the asteri do to those who defy their divinity. I couldn't
risk it, put you at risk. I had to wait for you to find the answers on your
own. But didn't I tell you from the beginning to come to me? That I would
help? That's what Apollion was also trying to do, albeit in the wrong way:
prepare you two for everything... to fight the asteri.
"But how," Hunt asked, fighting that numbing, blissful cold in his
chest, "did you drive the asteri out of Hell the first time?"
— They had difficulty feeding on our magic — Thanatos explained,

his voice full of disgust. —And we discovered that our powers rivaled
theirs. They ran away before we could kill them.
Bryce swallowed hard as he examined Apollion.

— And did you really eat Sirius? Like, did you ingest it?
But it was Aidas who responded, with pride shining through.

his face.
—Apollion killed her with his Hellfire when she
attacked... He pulled the burning heart from his chest and ate it.
Hunt shuddered. But Bryce asked, “How
is that possible?”
"I am darkness itself," Apollion replied softly. — True darkness. The
kind that exists in the bowels of a black hole.
Hunt's bones shook. The male wasn't bragging.

"Then why can't you just...eat the rest of them?" asked Bryce.
“To do that, you have to be close,” Aidas replied. —And the Asteri
know my brother's talents well. They will avoid you at all costs. — The
image of the princes began to fail, as if they were on a faulty screen.
“We're running out of time,” said Thanatos. — The effect of

black salt is passing.
Bryce focused on Apollion.
— You have been telling me non-stop that your armies are ready to
go. — She pointed to the temple, the dead city beyond. — This place
looks pretty empty.
Apollion's eyes grew darker and darker.
— We allowed you to see only a fraction of Hell.
Our lands and our armies are elsewhere. They are ready.
—So if I open the Northern Rift with the Horn... —he said
Bryce.
Hunt cleared his throat in warning.
—Are you seven and your armies going to pass?
“The three of us,” Aidas added. — Our other four brothers are
involved in conflicts at the moment, helping other worlds.
“I didn't know you guys were, like, intergalactic saviors,” Bryce
teased.
Aidas' mouth curved upward. She could have sworn Apollion's did
too.
“But yes,” Aidas continued. —, opening the Northern Rift is the

The only way for our armies to fully and quickly enter Midgard.
— After what happened this spring — Hunt said to his partner — do

you believe they won't eat everyone?
“Those were our pets,” Aidas insisted, not our armies. And they —,
were severely punished. This time, they will toe the line and follow our
orders on the battlefield.
Bryce looked at Hunt, but he couldn't read the expression on her
face. The image failed again, the temple glowing and turning pale. Hunt
felt a tug in his stomach, wanting to take him back to the body he had left
in Avallen.
“I'll think about it,” Bryce replied.
— This isn't a game, girl — Thanatos replied.
Bryce gave the Ravine Prince a cold look.
— I'm tired of people using girl as an insult.
Thanatos opened his mouth to respond, but disappeared from sight.
suddenly. The connection had been severed.
Apollion said to Hunt:
— Don't waste the gifts you have received... from me, from my brother.
— His gaze shifted to the halo on Hunt's forehead. —No true child of Hell
can be caged.
Then he was gone too.
Son of Hell. Hunt's soul froze at the thought.
Only Aidas remained, seeming to cling to the connection
as he spoke to Bryce, his intense blue eyes on her face.
“If you find that last piece of Theia's power... if the cost of joining the
sword and the knife is too great, Bryce Quinlan, then don't do it. Choose
life. — He looked at Hunt. — Choose each other. I have lived with my
choice for millennia... loss never becomes easier to bear.
Bryce reached out his ghostly hand towards Aidas, but the
Gorge Prince had disappeared.
And all Hell with it.
When he opened his eyes, Bryce saw the fire. Burning, incandescent.
Hunt's lightning instantly surrounded her, but it was too late.
The Autumn King and Morven were in the chamber, they had
found them. Morven was shrouded in shadow, but her father glowed
with furious fire.
And in the center of the room, surrounded by a fire that not even
Tharion's water could extinguish, were her friends.
Bryce took a deep breath as he took in what he saw: Tharion,
Baxian, Sathia, Flynn, and Declan, all huddled together and
surrounded by fire. There was no sign of the evil spirits in the
shadows, but the murderous twins were outside the perimeter,
grinning like the idiots they were.
The Autumn King didn't bother surrounding her and Hunt with fire,
knowing that even Hunt's lightning couldn't stop him if he decided to
burn his prisoners to ashes. It was protection enough.
“Get up,” Morven ordered Bryce, shadows like whips in the Stag
King's hands. — We've already waited too long for you to come out
of this stupor.
Hunt hissed, and when Bryce looked at him, he noticed the blistered
welts on his partner's forearm. They were burning Hunt to try to wake
him up...
Bryce looked up at the king of Avallen, crowned by shadows.
To his father, standing beside him, his face cold despite the fire at
his fingertips.
— What did you do with the black salt? asked the Autumn King
softly. — Who did you see?
Bryce unsheathed Aster and the Truth-Revealer.
“Drop those weapons,” Morven demanded. — You've stained them
long enough.
The fire closed even tighter around his friends. Baxian
he swore as some black feathers were singed.
— Sorry — Bryce said to the kings, without lowering his weapons — but the
Blades don't work on rejected losers.
The Autumn King sneered:
— They have a somewhat questionable taste. But let's change that.
“Okay,” Bryce said thoughtfully. — I forgot that you killed the

last Starry Prince because I was jealous of him.
The Autumn King, as he had done the last time she accused him,
just laughed. Morven looked at him, as if he had a sudden doubt.
But the Autumn King said:

- Envy? From that shitty crybaby? He was unworthy of that sword,
just no more unworthy than you.
Bryce smiled victoriously.
— I'll take that as a compliment.
The Autumn King continued:
— I killed the boy because he wanted to end the lineage.
With everything the fae are. — The male pointed his chin at Bryce. —
Like you, no doubt.
She shrugged.
— I won't deny it.

— Ah, I know well what's in your heart, Bryce Quinlan — roared the
Autumn King. — I know what you would do if you were left to your own
devices.
—Would you watch television until you had enough?
His flames rose higher, bringing his friends closer.
close. There was little space left between their bodies and the fire.
— You are a threat to the fae. Your mother raised you to abhor us, you
are unworthy of bearing the royal name.
Bryce gave a hoarse, bitter laugh.
— Do you think it was my mother who made me turn against you?
That's my thing, from the moment you sent your goons after us to kill both
her and Randall. And every minute since then, you pathetic, loser. Do you
want to find whoever is responsible for why I think the fae are just worthless
pieces of shit? Just look in the mirror.
“Ignore this hysterical chatter,” Morven warned the Autumn King.
The Autumn King bared his teeth at her.

— You left this little bit of power you inherited and a title
go to your head.
Morven's shadows appeared behind him, ready to destroy
everything in your path.
— You'll wish for death when the asteri get their hands on you.
Bryce tightened his grip on the blades. They hummed, one attracting
the other. As if they were begging her for final unification. She ignored them
and instead asked the fae kings:
— Finally decided to hand us over?

“The worms you associate with, yes,” said the Autumn King, without a
hint of mercy. - But you…
— Okay, procreate — Bryce said, and didn't miss Hunt's incredulity
when he heard that. She stretched her arms, trying to keep the blades at
bay. — I assume Sathia, Flynn and Dec are also kept for breeding, but
that's any non-Fae's unlucky day. I'm sorry, guys.
“This is no joke,” Morven snapped.

“No, it's not,” Bryce replied, looking into his eyes. — And I'm tired of
laughing at you idiots.
Morven didn't back down.
— That little light show may have surprised us last time, but a spark
from you and your friends burns. Or should we demonstrate an alternative
method? — Morven gestured with a shadowed hand to the murderous twins.
Bryce checked to make sure his mental wall of starlight was intact, but
like the bullies they were, the twins targeted the person they assumed was
the weakest.
In the blink of an eye, Sathia was wide-eyed and watching the
confrontation. The next, she ripped the knife from Tharion's side.
And he held her against his own neck.

— Stop it — Tharion barked at the twins, who were laughing.
Sathia's hand shook as she pressed the dagger into her

neck with a little more force, drawing a trickle of blood.
“One move toward her, fish, and that knife will go in deep,” Morven
threatened.
“Leave her alone,” ordered Bryce, taking a step forward. A single step.
The sword and dagger in his hands seemed to advance as well, towards
the center of the room. She held them tighter.
The flames around his friends intensified. One of Baxian's feathers

caught fire and Dec barely managed to put out the flame before it spread.
— Release the blades and they will free her mind — countered the man.
Autumn King.
Bryce looked at the sword and knife, fighting the pull of
both weapons towards the center of the room.
Sathia was on the other side of the burning ring, pure, helpless terror
written all over her face, blood running down her neck.
One thought from Seamus or Duncan, one movement, and that knife would
slide into his throat.
Bryce threw the blades to the ground.

The dark metal clanked against the stone brutally as they stopped almost
at the top of the eight-pointed star.
Out of reach.
None of the kings advanced, however, as if they were afraid to catch them
—or even to walk up to them.
The murderous twins scowled as their fun was interrupted, but Sathia
lowered the knife. He still held it tightly, towards the twins. No one dared to
snatch it from his hand.
But Bryce was staring at the Autumn King as he
barked, "After all that talk about loving my mother and regretting hitting
her... is that what you do to your own daughter?" And with the daughter of one
of your fae friends?
— You stopped being my daughter the moment you
locked me in my own house.
“Oh,” said Bryce. — That hurt, right in the heart. — She knocked
on his chest for emphasis, and the star shone in response.
“She's biding her time,” the Autumn King said to Morven.
— That's what she did to Micah...
“Ah, yes,” said Bryce, taking a step forward, “when I finished his race. He
told? — he asked Morven. — It was supposed to be a big secret. — She
whispered, taking another step closer. — I cut that son of a bitch into little
pieces for what he did to Danika.
The killer twins looked surprised.

Bryce smiled at them, at Morven, at the Autumn King, and said, “But
what I did to Micah is nothing compared to what I'll do to you.
She held out her hands. Aster and the Truth-Revealer flew
even them, as they did in the fae world. Similar attracts.
But she wasn't making time for herself. I was waiting for Hunt.
As the sword and dagger flew towards her, Hunt's lightning, gathering in a
wave behind Bryce, rushed towards the assassin twins.
They only had one choice: release Sathia to intercept the two
lightning whips that would strike them or allow Hunt's lightning to
destroy them.
The twins chose to live. A shield of shadows crashed against the
lightning spears. That was all Bryce needed to see before he began to
act.
The Autumn King shouted in warning, but Bryce was already running in the
their direction. In his direction.
She didn't hold back as she exploded with starlight.
***
The entire cave shook as lightning and shadows collided.

Hunt gritted his teeth.
Tharion had managed to take the knife from Sathia before she
dropped it and cut her own foot, and now the female was crouched in
the circle of fire, her head in her hands.
The blast of starlight that shot from Bryce as she ran toward her
enemies threatened to collapse the cave. Her hair fluttering around her
head, her fingertips glowing with starfire.
Hunt was awestruck by so much condensed beauty and power.

But one of the killer twins laughed, a spiteful sound like a promise
that his partner would suffer. Six evil spirits burst from the shadows,
little more than shadows in their dark, tattered robes and outstretched,
scabbed hands.
What profanities did the twins commit to become
lords of these miserable beings?
Hunt glimpsed jaws filled with curved seven-pointed teeth.
centimeters that opened, looking at a distracted Bryce...
With a roar of fury, he sent half a dozen spears made of crackling
lightning toward the evil spirits and a seventh—for good luck—into the
shadows of the twins.
The lightning clashed with the archaic evil, and the evil spirits
exploded into scalding dust. But their lightning shattered against the
twins' wall of darkness. That the
He had stopped them from joining the fight against Bryce, but he hadn't
destroyed their shield.
“Go help her,” Baxian hissed over the crackling flame, but Hunt
shook his head, throwing more of his lightning at the twins, who were
now being pushed back with a slowly advancing wall of shadows.
Hunt dared to look at Sathia, who watched with her eyes

eyes wide open as Bryce lunged at the two fae kings.
Bryce flew like a shooting star through the dark cave.
“She doesn't need my help,” Hunt whispered.
***
The fire joined the starlight that met the shadows, and Bryce was
released into that world.
It would end there. At that moment. For once.
It wasn't a fight for the asteri or for Midgard. The fae had fallen to
leaders like those males, but their people could be so much more.
Bryce bore the weight of it with every blow of starfire toward the
Autumn King, driving him back, with every suffocating wave of
shadows Morven sent to push her toward the stream.
He hadn't ended up in that other world just for the sword and the
knife, or to find some magical ammunition to end the rot in his own
world. I could understand that now.
Urd had sent her there to understand, even though she had
witnessed so little of that world, that there were kind and brave fey.
She had had to betray Nesta and Azriel, had to deceive them... but
she knew that, deep down, they were good.
Midgard's fae could be better.
Ruhn was proof of that. Flynn and Dec were proof of that. Even
Sathia was proof of that in the short time Bryce had known her.
Bryce launched a string of starfire at Morven, digging deep into the
black salt floor. He dodged, escaping her reach with the skill of a
warrior.
It was time to put an end to all that.

The pettiness, machismo, and arrogance that have been the hallmarks of
Midgard's fae for generations. Pelias' legacy.
Everything would come to an end, that day.
Starlight shone around Bryce, the darkness of Silene's twilight power—
Theia—taking shape, transforming her into starfire.
If she could find the final third piece, the one that
would complete the star...
It was already complete. What she had—who she was… was enough. It
had always been enough to face these bastards, with or without power. With
this Estrelada shit or without it.
She was enough.
The assassin twins fought the ambush that Hunt had set against them.
From where he was, Bryce knew that Hunt couldn't see what they were doing
behind the wall of shadows, breaking through, blasting their lightning.
But from here... Bryce could see how they used that wall against Hunt.
They used it to shield themselves from his view as they turned toward Bryce.
Not even Hunt's lightning was fast enough as the murderous twins leaped
at her with swords drawn. Just as his shadowy claws scratched the wall of
Bryce's mind.
It would all be over. In that day.

Bryce exploded—in the twins' minds, in their bodies.
Dominating them with starfire. A part of her recoiled in horror as their massive
forms fell to the ground, burning smoking holes where their eyes had been. In
the place where their brains were. She had melted both of their minds.
Morven screamed in fury—and with something like fear.

She had done it. With only two-thirds of Theia's star, he had managed...
— Bryce! shouted Hunt, but it was too late.

Morven sent out a whip of shadows, hidden beneath a plume of Flame
from the Autumn King. The whip wrapped around Bryce's legs
and pulled her. She hit a rock, starlight flashing.

The impact crushed his skull, making the world spin. Or maybe it was the
shadows, dragging her closer to the wall of flames.
Bryce attacked the shadow collar with his hand wrapped in starfire.
He tore the darkness into strips. Bryce woke up in the blink of an eye, but not
quickly enough to dodge the flame punch that the Autumn King threw at his
stomach...
Bryce teleported, as quick and instinctive as a breath. Straight to the Autumn
King.
It would end at that moment.
The Autumn King staggered in shock as he grabbed his flaming fist with one
hand. As she held her ground, she dug her nails in hard.
His fire burned her skin, stunning her with pain, but she
she dug her nails in deeper and sent her starfire at him.
The father roared in agony, falling to his knees. Morven was so
stunned that he froze in place, cursing nonstop.
Bryce looked at what she had done with the Autumn King's fist.
What used to be your hand.

Only melted flesh and bones remained.
The Autumn King vomited in pain, bending over his knees, with
hand resting on his chest.
— Do you think these gifts make you special? — Morven raged, shaking off
his stupor. A nest of shadows stirred around him. — My son knew how to do all
this... and, in the end, he was nothing more than rubbish. Just like you.
Morven's shadows fell upon her like a flock of

crows.
Bryce blasted a wall of starlight, destroying the shadow birds, but more came,
from everywhere and nowhere, from below... The Autumn King stood up, his face
gray with agony, cradling what was left of his hand. charred.
“I'm going to teach you a new definition of pain,” he spat.

And there was no training that could have prepared Bryce, no time to
teleport to avoid the two swift attacks of the fae kings, matched in power.
She dodged her father's blast of fire, only for Morven's shadows to grab
her again. Hands of shadows that threw her against the stone with such
force that she lost her breath. The Aster and the Truth-Revealer flew from
his fingers.
A female screamed, and for a moment Bryce thought it might have been
Cthona, perhaps Luna herself.
But it was Sathia.
It was Sathia, who was back on her feet, but still not.
They were all the female fae that came before them.
Bryce blasted his light, destroying Morven's shadows. They dispersed
to reveal the Autumn King standing above her, a fiery sword in his
undamaged hand.
“I should have done this a long time ago,” cried the father, and
He plunged his fiery sword toward her exposed heart.
The Autumn King only got halfway there before light
exploded in his chest.
Hunt's lightning had…
No.
It wasn't Hunt's lightning that flashed across the Autumn King's ribs.
It was Aster. Wielded by Ruhn, standing behind him.

Ruhn, who plunged his sword into his father's cold heart.
***
Ruhn knew, in his gut, why he was on his way to those caves. He was a
Starry Prince and would right an old wrong.
With the Aster in his hand, piercing his father's heart.
Ruhn knew he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
The Autumn King gave a scream of shock, blood pouring from his mouth.
— I know all the definitions of pain thanks to you — Ruhn snapped and
pulled out his sword.
His father fell face first onto the stone floor.

Even Morven's shadows stopped as the Autumn King struggled to his feet.
Lidia, protecting Ruhn's back against the Deer King, said nothing.
No pity rose in Ruhn's heart as his father gurgled blood, which dripped onto
the stones. The Autumn King raised his head to meet Ruhn's gaze.
Betrayal and hatred burned in his face.

Ruhn spoke in his mind, in all minds: I lied when I told you what the Oracle
told me.
His father's eyes lit up with shock as he heard Ruhn's voice in his head, the
secret his son had kept all these years. Ruhn didn't care what Morven thought,
nor did he bother to look at the Stag King. Bryce and Athalar could deal with the
shadows, if Morven was dumb enough to attack.
Then Ruhn looked into his father's hateful face and spoke: The Oracle did not
tell me that I would be a just and impartial king. She told me that the royal line
would end with me.
He had the feeling that his friends were watching him with
wide-eyed. But she only had eyes for the pathetic male before her.
I thought that he was talking about his lineage.
Ruhn lifted the bloodied Aster. Flames boiled through the father's body,
outlining his powerful form. But Ruhn was no longer a scared boy, filling his body
with tattoos to hide his scars.
I was wrong. I think the Oracle was referring to all of them, Ruhn continued,
between minds. Male lineages. Starry Princes coming into this account—all you
damned, corrupt people who stole so much and never apologized for your actions.
The entire system. That shit about crowns and inheritance.
His father's mocking voice filled his mind. You're a spoiled, ungrateful brat
who never deserved to carry my crown...
And I don't even want to, Ruhn refuted, and closed the bridge that allowed the
father spoke between their minds. He was tired of listening to this male.
Blood dripped from the father's lips as his blood vanir
He tried to heal him, gather his strength so he could attack.
The line will end with me, you scoundrel, Ruhn said in the man's mind.
father, because I hand over my crown, my title, to the queen.
The father turned pale, the purest of fears written on his face. And out of
the corner of his eye, Ruhn saw Bryce's star begin to shine.
A serene peace blossomed within him. I always assumed the Oracle's

prophecy meant I would die. He let his core of starlight flicker across the
blade, a response to Bryce's summons. One last
turn.
But I will live, he told his father. And I'll live well without you.
Even Morven's shadows weren't fast enough as Ruhn swung the Aster
into the air again. And he cut his father's neck.
***
Bryce didn't know what to say as Ruhn cut off the Autumn King's head. While
his brother destroyed his skull with Aster before he even hit the stone.
She got up. He stopped next to Ruhn, who was stiff, still
holding the bloody sword, his father's head impaled on it.
The friends were still surrounded by fire, an impenetrable prison. As if the
Autumn King had imbued the flames with an energy outside of his body,
which would persist even after his death. A final punishment. Lidia ran, as if
she could find a way to put out the flames…
— Free them all — ordered Bryce to Morven, in a voice that even she
couldn't recognize — before we kill you too.
Morven bared his teeth. But despite the burning hatred in his eyes, he
knelt and raised his hands in submission.
- I surrender.
The fire disappeared. Morven blinked, as if surprised, but said nothing.
The friends got up at the same moment. Hunt put a hand on Sathia's
back to help her. So they all
They positioned themselves, as one, behind Bryce and Ruhn. And she saw,
for an instant she could see. A world no longer divided into Houses... but
united.
Bryce took a few steps to pick up the Truth Revealer who was standing
near the Autumn King's decapitated corpse. She didn't look at the body, at
the still oozing blood, when she spoke to Ruhn:
— Helena created the prophecy to explain what these weapons are

capable of doing, the power needed to face the asteri. But I think, in its own
way, the prophecy was also the hope she had for me. What could I do,
other than wield power.
Confusion filled Ruhn's bright blue eyes.
“Sword,” Bryce said, pointing to the Aster in his hand. She held up the
Truth-Revealer. - Do. — And then she pointed to her friends, the fae, the
angel, the merman and the shapeshifter behind them.
- People.
“She wasn't just talking about the fae,” Ruhn concluded.
quietly.
— Not necessarily — Bryce amended. — It can mean whatever we
want. — She gave a discreet smile. “Our people,” she said to Ruhn, to the
others. —The people of Midgard. United against the Asteri.
It had taken all this time, a trip through the stars and
under the ground... but there they were.
Morven spat on the floor.
— If you plan to fight the Asteri, you won't succeed. It doesn't matter if
you unify all the Houses. It will be wiped from the face of Midgard.
Bryce examined the kneeling king.

— I admire your confidence.
Morven's shadows began to bubble over his shoulders again. Waving in
your arms.
— I surrender now, girl, but the fae will never accept
a demi-fey as a queen, even if she is Starry.
Ruhn lunged at him, tilting Aster, but Bryce blocked him with one arm.
For a long moment, she looked at the
Morven's face. He really looked deep into the eyes of the male with the crown
of shadows.
He only found hatred inside.
“If we win,” Bryce said quietly. —, This new world will be
fair. Enough of hierarchies and nonsense. — Everything Hunt had fought for.
For what he and the Fallen had suffered. “But now,” Bryce continued, “I am
queen of the Valbaran fae. — She waved at the Autumn King's body cooling
on the floor, then smiled at Morven. —And from Avallen.
Morven hissed.
— You will only be Queen of Avallen over my ca...
He stopped at the smile on her face. And he turned pale.
“As I was saying,” Bryce said slowly, “for now, I am queen. I'm the judge,
the jury...
Bryce looked at Sathia, still distraught and wide-eyed from the twins'
attack, but unafraid. Unshaken, despite what the males in her life, what this
particular male, had tried to do to her.
Then Bryce looked at Morven and finished sweetly, “And I'm

your fucking executioner.”
The King of Avallen was still burning with hatred when Bryce drove the
Truth-Revealer into his heart.
***
It only took a few blows from the Truth Revealer to Morven's neck for Bryce
to decapitate him. And when she rose, it was the queen of the fae who stood
before Ruhn, wreathed in starlight, full before her enemies. From the love that
shone on Athalar's face as he beheld Bryce, Ruhn knew the angel saw the
same.
But it was Sathia who approached Bryce. Who knelt at his feet,
bowing his head and declaring: —
Hail Bryce, Queen of the Midgardian Fae.
— Whoa! — Bryce exclaimed, shuddering. - Let's start
com Avallen e Valbara e ver onde vamos parar.
But Flynn and Declan also knelt. And Ruhn turned to the
sister and knelt together, offering Aster with both hands.
“To correct an old error,” said Ruhn, “and in the name of
all the Starry Princes who came before me. This is yours.
No word has ever sounded so right. Nor did anything feel so right as
when Bryce took his Aster, a formal claim, and weighed it in his hands.
Ruhn watched his sister look between the Aster and the Revealer of
True, one blade shining with starlight, the other with darkness.
- And now? — she asked softly.
— Besides taking a moment to absorb the deaths of those two assholes?
said Ruhn. He nodded toward Morven and his father.
Bryce gave an awkward smile.

— At least we discovered some things.
- Oh yes? —The others were all gathered around them now, listening.
“It turns out,” Athalar said with what Ruhn could have sworn was forced
casualness, “Theia made a strange stop with her star magic, dividing it
between herself and her daughters. In short, Bryce has two of these parts,
but Helena used the ley line nexus and Avallen's natural magic to hide the
third part somewhere in Avallen. If Bryce can find her, the sword and knife
will be able to open a portal to nowhere, and we can trap the asteri inside.
Bryce glanced at Hunt, as if to say there was much more to it than that,
but she said, “So… new mission: find
the power Helena hid.”
Aidas stated that Helena used Midgard's ley lines to hide him in these caves
after Pelias' death. — She sighed, examining their faces. — Any idea where
it might be?
Ruhn blinked at her.
“Yes,” he said, his voice hoarse. — I think I know. - And even?
— Athalar asked, frowning.
“No need to be so shocked,” Ruhn grumbled.
Lidia approached them and added:
—After Pelias died, you say?

— Yes. It's complicated...
— I think it’s part of the land — Lidia interrupted. —In Avallen's very bones.
Bryce and Athalar raised their eyebrows, but Ruhn looked at Lidia and
nodded.
—That explains a lot.
Bryce interrupted: —
How…?
“Well, Avallen was once part of an archipelago, but now it's just an island,”
Ruhn said. — You said Helena relied on Avallen's ley lines to contain her
mother's star... to hide it here, right? I think that in doing so, she drained all
the magic of the land through the ley lines and redirected it to trap Theia's
power. Made the earth wither. Just as you had said that Silene's lands had
withered around the Prison while she held her share of power.
Bryce reflected:
— Silene had the Horn, but Helena had to use the ley lines.
However, both strategies had a disastrous effect on the land itself. — She
looked at the blades again.
— How do you propose to take away the magic? — Lidia challenged. - No
We have no idea how to access it.
No one answered. And, fuck, Morven and the Autumn King were lying
there, dead and decapitated, and...
—Does anyone have any bright ideas? — asked Tharion in
amidst the tense silence.
Ruhn stifled a laugh, but Bryce slowly turned to the merman, as if surprised.
“Brilliant,” she murmured. Then he looked at Athalar, examining his face.

“Light it up,” he whispered. As if it were the answer to everything.
***
Bright.
Light.
Lit up.
The world seemed to stop, as if Urd herself had slowed down time as
each thought reached Bryce.
She looked at the walls. To the river of starlight that Helena had depicted
at the bottom of each carving.
A few hours before, she had thought that this was an artistic representation
of the Starry bloodlines.
But Silene had portrayed the evil that ran beneath the Prison in her
sculptures, unwittingly warning about Vesperus...
Perhaps Helena had also left a clue.
One last challenge.
Bryce looked at the eight-pointed star in the center of the room. To the
two strange slits at the ends. One small, one bigger.
She looked at the weapons in her hands: a small dagger and a large
sword. They would fit neatly into the slots in the floor, like keys in a lock.
Keys to unlocking the power stored below. The last bit of power she
needed to open the portal to nowhere.
Power that, in its origins, belonged to the worst type of fey, but that didn't
necessarily need to be that way. It could belong to anyone. It could be Bryce's.
To light this world.

—Bryce? — Hunt called, with one hand on her back.
Bryce composed himself, taking a deep breath. Pieces of debris and
Rocks from his battle with the fae kings began to rise.
She walked over to the eight-pointed star on the floor, identical to the one
on her chest. Debris and rocks swirled in a whirlwind around her.
Bryce took a deep breath, bracing herself as she whispered,

“I'm ready.”
- For what? Hunt demanded, but Bryce ignored him.
Letting out a breath, she plunged her weapons into the cracks of the star of
eight points. The little one for the knife. The big one for the sword.
And like a key turning in a lock, they released what was beneath.
Light exploded through the blades into Bryce's hands, arms, and heart. She
could hear it under her feet, in the rocks. The song beneath the earth. Silent,
ancient, forgotten, but still there.
She heard how Avallen gave up her joy, the radiant green lands, the skies
and the flowers so that she could hold the power that had been granted and
that had been waiting, all this time, for someone to release it, to set it free.
— Bryce! — Hunt shouted, and she looked into her partner's eyes.
Nothing the Princes of Hell said about him served to frighten her. They
hadn't done Hunt's soul. It was all hers, just as her soul also belonged to him.
Helena had bound the soul of this land in magical chains. No

more. Bryce would not allow the fae to claim anything more.
“You are free,” Bryce whispered to Avallen, to the land and the magic so
pure and inherent beneath. - Be free.
And she went.
Light burst from the star and the caves shook again. They rolled, shook
and shook...
The walls were giving way and she had the feeling that Hunt had lunged
at her, but fallen to his knees as the floor began to disappear. Stones
crumbled around them, burying the
Pelias' sarcophagus, the corpses of the two recently-dead kings, and all their
other hateful ancestors. Turning them into dust. Sunlight broke out, the earth
itself splitting apart as Bryce and the others were pushed upwards.
Sunshine instead of gray skies.

They appeared in the hills, less than a mile from the castle and the royal
city. It was as if the caves were receding towards there.
And from the rocky ground beneath them, spreading from the star to Bryce's
feet, flowers and grass bloomed. The river from the caves burst forth, winding
through the newly formed hill.
Sathia and Flynn laughed, kneeling down and placing their fingers in the
grass. The magic of the earth in his veins increased as an oak tree burst from
Flynn's hands, higher and higher, and from Sathia's hands fell branches of
strawberries and blackberries, tangles of raspberries and blueberry bushes...
— Holy gods — said Tharion, and pointed to the sea.

It was no longer gray and busy, but a light, vibrant turquoise.
Rising from the water, just as they had seen on the map Declan had found,
were islands, large and small, lush and green, full of life.
Forests appeared on the island where they were, accompanied by mountains

and rivers.
So much life, so much magic, finally freed from the control of the Vanir.
A place not just for the fae, but for everyone. All of them.
Bryce could feel the earth's joy at being seen, at being freed.
She looked at Ruhn and her brother's face lit up with admiration. As if their
father wasn't underground, lost forever in the darkness, his bones to be eaten
by worms.
There was only wonder and freedom lighting up Ruhn's face.
Painless. The fear was gone.
Bryce hadn't realized he was crying. She only realized it when Ruhn wrapped
her in his arms while they both sobbed.
The friends gave space to the two, aware that this was not just joy — it was
tempered by the sadness of all the years of pain and the hope of the years to
come.
The world could very well end soon, Bryce knew, and they could
all die, but the paradise that blossomed around them, this awakened
land, was proof of what life had been like before the Asteri, before the
Fae and the Vanir. .
It was proof of what could come later.
Ruhn pulled away, placing Bryce's face in his hands.
Tears were streaming down his face. Bryce couldn't stop crying—
crying and laughing—with everything that flowed from his heart.
The brother kissed her forehead and said:
— Long live the queen.
The land had awakened and the fae of Avallen were terrified.
Hunt tried not to feel proud when he saw the castle destroyed.
Its occupants and the city were spared, but vineyards and trees
invaded Morven's castle and turned it into rubble.
“One last fuck you from the earth,” Bryce muttered to Hunt as the two
reached a hill overlooking the ruins. At the other end, a group of fae stood
in apprehensive silence around the demolished building.
Beside him, Bryce vibrated with power—of Helena and her cursed
lineage, but also of whatever lingering wound in the soul had been healed
the moment Ruhn cut off his father's head.
Hunt slipped an arm around his partner's waist, watching the fae who
gaped at the ruins on the Isle of Avallen—and the new islands that
surrounded it.
Bryce looked at him.
- Are you well?
He was silent for a long moment, looking at the landscape.
- No.
She moved closer to him.
He swallowed hard.
— I'm a weird demonic test tube baby.
“That may have been your origin, Hunt,” she said, with a gentle
smile, “but it doesn't represent who you are... who you are.
returned.
He looked at her.
— You seemed to not like who I became.
She sighed.
— Hunt, I understand... everything you're feeling. In truth.
But I can't do this without you. You all.
His heart sank when he looked at her.
- I know. And I'm trying. It's just... — He struggled to find the words.
— My worst nightmare would be to see you in the hands of the asteri.
See you die.
— And to avoid this fate, is it worth letting them rule forever?
The question had a neutral tone, the result of the most sincere
curiosity.
— Part of me thinks so. A very, very loud part of me,” he admitted.
— But another part says we need to do whatever it takes to end this.
So that future generations, future partners... don't have to make the
same choices, nor suffer the same fate as us.
He would try to leave his fear behind. For her, for Midgard.
“I know,” she said gently. — If you need to talk, if you need someone
to listen... I'm here.
He saw on her face a love so pure it made his heart ache. Some of
that darkness and pain remained, yes, but he would try to ignore it. And
he knew she would give him all the space he needed to do that.
— Thank you, Quinlan.

She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. A sweet, gentle touch of his
lips warmed the last numb fragments of his soul.
Then she surveyed the ruins once more, taking his hand as they
began their descent toward their friends gathered at the top.
foot of the hill.

— I got the last bit of Theia's power, but what now?
How do we face the asteri? How can we get close enough to them to use the
knife and sword and throw them through that portal?
He kissed her forehead.
— Rest for today. For now, enjoy this achievement.
She laughed.
— That doesn't seem like an Umbra Mortis strategy.

— I can't tell if that's an insult or not. — He poked her with a wing. — We
have some other urgent things to take care of first, Bryce.
— Yes, I know — she said as they stopped among their friends. She
addressed everyone. —Since this place can resist the asteri, we need to
bring as many people as possible. Without alerting the imperial forces.
“The Deep Freighter could help,” Flynn suggested.

Tharion grimaced but did not object.
Lidia asked: —
But how would they penetrate the mists?
Bryce raised his hand, and in the distance, the mists parted—and
then they closed.
— Didn't you know? I'm kind of an exquisite world wanderer who can do
these things easily.
Besides... — She gave a crooked smile. — I am now the Queen of Avallen.
Controlling mist is one of the benefits of this work.
“Of course,” Hunt said, rolling his eyes and earning a
elbow in the ribs.
But Ruhn warned:
— The fae won't like sharing.
Bryce pointed to the ruins, the damage she had caused,
although without knowing.
— They have no choice.
Ruhn snorted.
— Long live the queen indeed.
Declan shouted from the top of the hill and everyone turned to him.
“Whatever you did with those mists, Bryce,” Declan shouted, “my cell
phone has reception!” — He raised the device in celebration and then lowered
his head to read the messages he received.
“Small victories,” Bryce said. Lidia and Tharion laughed.

The Doe stopped laughing when she looked at Tharion, as if attracted by
the merman's laughter.
— You could hide here, you know. The Ocean Queen cannot pass
through the mist unless Bryce allows it.
“Hide me,” Tharion said, as if the word had a horrible taste.
— The alternative is to beg her not to kill you — Lidia replied.

— and then do whatever she says for the rest of your life.
— It's no different from the Queen of the River — commented Tharion. Sathia
He watched him with attention and curiosity. The merman shrugged and
asked Lidia bluntly: — How do you deal with this? Being at her mercy?
Lidia's mouth twitched and everyone pretended they weren't

listening to every word when she finally replied:
— I had no other choice. — She looked at Ruhn with radiant eyes. —But
I won't go anymore.
Ruhn was startled and looked at her.
- How it is?
Lidia said to him and to everyone:
— If we survive the asteri, I won't go back.
Hunt had seen enough of the Ocean Queen to know
how it would end.
Bryce said, with all the care in the world, “But
your kids...
“If we survive, my enemies will be dead,” Lidia said, lifting her chin with
majestic grace. — And she certainly won't need my services anymore. — She
nodded at Tharion. — I'm not going back, and neither should you. The era of
arbitrary rulers is over. — She pointed to the ruins. — This is the first step.
A shiver ran down Hunt's spine at the certainty of

your words. Bryce opened his mouth as if he was going to say something.
But Baxian turned toward Declan, as if he had sensed
something strange. A second later, Declan's head snapped up.
An ominous silence came over Hunt. Of all of them.
No one said anything as Declan approached. Swallowing hard. And
when he looked at Ruhn, at Bryce, tears glistened in his eyes.
— The Asteri attacked.

Bryce grabbed Hunt's arm, as if that would stop her from falling.
— Speak — said Lidia, pushing them to get to Declan.

He looked at the Doe and then at Bryce.
— The Asteri organized an attack, led by Pollux and Mordoc, on all
Ophion bases. They erased all bases from the map.
“Shit,” Hunt swore.

But Declan was shaking his head.
— They exterminated everyone in the camps too.
Hunt's knees wobbled.
When Declan looked at Bryce, Hunt instantly knew he was going to say
something horrible. I wish I could undo that, whatever it was...
— And they sent the Asterian Guard to the Meadows of Asphodel.

They... they said it was a hotbed of rebel activity.
Bryce shook his head, backing away.
Declan's voice cracked as he said, “They
launched ten sulfur missiles into the Meadows. In all residents.
ÿÿÿÿÿ ÿÿÿ
ÿ ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ
Ithan stood on the deck of a fishing boat that had seen better decades, with Hypaxia at his
side. Apparently, Jesiba Roga didn't think the two needed to travel in style.
At least the crew of shark shifters didn't ask questions. And they remained calm as they
turned off the engine and the boat rocked in the gray waves of the Haldren, right in front of the
wall of impenetrable, towering mist.
Ithan nodded at the broken brooch on Hypaxia's cloak.
— Any chance your broom still works? We could

fly in it.
“No,” replied Hypaxia. —And besides, only Morven can let us through.
Ithan reached out toward the mist, weaving it between his fingers.
— So how are we going to contact him? hitting the

mist? Sending a flare?
The tone of voice was happier than he actually was. Somewhere beyond those mists
was Sofie's body. Apparently, Morven had told Jesiba that they could keep him—their
deceased son.
had sent it there and the fae king hadn't yet thrown it in the trash.
A stroke of luck sent by Urd herself. Jesiba had promised that Morven would
not touch the body, that she would be happy to deliver it into their hands.
That is, if they could get through the barrier. Hypaxia raised the
light brown hand to the mists, as if testing them.
- They are…
As if in response, the curtain of mist shuddered and parted.
Sunlight flooded the room. The gray seas have become
turquoise. The wind turned into a gentle, gentle breeze. There was a paradise
beyond.
Even the rude shark shifters gasped in shock.
Ithan looked at Hypaxia, also wide-eyed.
- What is the problem?
Hypaxia slowly shook her head.
—This is not the Avallen I visited before.
- What does that mean? — Your instinct went into overdrive, your
wolf ready to attack.
Hypaxia motioned for the captain to begin sailing through the scattered
mists toward the lush, inviting land. More beautiful than the Coronais Islands.
The ancient witch-queen said almost in
a whisper:
— Something very big happened here.

Ethan sighed.
— Please tell me that was a big, good change?
The silence that followed didn't help him calm down.
***
Hunt found Bryce sitting atop the ruins of what had once been a tower, with
tangles of vines and roses blooming all around her. A beautiful and surreal
place for the queen of the fae to rest.
The earth seemed to know her, tiny flowers bloomed nestled around her
body, some even wrapped around the long strands of her hair.
However, when Hunt sat down next to her, he noticed her blank
expression. Devastated.
Dried tears had left salty marks on her face. The whiskey-colored
eyes, which were usually so full of life and fire, were empty. Empties
like he hadn't seen since the time he found her in Lethe, drinking to
dispel the pain of Danika's death, the wound reopened when he
realized that his father had withheld vital information that would have
helped the investigation.
Hunt sat beside her on a jagged piece of rock and wrapped a
wing around her. From up there, you could see the scattering of
islands amid the vibrant teal of the ocean. Avallen had woken up and
transformed into a paradise, and part of him longed to leap into the
sky and explore every inch of it, but…
“All that new power from Theia,” Bryce said hoarsely, “and it didn't
do anything. There was no time to help anyone… save anyone.
Hunt kissed her temple and promised,

“We'll make it worth it, Bryce.
— I'm sorry — she said — for being such an asshole about what
you were feeling.
“Bryce,” he began, trying to find the right words.
— I'm sorry for telling you to get over all this — she added — but...
His lips pressed together into a thin line, as if guarding

a sob that wanted to break free.
— What happened — he said, his voice hoarse — is not your
fault. It's no one's fault except the asteri. You were right when you
said that.
She continued talking, as if she hadn't heard a word Hunt said:
— Fury and
June are getting into a helicopter with my parents, Emile...
Cooper, that is, and Syrinx — A look at where she had discarded her
cell phone in the flowers By her side. — The Asteri didn't find them
before the attack, but I want everyone here, safe.
“Good,” Hunt said.
Everyone had spent the last hour desperately calling family and
friends. Hunt debated for a long time whether he should risk calling
Isaiah and Naomi, but ended up not doing so, so as not to create
problems if their cell phones were tapped. It was part of the reason
he'd gone looking for Bryce, even though he knew she'd come here
to be alone.
With Morven Castle in ruins, the others were looking for
accommodation for the night. From Ruhn's grim face, it looked like
the fae weren't being welcoming. Bad luck for them, Hunt wanted to
say, because they were about to receive a huge influx of people.
“We could stay here,” Bryce murmured, and Hunt knew she would
have only said that to him. — We could gather all our friends and
family, anyone who can cross the Haldren, and… stay here, protected.
Forever. It was basically what the Queen of the Ocean asked for. And
I wouldn't be any better than my ancestors… by hiding. But, people
would be safe.
Some people on Midgard, at least.
While the majority would remain at the mercy of the asteri.
Hunt leaned over to look at her face. — Is
that what you want to do?
“No,” Bryce replied, and eyes lifted to the island-dotted horizon.
To the wall of mist beyond. — I mean, anyone who can get here, any
refugee, will be allowed to enter. I wished the mists would do that.
Hunt would have made a joke about Super Powerful Star Queen
with Special Magic, but he kept his mouth shut. He let her continue
talking.
“But we…” The dark look on Bryce's face made Hunt tighten his
grip around her. — We can't hide here forever.
"No. We can't," he agreed, and allowed her to

realized he was serious. That he would fight until the end.
She laid her head on his shoulder.
— I can't even think about what they did. With Ophion and the
fields… with the Meadows…” Her voice trailed off.
He couldn't process it either. So many innocent people had died.

So many children.
“We have an obligation,” Bryce said, and raised his head. — With
these people. With Midgard. And with all the other worlds too. We
have an obligation to put an end to this.
It was the face of his beloved Bryce that stared back at him, but
also that of a queen. His lightning stirred in response. It didn't matter
that he had been made by the sons of bitches Apollion and Thanatos,
that the two of them had manufactured his power. If the lightning
could help her, if he could save Midgard from the asteri… that was
all that mattered.
Bryce added, “I
have an obligation to end this.
She looked out at the archipelago, which lay calmly, and for a
moment, Hunt could see what it would be like to have a life there,
with children and friends. A life they could build in that untouched
place.
That life unfolded before his eyes, so close that Hunt could almost
touch it.
Bryce said, as if thinking the same thing, “I
think Urd needed me to come here.
— To know that it could be a refuge?
She shook her head.
— I wondered why the mists kept the asteri out, how we could
use them against them. I thought I'd come here and find answers,
maybe a secret weapon... like some important device to repel asteri.
She finally slid her exhausted gaze to Hunt.

— But what keeps the asteri away is the large amount of black
salt, not the mists. There's no way to replicate that. I think Urd wanted
me to see that a society could thrive here. That I could stay safe
here, with everyone I love.
Bryce's mouth trembled, but she pressed it into a thin line.
— I think Urd wanted me to see and learn — she continued —
and decide whether to stay or abandon that security to fight.
Urd wanted to tempt me.
“Maybe it was a gift,” Hunt suggested. —Not a test or challenge, Bryce,

but a gift. — When she raised her eyebrows, he explained: — Urd allowed the
people you love to remain safe here while you finished off some asteri.
There was a lot of sadness in her smile.

— To know that they will be protected… even if we fail the mission.
He didn't try to reassure her and tell her they would make it. Instead, he
promised: —
We're in this together. You and I. Let's finish this together. — He tucked a
strand of her hair behind her delicate, pointed ear. — I'm by your side.
Complete. You and I will put an end to this.
She lifted her head and Hunt could have sworn a crown of stars glittered
around her head.
— I want to wipe them from this world — she announced, and although
her voice sounded calm, there was nothing but the purest anger in what she
said.
— I'll get the dustpan and broom — he joked, smiling at her.
Bryce looked at him, all majestic fury and grace... and laughed. The first
moment of normality between the two, happy and beautiful. He would fight for
it too. Until the end.
Tendrils of the purple flowers that used to bloom at night appeared around
them in response, despite being in broad daylight. Was it always like this? He
swore that in the night garden, before they were attacked by the kristallos
months before, the flowers had bloomed for her too. Had they felt this power,
the twilight-born inheritance in their veins?
“That's incredible,” he said, nodding toward the island that seemed to

respond to her every emotion.
— I think it's what the Prison, the island on the Fae homeworld, once was.
When Theia ruled, I mean, before Silene ruined everything. Maybe they are
linked in some way because they are tenuous places and they got mixed up a
little. Maybe in that other world… maybe I woke up the land around the Prison
too.
Hunt raised his eyebrows.

— I think there's only one way to find out.
She laughed.
— I don't think they'll ever let me go back to that world.

— Do you think there is a possibility of recruiting them to
fight alongside us?
— No. I mean, I don't know what they would say, but... I wouldn't ask them
to do that. None of them.
— I take back what I said before. We cannot leave planning aside, we
need to start thinking about a strategy now. — He hated having to put that
burden on Bryce's shoulders, but they needed to take action. She was right,
they couldn't hide there. — The Asteri certainly expect retaliation.
Rigelus must be expecting us to try to gather an army to attack, but that

wouldn't work. We would always be at a disadvantage and outnumbered. —
He held her hand. — I… Bryce, I've already lost an army.
“I know,” she replied.

But Hunt pressed: —
And besides, we're talking about six asteri. If it was just to fight Rigelus,
maybe… but all six? Do we have to separate them?
Pick them up one by one?
— No, because that way the others would have time to prepare.
We have to attack them all at once… together.
He thought about it.
— It's time to let Hell in, right?
The calm breeze ruffled her hair as she nodded.
— And what do we have to do, then? he asked.
The star on her chest was shining.
— Let's go to Nena. We have to open the Northern Rift.
- Holy crap. All good. Ignoring the enormity of it all and assuming that
everything will work out, what next? Do we enter the palace and start fighting?
She looked back at the islands and the sparkling sea.

That majestic expression took over her face, and he knew he was getting
a glimpse of the leader Bryce would become if he
managed to overcome all that.

—What did Rigelus always tell us? asked Bryce.
— That we suck?
She laughed.
— He did everything he could to offer you freedom — she said, pointing to

where his mark was on her wrist — to convince me not to say that I killed
Micah. And convince you not to say that you killed Sandriel.
He tilted his head.

— Do you want to make this public?
— I think Rigelus and the Asteri are nervous about the world finding out
what we did. That their precious archangels could be killed. On top of that, by
two nobodys.
It was Hunt's turn to laugh.
— We're not really nobodies. — Yes,
but even so, I will show Midgard that even archangels can be killed.
— Okay, that's... that's incredible — Hunt said, his head racing with
thoughts. Rigelus would go crazy. —But what are we going to achieve with
this?
— They're going to be so busy with the media that they're going to forget
about us for a while — explained Bryce, with a cruel smile, which was a bit
reminiscent of his father's, who lay dead under the rubble. — It will be a greater
distraction than any army in Hell.
“I think it's a good idea,” Hunt said, reflecting. — I really do. But how will
you prove it? Everyone would have to take his word for it, and the Asteri would
immediately deny it. — That's why I need to talk to
Jesiba.
- Oh yes?
She stood up and held out her hand to help him up.
— Because she has the video of what I did with Micah.
***
On
Ithan was in front of a true paradise on Midgard. Crystal clear waters,

lush vegetation, streams and waterfalls flowing into the sea, fine
sand, birds singing...
He remained on alert, however, as the boat stopped in a cove,
close enough to shore for him and Hypaxia to jump out and walk a
few meters to shore.
—Which way? — he asked the former queen, examining the
dense foliage that bordered the beach and the hills that rose up. —
Jesiba said the castle was a few kilometers inland, but I didn't see
anything as we sailed...
Wings flapped above, and Ithan moved on instinct, his robust
wolf body bumping into Hypaxia who was behind him as he growled
at the sky.
Two scents hit him an instant later.
Ithan was completely unresponsive when he saw Hunt Athalar
land on the sand, with Bryce in his arms.
Back in humanoid form, Ithan sat on the grass in front of Bryce and Hunt,
unable to speak. Hypaxia, sitting next to him, gave Ithan space to think.
Behind Bryce were Ruhn, Flynn, Dec, and Tharion—and Lidia and Baxian.
Accompanied by a female who, from what they said, was Tharion's wife and
Flynn's sister.
Something big had happened. Ithan knew that. But they didn't give any
further explanation and waited for him to explain what he was doing there.
What had happened.
The tightness in his throat was almost unbearable.
— I… — Everyone looked at him waiting for an answer. —
I need Sofie Renast's body.
“Good,” said Hunt, whistling to hear. —, it wasn't what I expected
Ithan looked up pleadingly at Umbra Mortis.

—Jesiba said King Morven has the body…
“He had the body,” Ruhn added, crossing his arms. His tattoos looked like
they had been run through a paper shredder.
Ithan had noticed as soon as he saw his friends, hugging them so tightly that
they complained. Ruhn added, “Now, the body belongs to Bryce, technically.
Ithan shook his head, not understanding.

Hunt spoke slowly:
— Morven is dead and Bryce is the Queen of Avallen.
Ithan just winked at Bryce, who was watching him. Carefully.
As if she knew something had…
“The Meadows,” he said suddenly.
Had they heard what happened? Does…
“We already know,” said Flynn.
— Those damned ones — muttered Tharion.
Bryce asked Ithan: — How
bad is the damage?
Ithan couldn't count the bodies, so small, so many...
— As big as you imagine — Hypaxia replied with perhaps even bigger.
severity —,
Silence hung heavy over the group.
— Whatever stopped you from helping the city — said Lidia, keeping an
eye on her sister must be very
—,important. Why do they need Sofie's body?
Once again, everyone looked at him, and he couldn't contain his

sadness as he said:
— Because I screwed up everything.
***
He told the whole story. How he had found an alternative heir to the Fendyr
bloodline and how he had freed her from the Astronomer… only to kill her
later.
None of this was news to Tharion, Flynn and Dec. But judging by the
way Bryce and Ruhn looked at the trio... Apparently, they had forgotten to
mention this information during the chaos of the previous days.
Ithan couldn't understand how they had forgotten to tell him something
that was literally destroying his life, but he didn't press the issue. He took
longer on the part of the story that was new to everyone: how Hypaxia had
tried to resurrect Sigrid. And how, now, the Fendyr heiress was a reaper.
When he finished speaking, everyone looked at him with wide eyes.

The most shocked was Bryce, who hadn't said anything as he talked
about finding an alternative to Sabine, someone Danika might have
approved of.
Ithan terminou:
—So, if Sofie's body is intact...
“No,” Bryce said softly.
Ithan felt a tightness in his chest as he looked into her eyes.
“Morven's castle has collapsed,” Bryce said sadly. — If it's intact,
Sofie's body is under tons of rubble.
Ithan brought his hands to his face and took a deep breath.
Flynn put a comforting arm around his shoulders, squeezing.
— Maybe there is another way…

“We needed a thunderbird,” Ithan said, his voice muffled by his hands.
There was no way to fix that. How to undo.
He had caused all that with an innocent wolf, with his people...
“Look,” Bryce said, and the gentleness in her tone almost killed him.
She took a long sigh. —It would have been amazing to find an alternative
Fendyr heiress. But…
Ithan took his hands away from his face.
- But what?
Hunt's eyes lit up when he heard Ithan's growl. But
Bryce didn't back down as
he said, “We have bigger problems now. And time is not on our side.
— I killed her — Ithan said with a choked voice. — I fucking killed her…
But Athalar said to Hypaxia:

— I think Rigelus collected some of my lightning… for a similar
purpose. — Bryce turned around, as if it was news to her. — Are you sure
that wouldn't help with Sigrid?
— It might be worth trying — admitted Hypaxia — but I don't have
none of the supplies needed to contain his kind of power.
Ruhn raised his head.
— Like a bunch of crystals?

Everyone turned to the prince, but he looked at Lidia. The Doe
explained: —
We found a cache full of them in the archives.
Ruhn added:
—Rigelus used one to take Athalar's power in the
dungeons. Would it work for you too?
Hypaxia nodded slowly and said to Hunt, “I
wouldn't need much.
Bryce looked at the others. Ruhn understood what she meant and
gestured to his friends.
- Let's go. Let's get the crystals from the archives. Hope
also hasn't collapsed.
Flynn, Dec, Lidia, Baxian, and Tharion—with his wife at their side—
walked down the hill with Ruhn. Only Tharion looked back, once, with
eyes full of compassion. As if the merman could understand the feeling
of screwing everything up in such a colossal way. To regret.
But Bryce grabbed Ithan's hand, bringing his attention back to her.
— What's done is done, Ithan.

—Jesiba said the same thing — he commented, taciturn.
“And she's right,” Bryce warned. Beside him, Athalar nodded.
But Bryce waved his hand at Hypaxia. — The whole fucking world is
changing so fast, we are all changing faster than we can process. By
Cthona, Hypaxia isn't even queen anymore. Have any of you stopped to
think about this?
— Ithan felt guilt like a punch. He had been so focused on his own
problems that he hadn't thought about talking to the witch. But Hypaxia's
face remained serious, determined. Bryce continued, “So look, you killed
Sigrid, and she's a reaper, and I think it's... pretty admirable that you're
trying to resurrect her...
“Don't be condescending,” he growled, and Athalar looked back
warningly.
"I'm not," Bryce said. She was the Queen of Avallen, and Ithan could
see it in her eyes: the leader shining there. - Part of
The reason I love you is because you don't give up until you do the thing
certain.
“Trying to do the right thing led to my disaster with Sigrid,” he
lamented, shaking his head in disgust.
“Maybe,” Bryce said, and looked at Hypaxia. —But you two… I need
your help. I have to believe that Urd sent you here.
- For what? asked Hypaxia, tilting her head.

Bryce and Hunt exchanged glances. The angel gestured to his
partner, as if to say: It's your story.
— I, uh... — said Bryce, pulling up some blades of grass —
I have many things to tell.
***
— You weren't kidding when you said you had a lot to tell — Ithan
commented, surprised, when Bryce finished.
— But where do we get into this story? — asked Hypaxia.
— If you're thinking about forming an army to help Hell, I have no
influence over the witches, and Ithan wouldn't be able to rally the
wolves...
—No Midgard army. We don't have time for this anyway,” Bryce said.
Hypaxia pulled out a tightly coiled curl.

- What then?
Bryce's eyes seemed to shine.
— I need you to make an antidote for the asteri parasite.
Hypaxia blinked slowly. That part of Bryce's story was the hardest to
swallow. That they were all infected by something in the water that cut
their magic in half.
Bryce continued:
— You discovered an antidote to the synth, Hypaxia.
I need you to do this again. May it help us evolve before we face the
asteri and free us from their restrictions.
— You place a lot of faith in my abilities. I will need to study the
parasite before I begin mapping the properties of a
antidote…
“We don't have time for the full scientific method,” Bryce replied.
“I would be a little hesitant to provide anything that hasn't been properly

tested,” Hypaxia countered.
— We can't afford that luxury — Athalar said firmly. —Anything you can
create, even if it's temporary, even if it only keeps the parasite away for a
while...
— I don't know if it's possible — Hypaxia replied, but Ithan noticed that
ideas were flashing in her eyes. — And I would need a laboratory.
Considering Avallen's state after you...claimed her, I don't think there's
anything here I can use.
“And there's no power anyway,” Bryce said. — Then you'll have to return
to Lunathion's House of Flame and Shadow... it seems to me that you'll be
able to remain hidden and safe there. Even more so if Jesiba is nearby.
Ithan didn't tell Bryce who—what—Jesiba really was.

This secret was Jesiba's, and only she could tell it.
Ithan asked, “What
do you mean by you guys?” I don't understand anything about science.
I can't help Hypaxia.
— You know how to fight — said Athalar. — And defend. Hypaxia will
need someone to protect her while she works.
Ithan turned to Bryce, who was watching him with a dark expression.
— Mas Sigrid...
— We need that antidote, Ithan — Bryce said gently, but in a firm voice.
— More than anything else. Hunt will provide Sigrid with the lightning, but
first we need the antidote. — She added, to Hypaxia: — As quickly as
possible.
Hypaxia and Bryce looked at each other for a long moment.

“Very well,” said Hypaxia, bowing her head.
Ithan closed his eyes. Abandon your quest, leave Sigrid as the reaper...
But his friends needed him. They were asking for your help. He
couldn't refuse, even if it was to save Sigrid... he had already ruined
her life. I wouldn't do the same with friends.
Ithan then opened his eyes and asked,
“When do we return to Crescent Moon City?”
Bryce's expression remained grim as she said, “Right now.
- Now? Hypaxia asked, the first sign of shock she showed.
— The boat is still waiting for you — commented Athalar, pointing

to the ocean in the distance. — Let's get the crystals with the others
and I'll put the lightning there. Once they get back, get on the boat
and head back to Lunathion.
— What if… And when… I invent an antidote for the parasite? —
Hypaxia asked Bryce and Hunt. — How will I get in touch?
“Call us,” Bryce said. — If you can't contact us, take the antidote
to the Eternal City. There's a fleet of mech-suits on Mount Hermon...
hide there and we'll find you.
- But when?
Bryce's face became stern.
— You will know when it is too late to help us.
Ethan spoke:
— Bryce…
But Bryce nodded toward the sparkling sea.
— As quickly as possible — she repeated to the former queen.
witch. - I beg.
With that, she walked over to Athalar, who leapt into the sky, flying
in the direction the others had gone.
They wouldn't have time to talk to Tharion, Flynn or Dec. Or say
goodbye. From the way Hypaxia watched the angel and Bryce
disappear toward the distant ruins, Ithan suspected she was thinking
the same thing about Lidia.
Twenty minutes later, Bryce and Athalar were back, with half a
dozen quartz crystals sizzling in the angel's hands, with lightning
inside.
Hypaxia put everything in her pockets, promising that she would use them wisely.
caution. Bryce kissed her cheek and then Ithan's.
In the past, he would have done anything for that kiss. But now I
only felt emptiness, dizziness.
Athalar patted Ithan on the shoulder before returning to the skies
with Bryce, soon becoming a small speck in the blue expanse.
When they were alone, Hypaxia pointed to the path that

they had walked from the beach.
“We have to go and face this challenge, Ithan,” she said, her voice
assured, then patted the lightning-filled crystals now shining in the
pockets of her dark blue robes.
With that, she headed off to the boat and the task ahead.
Ithan remained for a moment longer. He had also failed in that

mission. He had had a second chance to fix what had happened to
Sigrid and he had failed. It was important to help his friends — and
all of Midgard — but the decision weighed on his shoulders.
He had always considered himself a nice guy, but maybe not
were. Maybe he was deluding himself.
I didn't know what that meant about you.
Ithan followed Hypaxia, turning his back on Avallen and the hope
she offered. Having the lightning in hand, but having to postpone any
effort to help Sigrid...
There was no choice but to keep walking, one foot in front of the
other.
Who knows, maybe at some point he would be able to stop letting
a trail of absolute destruction wherever it went.
Hunt found Baxian arranging fresh bales of hay in the stables. The
place was intact, far enough away from the castle that they had been
spared when it all collapsed.
—Did you give the lightning to the wolf and the witch? asked
Baxian, by way of greeting.
— They're returning to Lunathion with him. But the priority is to try
to find a cure for the parasite.
“Good,” Baxian grunted. — I hope you have more success
than I can find a place to sleep tonight.
— It's that bad, is it? asked Hunt, leaning against the door.
—No one wants to give up a room or a bed, and we are not going
to expel people from their homes. — The Hellhound made a grand
gesture toward the stables. — Welcome to the Cair do Cavalo Hotel.
Hunt laughed as he analyzed the wood.
— To be honest, I've slept in worse places. These horses' house
is better than the one I lived in as a child.
It was sad but true.
“I say the same thing,” Baxian commented, and Hunt was so
surprised that he raised an eyebrow. Baxian added, — I… ah, I grew
up in one of the poorest parts of Ravilis. My parents were half
shapeshifter, meaning half shapeshifting Hellhound, and half angel...

which didn't make them the most popular either in the House of Earth and
Blood or in the House of Heaven and Breath. It made it difficult for them
to keep their jobs.
—Which of your parents was half angel?
“My father,” Baxian replied. —He served as captain in Sandriel's 15th .
It was easier for him than for my mother, who was rejected by everyone
she knew for “tainting” herself with an angel.
But they both paid the price together.
From the dark tone of his voice, Hunt knew it must have been ugly.
“I'm sorry,” he said.

— I was eight years old. I don't know how that commotion started,
but…” Baxian swallowed hard, yet finished covering one pallet with hay
and began working on another. — It ended with my mother torn apart by
the Hounds of Hell and my father imprisoned by the same angels he had
commanded, receiving a Living Death.
Hunt sighed.
- Holy crap.
— There was such a frenzy that they, um... — Baxian shook his head.
— They kept cutting off his wings every time they healed.
My father ended up losing so much blood that he didn't survive.
- I am really sorry. I never knew that.
— Nobody knew. Not even Sandriel. — Baxian covered the pallet with
a blanket. — And from then on, I went alone.
Neither family wanted to accept a hybrid, as they insisted on calling me,
so I learned to fend for myself in the suburbs.
How to hide, how to listen to conversations looking for valuable information
and how to sell this information to anyone who was interested. I got so
good at it that my name started going around. They called me “Snake”,
because I screwed up many people’s lives. And Sandriel ended up
hearing about me and recruiting me into the triary... to be his spy and
tracker. The Snake became the Hellhound, but… I kept some traits.
Hunt remembered Baxian's reptilian armor.

— I hated it all, I hated Sandriel and I hated Lidia, because I thought
she could see who I really was, but… what else could I do? — Baxian
finished preparing the pallets and faced Hunt. — Serving Sandriel's triary
was better than always living on the lookout in case someone wanted to
stab me. But all that shit she made us do…” He pointed to his neck, the
scar Hunt had made on it. — I deserved this.
— We all did bad things in the name of Sandriel —

commented Hunt hoarsely.
— Yes, but you had no choice. I had.
— You chose to walk away from that, to mitigate the damage when
possible.
“Thanks to Danika,” Baxian said.
— And is there a better reason than love? Hunt asked.
Baxian sorriu, triste.
— I told her everything, you know? For Danika, I mean. And she
understood… she didn’t judge me. She told me that she had a semi-fey
friend who had similar problems. I think loving Bryce allowed her to see
past all the bullshit in my past and love me anyway.
Hunt smiled.
“You should tell Bryce this.
Baxian looked at him.
— Are you… uh, are you okay? It seemed that all was not well for
some time in the caves.
“We are,” Hunt replied, exhaling. — Yeah, we're fine.
We talked.
— And that whole Hell thing… — Bryce had told everyone what the
Princes of Hell said about Hunt's origins. — How are you dealing with all
this?
Hunt thought about it.
— It's kind of in the background with everything that's going on, you
know? Poor me, with problems with my father. Or parents? I can't even
say.
Baxian chuckled.
— And what does it matter? Your exact genetic makeup?

Hunt thought again.
— No. These are just things in my blood, in my magic. They don't represent
who I am. — He shrugged. — At least that's what Bryce said. I'm trying hard to
believe it.
Baxian pointed to the halo on Hunt's forehead.
—Then why haven't you taken it off yet? They said you
I had this power all along.
Hunt looked up at the ceiling beams.
- I will take it off. — He dodged.
Baxian watched him as if he could read his mind. Understanding that, for
now, Hunt needed a break. A time to process everything. He wanted to get rid
of the halo, but he wasn't ready to become a Prince of Hell or anything like that
yet. Not yet.
Mas Baxian comentou:
— Bryce is right. It is not your biology that defines who you are. It's who
created you. Who you have become.
Hunt's mother's face appeared before his eyes, and he clung to the memory
of her, so strong in his heart.
— You and Bryce have been exchanging notes to make
motivational speeches?
Baxian laughed and then looked around.
— And where is she, anyway? Making more gardens appear?
Hunt chuckled softly.
- Must be. But I came here to find you… we'll have a war council in a minute,
but I wanted to ask you something first.
Baxian crossed his powerful arms, giving Hunt his full attention.
- What?
— Something really big is going to happen soon and I need someone to
manage things if I'm not around.
—And where would you be?
“Bryce will explain everything,” Hunt said, holding his gaze. — But I need a
second in command now.
Baxian raised his eyebrows. For a moment, Hunt was back in a war tent,
giving orders to his soldiers before
of the battle. He shook off the chilling memory and folded his wings.
Baxian smiled, not so much.
— Who said you're in charge?
Hunt rolled his eyes.
— My wife said. — And he pressed: — So… do you accept?
I need someone who can fight. On the ground and in the air.
— Oh, are you just asking because I have wings? Baxian ruffled his black
feathers for emphasis.
“I'm asking,” Hunt said, noticing the flicker of amusement on the Hellhound's
face, “because I trust you, idiot. For some strange reason.
— It only took a little time in the Asteri dungeons for us to become pariahs. —
The tone was light, although the shadows of everything they had been through
made Baxian's look serious. —But I'm honored.
Yes, you can trust me. Just tell me what needs to be done and I
I will do.
“Thank you,” Hunt concluded, and pointed to the exit. - You

You might regret it in a few minutes… but thank you.
***
— Let me see if I understand correctly — said Ruhn.

Everyone was gathered around a fire in the middle of an open plain, practically
the only place free from prying ears. Just for fun, Flynn had made a small grove
of oak trees appear around them. His earth magic seemed to be in full force, as if
the reborn earth was calling him to fill it, to adorn it.
But Ruhn looked at his sister as he spoke: — We're

going to Nena. Open the Northern Rift.
Bryce, sitting on a large rock with Hunt at her side, said, “I'm going to
Nena. With Hunt. And my parents… I need the kind of specific experience
that Randall has. Baxian will stay here with Cooper until they get back. You're
going to take these two fools,” she nodded at Flynn and Declan, who scowled at
Bryce, “and get back to Lunathion.
Ruhn blinked slowly.

- To die? Because that's what's going to happen if we get caught.
—To find Isaiah and Naomi. See if they can join us. I'm sure their cell
phones and emails have been tapped... we have no other way of
contacting them.
— Do you want us to convince two members of the triary of
Celestina to rebel? — Dec asked.
— It won't take much to convince them, but yes.
We need them,” Hunt said.
Ruhn shook his head.
— If you're thinking about gathering some kind of angelic host to face
the Asteri, forget it. No angel will follow any of us, not even Athalar, to join
the battle.
Bryce stood his ground. That was her plan, and Ruhn knew he couldn't
change her and Athalar's minds. He opened his mouth to continue arguing
anyway, but Dec interrupted him.
- It's him? — Dec asked, pointing to Baxian. - He has

a better relationship with the angels.
— Baxian will stay here to help coordinate the arrival of refugees and
lead in our place. — Bryce gestured to herself and Hunt.
“We could do that,” Flynn said.

“No,” Bryce replied, coldly, they couldn't. The —,
Fae are most afraid of
him, so he is the most effective for this task.
— And who said that? We're pretty scary,” Flynn replied.

— Said the fact that he at least got the stables for us to sleep in —
Hunt pointed out. Baxian raised his eyebrows at the fae lord. — You all
failed in this mission.
Flynn and Dec scowled. But Ruhn almost couldn't breathe when Bryce
looked at Lidia.
— I don't intend to give you orders. I know you have one
obligation to the Queen of the Ocean. Do what you need to do.
— I'm going with Ruhn — Lidia replied softly, and something in his chest
warmed.
Bryce nodded, and he didn't miss the gratitude in his sister's eyes.
- And me? — Tharion asked, finally, with his eyebrows raised.
“I need you to go back to the River Queen,” Bryce replied. — And

convince her to shelter as many people as she can.
Tharion turned pale.
— Legs, I'd love to do that, but she's going to kill me.
— Then find a way to convince her not to kill — said Athalar, a true
general as he looked into the merman's eyes. — Use your Captain Anything
skills to find a way not to die.
Tharion looked at Sathia, who was watching carefully.

— She, uh… won't like my new marital status.
"Then find a way," Hunt repeated, "to please her."
Tharion's jaw clenched, but Ruhn could tell he was weighing his options.
“The Blue Court was the only faction in Crescent City that sheltered
people during the spring attack,” Bryce commented. — You did everything
you could to help protect the innocent and keep them safe. Appeal to that
side of the River Queen. Tell her that there is a tragedy coming, and that after
what happened in the Asphodel Meadows, we need her to take in as many
people as the Blue Court can accommodate. If anyone has enough charm to
influence her, it's you, Tharion.
“Ah, Legs,” Tharion said, rubbing his face. — How can I resist when you
ask like that?
Sathia, to Ruhn's surprise, placed her hand on the merman's knee and
promised Bryce: — We'll go
together.
— Now she's going to kill Tharion, for sure — replied Flynn.
Sathia glared at her brother.

— I understand well how to deal with arrogant rulers. — She raised her
head. — I'm not afraid of the River Queen. — Tharion seemed to want to warn
her, but he kept his mouth shut. - Excellent. And thank
you,” Bryce said to Sathia.
“So that's it,” said Ruhn. — At dawn, let's go
spread to the winds?
“And let the dawn come,” concluded Bryce, and his starlight
flashed in his chest, illuminating the entire field. — Let's fight back.
***
Ruhn was still thinking about what Bryce wanted to do. Open the Northern Rift
to Hell. He could only have lost his mind... still, he trusted her. And in Athalar.
They must have had some trick up their sleeve, which they would only reveal
when the time came.
Ruhn tossed and turned on the spiked hay bed, unable to sleep. Maybe
because Lidia was lying in front of him, looking at the ceiling beams.
She looked into his eyes and Ruhn said, between minds: Can't you sleep?
I'm thinking about all the Ophion agents I've encountered over the years. I
never met them personally, but the people who helped me organize the attack
on the Spine, and who worked with me for years before that... are all dead.
It wasn't your fault.

The attack on the Asphodel Meadows was to mess with your sister. But
the Ophion massacre, the people in the camps. It was to punish me. Ophion
helped me escape and Rigelus wanted revenge.
Ruhn felt a tightness in his chest. Let's make the asteri pay for this.
She lay on her side, looking at Ruhn. Gods, she was so beautiful.
How are you feeling? she asked, in a gentle tone. After… what happened
to your father.
I don't know, replied Ruhn. It felt right at the time, I even felt good. But
now… He shook his head. I keep thinking about my mother,
among all people. What would she say. I think she would be the only person to
mourn him.
Did she love him?
She was attached to him, even though he treated her as little more than a brood
mare. But he'd kept her comfortable all these years, the reward for giving him a
son. She was always grateful for that.
Lidia reached across the narrow space to grasp his hand—her fingers still
strangely pale and callousless. But her skin was so soft and warm, the bones
beneath so strong. You will find a way to live with what you did to your father. I
found.
Ruhn raised an eyebrow. You…?
I killed him, yes. The words sounded sincere but exhausted.
Why?
Because he was a monster… to me and so many others. I made it look like a
rebel attack. I told Ophion to get his mechsuits and wait for his car to pass through
the mountains when he was going to meet me. They left a destroyed vehicle and a
dead body in their wake. Then they burned everything.
Ruhn blinked. Decapitating my father seems to have been… much quicker.

And it was. There was nothing but pure anger in her eyes. I told the Ophion
agents in their mech suits to take their time crushing his car. That's what they did.
Cthona, Lidia.
But I also thought about my mother afterwards, she said softly. In Hecuba.
Wondering what the Valbaran Witch Queen had thought of her ex-husband's death.
If you thought about me. If you had any interest in talking to me after his death. But
I never heard from her. Not once.
I'm sorry, he said, squeezing her hand. After a second, he asked: So you're
really not going back to the Queen of the Ocean?
No. Not to be her spy. I was serious before. I don't serve anyone. Is it weird to
say I'm
proud of you? Because I am.
She gave a muffled laugh and intertwined her fingers with his, her thumb
caressing the back of the male's hand. I'm with you, Ruhn,
she said softly. With all of you.

Those words were like a gift. He felt a warmth in his chest. He couldn't
stop himself from approaching her and, without making a noise so that no one
would hear, placing his mouth on hers.
It was a gentle, almost silent kiss. He pulled away after a few moments,
but her free hand slid to his neck. His eyes shone golden even in the dim
moonlight of the stables.
When we are no longer in a stable full of people, she said, her voice small in
her mind, like a purr that wrapped around his dick and squeezed tightly, I want
to touch you.
His dick got hard when he heard that, it hurt. Ruhn closed his eyes,
fighting the urge, but she brushed her lips against his, a silent tease.
I want to ride you, she whispered in her mind, and lowered her hand to
his pants. Ruhn bit his lower lip to keep from moaning. Her fingers slid down
his length. I want it inside me. Lidia ran the palm of her hand over his dick,
making him stifle a moan. I want you inside me.
Fuck yes, was all he could say, think.

Her laugh echoed in his mind, and her lips slid from his until they found
the place below his ear. His teeth grazed his too-hot skin, and he moved in
the hand that still held him, making the hay crackle…
— Please, no fucking here among us — murmured Flynn, a few meters

away.
“Ugh,” Bryce shouted from across the stables. - It is serious
that?
Ruhn closed his eyes tightly to stifle the lust he felt.
But Lidia laughed softly.
- Sorry.
“Perverts,” Declan muttered, crunching the hay as he turned away.
Ruhn looked at Lidia and saw her smiling, joy and mischief
lit up his face.
And damn, he doubted he'd ever seen anything so beautiful.
- You are disturbing me.

— Sorry, sorry. — Ithan walked through the morgue that Hypaxia had
quickly transformed into a laboratory. — I just don't know how to act while
you're there doing all this science.
Leaning over the table, Hypaxia prepared the things she needed to begin
the experiments.
“A sample of the parasite would be good,” she said, her voice
dragged, without lifting her head.
He stopped.
- As? — he asked and then answered his own question: — Ah. A glass
of water. — Ithan looked at the sink. — Do you think there are a lot of them
swimming around?
— I doubt it's that obvious, considering how many scientists and
medwitches have studied our water over the years. But if we are all infected,
it must be somewhere.
Ithan sighed and went to the sink. He picked up a mug that said Korinth
University Faculty of Mortuary Science. He filled the mug with water to the
brim and placed it next to Hypaxia.
- Ready. The purest nectar from Istros.
“The mug could be contaminated,” Hypaxia said, using a ruler to draw a
grid on a piece of paper. —
We first need a sterile container. In addition to samples from various water

sources.
— Have I told you that I hate science?
— Well, I love it — Hypaxia replied, still without looking up.
— There are some sterilized cups in the cabinet on the back wall.
Collect some samples from the taps, Istros itself and a bottle of store-bought
water. We will need a larger sample base, but this should be useful for the
initial phases.
Ithan gathered a bunch of sterilized containers and headed for the door.
He was a water boy. Friends on the soleball team would laugh

of his face. That is, if he ever spoke to his colleagues again.
But Ithan didn't say anything before leaving, and Hypaxia didn't call him.
***
Ithan bottled and labeled the various samples and gave Hypaxia a few vials
of his own blood as a basis for an infected person, then she sent him back to
get more water samples from different sources. The cafeteria, a nearby
restaurant and, best of all, the sewers.
Ithan was walking back through the dark door of the House of Flame and
Shadow when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. I knew that
strange, unsettling feeling. He turned around…
It wasn't Sigrid. Another female reaper, covered in black from head to toe,
walked lightly along the pier. People fled as soon as they saw her — the
street behind her was completely empty.
But she continued toward the door where Ithan was still frozen.
He had no choice, really, but to keep the door open for her.
The reaper passed, her black veils billowing. Acid green eyes glowed
beneath the dark fabric covering her face, and the husky voice made
everything inside Ithan twist as she said, “Thank you.” — And then
she continued up the stairs.
Ithan waited five minutes before walking again. She didn't have any
smell. Not even the smell of a corpse. As if he had ceased to exist in some
earthly way. That drove his wolfish instincts crazy.
But…
Ithan smelled the stairs again as he descended towards the lower
levels of the House and the morgue laboratory.
Entering the laboratory and closing the door behind him, he asked: —
What happens to the parasite when we die?
Hypaxia finally looked up from the papers, vials and forms.
- What?
“I just saw a reaper,” he said. — They are dead people. Well, they died.
Do they still have the parasite? They don't eat or drink, so they couldn't get
infected again, right? But does the parasite disappear when we die? Die
too?
Hypaxia stared at
him. — It's an interesting question. If the parasite does indeed die with
the host, then the reapers may provide a way to locate the parasite by the
lack of it in the bodies themselves.
— Why do I feel like you’re going to ask me to…
— I need you to bring me a reaper.
***
Morning came, purple and gold, over the Isles of Avallen. But Bryce only
had eyes for the helicopter as it descended over the grassy, flowery field in
front of the ruins of Morven Castle. She smiled.
The roar was thunderous to her fae ears, but she insisted on being
there. Needed to see: Fury waving from the pilot's seat and June gesturing
wildly beside her.
Bryce nodded back, throat tight to the point of pain, then
The side door of the helicopter opened and a bark cut through the air.
There was no stopping Syrinx as he jumped out of the helicopter and
ran towards her through the tall grass. She fell to her knees
to hug him, kiss him and let him lick all over his face while he swung
his lion's tail and howled with joy.
Boots crunched on the grass and Randall approached, a backpack
on his back and a rifle slung over his shoulder. His eyes lit up at the
sight of her, and he patted the shoulder of the tall boy standing next
to him—Emile, now Cooper.
And Bryce couldn't help but laugh with pure joy when his mother
jumped out of the helicopter behind them, took one look at Bryce
kneeling in the meadow, and said:
—Bryce Adelaide Quinlan, why is all this talk about you
jumping between worlds?
Ithan knew he couldn't convince a reaper to help on his own. At least

not without running the risk of having your soul sucked out and
devoured. The positive point was that many reapers would heed
Jesiba Roga's conjuration. The negative was that one of them arrived
at the morgue an hour after Jesiba requested the Sub-King.
Ithan kept remembering each exit, his strength, the knife in his
boot, how quickly he could use his claws or change shape...
The male reaper was relatively young, judging by the way he had
entered the morgue, advancing all pompous — almost without gliding.
He looked tempted to play the rock star, with ripped black jeans
hanging off his prominent hip bones and lots of tattoos spread across
his torso, which was so pale it was almost irritating. He wasn't
wearing a shirt. She wore fashionable black boots, poorly tied at the
top, and two matching bracelets, both leather and black.
Gods, Bryce would have so much fun with a guy like that—his
long, golden hair tousled with care. That is, until she saw the acid-
green eyes and throat he left behind.
clear where the deadly blow had been struck. The wound had healed, but the
scars remained.
“Thank you for coming,” Hypaxia said, standing next to the examination
table with majestic grace. — It will only take a few moments.
The reaper looked between her and Ithan, but went to the table, jumping down.
with a thud that made the metal shudder.
— I heard you deserted, little witch. — His voice was hoarse and wicked. It
might sound like the result of the mortal wound to the throat, but it was typical
of a grim reaper. Sigrid's voice also sounded like that...
— Welcome to the House — continued the reaper, his blue lips curling into
a sneer. He nodded at Ithan. —What is a wolf cub doing here?
Ithan mastered his primal fear of the creature before them and crossed his
arms.
—And what do you have to do with this?
— You're Holstrom, right?
The mocking smile was still there. If that idiot said anything about Connor...
— I was part of Aux — replied the reaper, tapping one of the tattoos.
— From the group of lion shifters.

Oh shit. Ithan had heard of this guy. A low-level lion who had appeared with
his party months earlier on a routine Aux inspection of the Meat Market, to
check on a vampire nest. The wounds on his neck matched what the vampires
had done to the guy. But choosing to become a reaper, in the same House as
the one who had killed him...
From the gleam in the creature's eyes, Ithan couldn't help but wonder if he
had turned into a grim reaper not to escape true death, but to one day take
revenge.
Hypaxia approached the reaper and said: —
May I touch your head?
The reaper kept his eyes on the former queen.
— You can touch me as much as you want, baby.
Holy crap. Ithan suppressed a growl, but Hypaxia remained serene as she
placed her hands in her shiny golden hair.
Ithan resisted the urge to reach for the knife in his boot as the reaper took
a deep breath. Smelling her? Or getting ready to eat your spirit?
— Your soul smells of rain clouds and mountain fruits. - O

scoundrel licked his lips. — Has anyone ever told you that?
How Hypaxia kept her hands on his head, Ithan had no idea.
He was half inclined to rip off the idiot's arms and use them
to beat the guy until he was unconscious.
The reaper took another breath.
— Half witch, half necromancer, huh?
“She needs to concentrate,” Ithan said through gritted teeth.
The reaper looked at him with those acid green eyes and asked Hypaxia:
— Am I
distracting you, my dear?
She did not answer. He had a distant expression on his face
as he focused on what was in the reaper's head.
The reaper took another deep breath, rolling his eyes.
— Gods, you smell like fucking wine…
“We're done here, thank you,” Hypaxia said, extremely politely, then took
a step back and began making notes on the papers piled on her desk. —
Please send greetings to your master.
The reaper stared at her for a long time, almost feral. Ithan could barely
breathe, ready to attack, despite knowing there was no way to kill that
scoundrel...
— See you around — replied the reaper, more of a promise than a
farewell, and got down from the table. He walked all pompous towards the
doors, this time with a bit of the reapers' floating gait, as if he was trying to
show off to the witch.
Ithan only started breathing again when he left.
— Fucking weirdo.
Hypaxia leaned against the examination table.
—But your guess was right. He didn't have the parasite. — She crossed
her arms. — Or at least I didn't feel anything like that. I didn't feel that
anything lived inside him.
- And now?
— I'll compare what I detected in him with what I discovered in his
blood. See what stands out and if I can isolate where the parasite is in you.
Good. At least he had contributed something.

— How did you handle it? asked Ithan, unable to
contain curiosity. — How did you manage to get so close to him?
— I've had to endure many uncomfortable situations and difficult people
throughout my life — commented Hypaxia, getting up from the table and
walking to the computer. She turned on the monitor. — A lonely, scared
reaper, new to the afterlife, doesn't bother me.
- Lonely? Scared? — Ithan choked on a laugh.
But Hypaxia looked over her shoulder, her expression impassive.
— Couldn't you tell? What was behind that brave attitude? Both his
clothes and his attitude show how much he is trying to cling to mortal life.
He's scared to death.
— You feel sorry for him.

- I have. — She went back to the computer. — I feel sorry for him, and
of all reapers.
From Sigrid too, without a shadow of a doubt. Guilt was like a pang in
his chest, but Ithan said, “Most half-living
people seem to enjoy terrorizing us all.
— That may be, but their existence is explained in the name itself: a
half-life. It's not a real life. That sounds pretty sad to me.
Ithan considered.
“You're… you're a very good person,” he said, and she laughed. —
I'm serious. The witches are missing out so much without you.
She looked at him over her shoulder again, her gaze filled with sadness.
- Thanks. — She nodded toward the door. —

I need to concentrate a little. With no one, uh… around.
He greeted her.
— I got the message. I'll be in the hallway if you need me.
***
— Queen of all this, right?

Bryce didn't stop rummaging through the supply trunks that Fury had
brought in the helicopter, even though her friend's question was accompanied
by a huge smile.
— Did you bring your glasses? asked Bryce, looking at the winter hats. All
the snow equipment was there, just as she had requested.
Before long, Fury had assembled an impressive array of jackets, pants,

hats, gloves, and underwear; everything they needed to survive Nena's subzero
temperatures.
Bryce intended to leave Avallen once her parents had rested from the
helicopter ride and were able to settle Cooper with Baxian and process
everything she had told him when they arrived.
His parents were sitting in the grass on the other side of the field, talking
quietly, and Syrinx was resting on Randall's lap. So Bryce stayed away and
took the time to check out the equipment Fury had brought, not that he thought
Fury hadn't thought of every detail.
Still, it was better to check. Just to make sure they had everything they
would need. A lot could go wrong, and she was taking her human parents
along, she was really going to do it...
A thin, brown hand touched Bryce's wrist.
— B… is everything okay?
Bryce finally looked up and saw Juniper standing next to her, a frown on
her beautiful face. A few feet away, Fury had his arms crossed and his
eyebrows raised.
Bryce sighed, turning away from the three huge trunks that would be
loaded onto the helicopter approaching behind them.
The friends would be safe there. That should make her feel more relieved,
it was a gift from Urd, Hunt had said, but seeing them there…
There was a fourth chest, resting on the grass near the helicopter.
Fury had only managed to grab a few things before they quickly left
Valbara, but still… there were a considerable number of weapons.
Weapons. Rifles. Knives.
A joke, actually, considering they were facing six nearly all-powerful
intergalactic beings. Most of the weapons would be for others — so
they would have a chance to try to survive.
Everything else would depend on her.

Fury and Juniper looked at Bryce. Waiting. As if they read her face.
Just like Juniper, in that harsh winter, Fury had realized that desperation
had pushed Bryce to the limit just by his tone of voice.
Juniper, whose last audio message to Bryce showed all her irritation
after Bryce did the unforgivable and called the director of the Crescent
Moon City Ballet, now had only love and relief on her face.
Juniper silently opened her arms and Bryce threw herself into them.
She had a lump in her throat, her eyes were burning from her
friend's heat, her smell. Fury's scent and arms wrapped around them
a second later, and Bryce closed her eyes, savoring that feeling.
time.
“Sorry for dragging you into this story,” Bryce said,
with a hoarse voice. — June, I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry.
Juniper hugged her even tighter.
— We have bigger problems to face now… everything is fine
between us.
Bryce walked away, looking at her two friends. She had told
everything she could to both of them and to their parents and,
consequently, to Cooper as well.
Fury frowned.
— I should go with you. I'm most useful when I'm fighting.
Bryce would have given anything to have someone as talented as

Fury taking care of her. But it wasn't about Bryce's safety, or his own
comfort.
“You're exactly where you're supposed to be,” Bryce insisted. —

When people find out that Fury Axtar is guarding Avallen, they'll think
twice before messing with this place.
Fury rolled his eyes.
— Babysitting.
— No. I need you here, helping anyone who has
survived. Helping Baxian.
— Yes, yes — said Fury, pointing his chin towards the rest of his
friends, standing on the other side of the helicopter. — I must admit that
I'm looking forward to peppering Baxian with questions about him and
Danika.
They looked at the handsome male, who must have noticed the attention
he was receiving, because he stared back at them from where he was talking
to Tharion and Ruhn. Baxian shuddered.
Juniper riu.
— We won't bite! —she shouted at the Hellhound. — It's a lie
— Fury muttered, making Juniper laugh even more.
Baxian was smart and paid attention to his conversation again. But
Bryce didn't fail to notice that Tharion nudged the angel shifter, laughing.
— I can't believe she never said anything about him to us

— Juniper said softly, with sadness in her voice.
— Danika wasn’t one to tell many things — Bryce replied,
with the same smoothness.
— Neither do you — provoked Fury, poking Bryce with his elbow.
— And again: Queen of Avallen?
— If you want the job, you can stay.
— Oh, not for all the gold in the world — replied Fury, amused, his
dark eyes shining with amusement. — You're the one who owns that dick.
Juniper scowled at her girlfriend.

— What Fury means is that we are here to protect you.
Bryce kissed June's soft, velvety cheek.
- Thanks. — She looked at her two friends. - If not

we can get back…
— Don't think like that, B — Juniper insisted, but Fury didn't say anything.
Fury had dealt with the shadows of the empire for years. He was
well aware of the odds.
Bryce continued,
“If I don't make it back, you'll be safe here. The mists will allow any
refugees to pass through… but I would still be on the lookout for Asteri
agents. Natural resources are many and serve to sustain everyone and,
obviously, there is no Primalux to power all your technology, but…
Juniper rested her hand on Bryce's wrist again.

— Leave it to us, B. Go do… what you need to do.
— Save the world — concluded Fury, laughing.
Bryce grimaced. - AND.
Basically.
“Leave it to us,” Juniper repeated, squeezing her hand on Bryce's wrist.
“And you will too, Bryce.
Bryce took out his cell phone. He took it out of the box, revealing the photograph that
had placed it there, when they were four friends.
— Save it for me — she asked, handing the photo to Fury. — I don't want
to lose.
Fury observed the image, all of them so happy, so young. She tightened
Bryce's fingers around the photograph.
- Light. — Fury's eyes shone. — So, we will all be with you.
Bryce felt another tightness in his throat, but he put the photo in the back
pocket of his jeans and allowed himself to look at June and Fury one last
time, to memorize every line of their faces.
Those friends were worth fighting for. They would be worth dying for.
***
Ember Quinlan was waiting on the hill where Bryce and his friends had
emerged from the Cave of Princes.
Ember looked at the grass-covered ground, tense. There was no trace

of the caves that had once been there.
— So his body is… down there.
Bryce nodded. He knew what his mother meant.
—Ruhn decapitated him and impaled his head before the ground swallowed
him. It's impossible for him to come back.
Ember didn't smile as she looked at the land, the Autumn King's corpse
it was right below her.
— I spent so much time running away from him, scared. Imagining a
world where he doesn't exist... — The mother looked up at Bryce's face
and, faced with the pain and relief in them, Bryce wrapped her in a hug,
squeezing her tightly.
“I'm so proud of you,” Ember whispered. — Not because…
deal with him, but for everything. I'm so, so proud, Bryce.
Bryce couldn't help the burning in his eyes.
— I only made it because I was raised by a badass mother.
Ember laughed, pulling back to cup Bryce's face with both hands.
- You are different.

— Different good or different bad?
— Good. Like a functioning adult.
Bryce smiled.
- Thanks Mom.
Ember pulled Bryce into a tight hug.
— But it doesn't matter if you're the Queen of the Fae or the Universe
or any of that crap... — Bryce laughed when she heard that, but Ember
added: — You'll always be my little baby.
Bryce hugged her mother tightly and all thoughts of the horrifying dead
male beneath them disappeared.
The helicopter roared in the distance again, this time piloted by Randall,
thanks to his mandatory years in the Pilgrim Army. All humans had been
forced to serve. The skills he had learned over those years continued to
prove useful, especially now, but Bryce knew the experience weighed
heavily on his soul.
Bryce finally looked up from his mother's embrace and saw Hunt
motion for them to come aboard, tapping his wrist irritatingly as if to say,
Time is running out, Quinlan!
Bryce grimaced, knowing that with those piercing eyes he could see
into the distance, but she held her mother for a moment longer. He
smelled her, so familiar and reassuring.
It was like being at home.
Ember returned the hug, happy to be there, to hug her daughter for
one more moment.
In the end, that was what really mattered.
Ithan was tired of playing bodyguard, even downstairs. While Hypaxia compared what he
observed in the reaper with the water samples and Ithan's blood, he packed artifacts in
Jesiba's office. He looked at the door every two minutes, as if Hypaxia was going to come
in and declare that he had developed an antidote for the parasite. But she didn't go in.
Upon entering the morgue, he found her on the table, with her head in her hands.
Vials of all sizes and shapes covered the metal surface beside her.
Ithan dared to put his hand on his shoulder.

- Do not give up. You're exhausted, working for hours. Go
find the cure.
- I already found it.
He took a moment to process what Hypaxia had said.
- Serious?
She nodded and poked a vial of clear liquid with her fingertip.
— It was much faster than I imagined. I was able to use the synthesizer antidote as a
model. Synth and the parasite have magic-altering properties in common... I'll spare you
the details. But with the changes I made I think it is possible to isolate
the parasite and kill it in the same way that the synthetic antidote does.
— She pointed to more small vials on a low table behind her. — I did
the best I could, but…
- But? — He could barely breathe.
She sighed.
— But it's far from perfect. I had to use lightning
Athalar to bring everything together. Unfortunately, I had to use it all.
She pointed to the table, where six quartz crystals sat.
Inactive. Empty.
He felt a tightness in his chest.
- All good.
Sigrid would continue to be a reaper for now, but he wouldn't give
up trying to help her.
— Athalar's lightning serves to unite everything, but not permanently
— Hypaxia continued. — The antidote is very unstable... just shake it
a little, and it stops working. If I had more time, I could find a way to
stabilize it, but for now…
Ithan squeezed Hypaxia's shoulder.

- You can say.
Her mouth twisted and then she said,
“The antidote is not a permanent solution. The effect will wear off
and, as Midgard's water is still contaminated with the parasite, we will
be infected again as soon as this happens.
— How long can one dose work?
- I don't know. A few weeks? Months? More than a few days, I
think, but I'll need to keep refining it and find a way to make it
permanent.
— But will it work for now?
- In theory. As long as there's Athalar's lightning uniting everything.
But I didn't have the courage to test it on myself to see if it works and
if it's safe, but also… to find out who I could be without this thing
feeding on me. — She raised her head and looked into Ithan's eyes,
her expression dark and exhausted. — If we remove this parasite,
what will happen? What are you going to do with the extra power?
— I will help my friends, whatever is necessary.

— And the wolves?
— What about them?

— If you get more power, you will be more skilled than Sabine. Strong
enough to challenge her. — She looked at him seriously. — Maybe I can put
an end to Sabine's tyranny, Ithan.
— I… — He didn't know what to say. — I hadn't thought about
what we would do next.
She wasn't surprised.
— You need to think. We all need.
He tensed.
— I'm not a planner. Damn, I'm just a gamer
solebol…
— You were a soleball player. And I think he hasn't thought about the
implications of having more power among the wolves because he's avoiding
thinking about what he actually wants to do.
He looked at her.
- And what would it be?
— You want Sabine to leave. No one but you will achieve this.
He felt bad.
— I don't want to lead anyone.
She looked at Ithan, as if she could see through him. But he said,
with a disappointment that struck his heart:
— All this talk is useless. We don't even know if the
antidote will work. — She looked at the bottle.
She would take it. Ithan knew that. I would try it, take a risk…
Ithan didn't give her time. He picked up the bottle, brought it to his mouth and
swallowed.
Hypaxia turned around, her eyes wide with apprehension…
And then there was just pitch black.
***
His body was there… no, more than the body.

His wolf, and him, and the power, like he could leap continents
whole at once...
Ithan's eyes widened. Had the world always been so clear, so bright?
Had the morgue always had that strong antiseptic smell? Was there a body
rotting in one of the boxes?
When did it get there? Or had it been there the whole time?
And that smell, of lavender and eucalyptus…
Hypaxia was kneeling, panting.
- Ithan...
A blink and a flash, and he changed. She staggered back towards the
wolf that appeared, faster than Ithan had ever transformed before.
Another blink and a flash, and he returned to his humanoid body.

As easy as breathing. Fast as the wind. Something was
different, something was...
His blood howled toward an invisible moon. The fingers
They curved to the ground as he sat, claws curling.
—Ithan? — The witch's voice was a whisper.
- It worked. — The words echoed around the room, around the world.
— He's gone, I can feel it.
Somehow, a barrier had been removed. The barrier that told him to bow,
to obey… was nothing more than ashes. Only the purest dominance
remained. Free from ties.
But filling the void of that barrier with a growing, furious force…
Ithan reached out and willed the thing under his skin to move forward.
Ice and snow appeared on his palm. They didn't melt against the skin.
He could conjure fucking snow. Magic sang in him, an ancient and

strange melody.
Wolves didn't have magic like that. They never had, as far as I'd heard.
They were shapeshifters and had strength, that's for sure, but that elemental
power... shouldn't exist in a wolf, but it was there. Growing in him, filling the
place where Ithan had never realized the parasite occupied.
Ithan said in a hoarse voice:

— We need to take this to our friends.

Hypaxia smiled from ear to ear.
- What will you do?
Ithan glanced at the hallway door.
— I think it's time to start making some plans.
***
— Only my daughter to drag us to Nena — Ember complained,

shivering because of the cold that made Hunt run out of breath. —
You couldn't do that, um, I don't know, in the Coronais Islands?
“The North Rift, Mom,” Bryce said through chattering teeth, is in

—, the north.
“There's one in the south,” Ember murmured.
"It's even colder down there," Bryce replied, and looked up at him.
Hunt and Randall are looking for my help.
Hunt laughed despite the frigid temperatures and howling wind that
It hit them from the moment they got out of the helicopter.
They couldn't fly any further. The huge black wall stretched for
miles on both sides and then curved north, with airspace protections.
Hunt knew from maps that the area surrounded by the wall was 30
miles in diameter—seven times seven, the most sacred of numbers—
and that in the center, somewhere in the barren, snow-covered terrain,
lay the Northern Rift, shrouded in mist. Barrier after barrier protected
Midgard from the Rift and the Hell beyond. “We'd better get going,”
Randall said, pointing to the leaden doors
in the wall before them.
“There's no one watching,” Hunt observed, following the human

male, grateful for the snow gear Axtar had managed to get for
everyone. — There must be at least fifteen here.
“Maybe they ran away because it was so cold,” Bryce commented,

shivering uncontrollably.
“An angelic guard never runs away,” Randall said, pulling the faux fur-
lined hood of his parka further over his face. — If they're not here... it's not a
good sign.
Hunt pointed to the rifle in Randall's gloved hands.
— Does this work at these temperatures?
“We hope so,” Ember grumbled.
But Hunt caught Bryce's gaze and summoned his lightning to stand ready.
He knew her starfire was already heating up under her gloves. With Theia's
power now united within her… he couldn't decide whether he was eager or
afraid to see what that starfire was capable of. - It's a trap? Ember asked as
they approached the imposing sealed gates
and abandoned guard post.
Hunt peered through the frosted cabin window and opened the door. The
ice was so thick that he had to use a considerable amount of force to loosen
it. A quick examination of the interior revealed layers of ice covering the
controls, chairs, and water station.
— No one has been here for a long time.

— I don't like this, it seems too easy — commented Ember.
Hunt looked at Bryce, his eyes watery from the cold and the tip of his
nose red. At those temperatures, they wouldn't last another ten minutes
before freezing. He and his partner would recover, as would Ember and
Randall, with human blood...
“Let's heat this cabin,” Bryce said, then went in and began cleaning the
ice off the switches. — Maybe the heater still works.
Ember looked at her daughter as if she was aware that Bryce and Hunt
had ignored her concerns, but she went in anyway.
***
They made the heater work, just one of them. The others were too frozen
to care. It was enough to warm the small space and offer her parents
some shelter while Bryce and Hunt returned to exploring the icy terrain,
studying the wall and gate.
— Do you think it's a trap? asked Bryce through the tissue he had
placed over his mouth and nose. I had found a few pairs of snow goggles
in the cabin, and the world was clear through the lenses. Was this how
Hunt saw behind his Umbra Mortis helmet?
Also wearing polarized glasses, Hunt said,

“I've never heard that the North Rift guard post
It was empty, so... there must definitely be something wrong.
—Maybe Apollion did us a favor and sent some deathcatchers to
clean everything up. — When she pronounced the demon prince's name,
the wind seemed to calm down. — Well, that's not scary at all.
“Here, in the far north,” Hunt said, turning to survey the land—perhaps
all that nonsense about —,not speaking the word.
his name on this side of the Rift be true.
Bryce didn't dare test again. Walked to the gates
lead into the wall and placed his gloved hand on the metal.
— I heard that both the wall and the gates had salt in them.
inlaid white.
For protection against Hell.
"It didn't stop the demons from getting through," observed Hunt,
whose face was inscrutable because of his glasses and the scarf
covering his mouth. — I've already hunted several of them to know how
flawed this wall is. And the guards too, I believe.
“I hate to imagine what's going on without guards here,” Bryce said.
Hunt said nothing, which wasn't comforting at all. — So, how are we
going to get through?
— There is a button inside the cabin. Nothing fancy,” Hunt replied.
Bryce nudged him.

— Let's take it easy this time — A gust of cold wind hit her back, as
if throwing her against the wall. Even with the layers of winter clothes,
she swore the cold reached her
bones.
— We'd better go before the light goes out. — Hunt nodded at the
sun already setting on the horizon. — The day will end in a few hours.
—Bryce? — Her father called from the cabin. — You need to see this.
They found Ember and Randall in front of a monitor

tremeluzente.
— The security footage. Ember pointed with a trembling, gloved
finger. Bryce knew the shivering wasn't from the cold. Her mother
pressed a key on the computer and the footage started playing.
“That's…” Bryce let out a gasp.

— We need to get to the Rift. Now,” Hunt growled.
— If you step foot in that Lair without being invited by Cousin or Sabine,
they'll kill you, doggy.
— I know — said Ithan, packing another box for Jesiba.
A mundane task, considering everything that was happening. But when
he burst into the office moments before to tell her the good news.
Jesiba refused to speak to him until he had dedicated a few minutes to
earning his daily bread.
So there he was, filling the boxes and talking at the same time.
—But if Hypaxia and I go to the Eternal City, we could very well… die.
— He choked as he said the last word. — I want them to know the truth.
—And what truth is that?

Ithan, who had been hunched over a box, stood up.
— The truth of what I did to Sigrid. That Sigrid exists, I think, still
let it be a reaper. What…
— So you want to ease your guilty conscience.
Ithan glared at her.
— I want you to know what happened. That yes, Sigrid is a reaper
and that I couldn't undo that, but... that, technically, they have an
alternative for Sabine, even if it's a half-alive one.
It would be radical and unprecedented to accept a female reaper as the

Presumed Cousin, but stranger things have happened, right?
Jesiba started typing on the computer.
— Why do you care?
— Because wolves have to change. They need to know they can choose
someone other than Sabine. — Ithan looked at his palm, wishing ice would
form there. Ice surged, cracking the skin into a thin film before melting. —They
need to know that there is an antidote that can grant powers that go beyond
hers.
That they don't need to be subservient to her.
— The wolves will need proof of this, or you won't make it out alive.
from there — declared Jesiba.
— Isn't that enough?
He formed a chunk of ice on his fingertip, as much as he could safely

control. He supposed he would need to talk to the fae or some type of elf to
know how to command this new ability.
Hypaxia took the antidote minutes after him. He passed out, just like him,
but woke up vibrating with power. Ithan could have sworn that a light, breezy
breeze constantly played through her hair—and that some kind of ongoing
power seemed to emanate from her, even when she wasn't using it.
Ithan had offered a bottle to Jesiba when he went to tell her the good
news, but the witch said: you won't help me, doggy. And then demanded that
he do this shitty job while he explained what had happened.
Jesiba now said:

—If I know wolves well, they probably think Quinlan
You asked me to do something to you that made you… unnatural.
— They know Bryce is a good person.
— Do you really know? As far as I remember, they haven't been kind to
her since Danika and the Pack died. And you are included in this.
As bochechas de Ethan I will heart.

— It was a difficult time. For all of us.
— Danika Fendyr would have kicked you all the way to the Lair gates if
she saw how you were treating Quinlan.
— Danika would have… — Ithan stopped speaking when a memory
appeared in his mind. — Danika questioned the power structure of wolves,
you know? Even she found it strange that the Fendyr had been doing
whatever they wanted for so long.
— Did you think so?
Ithan turned to the sorceress's table.

— Bryce and I found some research documents that Danika had
hidden. She wanted to know why the Fendyr were so dominant… I don't
think she approved of that either. — He nodded to himself. — I would have
encouraged others to take the antidote.
To kick Sabine away.
Jesiba raised her eyebrows.
— If you say so... you knew Danika much better than I did.
— I know she hated her mother… and thought hierarchies were
extremely unfair. — Ithan took a few steps. — I need to get these papers.
I'm going to take it to the Lair and show everyone that it's not just me who
questions this, that even a Fendyr disagreed with their absolute dominance.
This might convince them to accept an alternative to Sabine. Sigrid is a
Fendyr, but not in the direct line. Who knows, maybe this will help them
understand that it can be an alternative.
— They'll say you forged the papers. — Jesiba typed on the keyboard.
— This is a risk I have to take — said Ithan, walking to the door. — The
days of wolves controlled by Sabine, standing idly by while innocent people
suffer… must end.
We need a change. And big ones. And maybe, if Urd protects us, what's
most important inside Sigrid will still be intact, unchanged after she turned
into a reaper. If that's the case, I'd prefer Sigrid over Sabine without thinking
twice.
Maybe it wasn't a question of undoing what he had done, but of doing
what he could with the cards he had in his hands. To adapt.
— As much as this is a very open-minded thought, Holstrom —

declared Jesiba, closing the computer — do you really think it is a smart
decision to not only go to the Lair completely defenseless, but to start
preaching for them to accept a reaper as Presumptive Cousin? Let's not
forget that some wolves may still like Sabine and her leadership style.
Many of them might like it, actually. —

Yes, but it's time to give an option. To free yourself from
control of it.
— You forget — said Jesiba, gloomily — that from the beginning they
were the main executors of the asteri. They have never shown any
inclination to free themselves from anyone's control.
— It's a risk I have to take. I can't sit still,” he insisted.
—Quinlan told you to protect Hypaxia.

— This won't take long. Keep an eye on her for me… please.
He walked to the door, and Jesiba spoke as Ithan held

the doorknob. His voice sounded heavy, resigned.
— Careful, doggy.
***
Ithan went to Bryce's apartment with the help of the sewer map of the
House of Flame and Shadow, which was frightening with how accurate it
was. I didn't want to think about who else made regular use of those
tunnels.
Despite Danika granting him access, Ithan entered the building
through the roof door. There was no doubt that the building was being
watched, so he tried to stay in the shadows as much as possible. If the
guard downstairs saw him on the cameras, no one had come to investigate.
Danika's papers were still where he and Bryce had left them: in the
junk mail drawer. He flipped through them just to make sure the information
was still as he remembered it.
He was. It could be a convenient support for your claims.
Did you see? Even Danika wanted all of this to change. And yes, Sigrid is a
Fendyr… but it's also different, and could be a step in the right direction.
He would find a way to say it more eloquently, but Danika's name still carried
weight.
Ithan folded the stack of papers gently and placed them in the back pocket of
his jeans. Outside, the city remained quiet; silent. Mourning.
And inside the building…

Gods, it was strange to see that apartment so empty and dull without its
occupants.
Ithan looked at the white sofa, as if he was going to find Athalar and
Bryce sitting there, Syrinx with them.
How distant that life seemed now. He doubted it would ever be like that again.
He wondered if his friends would ever return. If Bryce would…
He didn't allow himself to finish the thought.

There was no other choice but to continue. Whatever it was.
And Jesiba was right. Entering the Lair would probably be suicide,
but… he looked down the hall, at Bryce's bedroom door.
Maybe he didn't need to go in unarmed.
The gates took a long time — a very long time — to open, the ice
and snow breaking and falling. Bryce passed first, starfire glowing
beneath his gloves.
— I can't understand — Ember declared as she squeezed behind
Bryce, Randall was right behind her, Hunt following. —What is the
Harpy doing here?
“She's not the Harpy anymore,” Bryce said. —She's like… some
weird necromantic thing created by the asteri thanks to whatever
they managed to do with some of Hunt's lightning.
I don't know, but we don't want to run into whatever it turned into.
Bryce saw the worry and guilt on Hunt's face, but there was no
time for her to assure him that it wasn't his fault. Hunt had had no
choice but to provide Rigelus with the lightning. He had been used
for horrible things, but it wasn't his fault.
—But the Harpy devoured the guards… — Ember

protested. “That's why we're going to the Rift,” Bryce concluded,
nodding to Hunt, whose eyes gleamed with steely determination.
“Now, damn it.
Hunt didn't wait before lifting her mother into his arms and spreading her
wings. Bryce grabbed Randall and said,
“Surprise: I can teleport.” Don't vomit.
Luckily, Randall didn't vomit as she teleported them the twenty-five miles to
the center of the walled ring, but he did so as soon as they arrived.
They had traveled faster than Hunt and her mother, leaving Bryce with
nothing to do but watch his father vomit in the snow as he was hit with several
waves of dizziness caused by the teleportation.
"That's..." Randall said, and vomited again, "useful, but horrible."
“I think that sums me up in a nutshell,” Bryce commented, jokingly.
Randall laughed, threw up again, then wiped his mouth and stood up.
“You're not horrible, Bryce. Not even a little.
- Perhaps. But this is,” she said, and pointed to the structure in front of her.
from them. In the swirling mists.
An enormous arch of clear quartz rose forty feet into the air, its top almost
hidden by the mist. You could see through the arch, and there was nothing
inside except what could only be described as a ripple in the world. Between
worlds.
And more mist on the other side.
—The Asteri must have built the arch around the Rift to
try to contain it. Or try to control her, maybe,” Bryce said.
“I'll ask you once and I won't say anything else,” Randall said. Behind him,
Hunt and Ember appeared, approaching through the air.
—But opening the Rift… is it the best solution?
Bryce let out a long sigh that disappeared into the mist.
— No. But it's the only idea I have.
***
There was not a single mourning banner in the Lair. No dirge offered to Cthona,
beseeching the goddess to guide those who
they had just died. In fact, somewhere in the complex, a stereo was
playing a dance beat.
No one better than Sabine to move forward as if nothing were
happening. As if an atrocity had not occurred in a neighboring
neighborhood.
At this time of year, it was tradition for many of the Lair families to
disperse across the countryside to enjoy the changing leaves and cool
autumn mountains, so there were few packs here. Ithan knew which
ones would be there—just as he knew that only Perry Ravenscroft,
Omega of the Black Rose and Amelie's younger sister, would be
guarding the gates.
A bronze representation of the Embrace—the sun setting or rising
between two mountains—was displayed in the window of the guard
post. And it was because Ithan knew Perry so well that he knew that
this little decoration was her way of telling the city that some in the Lair
were in mourning, that they prayed to Cthona to comfort the dead.
Perry's large emerald eyes widened at the sight of Ithan as he

prowled up to the guard shack. She must have thought he had
materialized out of nowhere. In fact, the stealthy movements were
courtesy of his new speed and unearthly silence—complemented by
the fact that he had traveled through the sewers, needing to remain
out of sight until the last possible minute.
Perry reached for the radio on the table, his long brown hair shining
in the afternoon sunlight, but Ithan held up his hand. She stopped.
“I need to talk,” he said through the glass.

Green eyes scanned his face, then went to a spot on his shoulder,
to the sword Ithan carried. Perry looked at him and then opened the
cabin door. The aroma of cinnamon and strawberries hit him an instant
later.
Up close, you could count the freckles on the tip of her nose. Her
pale skin seemed to pale even more as she processed what he had
said.
— Sabine is in a meeting…
— Sabine, no. I need to talk to everyone else. You were the only one who
got in touch to see if I was alive after… everything — Ithan explained. She
sent him messages every now and then, not many, but with Amelie as her
alpha and sister, he knew that her friend couldn't dare communicate more than
that. — Please, Perry. Let me into the courtyard.
— Tell me what you want to talk to us about and I’ll think about it. — Even
though she was Omega, the lowest position in the Black Rose Pack, she didn't
back down.
It was only because of this courage that Ithan told her his secret first.
— A new future for wolves.

***
Ithan knew that the wolves had arrived quickly in the courtyard only because
Perry was very loved within the Den. Many trusted her. As soon as they
received the message of a last minute announcement, everyone headed there.
He kept hidden in the shadows of the pillars beneath the north wing of the
building, watching those he considered friends, almost family, gathered in the
grassy space. The red and gold trees in the small park behind them swayed in
the cool autumn breeze, and the wind thankfully kept their scent away from
the wolves.
When there were already a considerable number of wolves, about a hundred,
Perry stepped out onto the few steps in front of the building's doors and said:
—So, uh… almost everyone is here.

People smiled at her, confused but indulgent. It had always been this way
with Perry, the Covil's resident artist, who at the age of four painted her room
in every color of the rainbow, despite her parents' order to choose a tone.
Perry looked at him, his eyes shining with fear. For him or
for her, Ithan couldn't say.
“Go ahead,” she said softly, and went downstairs,
sitting on the grass.

Even though it was the Viper Queen who spoke those words, Ithan kept
them in his heart as he stepped out of the shadows.
Growls, howls and cries of surprise rose. Ithan raised his hands.
— I'm not here to cause problems.

—Then get lost! — someone shouted... Gideon, Amelie's third, from the
back. Amelie herself walked through the crowd, her face contorted with fury…
“Everything we are is a lie,” Ithan declared, before Amelie could reach him
and transform.
Some people quieted down. Ithan moved on, because Amelie's canines
were lengthening, and he knew he would complete the transformation soon.
— Danika Fendyr questioned this too. And he died before he could discover
the truth.
The words had the desired effect. The crowd was silent. Still, Amelie moved
forward, pushing people out of the way, with Gideon, imposing, menacing, and
clumsy, hot on her heels...
Ithan looked at Perry, standing at the front of the crowd, her eyes
greens fixed on it. He turned to his friend and continued:
— The Asteri planted a parasite in our brains that repressed our inherent
magic, reducing it to its most basic components: shapeshifting and strength.
However, even skills were nipped in the bud. All so that we would continue to
be their faithful executors, as we have been since the emergence of the
Northern Rift.
Amelie was ten feet away, her muscles straining to leap onto the stairs, pin
him down, and destroy him…
“Look,” Ithan said, and held out his hand.
Ice swirled in his palm. The crowd gasped. Even Amelie looked shocked.
Ithan, letting the ice crust over his fingers, continued: — Magic,
elemental magic. It was here, sleeping in my veins this whole time. — He
looked into Perry's eyes again, noting the shock and something like longing in
them. - One
friend of mine, a medwitch, made an antidote for me. I took it and discovered
what I really am. Who I really am. What sleeps in the lineage of all wolves,
repressed by the asteri for fifteen thousand years. —It's a witch's trick —
Amelie
spat, trying to pass by her younger sister. “Get out of there,” she ordered
Perry. Not as his sister, but as his alpha.
But Perry, despite her slender body, stood her ground. And said to
Amelie, in a loud voice:
— I want to hear what he has to say.
***
Ithan spoke as quickly as he could, giving the wolves a general context of the
parasite and what it did to their magic. And then, because they still seemed to
doubt, he explained what had actually happened in the Bone Quarter:
secundalux. The soul grinder.
When he finished, Ithan looked into Perry's eyes again. She
she was white as a ghost.
— Queen Hypaxia Enador can attest to everything I said — said Ithan.
— She is no longer queen! She was expelled… just like you, Holstrom,”
cried a wolf.
Ithan bared his teeth.
— She's brilliant. He figured out how to fix this thing in our brains, to give
us back our magic. So don't use that fucking tone to talk about her.
And upon hearing the growl in Ithan's voice, the order, the wolves in the
crowd straightened up. Not in anger or fear, but…
- What did you do? asked Perry, taking a step towards the
front. — Ithan, you…
— There's another Fendyr — Ithan said, moving forward, preparing himself.
The crowd stirred. Perry was gaping.
- What are you talking about? she asked.
He couldn't stand that confusion, that hope in her voice,
in your shining eyes.
“Her name is Sigrid,” Ithan explained, his throat thick.

tight. — She… she is the daughter of Sabine's late brother. It's her…
— That's enough — shouted Amelie, finally taking the lead. - That
nonsense has to end now.
Ithan growled, low and deep, and even Amelie stopped, one foot on the
step.
He held her gaze, letting her see everything there.
— Why is this traitor still alive? — Sabine's voice glided across the
courtyard.
Ithan turned, careful to keep Amelie in his sights.
while looking at the approaching Presumed Cousin.
A step behind her, emerging from the shadows, walked Sigrid and the
Astronomer.
“Reaper,” Perry muttered, stepping back. Not to run, but to protect a young
wolf a few steps behind her, who trembled in pure terror before the acid green
eyes of the reaper between them.
Judging by Sigrid's rather normal gait, she was still in the middle of
transitioning. But there was already a strangeness in his movements.
The beginning of that smooth glide common only to reapers.
Her clothes were still torn apart and bloody.
As proof, he noticed — because his blood was on them too. And the wolves
would know if they smelled it.
Struggling to find the right words as he pointed at Sigrid, Ithan said, “She…
she's not a threat to
all of you. — It's a reaper! — someone shouted at him
from behind.
The Astronomer smiled at Ithan. How did the damned old man manage to
keep her away from the Sub-King? Somehow he had orchestrated that,
bringing his old mystique to Sabine. All to get revenge on Ithan.
— Whatever story Holstrom is telling you, don't listen to a single word. —
— Sabine announced loudly. —, The crowd backed away, desperate
to escape the reaper at Sabine's side. — Ithan Holstrom is a liar and a traitor
to everything we stand for.
“That's a lie,” Ithan growled.

- AND? — Sabine pointed to Sigrid, who was beside her, looking at the
crowd with an impassive expression. — Look what you did to my dear niece.
The word hit the crowd like a violent wave. He practically felt them putting
the pieces together—that the reaper before them was the same Fendyr
heiress Ithan had mentioned just now. It is possible that…
Niece, people whispered.

The Astronomer crossed his withered hands before him, a portrait of a
serene old age.
“It's true,” he announced. — Twenty years ago, Lars Fendyr came to me
and sold me his oldest cub. — He gestured to Sigrid. —She was my faithful
companion, as dear to me as my own daughter. — His dark eyes slid to
Ithan, sharp with hatred. — Until that boy kidnapped her and turned her into
this.
The crowd turned, all focus now on Ithan, eyes

suspicious, condemnatory…
“My brother's daughter,” Sabine said, raising her voice to be heard over
the murmuring, bustling crowd. — Killed in cold blood by that male. — She
pointed to Ithan. — Just as he and his fae friends tried to kill me.
— That's... — Ithan began, noticing how pale Perry was. “It's the truth,”
Sabine
sneered. — I have the video, courtesy of the Viper Queen. I will be happy
to show everyone how you mercilessly murdered a defenseless young wolf.
Ithan couldn't speak, horrified.

It had all been a long-term move by the Viper Queen.
Not only to have fun, but also to use the knowledge of what he had done to
his own advantage. The relationship between her and Sabine was tense, so
why not ease it with a small peace offering?
Marc had told Ithan that the Viper Queen did not deal in money, but in
favors and information. He had fallen right into the
trap.
“Ithan tried to get a necromancer to raise her from the dead,” Sabine continued,
gesturing to the reaper. —To use her as a puppet and usurp me.
- That is not…
The Astronomer added:
— And when he found out what had happened to her... — The Astronomer gave
Sigrid a look of pity. — I asked the Sub-King for her release so that I could bring her
to the Lair immediately, for you who are so good.
This couldn't be happening.

Sabine smiled. It was definitely happening.
— This morning, Sigrid informed me that when she was faced with this unspeakable
slavery, thinking of protecting her people, she chose to exist as a reaper. And now,
you come here as my heir,” said Sabine.
The shock caused silence to fall over the place.

He had been an idiot, so stupid for thinking that Sigrid would be like Danika, that
she could have chosen to be a reaper and still want joy and peace and what was best
for the wolves—instead of the pure hatred that now shone in his gaze. , which fell on
Ithan.
But Amelie stared at Sabine. She was Sabine's heir.
Appoint another, even more so a reaper...
Perry looked between his sister and Sabine, then at the reaper.
— Why don't you let your new heiress speak for herself, Sabine?
Sabine growled at Perry, who took a step back.
Ithan's hair stood on end at the submission, at the hatred.
— Everyone knows that the Holstroms have long wanted to replace
the Fendyr,” continued Sabine.
— It seems so — spat Ithan.
“Our traditions continue because they are strong,” Sabine told the crowd. The
Astronomer approached Sigrid, looking at the wolves. — Hearing this kid spew the
propaganda of a renegade witch…
“Go to the Bone Quarter,” Ithan interrupted. — Ask the

Sub-King an audience with my brother. Connor will tell you…
— Only the scum of the House of Flame and Shadow are capable of such things
— Sabine scoffed.
— Your heir — Perry said with calm authority — is in that House,
Sabine.
Sabine smirked at Perry, and Ithan was overcome with hatred.
“Sigrid defected to the House of Earth and Blood,” Sabine continued.

The crowd murmured again. — And, from now on, you will live here, as
your future Presumed Cousin.
The Astronomer nodded, his long beard brushing the belt around his
draped robes.
— After convincing the Sub-King to release her into my care, it is with
sadness that I part again with my daughter of the heart, but I know it is for
her good. Sigrid is now part of your Lair… a true wolf.
“I don't remember approving the request,” said an old, weak voice.
The crowd fell silent as Primo limped past the

doors. Even the Astronomer lowered his head in deference.
Sabine must have trained Sigrid, because the wolf fell to her knees.
in front of the Cousin and lowered his head.
“Grandfather,” she said, her voice hoarse.
People gasped at the sound of his voice. The hoarse whisper of a
reaper.
The Cousin looked at Sigrid's pale face. Her acid green eyes. The
wounds in the throat, in the neck.
He said nothing and his milky eyes slid to Ithan.
Full of sadness and pain.
Ithan swallowed hard, but stood his ground.
- Sorry. I... I didn't want this to happen. — The crowd's attention was
riveted on him. — I was trying to fix things.
“At the expense of the wolves' future,” Sabine replied.

Ithan reached over his shoulder and pulled out the gun he'd brought
from Bryce's room.
The Fendyr sword groaned as it freed itself from its scabbard. Sabine's
eyes flashed with fury and desire...
But Ithan knelt before the former Cousin and bowed his head,
raising the blade in offering.
“I have no intention of usurping the Fendyr,” Ithan said, keeping his
gaze on the ground. — I just want what’s best for our people. I thought
Sigrid might be… different, but I was wrong. I was wrong and I'm sorry.
Sabine boiled:
— Dad, don’t listen to that rubbish…
— Silence — ordered the Cousin, in a voice Ithan hadn't heard in
years. He dared to look at the old male. — I heard what you said — said
the Cousin to Ithan — through the cameras. — The milky eyes seemed to
clear for an instant, revealing a glimpse of the powerful and fair wolf he
had been. — Danika had actually thought about what you said just now.
She had some suspicions and asked me about it and, even though I had
thought the same thing for a long time, I was running away from the truth.
It was… it was easier to continue than to face a painful reality. Maintain
stability rather than risk an uncertain future.
The Cousin took the sword Ithan offered, his wrinkled hand shaking
with the effort of holding the heavy blade.
— I allowed our people to be forced to serve in the Aux — he
continued, looking now at Perry — even when their artistic souls abhor it.
— Perry's eyes shone with pain. — What Ithan said to you is true. It has
always been true, since the First Wars and the unspeakable atrocities our
people committed in the name of the Asteri. My daughter — he glanced at
Sabine, who growled softly and didn't want to listen when I mentioned that
wolves could be more, better than us. But my—,granddaughter heard it.
The old wolf let out a heavy sigh.

— Danika could have led us back to the way we were before we
allowed ourselves to be captured by the Asteri. I have long believed that
she was killed for having this goal, by the powers that want the status quo
to remain in place. — The Cousin looked at
the wolf kneeling at his feet. —But this must be stopped. — He extended the sword
to Ithan. — Ithan Holstrom is my heir.
A stunned silence passed through the crowd, the world. Ithan couldn't breathe.
— And no one else — concluded the Cousin.

Sabine turned death white.
— Good…
The Cousin gave his daughter a cold look.
— For a long time, I let you act as you pleased.
— I kept our people and this city safe…
— You are stripped of your title, position and authority.
Sabine stared at him in disbelief. Beside you, the bright eyes
Sigrid's green eyes shot between the two wolves.
The Astronomer stared at the distant eastern gates, as if
began to wonder if he had bet on the wrong horse.
“Take it,” said the Cousin to Ithan, and extended his sword again.
new.
Ithan shook his head.
— I didn't come here to...
“I offered to make you alpha once, Ithan Holstrom.
Now I offer to make you Cousin. Don't run away from it.
Ithan didn't take the sword.
— Eu…
He didn't get the chance to finish the refusal.
One moment, he was looking at the sword. In the other, Sabine snatched it
from her father's hands.
She stuck the gun in Cousin's old face.
The crowd erupted into screams and shouts. Out of the corner of my eye, Ithan
saw Amelie drag a struggling Perry out of reach.
The Cousin fell to the ground in front of Ithan, his eyes blind.
covered in blood. If a medwitch arrived soon, maybe…
Sigrid stirred.
Ithan couldn't contain the cry of dismay when she
He jumped onto his grandfather's body and pressed his mouth to his withered lips.
She took a deep breath.
Light shone through Cousin's mouth, illuminating his sunken

cheeks, and then Sigrid inhaled and drank.
His soul, primalux…
She tilted her head back and swallowed that light, his essence.
Sigrid's skin glowed as the light passed through her throat, inch by
inch.
There would be no way to bring Cousin back.
Still, Sabine cut off his head. The Astronomer, mouth open and
splattered with blood, stumbled back a step, looking at Sigrid in
disbelief as she stared at him with her voracious green eyes…
Ithan only had time to turn and jump from the stairs before Sabine
brandished the bloody sword at him, who couldn't stop looking at
Cousin and Sigrid, the reaper he had created and who had eaten the
old wolf's soul, just as hungry as she was. a vampire...
—Ithan! Perry shouted, and Ithan watched as Sabine lunged at
him, sword in the air.
He jumped back, narrowly escaping being hit.
— This sword — Sabine panted, brandishing it — is mine. The
title is mine.
Ithan transformed so quickly that even Sabine looked shocked.
Sabine swung her sword as Ithan attacked, a
powerful that would even split his wolf's skull in two.
Ithan jumped straight for the blade. His jaws closed around her.
Sabine's eyes flashed with shock when Ithan bit down,

tasting metal.
And he broke the Fendyr sword with his teeth.
Most of those present had fled as soon as Sigrid began feeding on her
Cousin's soul. But Perry and Amelie, with Gideon at their sides,
remained near the trees, watching Sabine and Ithan.
Sabine looked at the Fendyr sword, broken into seven parts, and
he looked up furiously at Ithan.
Ithan returned to his humanoid body at the same
moment. “It's just a piece of steel,” he said, panting, the metallic
smell of the blade still in his mouth. — You spent all these years
obsessing over this, resenting that Danika was with her… it's just a
piece of metal.
Sabine's claws glowed. The lips curled back from the fangs and
she growled.
But behind her, Sigrid approached the Astronomer, who had fallen
to the ground and was crawling backwards, hands up. The male
begged:
— I treated you well, I freed you from the hands of the Sub-King…
The Astronomer had no opportunity to plead his case.
Sigrid, out of spite or out of hunger, didn't allow the old man to scream
and jumped up to put her mouth on his.
Even Sabine stopped to watch as Sigrid plunged her claw-like hand
into the Astronomer's chest, ripping out his still-beating heart.
as she took a deep breath, the brilliant light — secundalux — of her soul rising
through her body and passing through their joined mouths…
That wasn't Ithan's problem. Not at that moment. He
He looked at Sabine and gave a long, deep growl.
Sabine's nose wrinkled.
— You're not an alpha, doggy — she growled and lunged.
Ithan invested. A straight run into the jaws of death.
Sabine jumped at him and Ithan ducked, sliding, grabbing the largest of
the sword fragments and lifting it high…
Blood poured like rain and Sabine screamed as she fell to the grass with a
muffled thud. Ithan stood up and turned towards her. Sabine was crouched on
the ground, one hand pressed to her stomach, as if that could keep her now
oozing organs from falling onto the grass.
He was vaguely aware of Sigrid, behind him, swallowing the Astronomer's

dying soul and letting the inert corpse fall to the stones of the stairs.
But Ithan slowly approached Sabine, and there was no one else in the
world, no mission other than that. Sabine looked up at him with furious, pain-
filled eyes.
“Everything I did was for the wolves,” Sabine said, panting.
— It was because of you — Ithan said, stopping in front of her.
She laughed disdainfully, showing her teeth covered in blood.
— You will lead them to ruin.
— That's what we'll see. — Was all Ithan said before transforming once
again into a wolf with supernatural speed.
Sabine looked into the wolf's eyes and saw death. He opened his mouth to
speak, but Ithan didn't give him the chance. It was enough of her vitriol that
was poisoning the world.
One jump, one snap of the incredibly strong jaws, and it was over.
With the extra strength he had acquired, he had managed to break the
steel sword. Breaking flesh and bone was nothing in comparison.
But once her blood hit his tongue, red took over his vision, glowing, burning.
He was angry,
growls and fangs. He was blood, guts and primal fury…

- Ithan.
Perry's shaky voice brought him out of his daze. Of what he had done with
Sabine's body. Her blood covered her mouth, the flesh stuck between her
teeth…
“They're watching,” Perry said, panting, approaching him.
Still in wolf form, Ithan turned to the witnesses of his savagery, but Perry
said, “Don't look. — Then she
fell to her knees in front of him. He tilted his head back and exposed his
neck. A pause. - I surrender. I surrender to Cousin.
The words touched him, more despair and suffocation. He couldn't contain
the instinct to reach out and wrap his teeth around Perry's slender neck. That
taste of cinnamon and strawberry in your mouth.
Accept submission to him. The acknowledgment.
Footsteps echoed nearby. Then Amelie appeared, her face pale with shock.
But she also fell to her knees. He exposed his neck.

It was either submit to him or die. As a potential rival, Ithan would have no
choice but to kill her. Looking back, he saw the Astronomer's corpse lying on
the stairs, blood running down the steps.
Sigrid had disappeared, as if she knew he would come after her.
Something relaxed in him as he closed his jaw gently around Amelie's
throat, accepting her surrender. A taste more bitter and rancid than Perry's
sweetness. But he accepted anyway.
— Salve Ithan, Primo dos Lobos Valbaranos — disse Amelie, alto o

enough for everyone to hear.
In response, a chorus of howls rose from across the Lair.
Then, the city. Then the desert beyond the city walls.
How from all Midgard or Saudasse.
When it ceased, Ithan tilted his wolf's head toward the sky and
howled. Of triumph, of mourning, of pain.
And when his howl stopped echoing, he could have sworn he heard the
scream of a male wolf echoing from the Bone Quarter itself.
Ruhn did not recognize the city itself.

Imperial warships occupied the entire Istros. Wolves appeared
Ferals roamed the streets. At 33 a accompanied by the Guard
Asteriana.
And Prados was still burning in the north, lines of smoke rising into the
blue sky.
But it was the silence that unnerved him most as he and Lidia walked
through the sewers, heading towards the Comitium. Flynn and Dec had split
off from them a few blocks earlier to examine the Aux headquarters in an
attempt to find out where Isaiah and Naomi might be. If they could intercept
them in the Comitium, it would save hours of searching.
Then would come the hard part: finding a safe place to meet with them,
with enough time to explain everything. But for now, the focus was on finding
the two members of Celestina's triary and trying not to get caught in the
process.
—This must open into a tunnel that will pass just below the Comitium, —
Ruhn said to Lidia, in a low voice. The sewers seemed empty, but in Crescent
Moon City there was always someone watching, listening.
“Once we're in the building, I can take us to their barracks,” she said.
— Are you sure you know where the cameras are…

She glanced at Ruhn.
— When Ephraim came to visit, it was my job to know where they were.
Both as Doe and as Agent Daybright. I could navigate this place blindfolded.
Ruhn sighed.
- All good. But when we get to the barracks…
— Then their shadows enter the scene, and we hide until Isaiah and
Naomi appear. Unless they're already there and we can find them both on
our own.
- Right. I understood. — He cracked his neck.
She looked at him.
— You seem… nervous.
He snorted.
— It's my first mission with my girlfriend. I want to make a good impression.
Her lips curved, and Ruhn led the way through another tunnel.
— Am I your girlfriend, then? she asked.

— Everything… is everything okay with you?
She gave the most sincere of smiles. It made her seem younger, lighter
—the person she could have been if Urd hadn't sent her down such a fucked
up path. It took his breath away thinking about it.
— Yes, Ruhn. Fine by me.

He smiled back, remembering how she scolded him
when they met by saying “Yes”, by being so casual.
Looking ahead, Ruhn saw that they were approaching a dented metal
door that read: Do Not Enter.
"Well, that's almost an invitation," he said, plucking a

Lidia laughs as she kicks the door.
***
Any joy Tharion might have had at smelling the familiar, alluring scent of the
river died at the sight of the Imperial warships on the Istros and the Omega
boats moored near them. And, next to Cais Preto… the SPQM Faustus. The
same omega boat they had barely managed to overtake in Ydra.
He did not dare venture to the north end of the city to see the damage in
Asphodel Meadows. That wasn't why they had come there and he knew that
nothing he saw would make him feel better. The city was eerily silent. As if
he was in mourning.
His face and hair were hidden by a soleball cap, Tharion glared at the
armada for so long while he was there, on the pier, that Sathia warned: — If
you keep looking like that, you'll draw
attention to us.
“I should get in the water and blow holes in the hulls of all these boats,”
Tharion grumbled.
- Focus. If you do this, we will not achieve our objective. — She looked
worriedly at the ships. — Which is beyond necessary.
— They are holding the city hostage.
— All the more reason to appeal to the Queen of Rio to welcome people.
Tharion found nothing but the coldest determination on Sathia's heart-

shaped face.
"You're right," he said, and then gave a low whistle and
waited.
An otter in a bright yellow vest jumped onto the dock, dripping water
everywhere. She stood on her hind legs in front of Tharion, her whiskers
twitching, spraying droplets of water.
Sathia smiled.
- Stop this. It will only encourage her to be cuter — Tharion murmured.
Sathia bit her lip, and as much as seeing that made him
Distracted, Tharion managed to compose himself and ordered the otter:
— Tell the River Queen that Tharion Ketos wants a meeting.
The mustaches twitched again.
“Please,” Sathia added.

Tharion avoided the urge to roll his eyes, but he also said: — Please. — He
fished out a gold coin. — And be quick, friend.
The otter took the coin with its little black fingers and turned it over. His eyes lit up
at the exorbitant sum. With a flick of its long tail, the animal leapt back into the turquoise
water with barely a ripple and disappeared.
Tharion watched her swim gracefully into the depths and then disappear into the
darkness of the Blue Court of the Deep. The small bright lights were the only sign of
life there.
- And now? — asked Sathia again, looking at the ships
of war moored in the river. If a soldier recognized Tharion...
He pulled his soleball cap lower.
—Now we hide in the shadows and wait.
***
“This doesn't seem safe,” Ember complained for the fifth time as Bryce stood in front of
the Northern Rift arch. Hunt waited ten paces behind her, his feathers freezing. — It
seems to me the opposite of safe. You are opening the Northern Rift to Hell. And we're
supposed to believe that these demons, the princes, for Urd's sake… are good?
— I'm not sure they're any good. But they are on our side.
Trust me, Mom,” Bryce said.
“Trust her, Ember,” Randall pleaded, but from the tension in his voice, Hunt knew
he wasn't very happy either.
“Whenever you're ready, Athalar,” Bryce called.
— I thought you didn't need me to fuel you anymore.
Even more so with all this extra power he has now — said Hunt.
“I don't want to try to do this alone,” Bryce said. — It seems too risky to test my
new skills right now.
“I bet you could do it,” Hunt shouted over the wind.

-, but everything is fine. On three. — Bryce stopped, straightening his shoulders.
Hunt gathered his lightning. Praying to all the gods, even though they
had only screwed up his life until then. The power of lightning was familiar,
but it suddenly felt strange. Hellfire, as Apollion called it.
Answers—at least, answers to who and what he was, why he, and no
one else, had that lightning. Even the thunderbirds, created by Hell, had
been hunted to extinction by the asteri. With Sofie's death, in fact, they
disappeared.
Although the resurrection of the Harpy, another thing he was guilty of,
suggested that the Asteri now had other methods of raising the dead.
Only if they could get their hands on more of his lightning.

He would rather die.
“One,” Hunt whispered and raised his hand wrapped in lightning.
Lightning Lord, the Oracle called him.

- Two…
Had the Oracle seen, on that day, what he was, where his power
came from?
You remind me of that long lost. Thunderbirds, hunted to extinction.
Was it the wind rustling her parka, or was Bryce shivering as he

awaited the blow? Hunt didn't give himself a moment to reconsider. To
stop.
- Three.
He threw the lightning at his partner.
Just as it had happened that day in the Asteri palace, when she leapt from her world
to another, Hunt's lightning passed through Bryce's back and the Horn, striking the
star in his chest—and the Gate.
Ember screamed in fear, and even Randall took a step back, but
Hunt let the lightning flow to Bryce, maintaining a flow
constant.
“Open it,” ordered Bryce, his voice carried by the wind. A track
of darkness began to spread in the middle of the Gate.
Hunt channeled more lightning into it, and the gap widened, inch by inch.
The Northern Rift had been fixed on Hell—until that moment. Until his power
passed not only through Bryce's Horn, but also through the star on his chest—that
link to a different world. Reorient the Gate, as on that day in the Eternal Palace, to
open elsewhere. That was their theory, at least. No one has ever tried to manipulate
the Northern Rift to open somewhere other than Hell, but…
— That's enough, Hunt — warned Ember.

Hunt ignored her and sent another spike of power to his partner.
Bryce's hair fluttered against the snow and ice, but she maintained an
eerie calm until emptiness filled the entire enormous Gate.
Hunt cut through the lightning and ran to where Bryce stood before
from the wall of darkness.
Darkness dappled by starlight.
A female with golden brown hair was sitting on a
armchair in front of a fireplace on the other side. All that darkness was the
starry night beyond the windows.
His face was a picture of pure shock when Bryce
He raised his hand in greeting and
said, “Hello, Nesta.”
***
The River Queen sat in a chair in front of a computer panel in the control
room, connected to the western airlock, on a makeshift throne in the sterile,
functional space. The technician operating the computer had vacated the
chamber almost running at the queen's command.
Tharion was well aware that the airlock could easily be washed to remove
any and all traces of blood. A body expelled from that would go straight to
the sobeks circling outside like reapers.
If Sathia noticed these details, if she understood that she and Tharion
had been taken there just for the convenience of getting rid of the corpse,
she didn't let on.
The wife curtsied, a graceful movement that did nothing to match the
casual leggings and white sweater, the cashmere dirty and torn at the bottom
hem.
— Your Majesty, it is an honor to meet you — said Sathia, her voice
refined but not at all threatening.
The River Queen's dark eyes swept over Sathia.
— Should I open my arms to the female who usurped my daughter?
Sathia didn't even flinch.
—If my union with Tharion has brought sorrow or offense, then

I offer my sincere apologies.
A second, too long to be comforting. Tharion looked at the River Queen
and noticed her watching him. The cold, cruel look. Not impressed.
— I assume you really want something from me, if you came back
to risk my wrath,” said the River Queen.
Tharion lowered his head.
— Yes, Your Majesty.
— And yet you brought your wife… for what? To calm me down? Or as a
shield to hide?
"Considering it barely touches my chest," said Tharion,
dry —, I don't think it would serve as a shield.
Sathia glared at him, but the River Queen frowned.
— Always making jokes. Always making a fool of himself. — She waved
her hand adorned with shell and coral rings toward Sathia. — I suppose I
should wish you congratulations on your marriage, but instead I wish you good
luck. With a male like that for a husband, you're going to need it.
— I thank you — said Sathia with such sincerity that Tharion almost
believed it too. — May your good wishes reach Urd's ears. — Okay, maybe
he underestimated his wife, who seemed more comfortable in this environment
than he was.
In fact, the River Queen seemed quite intrigued by the
Sathia's elegance when put to the test, then saying:
— Well, Tharion. Let's hear what is so important that you dared to enter
my kingdom again.
He clasped his hands behind his back, exposing his chest as he knew the
River Queen preferred. He didn't see the jagged sea glass knife anywhere,
but he knew it was always in his hand.
weapon.
— I am here on behalf of Bryce Quinlan, Queen of the Valbaran Fae and

Avallen, to request asylum in the Blue Court for the people of Crescent Moon
City.
Another long pause.
—Queen, huh? — asked the River Queen. — Of the Valbaran Fae and Avallen?
— Her eyes slid to Sathia, representative of the fae, she supposed.
Sathia lifted her chin.

— Bryce Quinlan now rules both territories. I serve
her, as well as Tharion.
Eyes as black and deep as a shark's slid toward Tharion. The same eyes as
her sister, the Queen of the Ocean, he realized.
—Should I be pleased to know that you have defected once again?
— I did what my morals demanded — said Tharion.

— Morals — reflected the Queen of Rio. — What morals do you have other
than ensuring your own survival at any cost? Was it your morals that guided you
when you took my daughter's virginity, vowed to love her until she died, and then
toyed with her affections for the next decade?
Holy shit. But Sathia answered for him with that unshakable calm:
— These were the mistakes of youth... Tharion reflected and learned

with these errors.
The Queen of Rio turned her attention to Sathia again.

— Did you reflect? Or was it the poisoned honey he spilled on his
ear to woo her?
“He brought me to you. Proof that you are willing to take on the
own actions — countered Sathia.
It took a special person to speak that way to the Queen of Rio. Not to retreat an
inch, not to tremble before her power, her eternal face.
The River Queen narrowed her eyes, obviously thinking what

same.
—And this Queen Bryce considered Tharion the best emissary
to beg me for such a huge favor?
Sathia didn't lower her chin.
— She remembered how brave and selfless Tharion and his people were in
sheltering innocent people here, safely, during the attack
this spring.
Damn, she was good.
The River Queen waved her hand toward the window overlooking
to the depths and the monsters that prowled beyond.
—And she can give me a good reason not to kill Tharion
right now and send his body to the beasts in the river?
Sathia didn't even look at the hovering sobeks.
— Because he is now in the service of Queen Bryce. If you kill him, you'll
have to deal with the fae.
A display of small pointy teeth.
—They will have to reach the Depths first.
Sathia didn't miss a beat.
— I believe it would not be in your interest to become a city under siege.
By the gods, his wife was brave. Tharion wisely showed no reaction, but
for Ogenas, if they survived this encounter, he would ask Sathia to teach him
those techniques.
The River Queen laughed mockingly, but tilted her head before saying
change the subject.
— How does the girl have so much power in her hands, all of a sudden?
— She’s the one who has to tell this story — said Sathia, folding her
hands behind her back — but she has powerful allies.
In this world and in others.
- Others?
Tharion dared to speak, transforming his voice into a mirror of his wife's
balanced calm:
— Bryce considers the Princes of Hell as allies.
—So she is an enemy of Midgard. And an idiot too, if she's trying to hide
the people of this city from the demons she's going to ally herself with.
— She does not seek to hide people from Hell, but rather from the wrath
dos asteri,” Tharion explained.
The River Queen glared at him.
— You are asking me to stand against the Republic itself.

“What happened in Asphodel Meadows was a disgrace,” Tharion

said, his voice dangerously low. — If you don't take a stand against the
Republic for something of this nature, then you are complicit in their
slaughter.
Sathia gave Tharion a warning look, but the River Queen considered
him. As if I hadn't actually seen him until then.
She opened her mouth and hope rose in Tharion's chest...

But then the inner door of the room opened and the River Queen's
daughter entered, anger and sadness wrinkling her beautiful face as
she
shouted, "How could you do this?"
***
—Is she a Prince of Hell? — Ember whispered a few steps behind

Bryce, her teeth chattering from the cold.
— Does she look like a prince? — Randall hissed back, the snow
crackled as he hopped from one foot to the other to keep warm.
— Bryce said Aidas appeared to her as a cat, so you'll know...
“Guys,” Bryce murmured as Nesta slowly got up from her armchair

by the fireplace. Somehow, a dagger appeared in the female's hand,
as if it were hidden under the pillow.
It had worked. They managed to open the Northern Rift to a place

other than Hell.
- What are you doing? Nesta asked, and at that moment Bryce
realized that no one else could understand her. Which left Bryce in
charge of the translation.
Then Bryce whispered to Hunt, wide-eyed but ready to spring into
action:
- Just a minute. — And he looked at Nesta. — I won't hurt you
you, nor your world,” Bryce said in Nesta’s language.
— Then why is there a giant portal in my living room? — Nesta’s
blue-gray eyes glowed violently.
predatory. A little of that silver flame was beginning to grow at his fingertips. Could
it withstand Bryce's starfire?
Especially with the strength of that power leveled in his body behind it?
But she hadn't come there for that.

— I needed to talk to you.
— How did you know I would be alone?
- I did not know. It was Urd's grace.
The dagger and silver flame did not disappear.
— Close the Portal.
— Not until I say what I need to say.
The silver flame flickered in Nesta's eyes.
—Then say it and go away. — His gaze dropped to Bryce's side. —And leave
the dagger you stole.
Bryce ignored the request and swallowed hard.
Ember hissed at Randall, “I don't
think it's going well.
Randall silenced her.
But Nesta's eyes slid to Hunt, to the wings
feathered, the lightning dancing in his hand, the halo on his forehead.
— Is this your partner?
Bryce nodded and motioned for Hunt to step forward.
—Hunt Athalar. —She would never use Danaan again. To any
one of them.
Hunt approached and tilted his head. Bryce could have sworn that lightning
flashed in his eyes, as if the power he had summoned, enough to open the
Northern Rift, was completely overwhelming him.
But Nesta just watched him imperiously and then turned to Bryce.
- What do you want?

Bryce straightened his shoulders.
— I need you to give me the Mask.
— Is it a request or a threat? — Nesta asked softly, and even with a

portal between them, the ground seemed to shake with the female's
power. — It's a
plea. A desperate fucking plea,” Bryce replied, exposing his palms to
Nesta in supplication. — I need the Mask to have an advantage against
the asteri. To destroy them.
— No. — Nesta's eyes showed no mercy. —Now close the portal and
get lost. — She looked over her shoulder, to where the stars seemed to
be fading in the distance. — Before the High Lord arrives and tears you
to pieces.
- What is that? — asked Hunt, indicating the approaching darkness.
“Rhysand,” Bryce replied, then turned to Nesta: “Please. I don't need

the Masquerade forever. Just… until this is over.
Then I return it.
Nesta laughed coldly.
— You expect me to trust a female who tried to trick us and get the
better of us at every opportunity that came her way?
AND
— It's true that I got the better of it, yes — Bryce replied coldly, and
Nesta's eyes shone with the provocation — but that's beside the point.
Look, I get it… the Masquerade is incredibly powerful and dangerous. I
also wouldn't trust someone who asked me to use the Horn. But my world
needs it.
Nesta was silent.
Darkness approached, stealthily. It was possible to feel the fury
emanating from her, along with a primordial anger. Bryce stepped forward,
and Nesta's dagger tilted upward.
“Please,” Bryce said again. — I promise I will return the Mask… and
the Truth-Revealer. After doing what I have to do here.
— You must think I'm a fool if you believe I'm going to hand you one of
the most lethal weapons in my world. Especially considering that the
monsters in her world have been wanting to get their hands on her and the
other Nefarious Treasures for millennia. Not to mention that few people
can survive after using the Mask. If you use it, you could end up dying.
"It's a risk I'm willing to take," Bryce said with

calm.
— And I'm supposed to trust that you, after everything you've done here, will
return the Masquerade just because you swear from the bottom of your heart?
Bryce nodded.
- That.
Nesta let out a humorless laugh, looking into the darkness.
which was getting closer and closer.
— I just need to wait for him to get here, you know. Then you'll wish
you had closed the portal.
“I know,” Bryce agreed, feeling a lump in his throat, “but I'm begging
you. The asteri just wiped out an entire human community in my city.
Families. — Tears burned in his eyes and the cold wind threatened to
freeze them. — They killed children. To punish me. To punish my partner,”
Bryce gestured to Hunt, “for escaping their clutches. This needs to stop…
this needs to be stopped somewhere.
The cold anger in Nesta's eyes faltered.

Bryce couldn't stop the tears from streaming down his cheeks, tears
that instantly turned to ice.
— I know you don't trust me, there's no reason to trust me, but I
promise I'll return the Mask. I brought a guarantee… to prove that my
intentions are good. That I will return, yes.
And with that, Bryce called on his parents to move forward. Ember
and Randall gave her wary looks, but approached the portal.
Doing that broke Bryce's heart, but she told Nesta firmly:
— These are my parents, Ember Quinlan and Randall Silago. I'm

giving them both to you... to stay in your world, until I destroy the asteri
and give you back the Mask.
Nesta widened her eyes, shocked, but soon recovered,
straightening your shoulders.
— What if you die trying?
— Then my parents will be safer trapped in their world than mine.
—But the Mask will be on yours. In the hands of the asteri.

— I have nothing more important to offer you than
That's it,” Bryce replied, his voice cracking.
— It's not about offering me anything.
Bryce choked back a sob, and her parents turned to their daughter,
confused and trusting her, feeling angry at her without knowing why.
“Bryce,” Hunt said, keeping an eye on the approaching storm.

— We have to close the connection.
Only Hunt knew the horrible thing she was doing. How it had ended
with her having to leave Cooper behind, because it would have been
too suspicious to insist that he go on such a dangerous mission. But
Baxian, Fury, and June would take care of him… and Syrinx.
“Bryce,” his mother called. - What is happening?
Bryce couldn't hold back the tears as he looked at his mom and
dad. Maybe for the last time.
“Nothing,” she replied, looking back at Nesta.
"If you don't give me the Mask," she said to the female. —, of any
way take them with you.
Nesta was left without a reaction.
“Take my parents,” Bryce repeated, his voice breaking. — They have
no idea why they are here, or who you are or what your world is like. They
think I'm talking to someone at That's all I ask.
Hell. But take them and keep them safe.
Nesta analyzed Bryce, then the girl's parents. He placed the dagger
on the side table near the chair.
— You would leave them in my world… to perhaps never see them
again.
“I would,” Bryce confirmed. — I need Hunt to help me against the asteri,
but my parents are human. They will be easy targets for the asteri… they
are already being hunted. They are good people. — She fought back
another sob. — They are the best people.
“Bryce,” Randall said, with a warning tone in his voice that said he had
seen the encroaching darkness and knew there was something wrong with
that plan.
However, Bryce couldn't look at his parents. Just for Nesta.
The silver fire in the female's gray-blue eyes dimmed, then disappeared.
Nesta held out her hand to Bryce, something golden glinting there.
To Mask.
— If it's going to bring you anything good — Nesta said quietly, you —,
can borrow it.
When the female looked at Bryce's parents, it was clear: she would
accept the guarantee.
Bryce swallowed.
— What the fuck is this? murmured Hunt, as if he could feel the ancient
power of unfathomable depth emanating from the Mask in Nesta's hand.
“Thank you,” Bryce replied, extending his hand toward Nesta.
She could have sworn that the world itself, all the worlds, shook when
Nesta's hand reached inside her.
Midgard and handed the Mask to Bryce.

Then the thing was in Bryce's gloved hand, and it was unholy and empty
and cruel... but the light in his chest seemed to purr with the object's presence.
Bryce stuffed it into his jacket, zipping it up. The thing reverberated
against his body, the archaic heat echoing in his bones. His starlight seemed
to flicker in response. As if whatever piece of Theia remained inside knew
the Mask and was happy to find it again.
“Thank you,” Bryce repeated.

Darkness was already shrouding the city beneath Nesta's window.
“Good luck,” Nesta whispered.

Bryce inclined his head in thanks, and with a subtle nod to Hunt…
His power struck her parents. Not a flash of lightning, but a gust of wind
at their backs, pushing them through the portal, across the Northern Rift, into
Nesta's world.
— Bryce! — screamed his mother, stumbling… but Bryce didn't wait.
He maintained silence as he commanded the Horn to break the
connection, destroying the bridge between the worlds. The last image he
had was of darkness, of Rhysand's power, colliding with the windows of
Nesta's room, her mother's indignant face, Randall reaching for the rifle...
The snow and fog returned. The Rift has been closed. And the parents of
Bryce were on the other side of her.
Bryce's knees wobbled. Hunt placed his hand on her elbow.
— We need to get out of here.

She was wearing the Mask. With the Horn. And with the light of Theia. AND
with the blades. It would have to be strong enough to face living gods.
“Bryce, we need to go,” Hunt repeated, more firmly. — Can you teleport
us back to the wall?
It must have been a relief for Bryce to know that her parents were in that
other world, with people she had discovered were
decent and kind, but her mother would never forgive her. Randall would
never forgive her. Not just for throwing them into that world, but for
leaving Cooper behind.
“What the fuck,” Hunt hissed, and Bryce turned away as he forced
his body behind his.
Just in time for the Harpy, coated in white to camouflage itself in the
snow, burst out of the mists. Even the black wings had been painted
white to go unnoticed.
Amid the billowing mists, she was as horrible as Bryce remembered,
but her face… there was no trace of life or consciousness there. She
was a carcass, a host, with a single mission: to kill.
Any hope of Tharion achieving his goal was dashed when the River
Queen's daughter threw herself into her mother's lap, sobbing.
— Did you marry her?

They were the only words he could make out through his tears.
Sathia just stared at the girl, as if she had run out of any courtesy
they could use to their own advantage. The River Queen stroked her
daughter's dark hair, murmuring gentle words, but her eyes burned with
absolute hatred for Tharion.
— I… — began Tharion, but he couldn't find the right words.
The River Queen's daughter raised her head when she heard his
voice, her face wet with tears. The river outside trembled, shaking the
Blue Court.
— You sold yourself to a fae bitch? — She sniffed in Sathia’s
direction. —With earth in your veins? Without even a drop of water as
an attraction?
Sathia listened to the insults, her face impassive, giving him a

glimpse of the way she had been treated her entire life. That didn't
please him at all.
It was enough to prompt him to respond:
— Her magic is to make things grow, it's about life and beauty. No
to drown or suffocate.
The River Queen's daughter stood up slowly.
— You dare talk to me like that?
And with her petulant fury, with her mother's anger... He had
already had enough of that. I had already fucked that up.
Tharion pointed to the window. Not to the sobeks, but to the
surface too far to be seen.
— There are imperial warships in that river! The Asphodel
Meadows turned into burning rubble, with the bodies of children lying
in the streets!
He had never screamed like that. With no one, least of all with his
former queen and princess. However, he could not stop the utter
anger and despair that exploded from him.
“And all you care about is who a damn male married?” There are
babies in that rubble! And you just sit there shedding tears for yourself!
Sathia's jaw dropped, the expression on her face sending him a

warning signal, but Tharion was speaking directly to the River Queen.
“Bryce sent me here to beg for your help, but I'm also asking you
for me. Not as a merman, not as someone from the Blue Court, but
as a living being who loves this city.
There is no other place in Valbara that can weather the storm. This
place, the Depths… can at least withstand the first impact. Offer a
safe haven to the children of Crescent Moon City. A chance. If you
don't want the entire population to come, at least shelter the children.
— No — whimpered the River Queen's daughter. — You used me

and discarded me. You have no right to ask us, the Blue Court, for
such favors.
— I'm sorry — Tharion replied. — I'm sorry for having deceived you,
for having slept with you, and for having realized too late that I had gone
too far. I'm sorry for dragging you around for years... I didn't know how
to talk to you, or be an adult, and I'm sorry. It wasn't right of me, it was
immature, and I hate what I did to you, I hate that I did that to someone.
She glared at him, sniffling.

Tharion continued:
— I married Sathia to get her out of a shitty situation.
King Morven of Avallen was forcing her to marry an ignorant fae, the
only options were to face the wrath of the asteri and die or marry. I
offered her a way out. Marry me. Helping a female in trouble was
something I owed my sister. Our marriage is not about how I feel about
you or her.
—And the fact that she's a fey beauty didn't influence her.
nothing to your decision? — sneered the daughter of the Queen of Rio.
— No — Tharion replied sincerely. — I… — He looked at his wife,

who really was beautiful. Beautiful. But that hadn't weighed on his
decision to offer help. — She was a person in trouble, who needed help.
The daughter of the Queen of the River was foaming with rage.
Tharion continued: — But if you welcome the people of this city, if
you shelter them against whatever storm the Asteri may bring... when
this is over, if I'm alive... — he said, his voice breaking, and he kept his
gaze in hers. — I divorce my wife and marry you.
Sathia quickly turned to him, but Tharion couldn't face her, he couldn't
bear to see her reaction when she heard how he would abandon her
too...
The River Queen's daughter sniffed, a child calming down
after a tantrum.
- Accepted. I will marry you when you get rid of her.
— No, he won't get married. — The voice of the Queen of the River shook the
room, the river. — My daughter does not accept this proposal. Me neither.
Tharion's chest felt tight.
“Please,” he begged. — If I could only…
“I'm not done talking yet,” she interrupted, raising her hand.
Tharion fell silent, obediently. — I no longer want my daughter to be linked to
someone like you, neither by will nor by promise.
As far as marriage between you is concerned, it will never happen.
- Mother…
— Now you are your wife's problem — said the Queen of the River to Tharion.
He closed his eyes as he felt the burning in them, hating it, hating that he had
lost this opportunity, that safe haven for the people of Crescent Moon City,
because of his own stupid behavior.
"But your willingness to sacrifice your freedom to live on the Surface is no

small feat," the River Queen continued. Then she tilted her head to the side, and
one of the shells in her hair grew legs and slid under her braids. A hermit crab.
— You never asked why I sent you to look for Sofie Renast's body, and to find
her brother.
Tharion opened his eyes and saw her looking at him curiously. No
with kindness, but with something similar about it.
— No... it wasn't my place to question — replied the merman.
— You're afraid of me, like anyone with intelligence is — she concluded, a
little smugly. —But I also have my fears. Of this world, at the mercy of the asteri.
Tharion tried not to look too shocked.

— Our people are ancient — said the River Queen. — My sisters and I
remember a world before the asteri arrived and made the land's magic wither.
Entire islands disappeared into the sea, and our civilizations went with them. And
although we had limited power to stop them… we tried, each of us in our own
way.
Her daughter was looking at her as if she didn't recognize her.
However, the Queen of Rio continued: —
We remember the power that the thunderbirds wielded. How the asteri hunted
them because they were afraid of them. And when I found out they had killed
one, her thunderbird brother on the loose... I knew the asteri would try to get them
back at any time.
cost. I may not have known why, but I had no intention of letting them capture either Sofie
or her brother.
Tharion was left without a reaction.
— You… were you after them to stop the asteri?
She nodded subtly.
— It might not have made a difference in a larger context, but keeping them safe was
my attempt, however modest, to thwart the Asteri's plans.
Tharion didn't know what to do other than bow his head and admit: — Emile wasn't
a thunderbird, just a human. He's hiding now.
—And you hid it from me.

The river shook because of her displeasure.
— I thought it would be better for the boy to disappear into the
world completely.
The ruler analyzed his face again for a long time.
— I see the male you are — stated the River Queen, and it was the gentlest tone he
had ever heard coming from her. — I see the male you will become. — She nodded to
Sathia. — Who sees a female in trouble and doesn't think about the consequences for
himself before helping. — Another nod, serious and contemplative. — I would have liked to
see more of this male here. I wish you had been that male for my daughter, but if you are
that male now, and you are that male for the good of this city…” She waved her hand, and
the sobeks swam away in a silent command. —Then the Blue Court will help. Whoever we
can get here before the warships find out... Anyone, from any House: I will shelter them.
***
The Harpy was terrifying. Hunt could feel her absence. The emptiness emanating from her.
The Asteri had risen from the dead, but left their souls aside.
They had avoided the necromancers, who used someone's soul for
resurrection, and instead had created a perfect soldier to be stationed there:
one who felt neither cold nor hunger, and who had no scruples whatsoever.
And all of this had come from his lightning. From your Hellfire. He knew,
deep down, that it wasn't his fault, but… he had given Rigelus that lightning bolt.
And that had created the nightmare in front of him.

Rigelus must have guessed they would go to the Northern Rift, and planted
the Harpy there to lie in wait.
Hunt triggered the lightning, making the mists glow eerily around him, but
Bryce muttered, “What did they do to you?”
The Harpy didn't respond. He showed no sign that he had heard or that he
cared. As if he had lost his voice. Identity itself.
“Fry that shit,” Bryce said to Hunt, and he didn't miss a beat.
time to send a cloud of lightning towards the Harpy.
She dodged, her white-painted wings quick as
Always…
No, they hadn't been painted white. They had turned white.
As if whatever the asteri had done to her, with the help of Hunt's lightning, had
faded the color of her wings.
Hunt fired another bolt of lightning, then another, and it could have lit up the
entire fucking sky if it weren't for that shitty halo...
— Athalar! — A familiar male voice rumbled from the mist.
above them.
Hunt didn't dare take his eyes off the Harpy when he recognized the voice.
Isaiah.
— What the fuck... — said an equally familiar female voice.
Naomi.
But it was the third voice, coming from behind him as the person
landed in the snow, which sent chills through Hunt's body.
—But what new horror is this?
The governor of Valbara had arrived.
***
Bryce didn't know which was worse: Celestina or the Harpy. The female
who had stabbed them in the back or the one who had literally tried to slit
Ruhn's throat.
She and Hunt couldn't handle two enemies at once... not in freezing
temperatures, completely exhausted after opening the Rift, with the mists
obscuring almost everything.
The Harpy attacked, and Hunt released the lightning so fast that only
the most agile of angels could dodge the attack. The Harpy did it and
threw himself down, mist sliding off his white wings, heading straight for
Bryce. She rolled out of the way, and the Harpy fell to the ground, snow
exploding around her, but soon she was back on her feet, hurtling toward
Bryce.
Isaiah hit the Harpy with a wall of wind, knocking her back, but
Celestina was less than a meter away, and Hunt was already spinning to
face her...
Bryce unzipped his thick jacket, the cold wind quickly biting his skin.
She took the Mask.
And he gave no warning before placing the icy gold on the
face.
***
Wearing the Mask was like being underwater, or at a very high altitude.
Bryce's head filled with the thing's power, his blood vibrated, pulsing in
harmony with the presence in his head, in his bones. The world seemed
to dilute itself to its basic essence: alive or dead. She was alive, but with
the Masquerade, she could even escape her own death and live forever.
The light in his chest hummed, gladly receiving the power

like an old friend.
Bryce pushed the revulsion aside. Hunt was preparing the lightning to
attack Celestina, the mists sparkling with each crackle, and the Harpy
had broken through Isaiah's power and was heading toward Bryce again...
“Stop,” Bryce commanded the Harpy.

It was his voice, but at the same time it wasn't.
The Harpy stopped in place.
Everyone stopped in place.
“Bryce,” Hunt whispered, but it sounded distant to her.
He was alive, and now she was dealing with the dead.
- Get down on your knees.
The Harpy fell to his knees in the snow.

Celestina began to speak: —
What an evil weapon you have…
“I'll take care of you later,” Bryce interrupted in that voice that resonated
through her and left ripples in the fog.
Even the archangel remained silent as Bryce approached the Harpy. She
looked down on that narrow, abominable face.
Without any soul.
A body without a pilot.
Bryce was overcome with a feeling of pure horror, despite the Masquerade's
unholy embrace. Perhaps it was a merciful act, she thought as she looked at the
Harpy's empty, angry face. Perhaps it would be a merciful act to do so.
There was no soul to cling to, to command. Only

body. However, the Mask seemed to understand what was needed.
“Your work is done,” Bryce said, his voice reverberating across the frozen
landscape. - Rest in peace.
It was nauseating… and yet a relief to watch the Harpy close its eyes and
collapse to the ground. The skin began to waste away, the body regaining the
form it had known in death.
The cheekbones sank, collapsing onto the Harpy's face. Bryce knew that
beneath the angel's white armor, her body would be doing the same thing.
When the Harpy lay dissected in the snow, Bryce finally removed the Mask...
and saw Naomi, Isaiah and Celestina staring at her, overcome with shock and
terror.
— Nothing done — Ruhn said on the cell phone as he and Lidia once
again snaked through the sewers — they weren't in the Triarians'
private tents. We wait for hours, but they are deserted. No one
coming or going. Judging by Isaiah and Naomi's rooms, there are
days when no one goes there.
Lidia walked forward, her neck bent forward as she checked the
burner cell phone she had taken with her from the Freighter of the
Deep… years ago, it seemed.
— So what do we do? asked Flynn. — Are we still waiting? Dec
managed to hack Aux's computers while I checked the area, but
didn't find anything about their movements either. It doesn't even
seem like Aux knows they're gone.
With the Asteri willing to punish anyone caught associating with

them, it had been safer to watch Aux from afar rather than speak
directly to anyone. Not to mention the risk of ending up being ratted
out to the asteri by someone with intentions of moving up the
hierarchy.
Ruhn stopped to think.
— If Isaiah and Naomi are missing, Celestina
You probably want their absence to go unnoticed.
In the background, Declan

asked, “Do you think she killed
them?” “It's possible,” Ruhn replied when Flynn put the call on speaker.
— Let's go back there tomorrow, see if we can find out anything else. You
two stay alert for any sign of them.
Check the squares where the crucifixions take place.
“Holy shit,” Flynn muttered.
— I'll try to access Comitium's security footage —
offered Dec. — Maybe there's something there that can shed some light for us.
Ruhn sighed.
- Take care. We'll meet at sunset... at the far northeast part of the
intersection, just beyond the shooting range.
“Understood,” Flynn and Dec replied and ended the call.
Ruhn and Lidia walked about another block through the silence and the
stench before he said:
— You once put me to sleep with a story, about a
witch who turned into a monster.
— What's wrong?
She cast him a sideways glance. — Is
it a real story, or did you make it up?
— It was a story my mother told me — she replied softly. — The only
one I remember her telling me when I was a kid before she… gave up on me.
He had been about to ask if the similarities between the evil prince and
Pollux, the gentle knight and himself, had been prophetically intended, but
with the sadness in her voice…
— I'm sorry you had to go through that, Lidia. I can't even think about
doing that to a child. The idea of letting my own daughter go into the arms of
a stranger...
— But I did it — she interrupted, looking straight ahead, into space. —
What my mother did to me, I did exactly the same thing to my children.
He felt his heart clench at the pain and guilt in her voice.
— You entrusted your children to a good family…
- I did not know that. I had no idea who they would live with.
—But the alternative was to take them with you.

— Maybe I should have taken it. Maybe I should have fled to the
jungle with them and lived there in hiding forever.
—What kind of life would that have been? You gave them a real,
happy life on the Freighter of the Deep.
—A real mother would have…
— You are a real mother — he said, holding her hand and making
her turn towards him. — Lidia, you made an impossible choice: you
decided to protect your children, even though it meant you wouldn't see
them grow up. Damn, if that doesn't make you a real mother, then I
don't know what does.
A flash of pain flashed across her face, and Ruhn hugged her as
she leaned against his chest.
— They were the only thing that kept me going — she confessed.
— What got me through all the horrors was knowing that they were both
there, safe, and that my choices guaranteed that for them.
He ran his hand down Lidia's back, reveling in the feel of her body,
offering whatever comfort he could. The two stayed like that for long
minutes, just hugging each other.
— I told you once — she said against his chest — that you remind
me that I'm alive.
Ruhn kissed the top of Lidia's head in response, feeling her silky
golden hair against his mouth.
“For a long time, I wasn't,” she continued. — I did my job as the Doe,
as Daybright… all of this to keep my children safe and do what I thought
was right, but I didn't feel anything. Most days I was almost a specter,
occupying the shell of a body. But then I met you, and it was like I was
back in my own body. As if I… woke up. — She stepped back, analyzing
his face. — I don't think I was truly awake until I met you.
He smiled at her, his heart too full for words.

Then he kissed her gently, with love.
She placed her hand in his as they walked forward, but Ruhn stopped
her again, long enough to tilt Lidia's head back and kiss her again.
— I know we still have some things to resolve — he said, leaning

against her mouth — but... girlfriend, lover, whatever you want to be,
I'm in.
Her lips curved against his in a smile.
— I thank Urd every day that Cormac asked you
be my contact.
Ruhn walked away, smiling.

— I still owe you a beer.
“If we survive this, Ruhn, I'll buy you a beer.
Ruhn smiled again and put his arm around her waist as they walked into
the dim light. They walked in warm, comfortable silence for several blocks
before Lidia's cell phone vibrated and she took it out of her pocket to check
the screen. — It's from the Freighter of the Deep — she
informed, stopping to open the message.
He watched her eyes dart across the screen…until they stopped.

Lidia's hands began to shake.
“Pollux,” she whispered, and Ruhn went still. She looked up at him, and
her look was one of total panic as she said: — He took my children.
***
Hunt didn't allow himself to think much about it… the unholy grandeur
of Bryce wearing the Masquerade. In what she had managed to do with
the Harpy.
He turned to Celestina, Isaiah and Naomi behind her, all dressed in
heavy winter gear. The white wings of Isaiah and the governor were almost
invisible against the snow.
Their faces, however, were tense and shocked.
- What are you doing here? Hunt asked.
- What is that? — Naomi whispered, ignoring the question, her eyes

fixed on the golden object in Bryce's hands.
“Death,” replied Isaiah, his face pale. —That mask… is death.
Hunt asked again: — What

are you doing here?
Isaiah looked back at Hunt.
— We were tracking that thing. — He gestured to the pile of clothes
that moments before had been the resurrected Harpy.
— Celestina's old contacts here reported that the guard post on the wall
had been attacked by some terrifying new thing, so we all came here
quickly, afraid that it was something from Hell...
— Why didn't they send a legion? asked Hunt, looking at the two
angels who were once his closest companions. — Why come yourselves?
— Because the Asteri told us to retreat — revealed Naomi —,

but someone still had to put an end to the carnage.
Hunt met Celestina's gaze, and the archangel's flawless face was
impassive.
— They're walking without a leash, right?
Her gaze lit up with anger.
— I regret what I did to you and yours, Hunt
Athalar, but it was necessary to…
“Spare me,” Hunt snapped. — You betrayed us and handed us over
to the asteri…
“Hunt,” Isaiah interrupted, raising his hand. — Look, there’s a lot of
resentment here…
— Grudge? — Hunt repeated, exploding. — I ended up in the fucking
dungeon because of her! — He pointed to the governor.
Bryce approached him, a comforting presence at his side.
He gestured to his forehead, barely visible because of the equipment. — I
have this halo on my forehead because of her!
Celestina just stood there, shaking.
— Like I said, I regret what I did. It cost me more than you know. —
She seemed to be blinking to contain her
tears. — Hypaxia… ended our relationship.

— What happened, your girlfriend didn't like the fact that you were a
two-faced snake? — replied Hunt.
“Hunt,” Bryce muttered, but he didn't care.
“You were supposed to be a good person,” Hunt continued, his voice
cracking. — You were supposed to be the good archangel, but you're even
worse than Micah. — He spat, and the saliva turned to ice before falling into the snow.
— At least he didn't hide it when he was messing with someone.
The lightning stirred in his veins, wanting to break free.
— Hunt — said Naomi — what the governor did was shit, but...
—She went against the orders of the asteri to come here — he added.
Isaiah. — Let's get out of the cold and talk...
“I'm done talking shit,” Hunt cut in, and his power stirred. — I've had
enough of archangels and your bullshit.
His lightning hissed through the snow. When his vision flashed, he
He knew that the lightning had forked in his eyes.
Celestina raised her gloved hands.
— I don't want to fight with you, Athalar.
“What a pity,” Hunt replied, and lightning slid across his tongue. — I
want to fight with you.
He didn't warn anymore before releasing the power on the archangel.
He gave his all, but it still wasn't enough. The power was choking because
of limitations, restricted by the halo.
A collar to restrain demons.
It hadn't worked on the princes. He wouldn't even allow it
to keep working on it.
Hunt let the power grow. The snow around him melted.
Apollion had bestowed the very essence, Hellfire, upon Hunt. And if
that made him a child of Hell, so be it.
Hunt closed his eyes and there he saw… the black strip of the halo,
engraved on his own soul. The shape of the thorn vine. The spell to
restrain him.
Everyone knew that the enslavement spell could not be undone.

Hunt had never tried, but he was fed up with following Asteri rules. To
follow anyone's rules.
Hunt stretched a mental hand toward the halo's black spikes. He
wrapped his fingers in lightning, in Hellfire, in the power that was his and
his alone.
And he cut the thing off.
The halo's spines trembled and bled. Black ink began to flow,
dissolving into nothingness, swallowed by the power that was emerging
in him at the moment, growing…
Hunt opened his eyes to see Isaiah slack-jawed, staring at him in fear
and wonder. The halo still staining his friend's forehead.
No more.
Knowing where it was, how to destroy it, made it easier. Hunt stretched
a tentacle of power towards Isaiah, and before his friend could retreat, he
cut the halo on his forehead with a line.
Isaiah hissed, staggering back. A thunderous and angry wind rose
from his feet as his halo also fell from the
head.
Celestina took turns looking between the two, terror written all over her face.
face.
—That's not... That's not...
“I suggest you run,” Hunt said, his voice so
freezing as the wind that whipped their faces.
However, Celestina straightened her posture. He remained firm. And
with a bravery that Hunt had not expected, she asked:
- Why are you here?
As if he would be distracted by the question, as if that were
delay the fate that awaited her…
Bryce answered for him:
— To open the Northern Rift to Hell.
Naomi turned to Bryce and replied: —
What?
Isaiah, too stunned by the halo's removal to pay much attention to the
conversation, stared at his hands, as if
could see the unbridled power they now wielded.

Celestina shook her head.
— You have lost your mind. — She planted her feet on the ground,
and a sparkling white power shone around her. — You want to fight
me, Athalar, go ahead, but you won't open the Rift.
— Oh, I think we will, yes — Hunt replied and then threw the
lightning at her.
The world tore apart as it collided with a wall of her power, and
Hunt released more lightning, the snow melting, the very stone beneath
them bending and warping as the lightning struck, and again and
again...
— Athalar! — Naomi shouted. —What the fuck…
Celestina propelled the power, a wall of brilliant wind.
Hunt sent the lightning himself through the barrier. He was fed up
with archangels. Of their hierarchies. Fed up with…
Isaiah put himself in the middle of the fight, raising his hands.
“Stop,” he said, and power shone in his friend's eyes. —Athalar,
stop.
—She deserves to die... all the damn archangels deserve it
die for what they did to us,” Hunt said through gritted teeth.
But it suddenly occurred to him that Bryce was no longer by his
side.
She was running back towards the Rift, starlight shining. Such an
intense glow… with the two other pieces of Theia's light now joined
with what Bryce had had since he was born, her light shined as brightly
as the sun. The sun was a star...
- No! — Celestina shouted, and her power erupted.

Hunt struck the archangel with the lightning so hard that it shattered
her power, sending her backwards into the snow with a thud.
Celestina's wings were spread out, flinging snow at
in all directions, blood running from her nose and mouth.
- Don't do that! — she cried to Bryce, and continued, panting: — I
spent years of my life preventing the Rift from being opened.
Find an alternative. Don't do that.
Bryce stopped in place, causing snow to fly to the sides because of his
abrupt stop. That magnificent light burned in her chest, casting a brilliant glare
on the snow. Breathing heavily, Bryce replied to the archangel: — The Princes
of Hell have offered help, and Midgard
needs that help, whether you know it or not. Hunt and I have already killed
two archangels. Don't make us kill her too.
Hunt looked at Bryce questioningly. As if

There was an alternative other than killing Celestina...
“You… You killed Micah and Sandriel,” he whispered.
Celestina.
— They were stronger than you — Hunt commented, I'm not —, then
putting much faith in their chances.
Hunt's lightning erupted around him, ready to attack,
to flay her from the inside out, as he had done to Sandriel.
But Celestina widened her brown eyes at his lightning, freed from its
bonds and spreading across the world. She had never fully seen what he
could do… hadn't had the chance in those weeks they had worked together.
— How come... how do you have the power of archangels when you're
not one? — she questioned.
“Because I am Umbra Mortis,” Hunt replied, his voice as implacable as the
ice around them.
And he had never felt more like a bearer of that title than when he was
there facing Celestina, and he knew that, with a blow to her heart, she would
be nothing more than flaming, bloody remains.
Celestina lowered her gaze and fell to her knees. As if she herself knew
too.
A cloud of pure, raw lightning rose over Hunt's shoulder, an asp ready to
strike. He looked at Bryce, waiting for confirmation to incinerate the archangel.
But Bryce looked at him sadly.

“You're not, Hunt,” she said softly, lovingly.
He didn't understand the words, leaving him without reaction.
Bryce took a step forward, the snow crunching beneath his feet.
— You are not Umbra Mortis — she stated. — Basically, it never was and
never will be.
Hunt pointed his lightning-encased finger at Celestina.
— She and her entire race should be exterminated from the face of
Midgard.
“Maybe,” Bryce replied gently, taking another step. A
Her starlight dimmed until it disappeared. —But not for you.
He felt disgusted. Never in his life had he hated Bryce, but
in that moment, with her doubting him, Hunt hated it.
—She doesn't deserve to die, Hunt.
— She fucking deserves it — he shot. — I remember each one of them…
all the angels who marched against us on Mount Hermon, the entire Senate,
the Asteri, and the archangels at my trial.
I remember them all, and she's no better than they were. She's no better than
Sandriel, than Micah.
“Maybe,” Bryce repeated, his voice still gentle, still soothing.
He hated that too. — No one is forgiving her, but she doesn't deserve to die,
and I don't want her blood on your hands.
— Where was all this mercy towards the Autumn King?
You didn't stop Ruhn at the time.
— The Autumn King had done nothing throughout that long and wretched
life except cause pain. He didn't deserve even a warning, let alone my mercy.
She Yes.
- Why? — He looked at his partner, his anger softening.
a little. - Why?
— Because she made a mistake — Naomi replied, taking a step forward
with a distressed expression. — And he's been trying to make things right
ever since. Isaiah and I didn't accompany her here because she ordered us
to. We wanted to help her.
Hunt pointed to the Rift just inches from Bryce.
—She will stop you from opening the Rift.
— I won't go — Celestina promised, keeping her head bowed.
- I surrender.
“Leave her alone, Hunt,” Bryce said.
“Morven surrendered, and you killed him,” Hunt shot back angrily.
“I know,” Bryce retorted. — And I'm going to have to live with that. I don't
want you to carry the same burden. Hunt… We already have enough
enemies. Leave her alone.
— I swear by Solas himself — Celestina pronounced, the greatest oath
an angel could invoke — that I will help you, if it is in my power.
— I won't take an archangel's word for it.

“Well, we're going to need that archangel,” Bryce warned, and the anger
de Hunt faded a little more as he looked at her again.
- Like this?
Bryce looked at the Harpy's body, half melted due to the collision
between Hunt's lightning and Celestina's power. The surrounding stone had
been deformed; his lightning had altered the stone itself. Bryce approached
Hunt, reaching out to hold his hand.
His lightning ran across Bryce's skin, but he didn't allow it to cause pain.
He would never hurt her.
“You said you're with me… all of you,” Bryce murmured, looking at him
and only him. — Leave the past behind. Focus on what's ahead. We have
a world to save, and I need my partner by my side to do it. No one else…
not a child of Hell, not Umbra Mortis, not even Hunt Athalar. I need my
partner. Just Hunt.
He saw it all in her eyes: that it didn't matter what happened, who he
was and what he had done; It didn't really matter to her. Being raised in Hell
didn't matter to her. But Bryce had captured who he was, deep down, in
those photos last spring. The person she had brought into the world. The
person she loved.
Yes Hunt.
So he left it aside. He set aside the lightning, death buzzing through his
veins. He left aside the mocking smiles of Apollion and Thanatos. He set
aside his anger at the archangel before him, and the archangels who were
before her.
Just Hunt. He liked that.
The lightning disappeared, hissing until it disappeared completely. And

he said to Bryce, as if she were the only person on Midgard, in any galaxy:
— I love you, Just
Bryce.
She giggled derisively and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.
— Now that you no longer intend to kill Celestina… — Bryce took

the Jacket Mask again. — Let's put together an army.
—What army? —Isaiah whispered.
“We're going to resurrect the Fallen,” Bryce replied, throwing the Mask
into the air and catching it again like it was a fucking soleball.
Hunt's knees gave way from the shock.

— You said we would use the Masquerade to fight the asteri.
— And let's go — confirmed Bryce, throwing the Mask up and catching
it again. — It's your problem if you didn't ask for details on how we're going
to use you against them.
No, he had assumed she would put on the Mask and that would give
her the advantage to kill them.
Hunt shook his head.
— You've lost your mind.
Bryce stopped throwing his mask up when he heard that, and replied
in a softer tone of voice: — We need a
distraction for the asteri. Hell won't be enough, but an army of the
dead, an army of the Fallen, will be just what we need. An army that will
not need to die again. And Isaiah and Naomi will lead them.
“That's why you sent Ruhn and Lidia to get them,” Hunt commented
quietly, still shocked.
Isaiah gave him a questioning look, but it was Bryce who responded,
“Yes. I
thought if we could get them here, and then get Nesta's Mask... maybe
it would work.
— But how are you going to resurrect them? — asked Hunt. Bryce had
told him that Nesta had used the bones of a beast. —Their bodies have
deteriorated…
“The asteri kept their wings,” Bryce said, disgust permeating every word.
— They kept their wings, like trophies. But as they didn't have Sailboats, I
think part of their soul may still be attached.
Hunt rubbed his frozen face.

— So what… Are you going to have a lot of wings to fly around?
She shot him a sharp look.

— No. Well, yes… but only to get them to where we need their souls.
— You said the Masquerade can resurrect dead bodies… not grant new
souls to bodies. “That's what I saw
Nesta doing,” Bryce revealed. —But the light of Theia…
Cupping her hands in front of her chest, she conjured the fiery and
beautiful light. It illuminated the mists, making the snow at his feet sparkle.
“Wow,” Naomi whispered.

What Bryce had taken from her chest that day during the attack last
spring was a fraction of the light she held there in her hands at the moment.
“This,” Bryce began, his face shining in the starlight, “seems to recognize
the Mask, somehow. When I wear the Mask, I can feel the attraction between
the two powers. Maybe it's something in Theia's light. I think you can
command the Mask to do… different things.
“This is not the time for experiments,” warned Hunt.

“I know,” Bryce admitted, “but I think it would only take a few of the dead
ones, and I could turn them into new ones.
Not give them a real life, but their souls would return… take on new forms.
Which is different… different from what the Asteri did to the Harpy.
—That mask really can resurrect the dead, so

— Naomi said hoarsely.
Bryce nodded.
— The Fallen would not receive new, living bodies, but rather… they
would be able to help us.
—But what kind of bodies, then? Isaiah asked, giving Hunt a nervous
look.
“The kind the asteri already made for us,” Bryce replied.
in a lower tone. — Perfect blends of magic and technology.
“The new mech-suits,” said Hunt. — Those who asteri them
left on Mount Hermon.
Bryce nodded seriously.
— I think Rigelus left those suits up there to tease you, but it's time to
blow the shit in his face.
Lidia said that the suits don't need pilots to work, so we don't need to
worry about any physical interference. Dec can hack their computer
system and block Imperial access while the souls of the Fallen merge
with the mech-suits and pilot them under Naomi and Isaiah's command.
But doing what she was suggesting…

“We can't do this,” Hunt murmured hoarsely, his wings hanging down.
— I can't ask them to die for us again, even if they are already dead. The
Fallen have already sacrificed too much.
Bryce walked over to him and held his hand.

— We need those suits being piloted by the Fallen, or they will be
used against us by the Asteri. We need the Asteri and their forces well
occupied.
But Hunt's heart was heavy.
— Bryce.
— It will be their decision to return or not, to pilot those suits or not. I
will give them the choice when I resurrect them. And I will be with you
every moment. — She nodded toward Isaiah and Naomi. —They will
command the Fallen. You no longer have to carry this burden. I will need
you with me… in the asteri palace.
He closed his eyes, taking in her scent. Celestina could

attacked at that moment, but the archangel remained on her knees.
And, just as he had done the day Hunt had given Sandriel what she deserved,
Isaiah suddenly knelt before him. Naomi did the
same.
“I'm not an archangel,” Hunt said firmly. - And I dont
I agreed to lead you two, so stand up.
It was Celestina who replied: —
Perhaps the era of the archangels has come to an end.
— You seem happy about it.
— I would stay, if it happened — Celestina confirmed, getting up. — I told you
once: Shahar was my friend. I may not have had the courage to fight alongside her
at the time…” She lifted her chin. —But now I do.
He didn't believe her.

— And what are you going to do in the meantime?
Bryce responded before Celestina could, “She's going to
Ephraim's fortress. — With Hunt and Celestina's surprised looks, Bryce
explained: — He's the closest archangel to the Eternal City. We need him to stay
busy. If Ephraim joins the fight, things get complicated.
Celestina nodded seriously.

— I'll make sure he doesn't reach a hundred and fifty
kilometers from the capital.
- As? — asked Hunt. — Tying him up?
— I'll do whatever it takes to put an end to this — Celestina said, chin up.
Hunt pointed to the Rift.

— Let's open the Rift to Hell. A moment ago you
She didn't seem excited about the idea.
Celestina looked from Hunt to Bryce.
— This goes against everything I've worked for, but... it really seems like
everything you two did was with the best interests of the innocent people of Midgard
in mind. I don't think you would open the Rift if it would put the most vulnerable in
danger.
- Oh yes? said Hunt. — And where were you when the
Did Asphodel meadows turn to dust in the explosion?
That made Bryce's gaze harden like ice. One

Genuine regret dawned on Celestina's expression.
“That was the final straw, Hunt,” said Isaiah. — That's why we… she…
disobeyed the asteri. They didn't give any warning. The ships docked at Istros
and said it was for our protection.
I didn't even know that ships could send aerial missiles from that distance.
Naomi's eyelashes were pearly with tears that soon turned to ice when
she added: — It was the most cowardly,
unforgivable thing... We don't agree with
that. None of us. Not Celestina, and certainly not the 33rd.
Hunt looked at Bryce and saw only pain and cold determination reflected
in his eyes. She was right. They already had enough enemies. And enemies
who needed to pay.
And he might not trust a syllable that came out of the archangel's mouth,
but if Isaiah and Naomi believed in Celestina, that had weight. Isaiah, who had
suffered under the archangels as much as Hunt, was there, helping Celestina,
knowing that she had betrayed his friend. Isaiah wasn't just any asshole with
no courage at all. He was good, smart and brave.
And Isaiah was there.

Then Hunt said:
- All good. Let's ring the bell of Hell.
***
Hunt still had enough lightning to boost Bryce again. The energy shot through
her and into the gate, into the heart of the Northern Rift.
Her momentum, scorching with that pure starlight, changed places again.
Celestina, Isaiah, and Naomi stood a step back, all glowing with power,
preparing for the worst.
Impenetrable darkness spread within the arch, broken only by two twinkling
blue eyes.
Prince Aidas appeared there, dressed impeccably, all in black,

without a single golden strand of hair out of place. He surveyed the
freezing terrain, with the sun setting after a short time of daylight.
Bryce made a grand, sweeping gesture with his arm as the Gorge
Prince crossed the Northern Rift.
“Welcome back to Midgard,” she greeted. - I expect
May your stay be pleasant.
— So — said Jesiba, drumming her fingers on the table — the doggo

will try to sell the idea of the medicine against worms to a bunch of
wolves and return home like a Cousin.
Ithan ignored the jab.
— I need you to put me in contact with the Sub-King — he stated.
He had showered in the tents in the Lair and changed into Aux's
drab clothes, then stopped by briefly to talk to Perry and the others
before rushing back to the House of Flame and Shadow. He was a
Cousin, yes, and everything that implied, but…
- Why?
— I need to see my brother. And considering what a disaster it
was the last two times I got involved with the dead… I'm not going to
make the same mistake a third time. I need the Sub-King's help.
Ithan paced up and down Jesiba's office.
— Again: why?
He looked straight at her.
— Because Connor is trying to talk to me.
He had heard that howl from the Bone Quarter and had known
who it was. Who called him.
While Ithan was changing, Hypaxia had delivered the antidote to the
Lair, to those who would accept it. Perry had been first in line, it seemed.
And it wasn't an omega who had been in front of Ithan when he had gone
to check on her when she left the Lair.
Ithan hadn't stayed long enough to find out what Perry was, what
powers she and the others had obtained, so long buried in the wolf
bloodline. He had given the order that this new knowledge should be
restricted to the Lair, and the wolves had agreed.
They had obeyed him.

— You were right — Ithan said to Jesiba — about needing a plan. I
have no idea what I'm doing.
— You could have a little lesson with Quinlan about staying two steps
ahead.
Ithan shot her an annoyed look.
— News about Avallen?
— She called two hours ago. Wanting a favor, as always. And an
update on its evolution. — The sorceress gave a small smile.
— And when I told you what Hypaxia had achieved, it was obvious that she
asked you to take the antidote to her.
- When? Where?
Jesiba gave another small
smile. — To the Eternal City. Tomorrow. I think Quinlan is tired of being
fooled. She ordered to take some wolves, if she has any, to serve as
support.
Ithan just stared at the sorceress. Not just being a Cousin,
how to act like a Primo…
— Will there be a battle?
— I don't know — Jesiba looked at him seriously — but if I were you, I
would take the vulnerable doggos and wolves to safe hiding places. Not
the Lair, not in Lunathion. Have them evacuated to a place deep in the
jungle, underground, and then take the best warriors you have to the
Eternal City.
— There aren't many in the Lair... most are outside.
—Then take whoever is there. It'll be better than nothing.
Ithan walked one way, then the other.
— Maybe I should have left Sigrid in that tank. It would have been better than
being a reaper. — There was no one to blame for Sigrid's situation other than himself.
Ithan rubbed his forehead. — Look, I need to see my brother. One last time.
- Impossible.
Ithan bared his teeth.
— I know you can ask the Sub-King. — He didn't wait for an answer before
questioning: — Do you know... about secundalux? That our souls are food for the
Sub-King and the asteri?
- Be.
Ithan shook his head.
—And that doesn't bother you?
—Of course it bothers me, it's been bothering me for fifteen thousand years. But
it is only one arm of the many-headed beast that is the domain of the Asteri.
Ithan ran his hands over his face.

— Can you help me or not?
He would need all the help he could get. He was not a leader.
Judging by the mess he'd gotten Sigrid into, he wasn't fit to make decisions for
anyone. He had tried to save her and had failed… failed in a spectacular way. That
had been just one life. With all the Valbaran wolves under his charge
no moment...
He tried not to think about the debilitating panic and dread.
Jesiba was silent for a moment, then replied softly: — Let me see what I can
do, doggy. — She twisted the
mouth to the side. — Bring Hypaxia with you.
***
Bryce had just entered the guard booth when his cell phone rang. She had needed a
second, a damned second alone… to digest the enormity of what she had done.
She had thrown her own parents into the world of the fae.
Bryce had always found some comfort in knowing that no matter what he did, or
where he was, Ember Quinlan and Randall
Silago were on Nidaros… that Ember and Randall existed and would always
be willing to fight for her. Fight with her, knowing well who her mother was.
Being aware of that was also comforting.
And now they were… gone. They were alive, yes, but on the other side
of the universe.
They could have stayed in Avallen, safe with everyone else, with Cooper,
but she had needed them. He had needed them to bargain with Nesta, but
he had also needed to know that his parents were categorically off limits to
the asteri.
Bryce knew it was selfish. Cowardice. However, he had no regrets.
Although she really wanted a second to digest everything. That's why he

was in the guard booth.
Until the cell phone rings.
She had been outside the coverage area beyond the wall, so she had
no idea if it was Urd's timing or if her brother had been trying to talk to her
this whole time. Bryce answered on the first ring.
- Soul?
— I need you to come back here.
- What there was?
Panic permeated his every word: —
Pollux intercepted the Deep Freighter as people were descending on the
edge of Avallen's mists. He killed a lot of sea creatures… I don't know how,
but he knew about Lidia's children. Pollux took them. They are trapped in
the palace.
Bryce almost dropped his cell phone. Outside, Hunt was a shadow
against the darkness and snow, their companions like shadows around him.
— I imagine the asteri have figured out how to lure us to

them,” Bryce replied softly.
— The Deep Freighter sent us a transport capsule... We're about to get
into one now with Flynn and Dec and head to the Eternal City — Ruhn
informed in a hoarse voice. —But if those children are in the dungeons…
Bryce felt his stomach turn.

“It's okay,” she whispered. - Yes, of course. He is well. Let's go

Get the helicopter right now.
Ruhn let out a shaky breath.
— Did you… do what you needed to do there?
“I did,” Bryce confirmed, and stepped out into the howling wind and
brutal cold.
Hunt and Aidas were close to each other, making plans. Isaiah and
Naomi stayed a few meters away, intervening when necessary, but keeping
their distance, as if they weren't very comfortable with the idea of being in
the presence of a Prince of Hell. Celestina had departed for Ephraim's
fortress a few moments earlier, her white wings dazzlingly bright as the
light bounced off the snow. She would keep him busy, she promised again
before leaving, with one last nod to Hunt that was not returned.
Behind Hunt and the others, stretching into the distance, marched the
armies of Hell. They covered the entire nearly forty kilometers from the wall
to the still open Rift.
Unholy horrors… especially those pets that had been released into
Crescent Moon City that spring. Bryce had never been so happy to have
the Archesian amulet around his neck, although he wondered if the object
would be able to stop that many demons, if they decided it was time for a
snack.
Judging by Hunt's tense shoulders, she knew the horde was as

unsettling for him as it was for her. Horned humanoids with leathery wings
that looked like infantry soldiers. Bone-white reptilian beasts that crawled
on all fours, dogs of war. Skeletal beings with oversized jaws, overlapping
with needle-like teeth that glowed with greenish goo. There were more,
many more: things that glided, that flew, that studied Midgard with milky,
sightless eyes and barked with the anticipation of bloodlust.
Hunt made no comment about the endless rows of nightmares. He had

spent his life hunting the very creatures that were currently fighting for
them. How many who were now marching from the
Hell were they also aware of that? How many of them had entered
Crescent Moon City a few months earlier and, with joy, distilled pain
and death?
But that time, true to the prince's word, the beasts behaved. As for
the soldiers, Bryce didn't look too closely at the faces beneath the
armor, nor at the spiky wings jutting out over the ranks, the clawed
hands holding spears. They didn't talk, they didn't growl. Breathing
curved under helmet visors with each step in the frigid air. Each step
deeper into Midgard.
All of Hell, ready to attack.

She needed to trust that this would prove to be the right choice.
“Tell Lidia we're coming,” Bryce said to Ruhn, still on the call. The
thunder of feet, hooves and claws shook the snow-covered earth. —
And tell them we're not going alone.
— I think I've seen that movie — Ithan murmured to Hypaxia, the two of
them standing on the Black Pier, each with a Death Mark in their hand. —
You, me, the Under-King…
— Our best friend — Hypaxia replied ironically, the mists of the Bone
Quarter forming an impenetrable wall across the river. She gestured to the
water. - We can?
Ithan nodded, and the two threw the Deathmarks into the river. The
objects sank with a soft splash, and ripples spread from the inside out in a
single direction: south. The direction of the Quarteirão dos Ossos. And they
disappeared into the mist.
In the subsequent silence, Ithan dared to say:
— Jesiba said you and the governor were… uh… together.
For how long?
She turned to Ithan, with a pained expression.
— A little while, but we're not there anymore.
—Even while she was with Ephraim?
—Her deal with Ephraim is a political contract. What she and I have…
we had…” Hypaxia shook her head, the moonlight bathing her dark curls in
silver. — I'm sure Jesiba said I was naive.
“Maybe,” he replied, guardedly.

Hypaxia looked at where her Death Mark had disappeared beneath the
surface.
— Everyone warned me, you know? That archangels cannot be trusted.
That they are indoctrinated in secret training camps, that they are puppets
of the asteri. But she spent all that time in Nena, and I thought that ended
the influence the Asteri had on her. — Hypaxia bit her lip, then added: —
Apparently it served as an incentive for her to do whatever was necessary
to get out of that frozen piece of land.
— We… we all make bad decisions. — He exhaled.

—Gods, that sounded stupid.
Hypaxia laughed softly.
— Anyway, thank you. — She became serious again. —But when I
found out what she had done... Well. I miss my mother most days, especially
lately. Even more so after everything that happened with Celestina. — She
indicated the mists on the other side. —Then I understand why you want to
talk to your brother.
— I'm sorry about your mother.

— Most people say I should have gotten over her death by now, but…
— Hypaxia's shoulders slumped. — I don't know if there will ever be a day
when I don't feel like there's a hole in my heart where it used to be.
— Uhum — he murmured, feeling a tightness in his chest. - I know how

it is. — Then he cleared his throat. — You couldn't… um… resurrect your
mother with necromancy?
— No — Hypaxia replied, seriously. —She took steps to make sure her
soul did not fall into the Under-King's clutches. And even if I managed to do
it, she would resent me for using it for such a… selfish reason.
—But she is your mother.

— She is also my queen. Hypaxia raised her head. — It would be a
shame for her to know that I am a deserter among the witches and have
renounced the crown. Then no. I don't want to see her. I couldn't face her
even if I had the chance.
—But you're still a witch, aren't you? I mean, okay… now

you are in the Flame and Shadow, but you have not stopped being a witch.
Jesiba could have rejected the title, but that was her choice.
— I'm still a witch — confirmed Hypaxia, clasping her hands at her sides. —
No one can take that away from me.
Ithan studied the black boards beneath his feet. I needed to get the sailboat
for Cousin. For Sabine too, he supposed.
But did it really have? Cousin's soul no longer existed.
There was nothing to be offered to the Bone Quarter other than an empty body.
And if the people of Lunathion saw Cousin's boat tip over, without understanding
why... He couldn't allow that.
I would gladly let Sabine go through the humiliation of everyone watching
her boat tip over. I would also be happy to allow her soul to continue living in the
Bone Quarter until it was time to become mysterious meat for the Asteri, but to
begin with, I would have to decide whether she deserved a Sailboat.
Gods, he wanted Bryce to be there. She would know what to do.

Just slice it into very small pieces and put it in the garbage disposal.
Ithan made a mocking sound and prayed to Luna's bright face above, asking
that her friend was safe... and moving.
A black boat appeared through the mists ahead, gliding right toward Ithan
and Hypaxia, waiting at the dock. Exactly as Jesiba promised she would do.
Ithan swallowed.
- The taxi has arrived.
***
Ithan knew he was the Cousin of the Valbaran Wolves, but he certainly didn't
feel like one. The whole thing was a joke. He was just… a guy.
Beauty, one with more power than he had realized, but now there were people
who depended on him. Ithan needed to make decisions.
At least when he was soleball captain the coaches told him what to do. Now
he was coach and captain, everything
together.
And, considering how much shit he had done recently and how his choice to help
Sigrid had led her to a completely disastrous fate... Gods, he really didn't feel like a
Cousin at all.
Except he tried to at least look like one—back straight, shoulders back—as he and
Hypaxia prostrated themselves before the Underking in a temple to Urd made of gray
stone.
The Under-King sat on a throne beneath a monstrously large statue that depicted
a figure raising a black metal bowl between his hands. There were symbols engraved
on the bowl, which continued down the fingers, arms, and then the body of the figure.
Ithan could only assume he intended to represent Urd. No other temple illustrated the
Goddess, no one even dared… Most people claimed that it was impossible to portray
destiny in any single form. However, it seemed that the dead, unlike the living, had an
image of her. And those symbols that stretched from the bowl to her skin… they were
like tattoos.
It was strange, but they looked familiar. Ithan did not have time to ponder the topic,
because soon he and Hypaxia bowed their heads to the Sub-King.
“Thank you for the meeting,” Ithan said, trying to keep his cool.
breathing under control.
He prayed that none of the hounds the Underking had sent after them at the
Autumnal Equinox were lurking in the murky shadows.
At least there were no reapers. No sign of Sigrid, wherever she had gone. Another
mess he would have to deal with… but on another day. If he could stay alive to see
another day, of course.
The Sub-King's skeletal, thin fingers drummed on the arms of the throne.
“Cousin,” he said to Ithan. —, I am honored to be your first political visit.

Although I believe that, according to protocol, a meeting with the governor should have
been his priority. - He
threw a glance at Hypaxia. — Unless the present company makes such

responsibilities… uncomfortable.
Hypaxia's eyes twinkled, but she didn't say anything.
They had gone there for a reason, so Ithan ignored the provocation.
of the Sub-King and said:
— Listen... uh... Your Majesty — he murmured, which made the Sub-King

open a smile that revealed his brownish and aged dental arch. Ithan tried not to
shudder. —Jesiba Roga said that Your Majesty agreed for us to make a request.
I'd like to speak to my brother, Connor Holstrom.
The Under-King turned to Hypaxia.

— Had I not given you obligations to fulfill?
— Giving blood bags to vampires isn't a good use of my time — Hypaxia
replied, with impressive authority.
—Should I assign her to serve the reapers? — A cruel smile. —

They'd like to give you a taste, girl.
— I just want five minutes with my brother — Ithan interrupted.
— For what purpose?
The Under-King leaned forward.
— I need to tell him a few things.
— The goodbye you never got to say — teased the Sub-King.
— Yes — confirmed Ithan, with a stern voice.
The Sub-King tilted his head.
— And promise not to warn him about what awaits him?
— What does it matter if I warn you? He’s already trapped here,” he replied.
Ithan, gesturing to the temple, to the barren land beyond.
— I have no interest in civil unrest… even among the dead — declared the
Sub-King. — And too much unrest would attract unwanted attention and
questions.
Of the asteri, without a doubt.
Ithan crossed his arms.
— It didn't seem like your position when you handed over my cards.
friends to Pippa Spetsos.
— Pippa Spetsos offered to significantly expand my kingdom — explained
the creature. — It was an investment for my
reapers… to keep them happy and fed.

Ithan blocked the image of Cousin's destroyed body from his mind,
of how Sigrid had sucked his soul.
— Why did the reapers desert Apollion and join you? — asked
Hypaxia, calmly.
The Under-King shuddered.
— Don't say his name here.
“Sorry,” Hypaxia muttered.
She didn't seem sorry at all.
However, the Sub-King recovered.
— In Hell, reapers ruled over vampires and fed on them. When the
vampires defected and migrated to this world, the reapers followed their
food source and found the other beings on Midgard to be a veritable
feast. So they left the vampires to their own devices, feeding freely on
the rest of the people.
Ithan couldn't help but shudder that time. I couldn't imagine what Hell
was like, if reapers and vampires were roaming the place...
— But you're not from Hell — countered Hypaxia.

— No. — The Under-King's milky eyes focused on Ithan. — I was
born from the Void, but my people… — He opened a cruel smile. —
They were not unknown to your ancestors, wolf. I lay in wait as they
invaded Midgard in a reckless manner. This place is far better suited to
meet my needs than the caves and tombs to which I was confined.
Ithan hesitated.
— Did you come from the world of shapeshifters?
“You weren't known as shapeshifters back then, kid.
- So what…?
— And she — continued the Under-King, gesturing to the unusual
representation of Urd that stood imposingly above him — was not a
goddess, but a force that ruled worlds. A cauldron of life, overflowing
with the language of creation. Urd, they a
they call here… a corrupted version of her real name.

Wyrd, we called it in the old world.
— Okay — Hypaxia interjected — but my friend's request...
— Go talk to your brother, boy — said the Sub-King slowly, almost

melancholy. As if all that talk about his old world had exhausted him. — You
have seven minutes.
Ithan's mouth went dry.
- But where…?
The Under-King pointed to the exit behind them.
— Or.
Ithan turned around. And there was Connor, as vibrant as he had been in
life, standing on the threshold of the temple.
Ithan didn't know whether to laugh or cry as he sat there with his brother on
the steps in front of the temple. Hypaxia remained inside, talking quietly to
the Sub-King.
Connor looked the same as he did the last time Ithan saw him, cheering
in the stands at the soleball game… except for the bluish light that surrounded
his body. The mark of a ghost.
Ithan had found out the hard way what that meant;
he had tried to hug his brother, but his arms went straight through him.
Seven minutes. Less than that now.
— There is so much I want to say to you — Ithan began.
Connor opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
Ithan was left without a reaction.
— You can't... can't speak?
Connor shook his head.
- Never? Or just… now?
Connor said “never” with his mouth.
— But Danika talked to Bryce…
Connor patted his chest, as if to say “in here.”
Ithan rubbed his face.

— The Sub-King knew you couldn’t fucking talk, and…

Blue flashed across his vision as Connor placed his hand on Ithan's
shoulder. The gesture had no weight, but the look his brother gave him, a
compassionate and concerned look...
“I'm sorry I wasn't there,” Ithan said, his voice
failing.
Connor shook his head slowly.
— I should have been there.
Connor placed a finger on his lips. Don't say anything else.
Ithan swallowed hard, trying to clear the lump in his throat.
— I miss you every day. I wish you were with me. I… Damn, I'm up to
my eyeballs in trouble, and having my brother with me would help me a lot.
Connor tilted his head. Tell me.

Ithan said. As succinctly as I could, aware of every second that passed.
About Sigrid, Sabine and Cousin. About who he was now. About the
parasite and the antidote.
Ithan checked his cell phone when he finished. There were only two minutes left.
Connor smiled slightly.
- What it was? asked Ithan.
The brother placed his hand on his chest and bowed his head, a sign of
respect for his cousin.
Ithan gave him a dirty look.
- It's not funny.
Connor stood up and shook his head. There was nothing but
pride in your eyes.
Ithan felt the lump in his throat.
- I do not know what to do. How to be a Cousin. How to fix this shit with
Sigrid… if it can be fixed at all. We can no longer rely on Athalar's lightning
after all. Maybe I'm a jerk for not prioritizing Sigrid, but I need to help Bryce
and the others first. I'm fucking lost. And... there are more things I can't tell
you. I wanted to tell you, but…
Connor looked behind them, at the temple and the Under-King inside.
When he was sure that the two were truly alone, he reached out to Ithan. A
sparkling seed of light in it.
Connor put his hand over his mouth and pretended to eat it.
- You know? — Ithan whispered. — About secundalux?
Connor agreed.
Ithan snorted.
—Of course the Pack of Demons would find out.
But Connor reached into his pocket and then placed something on the floor
between them.
A projectile.
It was made of the same smelly metal as the Death Mark. As if it had been
created from all those coins thrown into the river.
Whatever properties the metal had should have enabled the bullet to be touched
and handled by the dead.
“I don't understand,” Ithan muttered. - What is that?
Connor began gesturing, too quickly for Ithan to follow.
But robes rustled on the stone, and Ithan caught the black bullet before
for the Sub-King to appear between the columns of the temple and declare:
- Your time is over.
Connor looked at Ithan's hand, then back at his brother's face, his eyes
begging him to understand what he meant.
“Just one more minute,” Ithan begged. - Please.

— You have already been graced with more than most mortals receive. Be
grateful.
“Be grateful,” Ithan whispered as Hypaxia stood next to the Under-King. -
Whereby? Because my brother is here? — His scream echoed through the gray
columns, through the gravel, through the empty mists.
Connor signaled him to shut up. Ithan ignored him.
— I refuse to accept it. — Ithan was foaming with hatred, claws glinting at
his fingertips. — That this is the best you can have…
— Remember your oath, doggy — warned the Sub-King.

Ithan se eriçou.
— And what are you other than a bizarre alien who took
advantage of this world?
Connor was looking at Ithan at the moment… wide-eyed, encouraging him
to keep quiet, to back off.
But that thing that had awakened in Ithan the moment the parasite
disappeared didn't want to go away. He faced the creature from above, that
thing from his people's home world, and saw the Sub-King for what he really
was.
Enemy, chanted his blood, and spoke of caves beneath hills, of plundered
graves and musky darkness. Enemy.
Ithan's growl caused the clouds of mist to part, ricocheting across the
temple. The ice curled at his fingertips.
Even Connor pulled away, surprised.
- What is that? — asked the Sub-King, also taking a step back, towards the
interior of the temple.
Ithan looked at his hands. Stops the ice forming crusts on them.
Enemy.
The silent dead and those who suffered... Ithan would no longer allow that.
— Get out of my kingdom — ordered the Under-King, and Ithan felt the
smell of his fear.
Surprise and terror. As if he also recognized Ithan as an old enemy.
The Under-King took another step back, almost into the temple, and slipped
on the pure ice. Straightening, his robes billowing, he raised his skeletal hand,
and Ithan knew deep down that it was to summon the hounds.
Ithan didn't give him the opportunity.

Ice crusted the Sub-King's withered hand. And then the arm.
Then the shoulder…
- Stop it now! — shouted the Sub-King.
But the ice continued to spread, covering him. Ithan left.
That that male saw what a ruthless killer he was, that he would no longer
tolerate his brother, his parents, or anyone he loved going through that shit.
No more sailboats. He would never go to one again.

He had single-handedly destroyed the Fendyr bloodline. Why not destroy Death
too?
The Under-King opened his mouth to scream, but Ithan's ice covered his face
and body. A cold coating so complete that Ithan could feel it in his own heart. I heard
the freezing wind, capable of killing in seconds.
Ithan gave himself up. He poured it all into not being trapped on the steps before
of him like a statue.
He knew Connor was watching, horrified, and he didn't dare look away.
focus of the Sub-King to interpret Hypaxia's expression.
Ithan became so cold that he forgot what heat was. Forgot the fire, the sun and...
Connor stood in front of him, growling.

Ithan's focus wavered, but instead of the disgust and disgust he thought he
would see on Connor's face, there was only anguish and concern.
— Well, it's definitely a way to shut up the old braggart — commented Jesiba
Roga, lurking in the shadows inside the temple.
Ithan turned around, but Jesiba said to Hypaxia, who was tense and her body
vibrating with power next to the column nearby:
- Go ahead.
The ancient witch-queen did not strike with the shining power, but only picked
up an unlit brazier next to the entrance of time and lifted it up.
With a face as hard as stone, Hypaxia brandished the dark metal.
And the Under-King exploded into sparkling shards of ice.
There was an alarming silence as Ithan watched the mound of ice that
had once been the Underking… feeling nothing.
The Sub-King was dead. Extinct.
Ithan had killed him.
— Apparently, we're going to need a new Leader for the House —
said Jesiba calmly to Hypaxia, who looked at the Sub-King, evidently
appalled by what she had done.
With what they did.
“When I went to hit him,” Hypaxia confessed softly to
Ithan, ignoring Jesiba—I put some power into the strike.
Hypaxia extended her bloody hand to Ithan, who realized that his
body was also bleeding due to the explosion of the razor-sharp ice
shards. Rivers of red ran down his hands and face. Hypaxia's
appearance wasn't much better.
Ithan held her hand with his own bloody hand. Her hand glowed,
and they both healed. The cuts on Hypaxia's face were gone... his were
gone too, judging by the tingling he felt on his skin. The fastest he had
ever seen a medwitch do.
— Play later — Jesiba intervened. — We have a job to do.

- What work? asked Ithan.

— You kill the thing, you become the thing — declared Jesiba to
Hypaxia. — You are now, for all intents and purposes, Head of the House
of Flame and Shadow. And from this place.
She turned pale.
- That's not possible. I don't want this burden.
— Your bad luck. You killed him.
Hypaxia rushed towards Jesiba, her face contorted with anguish and
fury.
“You knew this would happen,” she accused. - You made me
accompany Ithan not to help him, but…
— I suspected that things might turn in your favor — replied Jesiba,
mildly. — But even if you rightfully inherited this place, you need to make
decisions quickly. Before Rigelus finds out.
- What kind? — Ithan questioned, demandingly, looking at Connor, who

was still nearby at the top of the stairs, watching them with an admiring
expression on his ghostly face.
— Like what to do with the souls here — revealed Jesiba, nodding at
Connor.
“We freed them,” said Ithan. — We don't need the
Realms of Stillness for nothing, do we need?
— No. Death worked just fine without them before arrival
dos asteri - confirmed Jesiba.
But Connor shook his head.
- No? asked Ithan.
The brother gestured with his head to Ithan's clenched fist, which held
the black bullet. Connor opened his mouth, but still, he didn't make a sound.
— Oh, please — murmured Jesiba, turning to Hypaxia. — Order him to

speak quickly.
Hypaxia raised her eyebrows.
— House.
Connor exhaled audibly. Hypaxia was really the owner of that place.
Ithan was amazed.
And it was his brother's voice, the voice he had known all his life, that insisted:
— Don't send us into the ether.

— Connor… — Ithan began.
Connor maintained eye contact with Hypaxia.
— Don't miss the chance.
He started down the stairs — almost running — and all they could do was
follow him. With that strong and convinced grace, the brother walked the
empty path flanked by obelisks with strange carvings. The path to the Gate of
the Dead, the glass muffled in the gloom.
Only when they were in front of the gate did Connor speak again:
— That bullet — Connor nodded to Ithan's hand, we were the ones who
—, made... the dead. For Bryce. — He opened a light and melancholy smile
when he pronounced the name. —For use in the Godslayer Rifle.
—What's special about her? — asked Jesiba.

— Nothing yet, but it was created to support us. Our second luxury,”
Connor explained. As if in response, the Gate began to glow. — We had
planned to contact Jesiba… to ask her, through her position at Flame and
Shadow, to contact one of you. — Connor lifted one of his shoulders. —But
when you showed up here, Ithan, with the Sub-King distracted… Well, it was
earlier than we had planned, but everyone was ready. I think Urd made sure
of that.
After everything Ithan had heard and experienced, no

doubted his brother's claim.
—So they began the exodus through the Gate. They were
ending when I was called to meet you — concluded Connor.
A conductor, like the one Bryce had drawn from the spring.
— All our secundalux, every soul here... It's yours to put
in this bullet. Use it wisely,” Connor revealed quietly.
Ithan felt a lump in his throat.
—But if you... if you become secundalux...
“I'm already dead, Ithan,” Connor said softly. —And I can't think of a better
way to end my existence than to strike a blow for all our ancestors who were
trapped and consumed by the asteri. He nodded at the
bullet, the shining Gate illuminating his face. — Read what is engraved on it.
Memento Mori. The letters glittered in the clear light of the Gate.
Jesiba laughed softly.
— You got the idea from me, did you?
Connor smiled at the corner of his mouth. Ithan almost collapsed with
the half-smile. Gods, he had missed this. Missing my older brother.
But the Gate of the Dead shone more brightly… as if the time had come.
As if it couldn't hold all those souls for much longer, the secundalux they
had become.
— You make me proud, you know? Every day before today, every day
from tomorrow. Nothing you do will change that,” Connor told Ithan.
Something erupted in Ithan's chest.

— Connor…
“Tell Bryce,” Connor interrupted, his eyes shining as he approached the
shining Gate, a wall of light now gleaming in the empty archway, “to make
the shot count.
Connor stepped into the archway and disappeared into the wall of light.
He was gone. And that time it was as unbearable and unfathomable as

having your brother there, as seeing him, as talking to him and losing him
again...
The light began to dim and contract, pulsing, and Ithan could have sworn
he heard the hissing of reapers advancing on them in the distance. The light
wavered and imploded, condensing into a tiny seed of pure light.
It floated in the arch of the Gate, vibrating with such power that the hairs
on Ithan's arms stood on end.
— Put them inside the bullet — ordered Jesiba to Ithan, who unscrewed
the bullet’s cap and carefully approached the bullet.
seed.
All the souls of the people there… The dreams of the dead, their love
for life…
Gently, Ithan slid the bullet around the seed of light and placed the lid back
on. He positioned the bullet between his thumb and index finger, the tip
pressing into his skin.
As light streamed through the projectile, the words Memento Mori were
illuminated for a brief moment, letter by letter.
Then they were gone, the dark metal stark in the gray light.
- And now? — asked Ithan, hoarsely, barely able to speak.
Connor had been there, and then gone. Forever.
“I have some reapers to deal with,” Hypaxia muttered, watching the mists
in the distance, where the hissing was getting louder.
Ithan suppressed the hole in his heart and asked: —

And Sigrid?
Hypaxia responded carefully: — What
do you want me to do with her?
— Just, uh… — Shit, he had no idea. — Tell her I want to talk to her. —
Then he explained: — That I need to talk to her, but only when I return from
the Eternal City.
If he came back.
Hypaxia nodded solemnly.
— If I find her, I'll pass on the message.
—The reapers will not handle the change in power well — warned Jesiba.
—Then I appoint you as sub-commander and order you to help me —

Hypaxia replied, categorically.
— I'm happy to help — murmured Jesiba, analyzing her nails.
painted red.
— You can't kill them — Hypaxia warned the sorceress.
Jesiba gave the witch an ironic smile and nodded to Ithan, who had turned
off his own grief for a moment to focus on her cold gaze.
— Go to Pangera now, Cousin. And take that bullet to Bryce Quinlan.

***
Tharion didn't speak, barely breathed, until he and Sathia were back in the open air. It had
taken them a few hours to coordinate with their former colleagues how they would conduct
the exodus from the city, how they would circulate the message without alerting anyone of
the plan. Word would soon spread to the Blue Court, which was housing refugees, but
hopefully by then they would have led a good portion of the people into the Deep. And then
the Blue Court would lock itself away, praying that the power of the River Queen would be a
match for the sulfur torpedoes of the omega boats docked in the river. It was risky… but it
was a plan.
It was only after they entered a dark alley to take cover that Tharion said to Sathia: —
We did it. We fucking did it...
She smiled, and it was beautiful. She was beautiful.

However, from the shadows of the alley, a voice intoned: —
What an interesting twist.
Tharion only managed to draw the knife from his side and position himself in front of
Sathia before the Viper Queen emerged into the light, flanked by the drugged and burly fey
assassins.
— I have no quarrel with you — said Tharion to the Viper Queen, who was wearing one
of her usual jumpsuits, this time pool blue, with high-top suede sneakers in a shade of
amethyst and brown laces.
“You burned my house down,” replied the Viper Queen,

with snake eyes sparkling green.
Like the eyes of a grim reaper. The fae assassins behind her
moved, as if they were an extension of the Queen's wrath.
—Colin? — Sathia intervened, and Tharion saw her mouth open,
looking at one of the fae males. —Colin? I thought you…
The Viper Queen's gaze flickered between the enormous fae male and
Sathi.
- Who are you?
— Sathia Flynn, daughter of Padraig, Lord Hawthorne. — Sathia lifted her chin, disdain
filling every word. — I know who you are, so don't bother introducing yourself, but I want to
know why my friend is in your service.
It was a different expression from the courteous grace she had shown
towards the River Queen. That facet was imperious, icy, and somewhat
terrifying.
The Viper Queen let out a mocking sound.
Sathia showed her teeth.
— Colin. Get away from that trash and go home.
The huge fae male stared straight ahead, unresponsive. As
had done all that time. As if he didn't hear her.
“Colin,” Sathia repeated, her voice becoming more severe with
something akin to panic.
— McCarthy won't answer unless I order it — revealed the Queen
Viper, slowly, going over to the male and running her perfectly manicured
hands over his broad chest. Golden nails sparkled against the black leather
of the fae's jacket. — But let me guess: childhood friend? Poor, handsome
faerie guard, rich, spoiled little girl… — She curled her purple-painted lips
into a smile and patted the male's cheek, purring at him. — Is that why you
came crawling to me? Didn't her daddy let you court her?
Tharion felt his heart stop when he saw the pain that took over his face.
Sathia as she muttered, more to herself than anyone else:
— Dad said you had gotten a new post in Korinth.
— Padraig Flynn has always been an excellent liar — declared the

Viper Queen. —And an even better customer. He introduced me to
McCarthy, obviously.
She gestured to the blank-faced assassin.
Sathia turned pale.
— Go home, Colin. — Her voice broke. - Please.
Tharion had no idea how anyone, including the male
drugged, he could resist the appeal in that voice. To Sathia's face.
“Too late,” replied the Viper Queen, nodding at Tharion. —But you and
I have unfinished business, merman.
“Leave him alone,” cried Sathia, showing her teeth.

as he got closer to Tharion. — Don't you dare touch him.
Tharion took her hand, squeezing once as a warning.
so that she would remain silent.
—And what authority do you have, girl, to command me to stay away
from him?
— I am his wife — revealed Sathia, imposingly.
The Viper Queen burst into laughter. And Tharion would have sworn
something like pain appeared in McCarthy's bright blue eyes...just a
flicker.
“Leave him alone,” Sathia repeated, and vines wrapped around her
fingers. — Both him and Colin.
— I'm not interested in that option, girl — replied the Viper Queen,
tilting her head to the side.
The killers, including Colin, aimed their guns. I wonder if he
had imagined, or had McCarthy's gun trembled slightly?
Tharion sheathed his knife and raised his hands once again.
getting in front of Sathia.
— Your beef is with me. — He had managed to do what he needed

to do with the River Queen. And if Sathia became a widow… she could
marry again, according to fae law. Maybe she would even find a way to
save poor old McCarthy and marry him.
Then he added: — Let her get out of here before you put a bullet in my
head.
— Ah, I’m not going to kill you that quickly — countered the Viper
Queen. — No chance, Ketos.
She stepped forward, the assassins following her.
— If you take another step towards my friend — warned one, you will
familiar female voice —, die.
Tharion's knees wobbled as he looked over a fae's shoulder... and
saw Hypaxia Enador coming from the dock, with Ithan Holstrom, the
personification of danger, at her side.
“I don't take orders from ancient witch-queens,” replied the Viper Queen.
The guards didn't back down in the slightest, but Colin McCarthy's gun was
definitely shaking, as if he was doing everything he could to resist the order.
— And orders from the Head of the House of Flame and Shadow? — he replied
Hypaxia.
Tharion's legs wobbled when he saw the green light that shone in her eyes.
Sathia grabbed him around the waist, grunting as she held him upright.
—Pax? — Tharion whispered.

But his friend (that female who had been his friend since the moment they
met at the Summit, who always seemed to see the real male beneath the
charming facade) just continued to stare at the Viper Queen, threateningly.
— If you touch him, or his friend, you will incur the wrath of
Flame and Shadow fall upon you.
Holstrom stood beside her, brimming with power (of magic, cold and
unknown) and added:
—And to the wrath of all the Valbaran Wolves.
There was only one person who could claim that.

The male before him was Primo. There was no doubt. But that one
strange power emanating from him… what the fuck was that?
The Viper Queen stared sternly at Ithan for a long time, and then Hypaxia.
— Transfer of power — she murmured, taking a cigarette from the pocket

of her overalls and putting it in her mouth. - Interesting. — The cigarette rose
and fell with the word, and she lit it, inhaling heartily. Then he fixed his snake
eyes on Tharion. — The reward for you is still active.
— Forget about the reward — ordered Ithan, the voice of an alpha

echoing.
— I will not forgive or forget what Ketos did to me and to
mine, but he will leave here alive today… I will allow that.
Hypaxia gave her a look that emanated disdain.
— You're going to get out of here alive today. This we will allow.
The Viper Queen inhaled her cigarette again and blew smoke towards
Hypaxia.
— They give the witch a spark of power and it goes straight to her pretty
little head.
“Fuck you,” Ithan shouted, growling.
But the Viper Queen retreated into the alley, whistling at the assassins
before walking away. They turned as one and marched after her.
Colin McCarthy didn't even look back.

- But what the hell? — Tharion cursed at Ithan and Hypaxia. The Cousin
of the Valbaran Wolves and the Head of the House of Flame and Shadow.
- What happened?
- What happened to you? asked Ithan. - Where are the
others? Is Bryce here?
—Bryce? No... she's in Nena. She…
This was not the time to catch up on the news.
But then Ithan repeated:
— Nena? — Then he ran his hands through his hair. — Shit.
- Why? — asked Tharion.
— We have to find Bryce. For now — Hypaxia replied, seriously.
“Okay,” Tharion replied. — I'll see if I can talk

with her or with Athalar.
Hypaxia and Ithan began walking, and Tharion followed. Sathia stayed
a few steps behind. As the door to the House of Flame and Shadow loomed
before them, Hypaxia raised her hand, and the object opened without a
sound. It was under her command.
Ithan soon entered, but Tharion finally managed to overcome the shock
enough to ask Hypaxia: — How did you end up
turning...?
“Long story,” she interrupted, placing a lock of the only
dark curls behind the ear. — Let's go in first. It's a safe place in the
city.
Tharion looked at Sathia, whose face stood pale in front of the door.
“Just a minute,” he asked, and Hypaxia nodded and headed into the
darkness.
— Hypaxia is a friend — Tharion explained in a soft tone to Sathia. —
Nothing bad will happen to you here.
Sathia looked up, desolate and desperate, at his face.
As if I had seen a ghost.
Maybe it really had.
— It was my Ordeal. — Sathia's mouth was so, so pale. — I only realized
later. After Colin… left. Losing him was my Ordeal.
Tharion placed his hand gently on his wife's back, surprised to feel the
strange tension within him, and led her to the door.
“I'm sorry,” he murmured, leading her toward the darkness.
It was all he could offer her.

***
— The signal in Nena is shit... There's some weird interference there —

Tharion announced. Of all the possible places, they were right in Jesiba
Roga's office. —But from the few words I could make out, they are on
their way to the Eternal City
in this exact moment.
“That's good,” Holstrom replied, pacing back and forth in front of
Roga's desk. — That's what Jesiba told me earlier today. But where are
we?
— That's the difficult part — admitted Tharion, sitting down in one of
the chairs. Sathia, sitting on the other, was lost in thought. — The signal
failed before we could get to that part. I tried calling him again, and
Quinlan, and her parents, but… nothing.
“Maybe they opened the Rift,” suggested Hypaxia. — Hell's magic

infiltrating Midgard could interfere with the connection.
The presence of demons sometimes causes power outages. Imagine
what a bunch of them would do.
— It’s possible, but it doesn’t change the subject at hand — he said.
Holstrom.
The wolf had changed… Somehow, in the course of a day he had
gone from lost to focused. From lone wolf to Cousin. Tharion managed
to extract from him a vague story about facing Sabine, and about Hypaxia
overthrowing the Under-King, becoming Head of the House of Flame
and Shadow. But beyond that, it seemed like they had evolved.
Significantly.
Mainly Ithan. Even the most powerful of wolves were gifted only with
shapeshifting abilities and super strength… not actual magic. And yet,
Holstrom had suddenly gained the ability to wield ice. As if the power
had been locked in his bloodline this entire time.
However, Tharion dismissed the thought when Holstrom

added:
— We need to find a way to join them.
— I'm sure that if the Rift is open, we'll see them coming from more
than a mile away.
— We have to find Hunt and Bryce before they start any kind of
confrontation with the asteri — Ithan insisted, then picked up a vial
containing a clear liquid that was on the table.
— Hypaxia found a cure for the asteri parasite. We need to get it out to as
many people as possible.
Tharion was left without reaction, shocked. Sathia left the state
melancholy to pay attention.
Then Ithan took a long, dark bullet out of his pocket.
— And we need to get this to Bryce as soon as possible.
- What is it? asked Tharion as a strange, archaic power vibrated from
within the black projectile.
Ithan's face was grim.
— A gift from the dead.
“Well, friends,” Bryce said to Hunt, Declan, Flynn, Ruhn, and Lidia.
They had all gathered in an unmarked white van — part of a fleet

that Ophion kept hidden throughout Pangera in case an agent needed
an escape vehicle — on the edge of the Eternal City. And although
Lidia was agitated with the urgency of saving her children, that step
was necessary.
— Ready to change the world? she asked.
Jesiba had just sent the recording of Micah's death.
“Let's set this shit on fire,” Flynn said, and Dec nodded, typing
away on his laptop.
“We're going to start recording in thirty seconds,” Dec told Bryce,
and she looked to where Hunt was sitting next to her, extremely quiet
and thoughtful.
Terrified, she realized.
He looked up, desolate fear in his expression.
speak in a hoarse voice:
— The last time I took an attitude like that, with the Fallen… it
cost me everything. — He swallowed hard, but kept his eyes on hers.
Bryce could have sworn lightning flashed across his wings. — But
this time I have Bryce Adelaide Quinlan by my side.
She grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly.

— Baby, I'm with you — she whispered, and his eyes
They shone, making it clear that he recognized the phrase.
He had said the same thing to her once... the day they had
removed the kristallos poison from her leg.
Hunt squeezed his hand back.
- Let's start.
Declan signaled, and the red light on the laptop's camera came on.
Bryce looked into the camera lens and declared,

“My name is Bryce Quinlan. Heiress of the Starry Fae, Queen of the Fae
in Avallen and Valbara, but most importantly… the half-human daughter of
Ember Quinlan and Randall Silago.
Hunt barely seemed to be breathing when Bryce continued, “This
is my partner and husband, Hunt Athalar. And we are here
to show you…
Then, right at that moment, she was overcome by a wave of nervousness.
Hunt noticed and continued his speech without blinking: —

We are here to show you that the Republic is not all full of powers as you
were led to believe. — He lifted his chin. — Centuries ago, I led a legion, the
Fallen, against the archangels, against the asteri. You know how it ended.
That day, on Mount Hermon, only one group of Vanir came to our aid: the
elves. We all suffered because of it, and those of us who survived are still
punished for it to this day. — Hunt swallowed again, and Bryce had never
loved him more than at that moment. — But today we're here to say that it's
worth it.
Hit back. That it is possible to challenge them and live. That their hierarchies,
their rules… are ridiculous. And it's time to put an end to it.
Bryce might have even smiled if she hadn't found the right words. “What
happened in the
Asphodel Meadows was an atrocity.
What happened to those innocent families…” She bared her teeth. — It can
never happen again. We, the people of Midgard, cannot allow it to happen
again. — Bryce looked directly at the
dead eye of the camera, to the world beyond. — The asteri lie to you,
to all of you, every second of every day. For the last fifteen thousand
years, they have been lying to us, enslaving us, and we don't even
know the half of it. They use a parasite in the water to control and collect
our magic under the guise of the Descent. Because they need magic…
they need us, our power. Without the power of the people of Midgard,
the Asteri are nothing.
She straightened her shoulders. Hunt's pride at her side was like a
heat that practically seeped through her body, but he let her continue
talking, taking the lead.
Bryce continued,
“The Asteri don't want you to know that. They conspired and killed
to keep everything secret. — The image of Danika's face, of the faces
of the Demon Pack, came to her mind. It was for them that Bryce spoke,
for Lehabah, for all those in the Meadows.
— They told us we were too weak, and they were too powerful, to fight
back. Another lie. So we're here to show you that it can be done. I
fought back and killed an archangel the Asteri had used as a puppet to
assassinate Danika Fendyr and the Demon Pack. I fought back and
won… I have the recording to prove it.
Declan pressed a button and the video started.

***
Bryce looked around the small, simple room in the hideout near the far
northeast section of the wall surrounding the Eternal City.
— Are Lidia sure this place is safe?

Hunt, wings folded inside the cramped space, nodded toward the
splinter-thin bed.
- He has. And anyway, I'm sure five-star hotels would report us to
the asteri.
"That's not what I meant," Bryce muttered, sitting down on the
squeaky, lumpy bed. It was more of a little mattress, really. —What I
wanted to say was that the entire Ophion is…
dead. — She choked on the word. — Who’s to say this place wasn’t discovered
too? It's not like Lidia is in the best psychological condition. Maybe I'm not
thinking straight.
“Dec and Flynn are on guard duty,” Hunt revealed, sitting down next to him.
side of her and grunting. — I think we can rest today.
Bryce rubbed his face.
— I don't know if I can sleep, knowing that the video will be released soon.
And soon after that, Hell would begin the journey to the Eternal City. Bryce
prayed that they would be able to advance without the others noticing the
presence of the armies until the right moment.
She had taken steps to ensure that.
Hunt moved his eyebrows up and down, looking at her.
— Do you want to do something other than sleep?

Despite everything that weighed on her shoulders, despite what awaited
them the next day, Bryce smiled a little.
- Oh yes?
She sort of leaned back, propping herself up on her elbows. The bed let
out a squeaky nheeeeec.
“Wow,” Bryce muttered, grimacing. — If anyone is in doubt that we are
about to have sex until we can no longer, this bed will make sure.
Hunt smirked, but his eyes had become darker, focusing on his partner's
mouth.
— I'm up for noisy sex. — He passed one of his hands around her waist,
leaning in until their lips almost touched. — Maybe it’s our last night to…
She covered his mouth with her hand.

—Nothing like that. — Bryce had a lump in his throat. - Do not say that.
Hunt stepped back, his own gaze unbearably tender.

— We will survive, Quinlan. All of us. I promise.
She leaned forward, pressing her mouth to his.
— I don't want to think about tomorrow right now.
It was his turn to respond: —

Oh, really?
Bryce gently slid her tongue along the line between his lips, which
opened his mouth. Then she stuck her tongue in Hunt's mouth, tasting the
essence of him, her partner and her husband.
— I want to think about you — she continued, reaching back, running
her hand over his chest, over his defined abdomen. — On you on top of me.
He shivered, lowering his head. She kissed the area where the
halo had been, where he had freed himself from the clutches.
Bryce reached down until he reached his black jeans and his
rigid volume beneath the tissue.
— I want to think about it — she said, squeezing him — inside me.
“Fuck,” he whispered and changed position, placing her

lying underneath him. - I love you.
She raised her hand to touch her partner's face, making him focus on
her gaze.
— I love you more than anything in the world... this and any other.
Hunt closed his eyes, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

— I thought you banned goodbyes.
— It's not a goodbye. — Bryce ran her hands down the groove in her
husband's spine, his wings feeling like velvet in her fingers. - AND
the truth.
Hunt brought his mouth to his partner's neck, grazing his teeth along her
pulse.
— You're my best friend, you know that? — He pulled his head away,
looking at Bryce, who couldn't stop the starlight from turning on. — I mean,
you're my partner and wife... That still sounds weird... But you're also my
best friend.
I never thought I would have one.
She ran her fingers over his strong jaw, down his cheeks.
— After Danika, I didn't think... — She felt her eyes burning and raised
her head to kiss him again. — You're my best friend too, Hunt. You saved
me... literally, in this case,
but also... — The female placed her hand on her own chest, in the shining light.
Another reference to last spring, to everything that had blossomed between
them, to the words spoken in that call that she had thought was the last one
she would make. - Here.
He looked into her eyes, and there was so much love there that Bryce
couldn't take it, so much love that it dispelled any fear or dread of what that
night or the next day might bring. For a moment, there were just the two of
them, Bryce and Hunt. For a moment, there were only the souls and bodies of
the two, nothing else mattered.
Just Hunt. And just Bryce.
Then she kissed him again, and then there was no more conversation.
Hunt's tongue responded to hers with equal intensity, and the weight of his
body on hers was joy, comfort, and home. Home… he was home. Her ability to
teleport him had only been a confirmation. Home wasn't a place or a thing, it
was him.
Wherever Hunt was… there was her home. She would find him in the middle
of galaxies, if necessary.
Hunt removed Bryce's long-sleeved blouse gently, lovingly. She, in turn,
basically ripped off the black shirt he was wearing.
Hunt laughed, standing up to remove his own belt and unzip his pants.
—So impatient.
She rubbed one thigh against the other, desperate to get some friction.
Especially when his impressive erection popped out and…
- Without underwear? — Bryce muttered, choking.

Hunt smiled a little.
— None of the underwear they gave me on the Deep Freighter was big
enough for this. — He held his own dick and started moving his hand up and
down, and she grunted when she saw the drop of moisture forming on the head
of his dick. —Now let's see what kind of panties you're wearing, Quinlan.
His pupils dilated with desire as he pulled down her leggings. Bryce lifted
his hips, the bedsprings squeaking, and Hunt laughed at the sound.
However, he stopped laughing when he saw the cherry-red G-string.

—Is that what they gave you on the Freighter of the Deep?
— Not on the Freighter of the Deep. — She smiled as she kicked off
her leggings, exposing her tiny red lace panties. — I got it from Morven
Castle… the guest rooms had several of these still in the packaging.
Hunt's booming laugh made her starlight shine, and Bryce lost her
breath as he grabbed her knees, one in each hand, and spread her legs
wide.
— If that asshole wasn't dead, I'd send him a letter of thanks.
Hunt pressed his mouth to the front of her panties and let out a sigh.
“Damn, Quinlan,” he murmured against her body, and Bryce threaded

her hand through his silky hair. Hunt slipped his finger under the fabric of
her G-string, teasing her. — Damn.
She grabbed the sides of her own panties, unable to speak anymore.
Hunt did the job for Bryce by removing the G-string with cruel, brutal
slowness. She groaned, but he twirled the panties around his finger before
setting them aside.
— It wouldn't be good to tear up this precious little thing.
— I'm going to tear you apart if you don't come inside me right now —
she declared, panting, opening her legs wider.
She almost came when she saw the absolute need, the ravenous
hunger on Hunt's face. Especially when very, very slowly he raised his eyes
to hers, and in them he saw pure lightning.
“Hunt,” Bryce pleaded, and he advanced on her.
He held his partner's hips, pulling her up, placing her at exactly the
angle he wanted as he entered her in one long, smooth movement.
Bryce moaned as he felt his size, filling every part of his insides, and
dug his fingers into the firm muscles of the male's ass, holding him there
for a moment. Reveling in the feeling of her own body settling around him,
the weight of his body on top of hers.
- As? — Hunt panted against her hair. — How can it be so fucking hot
every time?
She dug her fingers in further, urging him to move. He withdrew until he
left almost just the head of his cock inside, then inserted it again, hard
enough to make her moan again.
- You like this way? — He adjusted the angle of her hips again, as he
pleased. — Do you like my cock deep inside you?
She couldn't do more than nod. He rewarded her with another long
thrust that made her see stars.
There were… there were real stars dancing around them,
filling the room.
“Quinlan,” he whispered, eyes wide at the stars.
Only she needed more friction, more pleasure. Held the

own breast, squeezing, twisting the rigid nipple between his fingers.
“Fuck,” he murmured and exploded, thrusting into her again, so deep
and so hard that the movement pushed them both higher.
in bed.
Another thrust, and lightning began to flash across the shoulders.

of Hunt, by the wings, a strip upon his forehead, like a crown…
She raised one of her hands, which glowed, and the lightning flashed from it.
it wrapped around Bryce's fingers, shocking her lightly.
Hunt pulled away, and her moan of complaint turned into one of pure
pleasure as he placed her on her stomach and entered her again, the fit of
his cock so tight inside her body that Bryce could barely hold on.
Starlight emanated from her, and his lightning grazed his wife's back,
leaving ecstasy in its wake.
“Hunt,” she murmured in a moan, her climax about to arrive.
The male dug his fingers into her hips.

— Cum for me, Bryce.
The orgasm invaded her body, emanated from her body. The female's
starlight turned on, and the room lit up to the point of blinding the eye. Hunt
continued to make strong moves and
rhythmic, and his lightning was between her thighs, was in her very
blood, and everything she was and everything he was came together
in such light, such power…
The male's hoarse scream was the only warning before Hunt spilled
himself inside Bryce, which made her come again, knowing how deep
he had entered her, how much he had marked her.
He brought his fingers to his partner's clitoris, stroking her throughout
her climax, amplifying everything. The female stretched her body,
pressing her back into his chest as Hunt's fingers continued to circle,
and there had never been a more perfect moment than that, as wave
after wave of pleasure raged and emanated from Bryce's body.
And then the world went still, and the light went out, and they both
knelt on the bed, with Bryce's entire body pressed against Hunt's, one
of his hands between her legs, the other cupping the center of her
body. He placed several kisses on the area between his wife's neck
and shoulder.
“Bryce,” he murmured against her skin, his chest heaving against
the female's back. — Bryce.
She placed her hand over Hunt's, keeping him between her legs,
as if she could freeze that moment, prevent the next sunrise from
arriving.
He shuddered, kissing her again.
— I can… Fuck, I can feel you. Like, on me.
She turned her body to look at his shocked and devastated face.
—
It's as if that part of you that was... Made, or whatever you want to
call it, was in me. As if that piece of you was nestled there.
“That's good,” she replied, kissing his jaw. Inside her, his lightning
lingered, energizing her like a small sun. She continued, breathlessly:
— No matter what happens tomorrow, I'll have that piece of you with
me. Giving me strength.
She could almost summon lightning. It flowed under the skin, so
full of possibilities that she had no idea how she would sleep.
Hunt pulled her back against him, hugging her tight as he

He positioned the two of them to lie down on the squeaky bed.
“Sleep, Quinlan,” he whispered, his mouth touching her skin.
female hair. — I'm with you, no matter what happens.
Ithan left Tharion recovering from a dose of the antidote he had taken. The
merman's reaction was so intense that the pipes in the House of Flame and
Shadow had burst due to the spike in his water magic. Hypaxia would be
quite busy, keeping the House in order.
So Ithan had gone to the Lair. Which was now… his.

Well, it would never be his, considering it belonged to the wolves that
made it their home, but it was his responsibility.
He found Perry in the guard booth again, scribbling in a notebook. He
tapped the glass to get her attention, and when her eyes widened, Ithan
smiled.
— Working or taking a break? — provoked the wolf.
But she jumped to her feet, throwing the door wide open.
— Sorry, I was just...
“Per, it's me,” he replied, alarmed.
She straightened her posture, standing at attention, as Sabine preferred.
But what the hell. He would deal with that later. For now… He sniffed, trying
to interpret the subtle change in her scent. It was still that mixture of
strawberries and cinnamon that he had known all his life, but with the
antidote... He couldn't
could decipher. It had gotten so strong right after she took the antidote, but
then it had subsided.
There was no time to ponder, to question why an omega was in front of
him again. Ithan peered through the open gates of the Lair.
- Where is everybody?
Perry moved, shifting her body between her feet, uneasily.
— They… uh… left.

Ithan was left without a reaction.
— What do you mean “they left”?
Had the Rio Queen already begun the evacuation? He had come here to
warn everyone that perhaps it would be better to stay quiet in the Blue Court
for a few weeks, but perhaps she had already managed to warn them.
— What happened shook everyone — Perry explained.

“They are loyal to you, Ithan, but they are worried. Everyone left the city. They
said they wanted to wait until after New Year's to see how things… um…
would play out.
In a couple months.
Ithan assessed the fear in her eyes. Not for him, but…
- Where is your sister? he asked softly.
The wolf in him began to bristle, growling at the adversary he knew was
near.
“Amelie led the way out,” Perry replied, swallowing hard.
— I think he wanted to make sure everyone got to their destination.
But soon after, she lowered her eyes.

— Without a doubt — confirmed Ithan. Perry shifted his weight by one foot
to the other again. — And why didn't you go?
“Someone had to stay to warn you,” she murmured, with
cheeks blushing.
“I find it hard to believe your sister made you stay.
— She wanted me to go, but… I couldn't leave the Lair. They relocated
Primo to the lobby… I think some wanted
stay for the Sailboat, but those who were scared wanted to leave. It didn't feel
right to leave his body there. Alone.
Tears glistened in her emerald eyes, a genuine mourning for the deceased
wolf.
The aggression that was growing inside Ithan was curbed by pain, by
loyalty on her face. He squeezed her shoulder.
— Thanks for staying, Per.
She followed him into the Lair, pressing an internal button that closed the
gates behind them both. Ithan stood in the grassy meadow, watching the
park's trees bend in the cool breeze.
They had cleaned up the blood at the entrance to the building. The bodies of
Sabine and the Astronomer…
— I threw them in the sewer — revealed Perry, with contained anger,
interpreting the look that Ithan gave to the place where the bodies had been.
— They don't deserve a Sailboat.
Mainly Sabine.
He was taken by surprise at the wolf's act of rebellion, which was usually
peaceful, but he nodded.
— Rotting in the shitty city seems like a good fate for Sabine — he
declared, and Perry let out a laugh.
It wasn't a fun tone. At that point, fun was not a
feeling that belonged to both of them.
- Where did you go? — Perry questioned, hesitantly, a sign that she was
still evaluating his emotions.
As a friend, as an alpha and a cousin. Discovering how far you could
move forward with the questions. —
It's a long story, but I came back to take everyone to safety.
He explained about the River Queen and the Blue Court.

—But now I have to go to the Eternal City — he concluded.
Perry studied him for a moment, evidently understanding

more than what he had shared.
— So are we going to face the asteri?
— We're not going to do anything. I'll face them,” he corrected.

—But you are Cousin. Speak for all Valbaran Wolves. Your choices
are our choices. If you're going to face the Asteri, we're going to face the
Asteri.
— Then repudiate me — he said — That's -, but I'll go.
not what I'm saying. I don't disagree with you... Things need to
change, and change for the better, but the wolves are scattered.
In holiday homes, traveling… too far to reach the Blue Court before you
reach the Eternal City.
- And?
— So you need to tell them that before you go. Give them a few hours
to find shelter, whether in the Blue Court or somewhere in the jungle. As
soon as the asteri see you, Primo, facing them, they will go after the
wolves to punish them. And after what happened in the Meadows... —
Her eyes showed nothing but pain.
— I don't think there is any atrocity they wouldn't commit.
Ithan opened his mouth to object. He needed to hand over the bullet and the
antidote for Bryce at that moment. It might even be too late.
But I couldn't live with the death of another wolf on my conscience.
And if even one cub ended up hurt because he hadn't given them enough
time to hide...
— Three hours — agreed Ithan. — You know how to send
encrypted message?
Perry nodded.
—Then start spreading the word. — He looked at the entrance to the
building behind the pillars and the stairs that led there. —And I'm going
to start digging a grave.
— Grave? — Perry complained. — But the Sailboat…
— There will be no more sailboats. The Sub-King died — informed Ithan
quietly.
In response, he received stunned silence. Then Perry replied: —
But… the
Bone Quarter. — It's a lie. All lie.
— Ithan gestured to the cell phone in her hand. — Spread the word,
then we'll talk. I'll tell you everything I know.
Perry kept his gaze on Ithan, and in his eyes you could see concern,
shock and determination. Then the wolf started typing on the phone.
— I'm glad, Ithan — she declared softly — that you're Cousin.
At least one of us is, he almost said, but just nodded in thanks.
***
Tharion stuffed the last weapon into his backpack and turned to where
Hypaxia stored vials of the antidote in her leather bag.
- How many do you have? he asked.
The water whispered in his ears, his heart and his veins. A steady flow of
magic, as if there was a raging river running within it. A little effort and the
thing would come free.
— Two dozen, more or less. It’s not enough,” she replied softly.
— You're going to need entire factories to distribute this around — said

Tharion.
She handed over the bag.
- Here. Don't swing too much along the way. Athalar's lightning is holding
everything together... The slightest movement can destabilize the doses to
the point where they end up not working.
The merman tilted his head.
- You do not come?
He planned to go to the Asteri palace… the most likely place for a
confrontation between Bryce and the Asteri. Gods, the mere idea was absurd.
Suicidal. Yet, for his friends, for Midgard, he would go, with the antidote in tow.
Hypaxia's eyes shone with that greenish light.

— No... I'll stay here.
Tharion measured the weight of those words and sat on the edge of
Roga's table. The witch was away, dealing with some feud between vampires
and medwitches in town, because, apparently, vampires had attacked a blood
bank.
- Why not?
— Someone has to deal with the broken pipes in this House — Hypaxia
teased.
Tharion blushed lightly. It would take a long time for them to forget his
outburst after ingesting the antidote. But it was so much power… suddenly, he
was overflowing with water, and it was music, wrath, destruction and life.
— Come on, Pax. Tell me,” he insisted.

She looked at her hands.
— Because if everything goes wrong there, someone needs to stay here.
To help Lunathion.
— If everything goes wrong there, everyone is screwed. Sorry to say, but
you being here won't make much of a difference.
— I want to continue making the antidote — she added. —
We need to stabilize it more. I want to start now.
He looked at his friend… he really looked.
- Are you well?
Her eyes, so changed since she assumed the throne of Flame and
Shadow, began to focus on the ground.
- No.
— Pax…
“But I have no choice,” she interrupted, straightening her posture. Then he
nodded toward the doors. — You should take your wife and go.
— Do I hear a reproachful tone?

Hypaxia gave a gentle smile.
— No. Well, I disapprove of much of what led you to
marry her, but not… the marriage itself.
— Okay, okay, get the password to lecture me.
— I think maybe Sathia will be good for you, Tharion.
- Oh yes?
Her smile became mysterious. -
AND.
Tharion returned the smile.
— Destroy them, Pax.
— We hope not literally — Hypaxia replied, giving a wink.
Smiling in spite of himself, Tharion left Roga's office. He had left Sathia in
a small guest room to shower and rest, although they both knew that no
amount of rest in the world would prepare her for the madness they were
about to face.
He had offered to send her to the Blue Court, but she had refused, and to
leave her in Avallen they would have needed to go a long way, so she would
go along.
Tharion knocked on the guest room door and did not wait for
response before opening.
The room was empty. There was only a note on the bed, wrapped in her
lingering scent. Tharion read it once, then read it again, before it really sank in.
I can't leave Colin in her hands. I hope you understand.

Good luck. And thank you for everything you did for me.
Sathia had left him. That's what that “thank you” at the end meant. It was
propitious… He had done worse to the River Queen's daughter, and yet…
Tharion placed the note on the bed again, carefully. He didn't blame her.
It was her choice to save her ex-boyfriend from being a drugged killer... and a
noble choice, indeed. No, he didn't blame her.
After all, it was really better if she didn't accompany him to the city.
Eternal. She would be safer.
Still, Tharion stared at the note on the bed for a long, long time.
And although he knew he was leaving to challenge the Asteri, probably to

die trying... As he left the House of Flame and Shadow, and Lunathion herself,
Tharion couldn't stop thinking about her.
***
The video that Hunt and Bryce had recorded was scheduled to go public at any
moment. Ruhn was very proud of his sister. She knew how to make the most of a bad
situation.
The moment arrived just after midnight, with a keystroke by Declan.
Sitting on the floor of a windowless room in the hideout that

Lidia had arranged it, Ruhn looked at where she was and said: — Just a few
hours until dawn, and then we go into action.
Lidia stared into space, her knee shaking nervously. The female had said little
since they received the news of the kidnapping of their own children. And even though
Ruhn was dying to touch her in the quiet moments, he kept his hands away. She had
other things to worry about.
— I should never have returned to the Deep Freighter —

Lidia finally commented.
— If Pollux managed to find out about his children — countered
spirit —, he would have found out whether you were on the ship or not.
— You should have let me die in the sea, Haldren. So he
I would have no reason to go after them.
- Hey. Ruhn took her hand, squeezing it firmly. She looked back at him. — None
of this is your fault.
She shook her head, and Ruhn touched her face gently.
— You can feel whatever you want now, but when dawn comes, when we leave
here, you're going to have to block all those feelings and become the Doe again. One
last time. Without the Doe, we won't be able to enter the palace.
She held his gaze, then leaned forward, leaning against

to test na de Ruhn.
He absorbed her scent, inhaling deeply… but realized that the scent was already
marking him. It had been there, hidden inside him, since the first time.
- I can…? — She swallowed hard. - We can…?

“Say what you want,” he said, kissing her cheek.
She pulled away and stroked his jaw.
— You. I want you.
- He is sure?
She was dealing with such a heavy burden. With her children in the
hands of the Asteri, he wouldn't blame her if…
— I need to not think for a while — she explained, then added: — And…
I need to touch you. — Lidia caressed his mouth with her fingers. — Really
touching your body.
He closed his eyes, feeling the touch.
— Say what you want, Lidia.
She brushed her mouth against his, and he shivered.
— I want you… all of you. Inside of me.
Ruhn smiled.
- I'm happy to help.
He let Lidia dictate the pace, following the female's movements. He
returned every kiss. He let her demonstrate where she wanted him to touch,
lick, taste.
Luckily, the parts she really wanted him to focus on were the same ones
that held Ruhn's interest. Feeling her sweetness on his tongue almost made
him cum in his pants... and that was before Lidia's breathless moans filled
his ears with the most beautiful song he had ever heard.
— Ruhn — she murmured, but she didn't ask him to stop, so he

continued moving his tongue against the sensitive skin, giving long licks,
wishing very much that she still had her lip piercing, knowing that he could
have made her very distracted by it... but there would be time later.
Lidia arched her hips on the bed, and the female's orgasm made Ruhn
begin to squirm, his cock desperate for any sensation.
An instant later, she put Ruhn out of his misery. The flame burned in her
eyes as she unzipped the male.
Then the graceful hand enveloped him…
He resisted her first movement, and was about to start begging when
Lidia pushed him onto his back on the bed, placed herself on top of him,
with one leg on each side, and guided his cock with her hand to her entrance.
Ruhn ran his hands through Lidia's golden hair, the silky strands spilling
through his fingers, and kept his gaze on hers.
while Lidia sat on it.

Ruhn gritted his teeth at the feeling of heat, how tight it was,
gasping at the wave of pleasure, the feeling of perfection, the perfect
fit…
She settled over Ruhn, fully seated, so breathless that Ruhn held
her hands, kissing her fingers. The female closed her eyes and then
began to move her hips… And there was nothing more to be said or
done as she rode.
He lifted his hips, and her moans grew louder. The male wished
he could devour the sound. He contented himself with getting up and
kissing her heartily. Her legs wrapped around his waist. This made
him penetrate her much deeper, and Ruhn lost control. Ferocity took
him at the feeling of being so deep inside her, the smell and the
taste…
Lidia responded to each thrust, returning his savagery with her
own, with her teeth grazing the male's neck and chest. Each thrust
made him slide inside her, and damn, he was about to die from so
much pleasure…
Then Lidia threw her head back, and the delicate muscles
contracted around him as she came, making him give in to ecstasy
soon after. Ruhn continued thrusting into the sensation, the fierce
part of him reveling in the act of cumming inside her, and she was his
and he was hers, and there was a name for it, but the word escaped
Ruhn's mind.
Lidia lay still, and Ruhn supported Lidia's weight as she leaned
back against him, their bodies a tangle of arms and legs, his cock still
deep inside. Her breath brushed his skin, and he continued caressing
the line of Lidia's spine.
She was there. He was there.
For as long as Urd allowed them to stay.
***
Lidia continued to lie in Ruhn's arms as the hours passed, sleep

escaping her.
That union had been everything she had wanted, everything she had needed.
The female had never felt so safe, so revered. However, their children remained in the
hands of the Asteri, in the hands of Pollux.
The hours passed in a trickle. Lidia blocked the part of herself that insisted on
cataloging every torture that could be inflicted on Brann and Actaeon. The tortures that
she herself had inflicted on so many others.
Maybe that was the punishment. Punishment for so many things he had done.
Ruhn moved, and Lidia snuggled closer to him, taking in the male's scent, enjoying
the strength of his body pressed against her.
your.
And he tried not to think about tomorrow.

The next morning, hiding in an unmarked van in a dirty alley in the Eternal City,
Ruhn glanced over to where Lidia sat, her face stern against the siding, and
approached.
She had barely slept, and Ruhn didn't blame her. After catching a glimpse of
her haggard face early in the morning, he remained nearby, offering as much
comfort as he could, as they slipped discreetly out of hiding and into the van.
new.
Ruhn placed his hand on her knee and announced: —
Another hour or so, and we enter the palace.
Another hour until Declan confirmed that the asteri were very distracted by the
video they had released to the world.
Based on the initial reports Dec had sent in this morning, it had turned into a full-
blown disaster. The footage had been shown all over the news and shared on
social media. Dec also confirmed that he had hacked the imperial network and
discovered that, that morning, the asteri and advisors would meet to discuss the
repercussions. The news about the parasite hit home. All the media outlets were
vibrating with the buzz, and the footage
from Bryce killing Micah, to the allegations about how Danika and the
pack had died…
It didn't matter that the imperial network had deleted the video
almost immediately. It was already out in the world, circulating on
private servers, being downloaded on cell phones, watched and
analyzed consecutively. Imperial trolls insisted it was a lie, posting
comments about it being a faked video, but Dec made sure that the
footage of Bryce running through the streets of Lunathion last spring,
saving the entire city, was also
leak.
And there were people out there who remembered that, who had
seen her running to save them. They spoke in her name, confirming
not only that she had saved the city from Hell but also from the sulfur
missiles that the Asteri had launched.
The asteri were very busy that morning. As planned. And once the
emergency meeting had begun, it would be time to act.
— A single slip, and my children... — began Lidia, swallowing hard.
“Leave fear aside,” Ruhn instructed, granting the sincerity she had
so often offered him. — Focus on the task, not the “what if…?”
“He's right,” Bryce added from where she and Athalar were sitting
nearby, leaning on each other. Flynn and Dec lead the way, with Flynn
monitoring the streets and Dec handling a laptop perched on his knee,
hacking the Imperial military control system to access the mec-suits. A
few more hours, and they would be inside. — Leave the burdens aside
for today.
Lidia straightened her posture.
— My children are not a burden…
"No," Bryce corrected, "they're not, but you know that palace better
than anyone." Any distraction will cost us
caro.
— I know Pollux better than anyone — said Lidia, looking into
space. — And that's why it's unbearable to sit here.
— Rest while you can, Lidia — advised Athalar —,

because soon, this will all turn into Hell.
“Literally,” Bryce added with a cheer.
annoying.
***
Ithan buried Cousin in the heart of the meadow, so that his soul could feel the playful
joy of the puppies for generations to come.
If any of them survived this.
Tharion had called, asking where he was, and Ithan had ordered the merman to
head to the Eternal City without him. To try to find Bryce and Athalar and deliver the
antidote to them or any of their friends before they went all in on the asteri. If the
antidote had enhanced him, he couldn't even imagine what it would do to Bryce and
Athalar.
Ithan shouldered his backpack and the Godslayer Rifle, which Roga had borrowed,
and left the Lair's main building. Perry was still guarding the cabin outside the gates.
— Did you get some rest? — Ithan asked, poking his head into the cabin. From
the purple marks under the wolf's eyes, he knew the answer before she even shook
her head. — I told you to sleep.
— I wanted to stay here in case anyone showed up looking for help or with
questions — she explained.
He felt his heart sink at her consideration…her kindness.
—And did anyone show up?

“No,” she replied, rubbing her eyes. — You'd better go to
the Blue Court.
She looked into his eyes.
- Are you already going?
“I am,” he confirmed.
Ithan hadn't slept much either, but he had forced his body to rest. I knew I would
need all my strength for what was to come.
Perry's cell phone vibrated and she checked the screen, then frowned.
- What there was?
She looked at her cell phone and read aloud:
— “Bryce Quinlan and Hunt Athalar killed the archangels Micah and
Sandriel last spring.” There’s… there’s footage of Bryce…
Ithan's heart quickened. It was too late. Bryce was already taking action.
- I have to go. I need to help her in any way possible,” he declared.
Perry stood up from his seat in the cockpit.

— Good luck, Ithan. I… I really hope to see you again.
He gave her a tight hug, feeling the wolf's cinnamon and strawberry
scent envelop him. As it always was... as if I hadn't taken the antidote. He
put his curiosity aside again.
— I hope to see you again too — he replied with his mouth pressed
against Perry's hair, then walked away.
Her eyes were full of tears.
- Please take care.
He adjusted his backpack straps.
— Go to the Blue Court, Perry.
***
— I'm inside the imperial network — Declan announced a few hours later.
Hunt finished equipping himself with the few weapons he had picked up
from those that Fury Axtar had managed to transport in that helicopter: two
pistols and a long knife. It wasn't much, but Axtar had made good choices.
They were all powerful and reliable parts.
— These mech-suits are no small thing, no — Dec shuddered — but I'm
ready when they are.
Hunt checked the gun strapped to his thigh holster. The magazine was
loaded. There were extra ammunition in the back pocket. He could have
enjoyed the comfort of the Umbra Mortis suit with the double swords
sheathed on his back, but two pistols, a knife in his boot, and lightning would
have to suffice. It would have to be enough.
Just Hunt. He could live with that.

Hunt searched for Bryce with his eyes. Aster's fist was peeking out
from behind her ponytail, and the Truth Teller had been pinned to one
of her thighs. She had strapped a pistol to her other thigh, with only a
clip to reload.
Hell led the armies, but they fought with power, fangs, teeth and
brute force.
- Right. Does anyone have any questions about the plan? asked
Bryce.
- Which one? — replied Ruhn. — You have, like, seven plans. “It's
better
to be overprepared than underprepared,” Bryce replied. — The plan
is simple: keep the asteri distracted by releasing Hell and the Fallen…
while Athalar and I sneak into the palace and destroy the primalux core.
— Without forgetting — Hunt intervened, sarcastically — to free

Lidia's children, destroy Pollux, get close enough to the asteri to
annihilate them from the planet...
He raised his fingers to count the tasks.
“Yes, yes,” confirmed Bryce, gesturing nonchalantly. She gave Lidia
a wink, flashing a smile that Hunt knew was intended to calm the Doe.
— Ready to beat up those assholes?
Lidia raised her head. He carried a knife next to his body and a
pistol. Just that.
It was funny that they were heading into the Asteri palace with so
little weapons, but it wasn't worth thinking about it too much. They had
no choice.
— Once we get out of the van, we will have two minutes until the
street cameras alert the asteri technicians that we are in the city, if they
identify us — informed Lidia.
— And that's why my job is to keep the cameras out of sight.
you,” Declan replied from the back of the van.
— And my job is to keep us moving around the city to avoid being
discovered — added Flynn from the driver's seat.
“As soon as I send a message, be ready to pick us up,” Ruhn warned.
— We've done this before, remember? — Flynn replied to Ruhn. —

Meeting Lidia when she freed you and Athalar was a rehearsal for the big
show.
“I don't care what you have to do,” Lidia said to Flynn and Dec, “or
who you leave behind, but get my kids out of this town and take them to
the coast. — She looked at them intensely and added: — Please.
Dec nodded.
— We'll take care of this for you, Lidia. — Saying her name seemed
to make Dec uncertain, but then he focused again. — We will protect your
children. Just do what you have to do, and we will be wherever you need
us.
She nodded too, with teary eyes.
- Thanks.
Hunt looked at Bryce, who was watching silently. It wasn't a good sign.
— Do you remember the way to the throne room? — Lidia asked,

noticing Bryce's gaze.
“I remember,” Bryce confirmed, turning to Hunt. — The wings were
still there until a few weeks ago… Let's hope Rigelus didn't change the
decoration.
— He won't have taken them out of there. He abhors changes —
assured Lidia.
The words hung in the air. Hunt swallowed hard, feeling the
throat dry out. They would really do that. He would really do that.
Hadn't he learned his lesson the previous two times, damn it? With
the Fallen, and then with recent events?
Try a third time…
“I remember,” Bryce said softly… just to himself, even with the others
listening, “each movement of Micah's sword as he cut off his wings. I
remember how there was nothing we could do to stop it…to stop them. I
remember they sold you to Sandriel again, and at that time we couldn't
stop them either. I remember every damn moment, Hunt.
— Her eyes glowed with absolute anger and focus. — Only today we can stop
them.
Hunt held his partner's gaze and let her courage sink in.
let it be his, let her strength be his guiding light.
“I promised myself the day Micah cut off his wings,” Bryce continued,
speaking only to him, “that they would pay for it.
For what they did.
Starlight flickered around her head in a shadow of that crown of stars.
Nobody said anything. Bryce stood, heading towards the doors.

back of the van. The world, the asteri, the end awaited them ahead.
She looked over her shoulder at the entire group. His eyes looked into
Hunt's.
And, before stepping out into the light, Bryce declared:
— For love, anything is possible.
It was too easy to enter the Asteri palace. Lidia knew where all the entrances
were, but even though she knew the layout of the place like the back of her
hand, it was too easy to enter through the service doors that led to the huge
waste processing station.
Too easy to slip down one of the smelly pipes and land in a trash room
on a floor below.
Just when the four of them were in the tiny, fetid closet
It was underground that they paused and looked at each other.
“Good luck,” Ruhn said to his sister, perhaps for the last time.
But Bryce smiled a gentle, soft smile, and although he had shown only
sheer determination in the van a few minutes earlier, it was with a loving
expression that he responded, “You've brought so much joy to my life
too, Ruhn.
At that moment he remembered saying those words before she
disappeared through the Gate. You have brought so much joy to my life,
Bryce. It felt like an eternity had passed since then.
She said nothing more, and Ruhn was speechless as he
Bryce, with Athalar behind, opened the door and walked out.
For a moment, Ruhn waited silently beside Lidia, the stench of the trash
almost making him throw out his meager breakfast.
of bread and oil that he had eaten. Even so, he made eye contact with Lidia
in the dim light.
And even though she needed to be the Doe that day, even though she
needed to be that cold-blooded female again, he leaned in and brushed his
mouth against hers. Only once. Then he whispered, finally giving a name to
the feeling he hadn't dared to admit until now: — If I don't have the
chance to say it later... I love you.
Lidia was left without a reaction, her golden eyes shining.
— Spirit.
But he didn't wait for a response, rejection or denial. He opened the door
a little and peered into the hallway.
“The coast is clear,” he muttered, drawing his pistol.
Hopefully Dec was doing his own thing.
Hoping that the asteri, distracted trying to contain the effects of Bryce
and Hunt's message, wouldn't even dream that their own house was about
to turn into Hell, Ruhn went out into the hallway, with Lidia close behind.
And then, shrouded in his shadow as they crept through the heart of the
empire, the two began the hunt for Lidia's children.
***
They'd almost been caught a few times, and Hunt wished once again that he
was in the Umbra Mortis suit, if only for the benefit of enhanced hearing to
detect politicians or officials loitering nearby.
If it were up to Hunt, the politicians could go to hell, but the officials... If

the gods allowed, when the time came, they would be able to escape; When
Declan hacked the asteri's alert system, their cell phones would vibrate with
the evacuation order to leave the palace as quickly as possible, and they
would heed the warning.
Hunt's heart pounded throughout his body as he and Bryce hid in the
shadows of a massive statue of Polaris, the female's hands raised in victory.
Past the statue was a familiar set of doors. The entire hallway was exactly
the same as it had been when Hunt had last seen it, before his lightning and
Rigelus's power had sent everything flying: the busts of the asteri on one side
of the wall, the windows overlooking the seven hills of the Eternal City on the
other, and, somewhere out there, advancing along the main road of the
Stations of the Cross… Dec and Flynn would be waiting.
Just not for them. Hunt knew that he and Bryce might not
come back from that fight.
If they managed to destroy the primalux core and eliminate the asteri's
renewable power source, they would have to get close enough to those
bastards for Bryce to use his sword and knife. To unite them using starlight
and try their luck with whatever happened with a portal to nowhere.
Theia had been afraid of that. Aidas had warned them to choose life, damn
it, if the portal was too dangerous. It didn't bode well. But what alternative did
they have?
There were a lot of what ifs, a lot of unknowns. It was an even more fragile
plan than the last time they had snuck into that palace, and even if they had all
agreed to the plan together, if it failed, if Bryce or any of them died...
No. I wouldn't follow that line of thinking again. He had made mistakes and
made bad decisions in the past, but fighting against tyranny, against brutality,
would never be the wrong choice.
Hunt looked at his partner, her attention fixed on the hallway. At the Gate
at the end. When he felt his gaze on him, Bryce formed the word “Go” with his
mouth and motioned for him to follow. And Hunt went, as he would go
anywhere, as long as he went with her.
For the first time in his life, it seemed like Urd was listening as he and
Bryce walked through the doors into the empty throne room. He looked at the
towering wall of the wings of the Fallen behind the seven crystal thrones.
And there, in the center, posted like fresh trophies, were his Umbra Mortis
helmet and costume.
***
Bryce held the Mask, its golden surface sparkling among the crystals in the
impersonal throne room. The wings of the Fallen hung on the wall, a fluttering
array of colors and shapes and sizes. So many lives, given to that moment.
Hunt fit the last part of the suit onto his body, then placed the Umbra Mortis
helmet on his head. Bryce hadn't questioned it when he'd taken the suit off the
wall. I knew why he wanted it.
Just as he knew that his wings, affixed above Rigelus's throne, could not
remain there.
Hunt would wear the suit and helmet once again. It wouldn't be Umbra
Mortis wearing the suit, but Hunt. Her Hunt.
And together, they would put an end to it.
She wished Ithan had arrived in time with the antidote.
Hypaxia, but there was no way to postpone that… not for a minute.
Bryce ran his thumbs over the Mask's smooth face. It looked like the death
mask of some long-dead king. Could it be that it had been made using the
mold of an asteri's face?
Modeled after the detestable visage of a daglan from that other world?
“Bryce,” Hunt warned, his voice low and distorted behind his helmet.
She looked at the Shadow of Death, standing there. He drew the two
swords from the back of his suit, twirling them in his hands.
— It has to be now.
Everything she had ever done in her life, every step… had led to that
time.
There, in that chamber, with the wings of the Fallen nobles all around. With
Hunt, one of the last warriors.
But not anymore.
Bryce placed the Mask over his face and closed his eyes. The metal
adhered to his skin. It sucked your face, your soul...
The world became diluted again. Alive, not alive. Breathing, no
breathing. Dead… undead.
The starlight inside her lit up brightly, as if saying, “Hello, old friend.” Yes,
ancient magic knew the Masquerade.
He understood the deepest secrets of the object.
Bryce turned to the wings. And in the Mask's shadowy vision, where the
wings were affixed, most had a flickering light. The core of a soul. The last
remnants of their existence, shining like a wall of stars.
She had been right: they had never been granted Sailboats. Outside the
final offense to fallen warriors, the shame of being deprived of a blessed
afterlife. That would prove to be the downfall of the Asteri. Those souls, which
had been left to wander for centuries, would now be claimed by Bryce.
One thought, and her will became theirs. The Masquerade called, and the
souls of the Fallen responded, emerging from the wall like a swarm of fireflies.
A rustling sound filled the air. At first, the wings began to flutter slowly, like
butterflies testing their newly acquired bodies. The flapping of wings filled the
throne room, the world. A blustery wind from Hunt caused the pins to loosen.
Except for two sets—one familiar gray, the other a gleaming white
—, everyone freed themselves.

And then the throne room was filled with wings: white, black, and gray,
rising, the sparks of souls glowing brightly within them, visible only to Bryce,
who watched through the Masquerade.
Hunt and Bryce were in the eye of the storm, her hair
flapping in the wind and the downy feathers brushing against your skin.
A spark from Hunt's lightning struck the two pairs of wings still affixed to
the wall. His wings and Isaiah's. They burst into flames, burning until they were
nothing but ash floating on the breeze of a thousand wings, finally free of that
place.
Another gusty wind blew from Hunt and the doors to the hall opened. The
windows lining the hallway exploded.
And the wings of the Fallen flew to the freedom of the blue sky outside.
The wings emptied the throne room, like water running down a drain,
leaving a lone figure on the doorstep, staring at them.
Rigelus.
Feathers fluttered around him.
—But what do you think you are doing?
The Radiant Hand was foaming with rage, its power shining.
He entered the room, and his eyes focused straight on Bryce's face.
Maybe it was because of the Masquerade, maybe she had been pushed
beyond her own limits, but she felt no fear at all as she looked at the Radiant
Hand of the Asteri and said:
— Fixing an error.
But Rigelus narrowed his eyes at the Mask.
— You are carrying a weapon that you have no right to wield.
In the streets outside there were people screaming at the sight of the crowd
of wings overhead.
Dead and undead… Rigelus' nature confused the Masquerade.
Alive and not alive. Breathing and not breathing. He couldn't make up his
mind about the Radiant Hand, and he seemed to be withdrawing, moving
away from Bryce...
The female focused. You obey me.
The Mask stopped in place and remained his servant.
Rigelus looked at Hunt in his battle suit and helmet, but said to Bryce,
“You're a long way
from home, Bryce Quinlan.
He took a step forward. The fact that he had not yet attacked her was
proof of his caution.
Hunt's lightning snaked across the ground.
However, Bryce pointed behind Rigelus. To one of the hills beyond the
city walls, where the wings had rested on the dry grass. They covered the top
of the hill, fluttering slowly, like a flock of butterflies stopping to rest.
Bryce commanded: Stand up, as you once did.

Ice colder than what had been on Nena flowed around her, towards the
wings that were now far away. She could feel Hunt's pain, but she didn't take
her eyes off Rigelus.
— You have no idea what powers you're playing with, girl.
— warned Rigelus. — The Mask will curse your soul…
“Let's save ourselves the threats this time,” Bryce interrupted, pointing to
the window again. This time for the army
which had positioned itself behind the soul-bearing wings. — I think you
have bigger problems.
Then she smiled — a predator's smile, a queen's smile —,
as the armies of Hell took the hill.
“Just in time,” Bryce said.
Rigelus fell silent as more and more of those shadowy figures
appeared on top of the hill. Emerging from the portal that Bryce had
opened for them just on the other side, out of sight.
When he glimpsed the hordes taking over the hills, apparently coming
out of nowhere, seeing the three princes marching ahead…
People started shouting in the streets. Another sign… for Declan. To
disseminate the evacuation order under the guise of an Imperial
Emergency Alert. Every cell phone in the city would vibrate with the
warning to escape beyond the city walls… to the coast, if possible.
Rigelus looked at the armies of Hell gathered at his door.

“Surprise,” Hunt commented.
Rigelus slowly turned back to Bryce and Hunt and smiled.
—Do you think I didn't know the moment they opened the Northern
Rift?
Bryce braced himself, mobilizing his own power as Rigelus
He raised his hand full of shining shine and concluded:
— I was waiting for you, and I planned as the situation required.
A siren sounded, an alert echoing through the city.

And in response, the Asterian Guard burst onto the streets of the
Eternal City.
— I knew as soon as you arrived at the Rift... My Harpy told me, and
I watched you through the eyes of my servant before you finished
her off.
Rigelus took another step into the throne room, power building in
his hand and slipping through the golden rings around each of his
long fingers.
Bryce and Hunt tensed, measuring the distance to the exit.
There was a smaller door between the thrones, but to reach it they would have
to turn their backs on Rigelus.
In the city, light shone and exploded… sulfur missiles. Made and
fired by the Asterian Guard on the terraces, heading towards the
armies of Hell. Tracing a golden arc, the missiles hit the dark ranks
at the top of Mount Hermon. The earth and rocks shattered, with light
exploding.
— And like the rodents you are — continued Rigelus — I knew
they would leave an escape route for you and your allies. Straight to
Hell. I knew they would leave the Rift open.
Hunt grabbed Bryce's hand, preparing to pull them both away.
—So I sent three legions of the Asterian Guard to the Rift last
night. I think they and the sulfur missiles will find Hell
pretty empty considering all the armies are around here.

“We need to warn Aidas,” Hunt said, shaking her hand.
Bryce looked at Rigelus again… at the little triumphant smile behind him.
to have been smarter than them…
And, with a surge of power, she teleported herself and Hunt out of the
palace.
Right out in the middle of the chaos of the hills beyond the city.
***
Ruhn and Lidia advanced through the palace corridors, covered in shadows.
They had found no sign of her children. Nothing in the dungeons, and
the sight of the place had caused Ruhn to feel a shock of terror so absolute
that he almost lost control of the shadows that camouflaged them. They also
found nothing in the cells. They had advanced through the palace as quickly
as possible, still unnoticed. Dec had disabled many of the cameras, and
Ruhn's shadows did the rest. But after twenty minutes of searching in vain,
Ruhn grabbed Lidia by the arm before they headed down another corridor.
— We need to stop and reconsider where they might be —

suggested Ruhn, panting
— They're here... He brought them both here — Lidia said,
trying to free his arm.
But Ruhn held firm.
— We can't keep running around aimlessly. To think about it: where
would Pollux take them?
She gasped, eyes wide with panic, but took a deep breath.
Then again.
And that cold mask of the Doe took over the female's face.
“I know how to find them,” she said.
Ruhn didn't question it as she took off again, this time down the stairs,
down and down and down until...
The heat and humidity got to him first. Then the smell of salt.
The thousand asteri mystics snored in their bathtubs, in regimented rows

between the pillars of the corridor that seemed infinite.
“Traitor,” hissed a thin female, covered by a veil,

sitting at a table in front of the doors, standing up.
Lidia took out her pistol and, without hesitation, sent a bullet through the
female's skull. The blast shook the corridor like thunder, but the mystics
didn't even move.
Ruhn looked at Lidia, then at the place where the old female
had been, and, finally, to the blood spread on the stones...
But Lidia was already heading towards the nearest tank, towards the
commandos beside it. He started typing. Then he approached the next
mystic, and the next, and the next.
— We don't have much time until someone comes down here to find out
what that shot was — warned Ruhn.
Lidia, however, continued going from tank to tank, and he peeked at the
first monitor to read the message she had written. Where are Lidia Cervo's
children?
She stopped typing when she reached the seventh mystic and continued
by the row of bathtubs.
Ruhn moved to the door to keep an eye on it, hiding in the shadows as
he monitored the hallway and stairwell beyond. They would be lucky if it
took even a minute for the inquisitive ears to reach there...
Lidia gasped. Ruhn turned to her, but the female was already
running.
— Pollux locked them under the palace — she revealed to the
reach the door and take off, with Ruhn running alongside.
- Underneath? asked Ruhn, following her down the stairs.
— In the room with the primalux core that your sister found… under the
archives.
“Lidia,” Ruhn said, taking her arm. — This can only
be a trap. Put them in the core…
She pointed the gun at Ruhn's head.
- I go there. If it's a trap, then so be it, but I'm going.

Ruhn raised his hands.
— I know, and I'm going with you, but we have to think beyond...
She was already turning around again, the gun back at her side.
The castle was noisy, a cacophony of screams, frightened people trying to
escape as quickly as possible. That masked the sound of the two sneaking
around the place, but… Lidia was frantic, desperate. Which made her a
dangerous ally, Doe or not. She would end up dead, just like her children.
Ruhn couldn't let her put herself in danger like that.

way. If someone were to put themselves in such lethal danger…
It would be him.
Ruhn hurried down the stairs after Lidia, and when he reached her, he
unlocked his own gun.
She heard the lock click and stopped in place. She turned to him… slowly,
in disbelief. Lidia didn't look at the gun. I already knew it was there. Her eyes
focused on his. Inscrutable, cold. The eyes of the Doe.
“I can't let you end up killing yourself,” he explained.

Ruhn, his voice hoarse.
"I'll never forgive you for that," she replied, with a smile on her face.
voice like ice. - Never.
“I know,” replied Ruhn.
And he shot.
One shot, right in her thigh.

Lidia screamed in pain and crouched, the bullet having passed through the
wound and ricocheted onto the stairs behind her, the boom of the gun and her
scream forming a chorus that shattered his soul. A chorus that, luckily, was
drowned out by the chaos unfolding on the floors above.
With her hand, she pressed against the open wound, but Ruhn had aimed
far from any fatal artery, and her eyes burned with absolute, fiery rage.
- I'll kill you…

Lidia made to hold the gun on her other thigh, as if it were
even shoot him in the face.
Ruhn bolted down the stairs before she could take aim.
Sheathing his own weapon, he ran forward, leaving her bleeding behind him.
***
The Eternal City's water pipes were ancient, strange, and hostile.
Tharion hated them, especially with the power amplified in his veins,
freed from his bonds. His body and soul recognized the essence of his
surroundings, and he didn't like what he was finding.
There was no court of sea beings in the river that snaked like a snake
through the city. There was barely life there besides the opportunists and
everything that crawled in the shadows.
Up there, the world was chaos. Armies, missiles and weapons.
Down there, the sounds were muffled. The water whispered where he
should go, where he should take the bag of sealed antidotes. It flowed with
him, guiding its powerful tail, right to the railing of the riverbank. His gills
bristled as he ripped the metal away. They guided him as he swam through
the dark tunnel and turned on the aquatic headlamp he had been smart to
take with him.
And with the water carrying him, Tharion swam like never before towards
the palace of the asteri.
***
The bombs were going off, and it was so, so much worse than it had been
the previous spring. The sulfur missiles came from the city, from the Asterian
Guard hidden within it, from the mec-suits that came to life on top of Mount
Hermon...
So much destruction. Hyperfocused angelic wrath.
Atop one of the hills beyond the city, Bryce struggled to
breathing, a little dizzy, as she ripped the Mask off her face.
Hunt ran to where the Gorge Prince was, overseeing the dark creatures
swarming towards the city walls, and said:
— Time for phase two.

Bryce pulled himself together and staggered over to Aidas and Hunt.
The armies of Hell, both ground and air, all hungry and angry, were no
small feat, no, damn it.
She knew it was the only way. To have a chance, unleashing Hell had
been the only way. Still, the army was terrifying, allies or not. She needed
to trust that Aidas and the other princes had a firm grip on them.
“They're almost there,” commented Aidas, wearing armor

black similar to that of Thanatos.
Bryce deduced that his brothers were either in the middle of the fight or
overseeing the very divisions of the immense dark mass.
For now, there was nothing to be done but watch as the Asterian Guard
concluded that they had chased away the creatures and began to cross
the city walls.
There was a rustle of wings, and Isaiah and Naomi landed beside Hunt.
— Ready? — asked Isaiah, wearing the same black battle outfit as 33

— Soon — a .
replied Aidas.
The angels still kept a respectable distance from him, but at least they
no longer had disbelieving and suspicious expressions.
The Asterian Guard advanced into the hills and lower valleys, with the
mech-suits marching among them, and where they struck, demons died.
— Do you think they have any idea what is about to happen to them?
— pondered Aidas.
“No,” Hunt replied, smiling grimly. — Neither Rigelus.
Bryce put the Mask back on, and the ungodly, blood-sucking presence
consumed his soul, but the starlight within him seemed to keep the Mask
at bay.
— This will be a lesson so he doesn't think he can outsmart us —
commented Naomi.
The Asterian Guard, the white horsehair that adorned their helmets
shining brightly in the daylight, advanced through the field of demons.
The mass of mech-suits made the earth tremble.
— I think the three legions he sent to Nena are going to get quite
a shock when they discover that half of Hell's army is still there,
waiting for them — said Naomi.
With no small amount of satisfaction, Isaiah added: — They
must be warning the asteri, more or less… — he checked his cell
phone — now.
— Perfect — replied Aidas, purring. — Then we are ready.
— Sending the message to Declan — Naomi announced, typing

on her cell phone.
The fae warrior waited in the van, with the hacked Imperial military
network laid out before him.
Halfway there, the asteri mechsuits stopped in place. The Asterian
Guard paused, looking at the fancy new machines that had all failed
at the same time. The lit eyes of the mec-suits dimmed until they
disappeared.
“Magic and machines,” Isaiah commented. — Never a good
combination.
— Green light — warned Naomi, reading the message on her cell phone. —
It's yours, Quinlan.
Everyone looked at Bryce.
Alive and not alive. Dead and undead. Bryce reached out toward
the motionless metallic army below. An icy and terrifying power
passed through her body, but her will became their will. Her will was
everything.
Stand up, Bryce said, making the thought spread. Fight.
Obey Isaiah Tiberian and Naomi Boreas. Hell is your ally… You fight
alongside them.
Only she could see the shimmering souls of the Fallen, floating
towards the suits from the top of the nearby hill, lining up one by one.
The suits' eyes lit up again. Bryce saw the nearest mech-suit raise
its metal arm in front of its face. Observed the
thing moving his fingers, seeming to be amazed.

Then the thing turned on the nearest Asterian Guard and smashed his
head in.
“By the gods,” Naomi whispered as the mechsuits, one after another,
began to march away from the Asterian Guard.
The souls of the Fallen had waited for the moment when the Asterian
Guard and mech-suits began marching toward the city below.
And the remaining souls of the Fallen who didn't have a mech-suit to
enter... Well, there were several bodies of dead demons and Asterian
Guards intact enough to serve as hosts. With a convulsion here and there,
as if they were adjusting to their new limbs, the corpses stood upright. They
went to stand next to the Fallen brotherhood of host mec-suits.
“It's your turn,” Hunt said to Isaiah and Naomi. — Time to enter the city.
The angels agreed. And with a great thrust of their wings, they shot into
the sky.
Isaiah's voice spread: —
Fallen, now you are Risen! At the gates!
Isaiah looked back at Hunt, his eyes brimming with pride and
determination. The warrior touched his own chest at the level of his heart
and flew away. Hunt raised his arm in a wave and a farewell, as if he lacked
words.
It was indeed a sight beyond words… beyond description. An army of
undead, machines and demons, marched towards the city walls.
“Here they come,” Hunt said. — It seems the video has distracted them
so far.
"Just in time," said Aidas, as the shining figures approached the battlefield
that lay before the northern gates of the Eternal City, arriving themselves to
exterminate the threat.
The stars.
And walking towards them, with the armies parting for his passage, was
the Prince of the Ravine, with the Prince of the Moat soon after.
back.
Hunt stopped himself from sighing in relief, even though the helmet
would muffle the sound.
Bryce had freed the souls of the Fallen from the throne room and
placed them inside the bodies of the mech-suits, but the most difficult
and dangerous part of the plan began at that moment. Hunt struggled to
keep his breathing even and focus on the battle and chaos unfolding.
His helmet resonated with alerts and assessments.
Aidas unsheathed a gleaming silver blade that looked like
shine with a bluish light.
— My turn — said the demon prince, the dry breeze ruffling his light
blond hair. To Bryce, he asked, “A ride?”
Hunt had only a moment to see the concern, the fear, in her eyes,
and then the female took Aidas's hand, then Hunt's, and teleported them
away. With the power of Theia's starlight, it took less than a second. It
barely seemed to drain Bryce's energy, but what appeared around them
when they reappeared on the battlefield was a scene straight out of a
nightmare.
Kristallos demons, death hunters, dogs like the Shepherd, and even
worse… the pets of Thanatos, all running past the asteri towards the
city itself. Hunt's helmet
turned into distant figures, the world bathed in red and black.
But the Asteri had bigger problems: the three princes before
from them. Mainly Apollion, alongside his brothers.
There was no sign of Rigelus. He had sent the other five asteri
do the dirty work.
“You will pay for marching in our city,” Polaris shouted.
Hunt released the power, the intensity of the lightning making itself
felt even behind the visor of his helmet. Beside him, Bryce had already
removed the Mask. And behind the two, around them, the Fallen (his
Fallen, now in bodies made of metal and nightmares, all still bound
by the order to follow Isaiah and Naomi) charged at the Asterian
Guard, surrounding it.
Miniature sulfur missiles were launched from the weapons on the
mec-suits' shoulders towards the Asterian Guard. Only ashes and
floating feathers remained.
It was Hunt's idea to use the arrogance of Rigelus, who thought
they were careless and stupid... that they would be so foolish as to
believe that they would somehow be able to lead an army out of Nena
and mount a surprise attack on the Eternal City. That they would be
so foolish as to leave Hell free and vulnerable.
So they had let the Asteri split the Asterian Guard in two, sending
half to Nena to take over Hell... only to be slaughtered by a waiting
horde of demons under the command of one of Apollion's captains.
And, with half of the Guard that was there, the elite angels, the
most trained…
They wouldn't stand a chance either.
The three Princes of Hell stood before five asteri on the dry
vegetation outside the city walls, war exploding around them.
It was Polaris who looked at Bryce.

“You will die for your impertinence,” Polaris shot at Bryce, then
unleashed a blinding blast of raw power.
on top of her. Apollion led the way, with his hand raised. A pure, devouring
darkness destroyed the light of Polaris.
And a satisfaction that Hunt had never felt came over him when he saw
the way the asteri stopped in place. How they took a step back.
Apollion tilted his golden head toward the asteri.

— It's been forever.
"Don't let him get any closer," Polaris hissed at the others, and,
As one, the Asteri attacked.
The ground exploded, light colliding with darkness, which collided with
light…
Hunt turned to Bryce, a shield of pure lightning
snapping between the two and the fight.
— We have to get out of here... — His voice was partially muffled by the
helmet.
“No,” Bryce replied, focusing on the asteri.
— That's not the plan — Hunt replied, grunting, and made to hold her
elbow, intending to take flight and take them off the battlefield if she didn't
teleport them.
They needed to destroy the core of primalux. Otherwise, everything
would have been in vain. That way, the asteri could run back to the palace,
regenerate their powers, their own bodies.
“Bryce,” Hunt warned.
However, Bryce drew Aster and Truth-Revealer, with starlight and
darkness flowing from the black blades. But it didn't unite them.
At least there was still time to stick to the plan…
Polaris burst into combat, her eyes burning with light.
white and fixed on Bryce.
— You should have run away when you had the chance — cried the Star
From north.
The air around him seemed to pulse with the power of those blades,
coming from Bryce. As if they knew that the time had finally come to unite.
No running away then. It was time to adapt to the game.

Hunt mobilized his own power, rising to reach his partner.
Polaris lunged at them, and Hunt struck: a blast of pure lightning at

the asteri's feet, deforming even the stone there, opening a hole into
which she would fall...
Bryce teleported slowly, and Hunt knew she was already getting
tired, despite the extra power of the starlight. Until she reappeared there,
before Polaris as the asteri fell to the ground, and only Hunt's lightning
shield stopped the blast of power from frying Bryce along with it as she
raised her sword and dagger above her head.
Polaris's eyes widened as Bryce plunged the blades into her chest.
The blades pierced skin and bone, and the starlight in Bryce's chest
expanded until it reached them.
Light clashed against the blades, and both sword and knife glowed
brightly, as if they were incandescent. The light spread, rising through
Bryce's hands, arms, and body, transforming the incandescence...
In a star. A sun.
Polaris screamed, her mouth wide open.
Hunt already knew that slowing down of the world when a great
power died; I had seen it when Micah, Shahar, Sandriel died, but this
time it was much worse.
With his helmet on, Hunt could see everything: the particles of earth
fluttering, the drops of Polaris's blood rising like red rain as Bryce drove
the blades deeper and deeper...
The demon princes turned to watch the scene, the asteri adversaries
among them.
The princes' humanoid skins were gone. In their place were creatures
of darkness and decay, each with a mouth full of sharp teeth and leathery
wings spread wide. There was a large black mass inside Apollion's
gaping mouth as he charged at Octartis...
The male asteri erected a wall of light.

The sulfur missiles on the shoulders and arms of the hybrid mechsuits
lit up again, ember by ember by ember, and Hunt saw with perfect clarity
the spiraling missiles being launched into the world, towards the panicked
Asterian Guard.
A deathhunter ran past, each galloping step lasting an age, a lifetime, an

eternity, seeming to balance on the other foot as he moved.
And Bryce was still there, falling with Polaris, the two black blades meeting
in the asteri's chest, Theia's light uniting them in power and purpose...
Debris flew toward Bryce, toward Polaris. As if whatever was happening

at that intersection of blades was drawing the world in further and further.
To the portal to nowhere.

A primal shiver ran down Hunt's spine. Theia had been right; Aidas had
been right. That portal to nowhere, somehow opening inside Polaris, was
dangerous not only for the asteri but for anyone nearby.
He needed to stop this. I needed to close the portal quickly. Of

Otherwise, he knew, instinctively, that they would all succumb.
Time ran slowly as Polaris writhed in pain. Bryce's hair was sucked
toward the asteri, toward the blades and whatever they were opening…
Very slowly. Whatever Theia's starlight was summoning, the portal

opened very slowly, and with every second it opened wider, it threatened to
swallow Bryce as well.
He had been forged by Hell to help her. To end it. Hellfire and firestar: a
potent combination, Bryce had said in Inferno.
It was pure instinct, and pure desperation too. Hunt released the lightning,
directing it towards the point where the blades met.
It flowed like a crackling ribbon through the world, passing the death hunters,
the Princes of Hell, the mech-suits...
Hunt watched it collide with sword and dagger at the exact point where
they intersected, where Theia's light still shone between the two, binding
them in an ungodly union. And there where his Hellfire touched the fiery star,
where the lightning touched the blades, there was a bloom of blinding light.
Polaris' face contorted in suffering. And yet the

The world kept slowing down, slowing down…
Hunt's Hellfire tendrils curled around the blade, into Polaris itself.
Lightning danced across Bryce's teeth, across his shocked eyes.
He expected an external explosion, he expected to see every little piece

of the asteri's bone and brain break apart, fragment by fragment.
Instead, Polaris imploded. The chest was pulled in, sucked into
the blades as if there were a powerful vacuum cleaner there. Then the
belly and shoulders did the same, and Polaris screamed, louder…
Until he saw it, just a flash, so quick that, in real time, he would
never have witnessed it: a tiny dark dot that the two blades had made,
exactly where they touched.
The thing Polaris had been sucked into. A black dot.
It appeared and disappeared as Bryce staggered forward, and the
blades separated, and time returned to normal, so quickly that Hunt
lost his breath. He touched a button on the side of his helmet, lifting
the visor for a breath of fresh air.
One of the asteri roared, and the world itself shook, as did the city
walls.
But Bryce observed the place where Polaris had been. The blades
he held in his hands, still enveloped by his Hellfire and her starlight.
A portal to nowhere. To a black hole.

No wonder it had begun to suck in Bryce too, and the rest of the
world. It was no wonder Theia had hesitated, if that was what she
thought would happen with the joining of the blades.
Hunt's body vibrated with power as Bryce lifted his head to meet
his gaze. There was absolute wild delight in her eyes. She had also
seen it… She knew she had sent Polaris straight into the nothingness
of a black hole.
And… At that moment, a seed of worry appeared.
As if he was assimilating how dangerous it would be to open another one, let
alone five more. Everything they would risk each time.
Still, they looked at each other, just for a moment.
They had killed a fucking asteri.
Hunt's power vibrated again in him, in his very bones...

No. It wasn't the power that vibrated through him. It was the cell phone. You
Internal speakers in the helmet answered Ruhn's call.
— Danaan.
— You need to come to the primalux core — Ruhn informed.
— We… we need help.
The call has been terminated.
“Bryce…” Hunt began, but when he turned to her, he saw that pure
light in her eyes again.
He had seen that expression on his partner's face only once in his life...
the day she killed Micah. When she had looked into the cameras and
shown the world what was hiding beneath her freckles and smile: the apex
predator. The wounded heart of anger.
Whatever it took to end it… she would do it. The blood pulsed through
him, waking up to that look, to what she had done…
“Go,” shouted the thing Aidas had transformed into, identifiable only by
its burning blue eyes as it faced Octartis alongside Apollion.
The princes had the appearance of nameless terror, but Hunt now
knew their true nature. They had gone to help.
And for a brief moment, he felt the pride of being a son of Hell run through
his veins.
Hunt looked at Bryce again, closing his helmet visor again.
— We have to go to the room where the primalux nucleus is located —

he stated, but she was already extending her arm towards him.
Holding his hand, primal fury burning in her face, the
Aster and the Revealer of Truth sheathed again.
A blink of an eye, and they were gone.
Her energy was running out quickly. They appeared in the hallway
three levels up, if the number on the nearby staircase entrance was any
indication.
There was blood running from her nose, and Hunt would have spent
time worrying about it if he hadn't heard the growls around him. If the
helmet hadn't echoed with warnings.
They had teleported to a corridor full of hunting

deaths.
Thanatos had sent the pets into the palace, to distract and keep
busy any asteri who might have stayed away from the battlefield, but
his control over them must have been weak, or he simply didn't care.
Facing just one of them had guaranteed Hunt a scar on his back. It
was true that he had been trapped in the halo, but even with full power,
facing all of those would not be easy. Beside him, Bryce was panting. I
needed a moment to breathe. After the fight with Polaris, after managing
to avoid being sucked into the black hole she opened, after teleporting…
her partner needed rest.
Hunt watched the growling pack. The idea of wasting power by

killing an ally's creature irritated him.
But, in the end, he didn't even need to decide... A waterspout came
splashing down the corridor.
Roaring right towards him and Bryce.
There was no way to escape. There was no window, no exit, no way

to breathe as water flooded the hallway to the ceiling.
Hunt held onto Bryce, his lightning useless in the water, and
swam toward what he assumed was the ladder amid the all-
encompassing darkness. His helmet was taken over by water, which
distorted his vision…
There was a glow. He hadn't imagined that Bryce still possessed
so much power… but no. It wasn't Bryce. Tharion swam after them
down the corridor. Ketos had never wielded enough power to control
such a quantity of water, nor with such force, and yet, there he was,
evidently the master of that flood.
An air bubble formed around Hunt and Bryce. He

he ripped off his helmet, letting the water fall down the front of his body.
- What the hell is that? said Hunt, choking up.
But Bryce understood first and shouted to Tharion through the air
bubble that saved their lives: —
Don't drown them all! We need them in the fight!
“I had a bag of antidotes,” shouted Tharion, his powerful tiger-
striped tail flailing, “but the force of the water tore the handle. It's here
somewhere, just wait until I...
— There's no time! — Bryce shouted back. — Find the bag, then find
us!
Bryce was right: taking too long to enter that room, to destroy the source
of the asteri's power... it was a risk that wasn't worth taking, even for the
antidote.
The water roared forward, heading for the staircase.
- They go! — encouraged Tharion as the water disappeared from the
corridor, the merman and the demons being carried away by the current. — I'll
be right behind you!
Hunt and Bryce fell hard to the stone floor, soaking wet and coughing
up water, but they didn't wait.
“Hurry,” Bryce said, grabbing his arm to pull him away.
to stand. — The primalux core is down here.
The only thing Hunt could do was shake his head.
wipe the water from his eyes, grab his helmet and run after her.
***
Ruhn had messed up. Lots of shit.

It was all he could think about as he stood there, in front of Pollux, with
his hands raised, in front of the door to the hall under which the core of
primalux operated.
There was no sign of Actaeon or Brann.
— Where’s Lidia? asked Pollux mockingly, pointing a gun at Ruhn's
head, his white wings glowing with power.
Ruhn had left her bleeding and injured on the stairs, completely
vulnerable, hating him…
- Where are the boys? —he replied, grunting.
“They're somewhere else,” Pollux replied, and Ruhn's stomach turned
at the implications of that. — Rigelus guessed you would go after the
mystics, so he instructed them to incite you to lie. And you believed easily,
easily because you are a naive idiot. The Hammer stepped forward and
nodded at Ruhn.
— Come on. I know Lidia is somewhere around here.
Ruhn had little choice but to comply. Letting the Hammer lead him
away from the primalux core, the archives, and
then back to the hallway where Lidia would be bleeding on the stairs.
Pollux caught his breath as he smelled her blood in the hallway.
“Lidia,” he called in a singsong voice.

Her scent became almost suffocating as they turned the corner.
where Ruhn had left her…
There was not even a trace of her.
***
Tharion helped Lidia limp forward, a strip of living water wrapped around
the hole in her thigh. When looking for the antidotes, he had found both
the bag and the Doe on the stairs, just before they heard the Hammer's
growls.
Only two intact vials remained. The others had burst, thanks either
to the impact or volatility of Athalar's lightning. But Lidia had been
shot… from Ruhn, according to her.
Tharion didn't know whether to admire or curse Danaan for that. The
idiot had done it to prevent her from getting hurt, to face Pollux alone.
For starters, Tharion hadn't even needed to ask why she and Ruhn
were down there. Why they had risked everything to be here, why they
had separated themselves from Bryce and Hunt.
Pollux had bragged about Lidia's children to Ruhn, as the mystics
were ordered to lie about the teens' whereabouts, luring her into a trap.
But that meant that her children were still trapped elsewhere in the
palace... and Pollux knew how to find them.
— Lidia… — Hammer joked. — Lidia… — He was almost

singing her name.
Lidia gritted her teeth. With an impulse to get up, she made to go to
the corridor, towards the Hammer, but Tharion held her back, making
her lower herself down beside him again.
“We need to regroup,” Tharion said, hissing.
— I need to get my children — she hissed back, trying to move
again.
They spoke so quietly that the words were nothing more than whispers.
Tharion held her still.
— You are in no condition…
She tried again, and Tharion thought screw it. He commanded the strip of
water around the female's thigh to tighten, sending a tendril into the hole in
the skin for emphasis.
Lidia put her hand over her mouth, swallowing a scream.
Tharion removed the tendril, hating himself for causing her pain, but
maintained the magic to prevent traces of the Doe's blood from marking his
trail. Her eyes widened, surprise replacing pain as the water softened at his
command. A simple, normal bit of magic, but he knew his own eyes were
alight with power… with the raging rapids of Istros itself.
— Hypaxia managed to develop an antidote for the parasite.

This temporarily gives us back the magic that the Descent stole from us...
even more than that, in fact — he explained, his voice low and light.
Tharion could have sworn something akin to pride flashed in her eyes.
— I knew she would find a way — Lidia murmured.

- Here. — He used a plume of water to remove the antidote case from the
leather pouch, then took out one of the two remaining precious vials. — Here.
You'll black out for a second, but...
But to face the monster in the hallway, she would need to be completely
healed. I would need the wound to go away. Lidia didn't hesitate as she took
the bottle, removed the cork and drank.
She staggered, and her eyes glowed gold. He held her
when the female went out, counting her breaths: one, two...
The bullet wound in Lidia's thigh healed immediately, then she opened her
eyes, which were a fiery gold. He looked at his hands, flexing his fingers.
— I knew she would find a way — Lidia repeated, more to herself.

same as for him.
Gently, Tharion released her and gestured for her to remain silent as the
footsteps grew louder, much closer than before.
“We have to be smart and stay calm,” he warned.

Tharion, and helped her to her feet.
She stood up without even grimacing or wincing, every step of the way.
traces of pain were gone. Then the female nodded.
With silent steps and Tharion's magic causing small particles of mist to
evaporate the trail of her scent, they descended the stairs.
“Lidia,” Pollux called again.

Looking at each other, the two stopped at the base of the stairs. Tharion
peered down the long corridor that stretched behind the curve of the wall,
seeing Pollux pointing a gun at Danaan in front of him.
“Lidia,” Pollux hummed again. — I found yours

mate, then you shouldn't be far away...
Tharion backed away. Lidia trembled with fury and power. Tharion felt the
power shuddering around him, rising like a giant emerging from the depths.
What had the antidote awakened in her? What had been stolen during the
Descent? And what had been lying dormant all that time? His water seemed to
waver at that... as if it knew something he didn't.
“You're here,” Pollux continued. — I can feel your soul

close by. It's intertwined with mine, remember?
Lidia bared her teeth, her power growing like a physical presence. Tharion
gestured with his hand, indicating that she should step back. Until he had a
clear shot at the Hammer, they couldn't reveal his position...
“Well then,” said Pollux, then whistled and a door further down the corridor
creaked open.
There was the sound of footsteps approaching them, and Pollux.
Tharion dared to risk peeking behind the wall again. Two angels dressed
in imperial armor had appeared there, and between them…
Two teenagers, both tied and gagged.

Lidia didn't need to look. She inhaled, smelling whatever was coming…
Then his eyes widened when he recognized the smell of his children.
Pure, murderous fury filled her gaze, and Tharion was suddenly very, very
happy that Lidia was on their side.
He didn't even dare think about stopping Lidia when she emerged from where she was.
they were hiding, he turned around and ordered, with power resonating in his voice:
— Release them.
***
Bryce had enough strength to reach a room on the floor above the archives.
From there, she and Hunt walked down, leaving a trail of water, as quickly
and silently as possible. She could have forced herself to teleport them to
the corridor with the primalux core, but she needed to save herself. There
was only one asteri
died…
She had killed Polaris.
That fact kept bouncing around in his head. The sensation of the act, of
Polaris' blood bathing Bryce, that primal satisfaction and outrage at seeing
the outrage of the other asteri when Bryce impaled their sister with sword
and dagger, ignited by Hunt's Hellfire.
And then Polaris had been sucked into nothingness.

Into nowhere. The blades, powered by his starlight and accelerated by
Hunt's Hellfire, had opened a portal to a place that was not a place.
An asteri had been banished from Midgard. But would Bryce be lucky
enough to get close to the others? Now that they knew what she could do,
what she wielded, they would avoid her, just as they had avoided Apollion.
Thoughts raced through Bryce's mind, dread flooding her as they ran
through the palace.
There was no point in staying hidden. Everyone knew they were there.
With a nod to Hunt, his partner
opened the doors to the archives wide open.

The glass shattered, scattering everywhere, and a shield of Hunt's lightning
kept them both from harm as they ran through the shards, Bryce leading them to
the door that led to the hall where the power of Midgard was held. …
The brightness of the room spilled onto the stairs, indicating the way down.
There was no sign of Lidia's children. In fact, the room was as it had been
before. A crystal floor. The seven pipes, each with the name of an asteri on a
plaque engraved below, and, next to the plaques, small screens showed the
respective power levels.
Those on Sirius and Polaris were now unlit, but the others were almost full.
One of them, the seventh, was at maximum power. And in front of the pipe
was himself, smiling at them.
Rigelus.
Rigelus released a torrent of white-hot power, and Bryce had enough

sense to create one of his own, matching the lightning Hunt shot
between them and the asteri.
The entire palace shook from the impact.
And as everything disappeared, Bryce pulled the Aster and the Revealer out of his hand.
True.
“It didn't end well for Polaris,” she told the Radiant Hand, making the
fiery star ripple across the blades. — It won't end well for you.
“Polaris was weak,” Rigelus countered. — And a fool to let you get
close with those blades.
Without warning, he threw the power at them again.
Bryce held Hunt that time and teleported them to the other side of
the room.
Rigelus' power hit the stairs behind them, and the two dodged. A
true blow from the Radiant Hand could bring down the entire palace, but
that blow would still have been able to roast their skin to the bone.
“We have to get to the core beneath the crystal,” Bryce said, and
Rigelus attacked again.
“Kill him first,” Hunt replied, grunting, waving

with her head to the blades in her hands.
“He won't let us get close enough.
She mustered the strength to teleport them to the core, and Hunt erupted with
lightning again as they reappeared, right at Rigelus...
The power collided with a light barrier and spread out.

"Your lightning," Bryce said quickly, "deformed the stone as it struck Polaris." Do
you think you can deform crystal too?
They were about thirty feet above the glowing core. For
to cross that block of crystal, they would need precious, uninterrupted minutes. Bryce
had thought the fire star could slowly pierce him, but time was a luxury they didn't
have.
“I need a good shot at the floor… a few, probably,” Hunt said as Rigelus attacked
again.
Again, Bryce teleported them. — Can you buy me time?
The female's mouth had gone dry, and her nose was bleeding once
more, but she nodded.
—What are they whispering there? — asked Rigelus, calmly, from where he was
in front of the pipes, but Bryce teleported them again.
The two appeared right in front of Rigelus, and, from the shock on the asteri's
face, he wasn't expecting that. No, he had thought her power had been exhausted.
The distraction was costly.

Hunt's Hellfire crashed into the crystal floor.
Bryce didn't wait to see what would happen, what Rigelus' reaction would be, before
teleporting them back to the center of the room, and Hunt's Hellfire grew as it collided
with the stone, which had actually deformed, and at the moment fragmented under
the heat
monstrous.
The crystal was falling apart, melting.
And below, a tunnel to the primalux core began to form.
***
The Eternal City became a chaos of sulfur missiles, mech-suits, demons, the
Asterian Guard and every nightmare imaginable.
But Ithan hurried through the streets towards the crystal palace,
at the white light flaring inside like a huge strobe.
It had to be Bryce. But the palace was gigantic, as big as the Comitium,
and finding her inside…
No one had answered when he called. With the battle, he hadn't thought
they would respond, but he kept trying while aboard the boat he had hastily
hired, until he got there, and then running from the shore, without rest, food or
water.
A sulfur missile whizzed overhead, sparkling with light.
Golden. It hit a building nearby, and the world exploded.
Even Ithan, with his speed and agility, was thrown.
His body slammed against the building, and the God Slaying Rifle swung onto
his shoulder. Something broke behind him, not a bone, but…
Ithan slid across the floor among the screaming people, looking for his
backpack. Frantically, he grabbed the container with the vials of antidote for
Bryce and Hunt.
The liquid flowed. Only the shards of glass remained.
Tharion had more, but only Luna knew where the merman was in the
middle of that mess. The rifle, at least, was still intact... with scratches on the
barrel, but nothing that would affect the usefulness of the object.
He got up with difficulty, but a strong hand held him back,
helping him to stand.
Ithan turned around, showing his teeth, then came face to face with a
human, her eyes burning with determination. Behind her, helping the wounded
or running toward the battle, were more humans. Some in work clothes, some
unarmed, but all heading towards the conflict. For this first and possibly last
chance to go against the Asteri.
And he knew. Bryce's message hadn't just been a distraction for the asteri.
It had been a war cry. For the people who had suffered most at the hands of
the Asteri.
Then Ithan quickly headed back to the palace.

Passing by all those humans, who helped each other and fought with courage...
despite the adversities, despite how much it could cost them. There were no
more antidotes for his friends, but he still had the rifle and the bullet.

***
Lidia didn't bother to look for ammunition, she just sheathed her weapon and
drew her sword.
He knew how difficult an opponent Pollux was, but he had been studying
him for years, he had learned his movements, his arrogance, his tricks.
She hadn't let him find out what hers were.

Then Lidia glanced sideways at Ruhn and said: — Get out of
here. This is between him and me.
I didn't want anything to do with Ruhn anymore. He had shot her… shot
her, in a kind of masculine outburst of domination, and that had prevented her
from going after her children. She would never forgive him...
— No fucking way.
Ruhn watched the two guards flank her children. As if he could take them
down, as if Pollux's gun wasn't pointed right at the back of his head.
For Ruhn it would be a bullet, but Pollux wouldn't blow up Lidia with a gun,
nor with his own power. He would want to make her bleed, hurt her very slowly
and deeply, make her beg for mercy.
The palace shook.

“Lidia,” said Pollux, with hideous satisfaction. — You look good for someone
who's been diving headlong into the scum lately.
“Fuck you,” Ruhn shouted.

Behind Pollux, still a good distance away in the hallway, her children waited
with their heads held high, even if they were shaking. The image of them short-
circuited Lidia's brain.
But Pollux mocked Ruhn:

— Was it because of you that she left, then? And betrayed everything he
knew? For a little fairy prince?
—Don’t give him that much credit — Lidia countered. She would say
anything to keep Pollux's attention on her... away from the boys. For her, Ruhn
could go to Hell. Even so, Lidia gestured between her and Pollux. — This
reckoning has been coming for a long time.
“Ah, I know,” Pollux replied, gesturing to the two angels behind him. —
You see, the Queen of the Ocean's fleet isn't that big. Just catch a merman or
fish, a mermaid spy and threaten to insure it. from them a small filet of
and the person opens his mouth, including about where the Freighter of the
Deep is going, and about the two very interesting children on board... their
true lineage finally revealed and changing the feeling of the ship.
Lidia considered all the scenarios in which she could defeat

Pollux and get the children out of there. Few ended with her coming out alive.
—They resisted admirably, you see? But they couldn't keep their mouths
shut, could they? — He gave Actaeon a stern look.
There was a bruise on the boy's temple. — He learned very quickly how
effective a gag is.
A flame lit inside her, crackling and scalding.
— After all the trouble these brats gave me —
added Pollux, his white wings sparkling with raw power, it will be a —,
pleasure to kill them in front of you.
Ruhn stood still as two Imperial guards pushed Brann and Actaeon,
bound in Gorsian shackles, until they were both on their knees before
Pollux.
The Hammer smiled at Lidia, who had froze and turned pale.
— I knew right away that they weren't my blood, of course.

My son would not be captured so easily. Pathetic — he sneered at
Brann, who had a bloody nose.
The boy would face the Hammer with his own hands.
Actaeon, however, watched Pollux carefully, although he was also
in a bad state. The golden eyes didn't miss anything. They analyzed
everything. Looking for a loophole.
— Please — Lidia asked, in a hoarse voice.
Pollux laughed.
— The time for kindness is behind us, Lidia.

Ruhn's mind was racing, scrutinizing every angle and
advantage they could have. The odds were devastating.
Even if Pollux lowered the gun he was pointing at Ruhn's head,
he was still close enough to kill the boys with a single blow. There
was also no way Lidia or Ruhn
reach the children in time, neither physically nor magically. A bullet would
be slower than the Hammer's swing.
And even if Tharion was by Lidia's side... No, there was no chance.
“Go get Rigelus,” Pollux said to the two guards, without taking
Lidia and Ruhn's eyes. — I think he'll like to see this.
Without questioning or even blinking at the atrocities they left behind,
the guards continued down the corridor, turned towards the staircase and
disappeared from sight.
Tharion attacked.
A blast of water, so concentrated it could have broken stone, headed
towards Pollux. Ruhn dodged to the left as Pollux fired. But it didn't go
towards him, the male realized as the bullet fired, faster than it should have,
carried by a wave of angelic power...
Pollux threw himself to the side, and the plume of water missed his wing.
The bullet and his power, however, hit the target.
Tharion grunted, falling before Ruhn saw which part of his body the
merman had been hit. In the chest…
As the water ran down the surrounding walls and ceiling, Lidia asked:
— Let
them go, Pollux. Your beef is with me.
He sneered.
—And what better way to destroy you? I suppose I can make a
concession: you can choose which boy dies first.
Brann growled against the gag at Pollux, but Actaeon looked at his
mother, his eyes stern, as if to say, “Kill this bastard.”
— They are children — said Lidia, her voice breaking.

Ruhn couldn't bear it... the pure desperation in her voice. The anguish.
— They are your children — replied Pollux, power sparkling in his hand.
— In a normal situation, I would like to make this last a while longer, but the
battle requires sacrifices. — As if in response, the building itself shook. — I
heard there are some
death hunters on the loose around here. Maybe the brats will have a good snack.
— Don't do this — Lidia asked, falling to her knees. — Tell me what

what you want, what I need to do, and I will do… anything…
Ruhn's heart broke in two. For the boys, for her, putting herself down because
of that piece of shit.
The male mobilized his own shadows, but if Tharion hadn't managed to hit
the target...
Pollux gave Lidia a small smile.
— I always liked seeing you on your knees, you know?
- Whatever you want. Please, Pollux. I'm begging... — Lidia pleaded.
And she would. He would give Pollux whatever he wanted.

The boys' bodies went rigid upon witnessing the scene. Maybe finally
understanding what… who… their mother was. What had motivated her all those
years, and would continue to guide her in her final moments.
Ruhn only saw Lidia. Lidia, who had donated so much, too much. What would you do
that without thinking twice.
Then he took a step forward.
— Let's make an exchange. Me, for them.
Any other adversary would have disregarded the proposal, but Pollux
analyzed it from top to bottom with a kind of cruel, hungry curiosity.
Ruhn grunted, saying the words he had not dared to utter until then:
— She's my partner, you scumbag.

Lidia inhaled sharply.
Ruhn continued provoking the Hammer:
— Do you want to know what she used to compare you and me?
They were rude and vulgar words… but words that the male knew would
affect the Hammer's fragile ego.
And they affected.
"I'm going to kill you all," Pollux shot angrily, with the handsome
face contorting in fury.
“Nothing,” replied Ruhn. —To touch her or the boys, you'll have to divide
your attention, and if you do that, it'll give me the opening I need to send you
straight to Hell.
He should have seized the moment when Tharion attacked.
He had wasted the merman's blow... and now Tharion was lying on the
ground, alarmingly still, with blood dripping from a hole in his chest.
— Ruhn — warned Lidia.

— But — Ruhn continued softly — if you hand over the boys unharmed,
if you let both them and Lidia and Tharion go, I'll go with you. No weapon, no
magic. You can take me apart, piece by piece, taking as long as you want.
—Ruhn. — Lidia's voice broke again.

He didn't look at her. I didn't have the strength to see what was in the
female's eyes. He knew she hated him for shooting her in the thigh… but his
intention had been to save her. Avoid that terrible fate they ended up having
anyway.
Then he said to her, mentally: I love you. I fell in love with you from the
bottom of my soul, and it is my soul that will find yours again in another life.
He ended the connection before she could respond.

Then Ruhn turned to the white-winged angel, raising his hands.
— I'm all yours, Hammer.

Unarmed, Ruhn kept his gaze on Malleus.

— So, what's it going to be, Pollux?
Lidia's children watched him carefully. Lidia remained
silently, but the Hammer looked straight at her.
"I don't see why I can't have everything I want," the angel said, then
smiled at Ruhn. —Wait your turn, little prince.
It happened very quickly.

Pollux turned to the boys, fixing his gaze on Brann. Pure, raw power
ignited around the angel.
Lidia screamed as Pollux threw a lethal spear of power towards Brann.
Ruhn couldn't look away. I didn't want to watch, and yet I knew I needed
to witness that crime, that unforgivable atrocity...
But Lidia ran, as agile as the wind. More agile than a bullet.
Ruhn didn't understand what he saw next: how Lidia got to Brann in time,
how she threw herself on top of her son, taking him to the ground as he burst
into white-hot flames.
Flames erupted from it like sulfur missiles, knocking Pollux down. It wasn't
an accident or a bomb, but
fire magic, gushing from her, scalding hot from inside Lidia.
— Brann — she said, gasping for her son, while the flames didn't even
touch him, and analyzed his shocked face as he ripped the gag out of the
boy's mouth. — Brannon.
She swallowed a sob as she uttered the boy's full name, but then
Actaeon appeared and pulled his brother away as quickly as he could, both
still limited by the handcuffs that held them.
- What are you? — Ace whispered.

Still panting, burning from the fire, Lidia responded, standing up.
with:
— An ancient lineage.
It was Daybright, as Ruhn had seen her in his mind. She had been
showing herself, had been showing her true self to him all this time.
“Get them out of here,” Lidia said to Ruhn, her hair flying like a golden
halo, the embers swirling around her head. — Take the merman to a healer.
It was a miracle that Tharion wasn't dead, considering the hole that ran
through him.
Pollux stood up.
“You bitch,” he snapped. — What the fuck?
“Shapeshifters, like they used to be,” Lidia explained, fire rippling out of
her mouth. — As Danika Fendyr told me we were. Now free from the asteri
parasite.
Ruhn gaped. Had she gotten rid of the parasite? Should have
managed to get the antidote, somehow… from Tharion?
Lidia looked magnificent, enveloped in flame and burning with fury.
Pollux's power broke out again.
— I'll kill you anyway, you slut.
— Feel free to try — Lidia replied, smiling.
Pollux rushed at her, striking her with magic. O
corridor shook, debris collapsing…
A wall of blue fire leaped between the two. Pollux crashed into the
barrier, so he got stuck. A fly in a flaming web.
Lidia went close to the angel while Pollux fought against the flames.
“You signed your death warrant when you touched my children,” she
announced, and then exhaled.
The flame rippled from her mouth into Pollux's skin. O
angel screamed… or tried to scream.
Freed from any secrets, or the need to keep them, Lidia seemed to
release everything that she was. Ruhn just watched as the fire went down
Pollux's throat, into his body, roasting him from the inside out until he was
nothing but smoldering ash, a column of inert sulfur, his mouth still open.
She had incinerated him.

Lidia raised her finger and poked the imposing column that had once
been Pollux.
The ash statue of Pollux crumbled to the ground.
Lidia's children stood up, shock on their battered faces. The knife in
Ruhn's boot helped him loosen the Gorsian shackles that bound them, but it
was Actaeon who whispered to Lidia:
- Mother?
She looked over her shoulder at her son. The corner of her mouth turned
up… from what he'd called her, Ruhn guessed.
The palace shook again… whatever was happening outside, it was bad.
— Take the merman to Declan to be cured. Even after the antidote, I

don't think Ketos's own body will be able to save him — ordered Lidia. —
And there's only one more vial of the antidote in his bag.
My sister found a solution. But don't shake it... it's unstable.
“Lidia,” Ruhn said, but her eyes burned with pure fire.
— I need to help others. — She ran to the stairs. — Get my children to

safety, and we can call ourselves even. Save them, and I forgive you for
shooting me.
She looked back at her children, then disappeared through the palace. At
direction of the war-torn world that awaited them beyond.
***
Lidia had known, since she was a child, that she was made of pure power,
and had kept that power hidden in her own veins.
Not a witch's power. She knew her flames were… different. His father
didn't have them either.
She had kept them secret, even from the Asteri. Mainly the asteri. As far
as she knew, no other shapeshifter had them, and she understood what
revealing them would mean: becoming an experiment to be dissected by the
asteri.
Then he had bumped into Danika Fendyr, who had somehow discovered
things about Lidia's paternal lineage, and wanted to know if Lidia had any
strange gifts. Fae type, elemental gifts.
She had considered killing Danika outright to keep the gift a secret. And
what else did Danika know… Could she know about her children?
Shapeshifters were fey from another world, Danika had explained.

Blessed with a fey and a humanoid form, endowed with elemental powers.
That confirmed what Lidia had suspected for a long time. Why she had
named Brannon after the oldest legends in her family lineage: of an
otherworldly fae king, with fire in his veins, who created deer with the power
of flame to be his sacred guards.
Lidia hadn't mentioned any of that while Danika told her how they had
become shapeshifters and that the asteri had experimented on them in
Midgard, which had ended up eliminating their pointy ears. He had been
happy when Danika died, taking all his questions with him.
No more.
After ingesting the antidote that her brilliant and courageous sister had
created, the fire rose so close to her skin that she could no longer control it.
deny it. I didn't want to deny it anymore.

Lidia felt the flame go through her as she left the palace, passed through
the city and headed towards the battlefield beyond. Unrestricted, indomitable.
The feral wolves were the first to pick up her scent, no doubt thanks to
Mordoc's keen hound senses.
They identified her before she reached the gates to the city. They recognized
her, even with the fire, and ran towards her in humanoid form, teeth bared.
Mordoc led the pack, hatred practically radiating from him. Behind, as
always, came Gedred and Vespasian, with sniper rifles aimed.
It was time for Lidia to clean up.

— You… — began Mordoc, angrily.
But she didn't even give him the chance to finish. It was enough for that
male, Danika Fendyr's father, to spread his perversity around the world. It
was enough of him causing suffering to Midgard.
Lidia turned Mordoc and the two snipers into ashes with just her
thought. Until all that was left of them was just the melted silver from the
darts in their collars, pooling on the ground.
Another thought, and the pack of feral wolves, who had stopped in place in
panic, met the same end.
Asterian Guardian Angels shot from the heavens in a burst of power.
Lidia obliterated them too.

The demons stopped, the long-dead Fallen allies beside them, the
mechsuits ceasing to move.
The war machines of the Asterian Guard changed direction and rumbled
toward her, each colossal tank armed with sulfur missiles. The angels
controlling them aimed their rifles at Lidia and fired a volley of bullets.
But the fire was like a song in Lidia's blood, and she crossed the
battlefield on foot. The bullets melted before reaching her.
It was more natural than it had ever been. In the Cave of the Princes, it
had taken almost all of her concentration to extinguish the Autumn King's
flames around her companions. Just Morven
he had seemed surprised... the others hadn't even questioned how the
flames had disappeared. The chaos had been too widespread for anyone
to put the pieces together.
At that moment, Lidia's fire flowed freely. Her truth was free.
The war machines stopped, aimed their weapons and bombs.

They wanted to exterminate her on Midgard.
But she would continue until the end. She didn't look back at the palace,
where she could only hope that Ruhn, her partner, was ensuring the safety
of her children.
For the first time in her entire unhappy existence, she allowed the world
to see her as she was. He was allowing himself to see himself as all that he
was.
The missile launchers turned white-hot.
Lidia mobilized her own flames. Even if he intercepted the missiles while
they were still in the air, the shrapnel could kill his allies...
There was only one way to stop it: getting there first, before the missiles
were launched, and ending everyone at once, including herself.
Lidia started running.

He wished he had been able to say goodbye to his children, to Ruhn, to have
responded to what he had said.
I love you.
She left the thought behind, of the fae prince she knew would keep her
children safe.
The war machines followed her movements with their launchers. They
would try to send her straight to Hell before she reached them. Emphasis
on would try.
It had been a short life, by Vanir standards, and a bad one, but there
had been moments of joy. Moments she remembered and cherished:
holding her newborn children, smelling their baby smell. Talking to Ruhn for
hours when she only knew him as Night. Lay down in his arms.
So few happy memories, but she wouldn't have traded them for anything.
I would have done it all again, just for those memories.

Lidia dove deep, into the seething residues of her own power.
The war machines loomed, black and flaming. Ready for combat. The
launch cylinders stared down at her, sulfur missiles glowing gold in their
throats.
Lidia released her own fire, ready for the final incineration.
But before its flame touched those war machines, before the sulfur
missiles could be fired, the launch cylinders melted. The iron flowed out,
scalding the dry earth.
And those sulfur missiles, trapped in the machinery that
melted...
Explosions shook the world as missiles exploded, turning war
machines into death traps for the soldiers inside. They melted into nothing.
The heat scorched Lidia’s face, and amidst the burning and billowing
smoke…
Three tiny white lights glowed brightly.

Fire elves. Glowing with power.
Through the fire, the smoke and the embers, Lidia recognized them:
Sasa, Rithi and Malana. Shining, burning with fire. They must have
sneaked behind enemy lines without being seen. Too small to be noticed,
to even be considered by the arrogant Vanir.
Another war machine rumbled forward, passing overhead.

from the ruins of the front line.
Stupidity. The metal wheels melted too, trapping the
machine in place. Enclosing the soldiers and pilots.
They tried to fire the missiles at Lidia and the three elves standing
next to her, but they didn't have the opportunity. One moment, the war
machine was there, missile launchers ready with their payload, but in the
next instant, the metal of the machine emitted a white glow, and then
melted.
Where the machine had been, a fourth elf glowed, a warm, intense
blue.
Irithys.
She raised her little hand in greeting.

Lidia waved back.
— We found her — Sasa commented to Lidia, breathless from
adrenaline, hope, fear, or all of these at the same time. — We told you
what you and Bryce said.
“But it didn't take much effort to convince her to come,” Malana
added as Irithys approached, leaving a trail of blue embers.
— How did you know you were supposed to come today? — asked
Lidia, as Irithys joined them, a blue star among the three shining lights
of the others.
Irithys smiled, the first genuine smile Lidia had seen from the Goblin
Queen.
— We didn't know. They met me yesterday, and we talked until late
at night. — An affectionate smile was directed at the three elves, who
blushed a raspberry pink with satisfaction. — We were still awake when
the video of Bryce Quinlan and Hunt Athalar came out. We came
running from Ravilis, hoping we could help in some way.
— Apparently, we arrived on time — said Sasa, nodding towards

the smoking ruins.
“It would be a shame to miss out on the fun,” Rithi added, with a
mischievous smile.
Irithys' smile was more moderate when analyzing Lidia. The queen's
flame made Lidia's glow in response. Dancing on your fingertips, in your
hair, like a power happy to recognize another.
— I felt the fire in you as soon as we met — commented the queen.
— But I didn't know that yours would manifest itself with such intensity.
Lidia bowed, but refrained from telling the queen about the antidote,
about how it would make Irithys' flame even more lethal. After… if they
survived. But at that moment, Lidia smiled at the queen and the enemies
who had gathered.
— Let's set everything on fire.
Because, in front of them, a force of dozens, an entire row of war
machines approached. Missile launchers
they creaked, getting into position. Everyone was looking at Lidia and
the elves.
— With pleasure — agreed Irithys, and, even at her distance, Lidia's
skin singed with the heat of the queen's flame. — We will build a new
world on their ashes.
Rithi, Sasa and Malana turned blue, their fireworks matching the
queen's. The four fire elves released their power onto the war machines
and the Vanir that powered them. Lidia's white-hot flames joined theirs,
writhing and dancing, as if every moment of recognition thus far had
paved the way for this instant, as if her flames had known theirs for
millennia.
As one flame, a unified people, as Bryce Quinlan had promised,

their fire fell upon the enemy line.
The machines broke down. Lidia staggered back, and back, and
back with the force of it, still feeling strange about the fire in her own
veins, after remaining suppressed for so long.
But the goblins kept their fire focused on the machines and pilots.
And when Lidia hit the ground, when the missiles exploded upon
contact with the flames, she threw the last blow of power upwards, to
protect both the allied forces fighting behind and the fire goblins in front
from the shrapnel. The fragments of the war machines dissolved until
they became a shower of molten metal.
The liquid hissed as it met the earth.

Irithys lit up like a blue star, moving from machine to machine,
leaving fiery death in her wake. The other three elves followed. Where
they glittered, imperial forces died.
And, while the enemy melted before her fingertips… for an instant,
just an instant, Lidia allowed herself to nourish a spark of hope.
***
— I'm fine — assured Tharion, panting, with blood dripping from his
mouth. - I am fine.
“My tail,” replied Ruhn, kneeling beside the merman,

looking for a bag with a bottle that Lidia mentioned.
The merman would already be dead without the antidote in his
veins. But if Ruhn didn't do something to help Tharion right now, the
other would certainly die in a matter of minutes.
— Put him in a sitting position — Actaeon advised his brother. —
Position his head above your chest so that the blood doesn't come out
so quickly.
“We have to help her,” Brann replied. —She is in battle…
— You're not going anywhere — Ruhn warned the boys. He found
the transparent bottle and drank its entire contents in one gulp. — Help
me lift Ketos. We have two seconds before those asshole guards return,
perhaps with Rigelus in tow…
They didn't even have the second two.
From the staircase at the end of the hallway, the two angels who
had kept the boys trapped appeared. There was no sign of Rigelus,
thank the gods, but at that moment, whatever was in that potion hit
Ruhn's stomach, his body itself, and the world buckled, swelled, went
out...
An instant, long enough that, by the time his vision returned, Ruhn
saw the two angels making to pick up their hands.
weapons.
Ruhn exploded.
Starlight, two beams straight into the angels' eyes, blinding them.
Just like Bryce had done to the murderous twins. Two identical whips
from his shadows wrapped around each of the guards' necks and
began to tighten.
— What the fuck? Brann muttered, but Ruhn barely heard him.
There was only power, growing like never before. His mind was
fully focused as he commanded the shadows to begin cutting into the
angelic flesh.
Blood gushed out, bones cracked, two heads rolled to the ground.
“Fuck,” Brann whispered.

Actaeon stared at Ruhn, mouth open.
— The merman — said the boy, turning to where Tharion had passed out
again.
“Shit,” Ruhn shouted, placing his hand on Tharion's chest.
to stop the bleeding...
A warm, intense magic responded. Healing magic, coming to
surface as if it had been inactive in his blood.
He had no idea how to use it, how to do anything he wanted.
If it weren't for launching a simple command: save it.
In response, light gushed from his hands, and he could feel Tharion's flesh
and bones knitting themselves back together, mending themselves, healing
themselves...
It had been a clear shot to the chest and came out the back. But this new
healing magic seemed to know what to do, how to close both the entrance and
exit holes. He couldn't replace the blood, but if Ketos's blood was no longer
draining from his body… he might survive.
A tremor shook the palace, and time slowed down.

For a blink of an eye, Ruhn thought it might be his own power, but no. I had
felt that before. Not long ago, when the world had reverberated with what he
knew, deep down, was the impact of a dying asteri. Like the death of an
archangel, but worse.
Outro asteri devia estar succumbindo.

But he commanded that great and intense power to continue healing Ketos.
I needed to use that moment to buy more time for the merman, to heal, heal,
heal…
It was an eternity, and yet it was nothing. Time returned to normal, so
quickly that the boys ended up releasing Tharion, but the wound had closed.
Ruhn grunted as he threw the unconscious merman over his shoulder and told
the boys, “We have to get out of here.”
Half of him wanted to throw the twins somewhere safe and run to wherever
Lidia was, but his partner had asked him to protect the two most precious
people in the world to her.
Ruhn would not betray such a great gesture of trust. For nothing in the
world.
They advanced through the palace, the corridors eerily empty.

People should have received the evacuation order and fled. The guards
had even abandoned their posts at the front doors and gates.
Ruhn and the boys arrived on the city streets, and he made to pick up
his cell phone to call Flynn, hoping that the male was nearby with the van.
Only then did he look at the battlefield beyond the city. The cloud of
darkness above the bright lights.
The darkness was pure abyss. The fires were burning on the other side of
the field… It could only be Lidia.
Spirit!
He knew that voice.
He turned, with Tharion a dead weight on his shoulder, and saw Ithan
Holstrom running toward them, a rifle slung over his shoulder.
Ruhn also knew that rifle. The Godslayer Rifle.
Ithan's face was covered in dirt and blood, as if
I had literally fought to get there.
— Ketos is alive?
When Ruhn nodded, Ithan asked, "Where's
Bryce?"
As if in response, light shone overhead in the palace behind them.
Ruhn felt chills.
— We told her and Athalar to find us, but it was a
trap… Fuck.
“I need to get to Bryce,” Ithan said urgently.
Ruhn pointed toward the palace, and couldn't find the words, any
words, to tell the wolf that it might already be too late.
Ace and Brann looked at him, at the palace, at the battlefield.
And the boys were his responsibility. Who he needed

protect during the storm.
“Run,” Ruhn said to Ithan, then gestured to the twins.
—Stay close to me and follow me.
Bryce felt the air cutting into his lungs when he breathed, but he tried to do his
best. To the wind, to the movement and propulsion of her and Hunt across the
small space as Rigelus threw blow after blow.
She wasn't the terrified female she had been a week ago, running away
from him down the hallway. He knew that Theia's light gave her the advantage
to stay one step ahead of Rigelus as he teleported consecutively.
They just needed to deactivate the core, and then she would take her
sword and knife and go after the asteri. One by one.
Hunt's lightning kept crashing into the ground, but she and Hunt kept
moving, so fast that one bang didn't even end before another started. The
sound was monstrous, devouring, and it rained stones and crystals in the room.
But in the middle of the room, the warped and melted crystal tunnel
it was almost complete.
Minutes had passed, perhaps years. Continuing one step ahead of Rigelus
was like a dance, and she knew that it would all come to a destructive end very
soon.
Another bang, and the primalux core's glow intensified,
highlighting Rigelus' furious face with terrifying sharpness.
Bryce teleported them away, but he went slower... too slowly...
Rigelus struck them with power.

A wall of searing acid threw them staggering toward the stairs, and Bryce
knew that only Hunt's lightning had prevented the blow from being fatal. He
mobilized the power to teleport, but the movement failed.
— Perhaps you shouldn't have expended so much strength against Polaris

— commented Rigelus with a small smile, and raised his sparkling hand...
It was a choice between dying or surviving.

Bryce teleported her and Hunt… but not to the center of the
living room. The two reappeared on the floor above, far from the nucleus.
— One more blow! shouted Hunt. — Bryce, just one more fucking hit, and
we’ll do it…
Bryce's knees gave way, and his head felt heavy. The power had dissolved
into stardust in his veins.
Hunt caught her as she staggered.
— Bryce.
Her nose burned, and Bryce could taste the blood in her mouth,
metallic and intense.
“Shit,” Hunt hissed, cupping her face in his hands.
— Bryce… look at me.
She had to try hard. Too much.
“I'm sorry,” she replied, panting, and the words didn't come through.
of a whisper. - I'm sorry.
All that power he had gained… what good was it? And what was the point
of having Aster and the knife if there was no starlight left inside to unite them?
“One more, Bryce,” Hunt repeated, panting. Blood was dripping from his
nose too. The cost of all that power, without ceasing. — Just one more blow,
I can feel it…
“Okay,” she agreed. - He is well.
They needed to get down there again before Rigelus gave a

way to repair the damage the two had already inflicted.
"Okay," she said again, but the power didn't budge.

expressed. She looked at Hunt. — A little push?
From the worry in his eyes, Bryce knew Hunt didn't have much power left
either. However, his lightning ignited, a crown upon the male's head, making
him a primal God.
Instead of hitting her with Hellfire, he pulled her over and kissed her.
Lightning flowed from him to her, a living river of music and power.
Bryce pulled away, panting, and it wasn't much power, but it was there, it was
enough...
“Stop,” said an exhausted male voice from the hallway.
And although she had leapt between worlds and put an end to archangels
and asteri, nothing had prepared her for seeing Ithan Holstrom racing down the
palace corridor with the Godslayer Rifle slung over his shoulder.
***
Hunt no longer had the energy to ponder the fact that Holstrom seemed…
evolved. Older, somehow more powerful, even though Hunt had just seen him.
He didn't care about it when the wolf approached and said: — I was sent to
deliver this to you.
Ithan held out the rifle to Bryce.

With shaking hands, she wielded it.
— Jesiba?
— No. I mean, it was, but… — Ithan's eyes were wide. —There's a bullet in
there, filled with the secundalux of the Crescent City's dead. Connor handed it
to me, to give to you.
— Connor?
Bryce staggered again, and Hunt caught her.
— There's no time to explain, but the dead sent me to deliver the rifle and
the bullet to you. — Ithan's eyes shone with intensity. — Connor said to make
the shot count.
Bryce looked at the rifle in his hands, feeling the weight.
— What use is a secundalux bullet against the asteri? Hunt asked.
“Not against the Asteri,” Bryce corrected. — The bullet is a secondlux

bomb.
Ithan nodded, apparently understanding what she meant better than
Hunt.
— I don't have the strength to teleport us both back to the core — Bryce
said and held Hunt's hand, placing something cold there.
Her words hit him hard, and Hunt snapped, “No fucking
way.” — He started to get excited. — No fucking way,
Bryce, let's send that monster to Hell...
— Leave the palace — warned Bryce, and teleported.
Alone.
Taking the Godslayer Rifle with him, and leaving the Mask in Hunt's
hand.
***
She had a chance.

Last time, Lehabah had managed to buy her time,
the two seconds needed to aim the shot.
That time, there was no fire elf to save her.
There was no synthesis to propel it. Just the training Randall had instilled
in her over the years. Bryce said a silent prayer of thanks to him.
A shot, towards the tunnel that Hunt had opened, to destroy the
last crystal around the core and release all that primalux.
She knew that lining up the shot would be costly. She knew that in the
second it would take to adjust her aim, Rigelus would unleash his power
upon her, and there would be no wall of Hunt's lightning to contain him.
Bryce enjoyed the fierce wind that whipped around him as he
teleported… one last time, propelling himself through the world.
She raised the rifle to shoulder height, releasing the safety, and then
she was in the center of the room filled with debris and debris.
crystals, with the rifle already aimed at the hole in the center.
But Rigelus wasn't alone. Three other remaining asteri had joined him,
and the four formed a solid wall between Bryce and the primalux core. At
least one more of them was dead, if the slowing of the world a few minutes
earlier was any indication. But there were still four left.
Bryce's finger stopped on the trigger. Waste that bullet on them...
— Don't you want to know what you're risking before you act so
recklessly? asked Rigelus, smugly. He didn't wait for a response. — If you
destroy the primalux core, you will destroy Midgard itself.
Bryce didn't lower the Godslayer Rifle, he kept it pointed at the

asteri's feet, at the hole right behind them. To get closer, she would
need to teleport to where they were, and shoot straight into the hole.
“The core is tied to the very soul of Midgard,” Rigelus continued.

— If you destroy it, the entire planet will cease to exist.
Bryce felt chills. I might have responded that that was nonsense,
if it weren't for Vesperus' claims regarding the Cauldron.
“You turned the core into an emergency button,” Bryce whispered.
— To prevent rats like you from getting ideas about destroying us

— sneered the asteri to Rigelus' left, Eosphoros, the Morning Star.
— Our destiny — Rigelus said to Bryce, crossing his hands in

front of him in an almost beatific way — is tied to the fate of this
planet. If it kills our food source, it will doom every living soul on
Midgard as well.
— What if I say you're bluffing? — replied Bryce, buying as much
time as possible to assimilate everything that was happening.
He had heard, witnessed and endured…

— Then a darkness like you have never seen will devour this planet,
and you will all succumb — replied the asteri to the right of Rigelus,
Hesperus, the Evening Star.
— So you would rather die than free any of us? asked Bryce.
— If we are deprived of food, then we will die; There is no purpose in

your existence, other than to serve us as sustenance. You are
possessions.
— You've lost your fucking mind. — Bryce kept the rifle pointed at
their feet. — What if I kill you all and leave the core here? What about?
— You'd have to get close to us with those blades to do that, girl —

sneered Eosphoros, with death in his eyes as he observed the Aster on
Bryce's back and the Truth Revealer sheathed at the female's side. —
We won't make the same mistake as Polaris.
They were right... Bryce knew that if she lowered the gun, if she drew
the blades... Well, they would kill her so quickly that she probably wouldn't
be able to draw the blades in time.
“Think very carefully, Bryce Quinlan,” Rigelus advised, stepping
forward with his hands raised. — One bullet to the core, and this world
and all innocents will be sucked into an endless void.
The same Void that Apollion claimed allowed him to devour the
asteri? Polaris' body had been sucked into nothingness...
— You seemed so outraged in your little video, — commented
Rigelus, almost purring, — at the death of all those innocent people in
the Asphodel Meadows, but what are a few hundred children compared
to the millions you will condemn once you fire that bullet?
An endless void…
“Kill her, brother,” hissed the fourth asteri, Austrus, glowing with
power. — Kill her, and we'll fight the princes again before they find us
down here...
— What will it be, Bryce Quinlan? asked Rigelus, extending his hand. —
You have my word that if you don't fire that bullet, you and yours will be able
to walk out of here free. And they will remain so.
O outro asteri se voltou para ele, indignado.

“I can teach you things you never even dreamed of,” Rigelus promised.
— The language of the words tattooed on your back… is our language. From
our home world. I can teach you how to use it.
Any world at your disposal, Bryce Quinlan. Name a world, and it will be yours.
“I just want this world to be free of you,” Bryce said.

between teeth. - Forever.
One of the asteri began to speak:
— How dare you…
However, Rigelus interrupted him, focusing only on Bryce.
— That could also be viable. A Midgard the way you imagine it. — He
smiled, so excitedly that she almost believed it. — You will have a comfortable
life. I will name you queen for real... not just of the fae, but of all Valbara.
Enough with governors. No more angelic hierarchies, if that's what you and
Athalar want. If you want the dead to be freed, then we will find a way to
circumvent death too. They were always just a dessert to us.
“Dessert,” Bryce repeated, his hands shaking with rage.

She tightened her grip on the rifle.
“The dead will be able to keep the secundalux,” continued Rigelus.
But Bryce, his vision blurred by a familiar white haze of

pure fury, he replied:
— They are not dessert, they are people. People that the inhabitants of
this planet knew and loved.
— It was an unfortunate choice of words — Rigelus admitted — and
I'm sorry about that, but whatever you want, you'll have it. And if you wish…
— Enough of being courteous to the worm — interrupted Eosphoros,
irritated. - She dies.
“I don't think so,” Bryce said, teleporting straight in front of the

asteri. Right next to the hole Hunt had made in the ground. — I think
it's your turn to die now.
Then she fired the Godslayer Rifle at the primalux's core.
***
The asteri screamed, and time lengthened as the bullet fired from the
rifle, slowly enough for Bryce to see what was written on the side of
the round: Memento Mori.
Powered by the souls of the dead, of Connor and the Pack of
Demons, and so many others... The dead sacrificing themselves in
favor of the living. The dead giving up eternity so that Midgard could
be free.
The bullet spiraled downward, toward the light, toward the
final crystal barrier.
Rigelus charged at Bryce, his hands ablaze with raw power. When
he touched her, she would die…
And perhaps that was what Danika had planned from the beginning
when she placed the Horn on her, when she wanted her to claim the
other piece of Theia's star for Avallen. Perhaps it had been what Urd
had planned for her, what he had whispered to her to do since she
had accessed the power, or what Hell had imagined she and Hunt
would do one day.
Bryce wished he had a little more time with Hunt. With parents and
friends. A little more time to enjoy the sun, the sky, the sea. To listen
to music, all the music I could listen to. To dance… just one more step
or a spin…
Rigelus was reaching out his shining hands for her arm; the
projectile continued to spiral. And as that secundalux bullet shattered
the last layer of crystal and descended further and further…
Bryce wished he had more time.
But he hadn't, and if that was all the time he had been given,
She… would make it worth it.
I believe everything happened for a reason. I don't believe it was in vain.
In the distance, the words he had said at the Gate, the previous spring,
echoed.
All of that had happened because of that. Not for her, but
by Midgard. For the safety and future of all the worlds.
And as the bullet penetrated the primalux's core, as Rigelus's hand wrapped
around Bryce's wrist and the pure acid burned his skin and bones wherever it
touched...
Like the battery it was, it took his power and sucked it away.
Light found light, but... Rigelus's starlight was not light.
It was power, yes, but it was primalux. It was the power of Midgard. Of the
people.
It flowed into her, so much power it almost took her breath away. Time
slowed down even more. However, she took more of Rigelus' power.
His power indicator on the wall plummeted.

Rigelus stepped back, releasing her—whether out of pain, fury, or fear, she
couldn't say...
His light was not his own. His light had been stolen from the people of
Midgard. He was a living gate, storing power, and just as she had drawn from
the Gates in the spring, just as she had fueled her Ascension, fueled her power
to reach new levels… in this instant he became hers.
Without the primalux, without the people of Midgard and all the other planets
they had sucked until there was nothing left... without the power of the people,
the damned asteri were nothing.
And with that understanding, the undeniable truth, Bryce channeled all that
power through the Horn on his back.
Right when the core exploded.
Midgard's emergency button has been triggered. Just inches away from
her, the world began to collapse, sucking itself in, obliterating everything…
Bryce commanded, and the Horn obeyed.

A portal was opened… right in front of the core and the dark point that
emerged from there, vacuuming up everything that was life. Bryce sent the
core, that lifeless, growing point, through her portal.
The asteri screamed again and never stopped. As if they knew

Bryce had conjured his own emergency button.
With a thought, Bryce widened the portal to suck in the asteri,

their screams disappearing along with each of their bodies.
Rigelus and his shimmering hands were a faint glow at that moment,
still stretched toward Midgard, clinging to Bryce as he was sucked
away.
Bryce had a single instant to realize what—and where—she had
opened a portal to: a dark, airless place, dotted with small, distant
stars. A blink of an eye, and she was sucked in too.
Straight into deep space.

The asteri's crystal palace was collapsing.

Near the city walls, a crack and a crash left the muffled sounds in Ruhn's
ears, reverberating through his body. He looked back and saw the palace
towers sway and topple.
“Bryce,” he murmured, panting.

Tharion, awake and walking carefully, stopped, and the
twins, who had been helping him, stopped along.
The entire world stopped as the tremor shook everything. When light
broke out from beneath the palace. An enormous force, like a whirlpool
sucking them in, in and in, began to draw them in that direction.
— Run — whispered Tharion, also feeling it.

Ruhn nodded and took both boys by the hand. They ran along the last few
blocks to the city gates, with Tharion struggling to keep pace.
Ruhn felt the pull toward the crumbling palace and

I knew there would be no escape.
***
Bryce had left him.

She had left him and teleported back to face those monsters
alone. Hunt hadn't gone far, with Holstrom close behind, before that
crash shook the palace, the heavens opened, and the palace began
to collapse, more, and more, and more...
It was a choice between letting Holstrom die or continuing
trying to get to Bryce.
But Hunt knew that his partner would never forgive him if he
abandoned Ithan, so he held the wolf and took flight, dodging the
falling blocks of crystal, stone and metal.
He wasn't sure where they had landed, only that they were on the
edge of a giant crater that hadn't existed there before. He remembered
the news footage he had seen, showing what was left of the Asphodel
Meadows… All he could do was wonder if Bryce had done it on
purpose.
But as he tried to wipe the blood and dust from his eyes, Hunt
saw what was at the heart of the crater: a gaping void, with stars
beyond.
The force of the vacuum pulled him in, causing him to stagger
forward…
“Go,” he commanded Holstrom. — Take as many people away
as you can.
Because on the other side of that portal Bryce had opened into
the stars was a wall of impenetrable darkness.
Hunt could make out the glowing figures being sucked in.
Bryce had opened a black hole in the middle of Midgard.
Had he done that with the blades? Or did the union between
Aster and the Truth-Revealer just give her an idea of how she could
capture all the Asteri at the same time, instead of wiping out each
one individually?
It didn't matter.
Nothing mattered, because there was a fucking black hole on the
other side of that portal, and the force of the thing was strong enough
that this side of the portal was being sucked in as well...
But that didn't matter either.
Because there, among the bright lights of the asteri… was Bryce's
starlight.
And she was being sucked into the black hole too.
***
Bryce knew she should be dead. There was no air there, no heat.
Maybe it was the Horn in her skin, the Made essence, that kept her
alive… just enough.
It had been a gamble, but she had seen what Aster and the Truth Teller
had done to Polaris. They had created a vacuum that sucked the asteri
inside... the only kind of prison that could destroy a being of light. The only
force in the universe that ate light, so strong that no light could escape. A
portal to nowhere.
To a black hole.
Wasn't that the unholy power Apollion possessed? The power of the
Void. The antithesis of light.
The only thing that could kill a planet with a
mordida. Destruir os asteri, e Midgard junto.
The asteri also knew that... forever, and used it as an emergency
button, to be activated upon the destruction of the primalux core.
So she had breasted their black hole with her own. A bigger one. A
black hole, a void, to eat the other black holes.
Because Bryce couldn't let that happen to Midgard. He had opened his
own portal to the black hole, which was just the right size so that only those
who were very close to the core would be sucked in.
And now she was there, floating through space with the asteri.
Light poured from the glowing beings around them, their screams
silenced by the absence of air. Behind her, the only light that filtered
through the crack she had left behind... a crack that still needed
to close. A little window into Midgard. She couldn't bring herself to close it. Not
yet.
Bryce allowed himself to look at the sliver of light, the blue sky. The last
vestige of home.
In front of the asteri was the shining mass that was the nucleus of the
primalux, the growing black hole at the heart of it…
The light expanded and curved as it was pulled down the throat of the larger
black hole. And then it disappeared.
There was no beam left. No emergency button, no primalux. Midgard was
free of them.
That crack of light became thinner and thinner. It was too far for her to reach.
It was not possible to return to the portal. There was no way to propel yourself
there. There was only the slow flow towards the black hole's event horizon. The
inevitable and crushing end. Ahead, the first two asteri, Hesperus and Eosphoros,
approached
the point of no return. They tried to hold on to nothingness, looking for a way
to cling to the emptiness of space to move them away from the gaping mouth of
the black hole...
But the shining fingers found nothing as they glided

over the point and disappeared.
Time slowed down for a fleeting moment… just one, with time dragging, and
dragging… then it returned to normal. The deaths were quick. An agile swallow.

Rigelus and Austrus followed, but the two clung to each other.
to the other.
No, she saw it immediately: it was Austrus who was holding the other, frantic
as a drowning person, and Rigelus was trying to free himself, hitting his fellow
asteri with the remnants of power that Austrus absorbed...
Maybe if Bryce hadn't drained Rigelus' power, he might have succeeded.

The Radiant Hand seemed to realize this as well. He decided to try another
movement to free himself, because he raised his feet between them and kicked.
Austrus fell backwards… straight to the point of no return. Your

screams made no sound.
Time slowed down and shuddered as the black hole devoured him
as well.
And then there was only Rigelus left, still glowing… but in a faint
way. That kick he had given Austrus had propelled him towards Bryce.
There was nothing she could do to escape, there was no way to escape
his grasp…
Rigelus' expression revealed pure hatred as the two clashed. They
whirled through space, where up and down had no meaning, and
whatever protection the Horn gave her seemed to bow in the asteri's
presence.
The Horn would bow to the creator, the master.
She needed air. I needed air...
Bryce pushed him away, getting some space between them. It didn't
break the contact completely, but it was enough for the Horn's protection
to activate again and she was able to breathe.
Rigelus was saying something, shouting in her face, but there was
no sound. There was no sound in the space. Just his face contorted in
contempt, and she knew he saw the same expression on her face as
Bryce inhaled. The last inspiration, she knew. It would make that worth
it too.
Bryce held his thin torso and hugged him, then wrapped him
with the legs too.
Rigelus had a one-way ticket to that black hole…
and she would make sure of it.
Even if, to do so, I had to go along.
With the Umbra Mortis helmet thrown into the rubble at his side, Hunt
watched the giant, dark thing that had appeared in the center of the
city and, little by little, devoured everything.
Bryce was in that hole. A dark wind ruffled the hair
of Hunt, and he didn't need to look to know who had arrived.
— I told her to choose to live — Aidas murmured, sadly, looking
at the starry black opening.
“She wouldn't be Bryce if she'd chosen herself,” Hunt said
hoarsely. He wouldn't love her so much if she weren't the kind of
person who would have jumped into that hole. — We have to help
her — he added, with a grunt, his wings struggling against the pull of
the black hole that was trying to suck all of Midgard into itself.
— We can't do anything — countered Aidas, his voice filled with
anguish.
— I have to try.
Hunt bent his knees and spread his wings, preparing for that leap
into space. For Bryce. And to that eternal wall of black where his
partner shone.
“If you go in there, you'll die,” Aidas replied. “There's no air to
propel your wings, nothing to help propel them so you can get to
Bryce. You will be adrift, and even then
she will end up going with Rigelus to the Void. After a few minutes, you
follow helplessly.
—But she left the portal open. To Midgard,” said Hunt.
Aidas turned exhausted eyes to him.
— I believe it will close when it and the Horn are obliterated.
“She left him open to coming home,” Hunt snapped.

He analyzed the Mask in his hands. Bryce had left her with him…
Why? There was no way he could give her back to the fae on her home
world. Hell, he probably couldn't even handle that shit. It wasn't done, I
wouldn't be able to command it.
“She probably already died from lack of oxygen,” he said.
Aidas quietly. - I am really sorry.
"I don't accept that for a minute," Hunt replied,
irritated. — I refuse to accept…
“Then go die with her,” said Aidas, without cruelty. — If that's what
you want, do it now. She and Rigelus are already approaching the edge
of the Void.
Hunt analyzed the Mask again.
Bryce didn't do anything without a reason. He had left the Mask with
him, knowing he was going to his own death. He had left her with her
partner... her partner, who had a little of her Made essence in him
because the two had made love the night before.
Which perhaps attributed to him the ability to manage it. Just for one
time.
She had given everything for Midgard. By him.
That day last spring, when there was no more hope, she had made
the Descent alone. To save him, and to save the city... and she had
done it out of pure love. He had done that without expecting to return.
Just as he should have jumped into the portal with the suspicion that he
would never return.
Demons spread through the streets, and the Asterian Guard still
fights, unaware that their remaining masters are on their way to
annihilation. The Fallen mechsuits and enemies collided.
Bryce had walked into his own death for him that spring day.
Hunt could do no less for her.

“Athalar,” called Aidas as he watched the hole in the world. - He
finished. Come… We have to finish this. Even without the asteri, there
are other battles to be fought before the day ends well.
The words sank in—“without the asteri”—but the ground shook behind
him.
Hunt turned around. A mech-suit was there, towering imposingly
above him. Without a pilot… it was one of the Fallen. The glowing green
eyes alternated between him and the hole in the universe, the small beam
of light wandering and wandering towards the infinite darkness.
The mech-suit reached out, and Hunt knew.
I knew who the Fallen was who controlled the suit, whose soul had
approached to offer assistance. To help you do the impossible.
“Shahar,” Hunt murmured, and tears ran down his face.

face.
The mech-suit, with the archangel's soul inside, tilted its head.
Aidas took a step back, as if surprised.
In the streets, other costumes had stopped in place. Kneeling, in
reverence. Hunt could feel them… the souls of the Fallen. Surrounding
him, surrounding the suit.
But Shahar just knelt in front of Hunt and opened the pilot's door.
Their wings wouldn't work in space, but the propulsion of the suit's
weapons would.
Hunt didn't hesitate. He entered, squeezing his wings into the small
space inside, and closed the metal door.
“Thank you,” Hunt said to the archangel, to the Fallen who now felt
pressed around him.
He had previously been forced to dismember mech-suits on the
battlefield to help Shahar's sister destroy humans. But at that moment,
the suit would help him save a life. The most important life in the world for
him.
Hunt didn't look at Aidas, at the ruined palace sending debris toward
the portal, or at the black hole so enormous that the pull threatened to suck
everything in. He just stared into the void and ran, the suit rumbling around,
straight to the portal.
Then he jumped after his partner.
***
It was too far.

Not to the suit, whose blasts of power sent Hunt staggering toward
Bryce and Rigelus, but to the oxygen systems. This information lit up on
the screens, flashing red.
The air became thin; his lungs started to hurt…
Hunt did the only thing he could think of: he put the Mask on his face.
To escape death, he would wear the artifact. The real Umbra Mortis.
The Masquerade tore his soul apart.

Life and death… they were all in that space, in the universe, in fact. But
the huge, gaping pit, so close to Bryce and Rigelus… that was death
incarnate.
The two were fighting. Hunt could see it now. The light shining between
them, rippling into nothingness, each trying to get away from the other, to
finish each other off…
There was only one sulfur missile left in the suit. Hunt aimed toward his
partner and Rigelus. The two were moving very quickly, very close together.
Shooting one would be shooting the other.
He could have sworn a light, ghostly hand guided his to the fire button.
“She's going to be thrown in there too,” Hunt whispered to Shahar.
The ghostly hand squeezed (gently, as if that was all she could do) his
hand. On the button.
As if to say: Shoot.
The gods had never done him any favors, Urd had certainly never
helped him, but still…
Maybe they would have helped.

Maybe that day he met Bryce, the gods had sent him there. Not to be an
instrument of Hell, but because Urd knew that there would be a female there who
would be kind, selfless and courageous, who would give her all for the city, for the
planet. And that she would need someone to give everything for her.
Bryce had given him a life, a beautiful life. He didn't need all the visual
evidence that had flashed before his face when he'd been in the Comitium cell to
realize. She had given joy, laughter and love, freed Hunt from a cold, dark
existence and led him toward the light. From her light.
Hunt wouldn't let that light go out.

Then he pressed the button to launch the missile. One squeeze, and the thing
shot from the mech-suit's shoulder panel.
And, as he was launched by the suit, spiraling through space, golden
with all that angelic wrath…
Hunt felt Shahar go along.
I could have sworn I saw huge, glistening wings curl around the
missile as it spiraled through space, straight towards Bryce and Rigelus.
The cause of the Fallen, finally ended with one last blow.
Bryce and Rigelus stopped the fight as the glowing missile approached.
And Hunt knew that it was Shahar, along with each of the Fallen and everyone
who fought against the Asteri, who guided the missile to hit Rigelus square in the
face.
It didn't explode. He pulled it away from Bryce, and the Radiant Hand
staggered to the point of no return, the missile with it…
And Bryce was free. To drift.
But still too close to the edge of the void.
Using his precious store of firepower as momentum, Hunt propelled himself
forward, hurtling through space to his partner, his wife, his love…
The missile and Rigelus crossed the horizon.

Time slowed down.
It stretched and rippled as a flare of light appeared, either Rigelus or the
missile bursting, Shahar and the cause of the Fallen
disappearing together into the darkness.

And then Bryce stood before him, her hair flying as if she were underwater.
The stern face… frozen.
Unconscious.
The Mask said a different word, but he ignored it.
He ignored it and stretched out his arms as much as possible, the time was too slow...
The suit's metal hands wrapped around her waist as time returned to normal.
He released what little artillery remained and dashed for home. To the portal,
which was beginning to close.
That could only mean one thing. The Mask had been trying to tell him that,
but Hunt had refused to believe it. I wouldn't believe it for a second.
But the portal was closing, getting smaller and smaller…

A dark, glowing figure filled the space. Then another.
Aidas and Apollyon.
Their powers gripped the edges of the portal and opened it wide.
little more. They kept him like that for a moment longer.
And with what little strength he had left, Hunt hurled a desperate, revolting,
scorching rope of lightning toward Apollion. The only being on Midgard that could
withstand its power.
Apollion, once again in his humanoid form, grabbed the rope and pulled.
Aidas lit up with black light, struggling against the closing portal, against Urd's
will. Hunt could already make out the princes' tense faces, Apollion's teeth
clenched with the effort of pulling him through the lightning, inch by inch, closer
and closer. Aidas sweated, panting, as he struggled to keep the portal open…
And then Ruhn appeared. Starlight burning. Fighting against

the impossible. Lidia beside him, her fire crackling.
Tharion. Holstrom. Flynn and Dec. A fire elf, with the
little body lit on fire. Isaiah and Naomi.
So many hands, so many powers, from almost all Houses.
What mattered at the end of the day was the friends they made.
Not the enemies.
For love, everything is possible.

It was love that was keeping the portal open. It was what kept him open
until the end, until Hunt and Bryce crossed back over, falling into the land
of Midgard, the blue sky filling his vision and all that wonderful air filling his
lungs…
The portal closed, sealing the black hole and all space within.
The asteri had died.

Hunt was out of the mech-suit in the blink of an eye, breaking the metal
panel, and went to where Bryce was lying on the floor. She didn't move. He
wasn't breathing.
At last he let the Mask say the word he had been
ignoring it since it had reached Bryce in the depths of space.
Dead.
“It took too long,” Declan said as Hunt tried to revive Bryce's heart,
the lightning hitting her again and again and again. — She spent too
long without oxygen, even though she was Vanir. There's nothing my
healing magic can do if it's already…
Hunt threw the lightning at his partner's chest again.

Bryce's body jolted, but his heart didn't beat again.
Their friends were gathered around, shadows of Hunt's suffering,

of unfathomable pain.
Get up, he ordered the Mask, Bryce. Get up, dammit.
But the Mask didn't respond. As if with one last Fuck You, the
Mask fell from his face. As if her Made essence had disappeared
from him with Bryce's death.
“Bryce,” he ordered, his voice cracking.
This wasn't happening, couldn't be happening to
him, not when they had come so close…
— Blessed Luna, so radiant in the sky — whispered Flynn —
spare your daughter...
“No prayer,” interrupted Hunt, grunting. — No fucking prayer.
She couldn't be dead. I had fought so much and done so much...

Hunt threw the lightning at her chest again.
It had worked before. On the day of the demons' attack on
spring… he had brought her back to life.
But the heart no longer responded.
Rigelus had used his shitty lightning to resurrect the Harpy… Why didn't
it work on Hunt? What had Rigelus known about Hunt's power that Hunt
himself hadn't?
— Do something — he ordered, growling, to Apollion and Aidas. — You
have a black hole in your fucking mouth… you have all the power in the
galaxy! —he shouted at the Prince of the Moat. — Save her.
"I can't," Apollion replied, and Hunt had never hated anything in his life
as much as he hated the distress in the prince's eyes. The tears on Aidas'
face. — We don't have such a gift.
“Then find Thanatos,” ordered Ruhn. — He goes around calling himself
the Prince of Souls or some shit like that.
Find him and...
“He can't save her either,” Aidas replied softly. —
None of us can.
Hunt looked at his partner, motionless, cold and lifeless.
The scream that emanated from him shook the world.
There was nothing but that scream, and the emptiness in the place
where she had been, where the life they were supposed to have together
should have been. And when the breath ran out, for Hunt it was… the end.
There was nothing left, and what was the point of it all if…?
Someone placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Maybe I can try something,” said a female voice.
Hunt looked up and saw Hypaxia Enador beside him, with the Bone
Crown of the House of Flame and Shadow above her shining black curls.
***
His sister had died. Ruhn looked at Bryce's face and knew she was dead.
More than dead.
Ruhn's mind was silent. Lidia stood beside him, holding his hand, with her
children at her back. It was the boys who convinced him to return… they had
refused to move forward until they had helped in some way.
But it hadn't made the slightest difference. Not even Athalar's lightning could
revive Bryce.
And then Hypaxia had stepped forward, wearing that crown of bones.
Somehow, she had transformed into the Head of the House of Flame and
Shadow. And he offered help.
“She'll never forgive me if you resurrect her as a shadow of herself,” Hunt
replied, his voice weak with tears, with screams.
“I'm not proposing to resurrect her,” Hypaxia assured.

Hunt ran his hands through his hair.
—She doesn't have a soul... I mean, she does, but she sold it to Sub-
King, then if that's what you need, you're out of luck...
“The Sub-King has died,” Hypaxia said. Ruhn's knees felt weak. — Any
dealings he had made with the living or the dead are undone and void. Bryce's
soul is hers to use as she pleases.
— Please… help her — said Ruhn, desperately. — Help her if you can.
Hypaxia looked at him, then at Lidia beside him, her hands

united of the two. Then he smiled.
- Anything. Whatever you need, I'll give anything -
whispered Athalar.
The witch looked at Bryce and replied to Athalar: — It is
not a sacrifice, but an exchange.
She motioned behind her, summoning Jesiba Roga to stand beside her.
***
Hunt stared at the sorceress, but Roga didn't take his eyes off Bryce.
“Ah, Quinlan,” Roga murmured, tears gathering on her eyelashes.
“Priestess,” Apollion hissed, and Roga raised his full eyes.

of disdain and disgust for the Prince of the Moat.
—Are you still wondering if I'm going to do anything with those books? — Roga
shouted at Apollion, irritated. She pointed at the dead Bryce. — Don't you think
that if they had any power, I would be using it right now to save this girl?
Apollion scowled at her.

— You were born a liar, priestess…
“We don't have much time,” Hypaxia interrupted, and even the Moat Prince fell
silent at the command in her voice. — We need to act before her body suffers too
much damage.
— Please — Ruhn asked, his voice hoarse — just tell us. I know I said we
didn't need it, but if we can offer something...
— It's up to me to offer — explained Jesiba, looking at Bryce from
new.
Tears ran down the sorceress's cheeks. Priestess, as Apollion had called her.
— Offer what? asked Lidia.

- My life. My long and wicked life,” replied Roga.
She looked up at Apollion again.
“That's not possible,” replied Apollion.
“You cursed me,” declared Jesiba, and even though Hunt was very perplexed,
he couldn't interrupt. — You cursed me with immortality. Now I am turning it into a
gift: the gift of a long Vanir life. I freely offer it to Bryce Quinlan if she wants.
“The curse is for the living,” cried Apollion.

“Then it's a good thing I'm good with the dead,” Hypaxia added.
Perhaps for the first time in his entire existence, Apollion looked surprised.
—Is…is this possible? — asked Aidas.

“I offer my life, then,” Hunt said.
—And what would be the point of that? — replied Jesiba, with a laugh.
humorless. — Save her, only to end up dead yourself?
—Are… are you going to die? asked Ruhn.
Jesiba smiled softly.

— After fifteen thousand years, Midgard has already been given to me.
— We have to do it now. I can already feel it fading away,” Hypaxia
intervened.
Hunt didn't like that word at all, so he said to Jesiba: — Thank you. I
didn't know that Quinlan... that she had any value to you.
Jesiba raised her eyebrows, and some of the irritable sorceress he knew
returned. — Obviously she
does. Do you know how difficult it is to find a competent assistant?
But Hunt couldn't laugh at that moment.

“Thank you,” he repeated. — I hope… that you find peace.
Jesiba's smile lit up her face, and it was perhaps the first real smile he had
ever seen her give.
— I already found it, Athalar. Thanks to both of you. — After nodding to
him and Bryce, she walked back to Hypaxia and offered her hand. — Guide
the House of Flame and Shadow back to the light
— she said to the witch, who bowed her head.
None of them dared to speak as Hypaxia began to chant.
***
That place was the opposite of where she had gone during the Descent.
Instead of the infinite abyss, it was just… light. A soft, golden light. Gentle and
pleasing to the eye.
It was warm and relaxing, and she didn't want to be anywhere else, except
for…
Except for…
Bryce looked back. There was more light shining in that direction.
— Looking for the exit? — asked a dry female voice. — It's that way.
Bryce turned around, and Jesiba was there.

The golden light rippled and faded, and then the two were on a green
hill in a lush and pleasant terrain. The land Bryce had seen that day after
the attack in the spring… when he had believed Connor and the Pack of
Demons had been safe and secure in the Bone Quarter.
It was real.
— Quinlan.
She turned to Jesiba.
— Are we dead?
- We are.
— The others…
— They are alive, although the asteri are not. — And he nodded
ironically. - Thanks to you.
Bryce smiled, and allowed the sensation to course through his body.
- Good good.
She inhaled some of the fresh, sweet air, noted the hint of salt,
a hint of sea nearby…
— Quinlan, you have to go back — said Jesiba.
Bryce tilted his head.
- Like this?
— To life — said Jesiba, as irritable as usual. —
Why do you think I'm here, now? I traded my life for yours.
Bryce didn't react.
- What? Why?
— Holstrom can fill you in on the details of my existence, but let's just
say... — Jesiba approached and held his hand. — That Archesian amulet
isn't just for protection against my books or demons. It's a link to Midgard
itself.
Bryce looked down at his chest, at the thin gold chain and delicate
tangle of circles hanging there.
- I don't understand.
—The amulets belonged to the librarian-priestesses of Parthos. Each
was imbued with the innate magic of Midgard...
older. The kind that all worlds have, for those who know where to look.
- And?
—So what if I think Midgard knows what you did, whatever way a planet
can be sentient. You know how you freed Avallen, not because you wanted
to claim the land, but because you believed it was the right thing to do.
At Bryce's surprised expression, Jesiba continued: —

What's up, Quinlan? I know you can be all soft-hearted.
— The words were dry, but the sorceress's expression was soft.
“And what does that have to do with” — Bryce gestured around them —
“all this?”
— As a thank you for what you did for Midgard…
we have been given permission to make this switch, so to speak.
Bryce was left unresponsive again, still not understanding.
- A switch?
Jesiba continued, ignoring the question: —
Parthos's books are yours now. Protect them, watch over them.
Share them with the world.
Bryce stammered,
“How is it possible that you… why did you…?”
— A hundred thousand humans marched on Parthos to save the books…
to save centuries of knowledge from the clutches of the asteri.
Everyone knew they wouldn't come back. That day I had to run away. To
protect the books, I ran away from my friends and family, who fought to buy
me time. — Her eyes shone with tears. — You entered that portal today
knowing that you wouldn't return either. Now I can offer what I couldn't offer
at the time, so many years ago. My family and friends are long gone, but I
know they would like to offer this to you too. As a thank you for freeing our
world.
Bryce staggered. Had Jesiba been in Parthos when it had collapsed?
—The books are yours — repeated Jesiba. — And the gallery collection
also. The paperwork is ready.
— But how did you know I would end up…?
— I've never seen anyone sacrifice their own life as much as you did —
interrupted Jesiba. — I thought an intervention would be necessary today. —
She looked at the blue sky and smiled to herself.
— Go home, Bryce. All of this will be here when it's ready.
- My soul…
- It's free. The Sub-King died. I repeat: Holstrom will fill you in on everything.
Bryce felt his eyes burn.

— I don't… I don't understand. I was happy to sacrifice my life…
Well, not happy, but willing…
— I know — said Jesiba, squeezing her hand. - That's why I'm here. —
Then he gestured to the spot behind Bryce, where a crystal door, reminiscent
of the Crescent Moon City Gates, glowed. —The angel is waiting for you,
Quinlan.
The angel. Hunt.
What she had left behind. What you were looking for, the
reason for hesitation...
“All of this will be here when it's ready,” Jesiba repeated, then gestured
toward the rolling green hills. — We'll all be here when you're ready.
In the distance, on a distant hill, there were seven figures.

Bryce knew them by their shape, the height of each one and the glow that
surrounded them. She made out Connor with his head held high behind.
And in front, with his hand raised...
Bryce burst into tears, overwhelmed with pure joy and love as she raised
her hand to greet Danika.
Danika, there… with everyone. Safe and loved.
She heard the words on the wind, driven from her friend's soul: Light
it, Bryce.
And Bryce began to laugh and sob as he shouted back across the lush
plains and hills, “Light it up, Danika!”
A wolfish laugh flowed to her. Then there was a spark of light

over Danika's shoulder, and Bryce knew that fire...
She blew Lehabah a kiss. Still crying, she turned back to Jesiba.
- As? The second luxury…

— He took their power, but what is eternal, what is made of
love… can never be destroyed.
Bryce watched her, amazed.
Jesiba riu.
— And that's the most emotion you'll see from me, even here.
— She gave Bryce a little push toward the crystal arch.
—Live life, Quinlan. And live well.
Bryce nodded and hugged Jesiba, conveying everything in his heart.
Jesiba hugged her back… At first a little awkwardly, then willingly. And
during the hug, Bryce looked once again at the hill where Danika, Lehabah,
Connor, and the Pack of Demons had waved.
But they were gone. They returned to enjoy the wonders and peace of
the place. Knowing this filled her heart with joy.
Then Bryce turned his back on Jesiba. To what awaited them, all of
them, and returned to the archway.
Towards life.
Towards Hunt.
Bryce opened his eyes.

There were… a lot of people around. Most were crying.
“That,” she declared, grunting, “is a pretty shitty way to
participate in the sailboat itself.
Everyone was open-mouthed, watching her. And Hunt… he was real, he
was right there, and the shock on his face was so genuine that Bryce just
laughed.
The asteri had died. They, and the primalux, the secundalux, the prison of
an afterlife; all those she had loved and lost… were safe too.
All of Danika's work, done.

Bryce looked from Hunt to Ithan, also leaning over her, and
He watched the wolf closely.
— Who died and made you Cousin?
Ithan was gaping too, but Hypaxia—crowned with bones, holy shit—smiled
and replied, “Sabine.”
And Bryce laughed again.

— What the fuck, Quinlan? — muttered Hunt, and she looked back at her
partner, whose face was so haggard, his eyes filled with wonder…
She knew there were others there. Ruhn, Lidia, Flynn, Dec, Tharion
and the Princes of Hell, but they all disappeared while looking at Hunt.
Bryce touched his cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb.
— Look at my big, tough, asshole alpha — she said softly, her voice
hoarse with tears.
— How can you play at a time like this? —
Hunt retorted, and Bryce leaned over and kissed him.
And it was light, love and life.
She had a faint sense of something stirring around them and Ruhn
asking, "Does
anyone want to... um, put Jesiba's ashes in a... cup or something?"
But Bryce just kept kissing Hunt, and he hugged her,

squeezing it tight against his body.
As if it would never let go again.
***
Hunt allowed himself to take his eyes off Bryce for a few minutes so he
could complete the last task.
Wings of all colors and the carcasses of mechsuits still lay where
they had collapsed hours before, after falling as soon as the souls of the
Fallen had left them.
He didn't have a specific one in mind, but he walked through the field
full of mech-suits... skipping over the bodies of dead demons and asteri
angels, feathers scattered everywhere, until he finally stopped in front of
a heavy suit, his eyes blacked out. .
“Thank you,” he said to the Fallen, even though their souls were
gone. To the place Bryce claimed they would all go in the end. — For
supporting me one last time.
The battlefield beyond the city walls was eerily silent except for the
calls of the scavengers, but the city behind him was a symphony of
sirens, wails, and screams. In
news helicopters circling, trying to find a way to convey what had happened.
Naomi had gone to find them to try and restore some semblance of
of order.
“We did it,” Hunt said, with a lump in his throat. — Finally, we did it. The
hierarchies are still here, I guess, but I promise…” He swallowed hard, analyzing all
the cold, empty metal littering the field around him. — From now on it will be different.
Wings fluttered above him, and then Isaiah was there, his wounds already healed
under the blood crusted on his dark skin. The forehead was smooth, wonderfully free
of the halo.
With empty eyes, Isaiah analyzed the mec-suits and bowed his head in silent
thanks.
“Wherever they went,” Isaiah commented, after
one moment —, I hope it’s the paradise they deserve.
“Yes,” Hunt agreed, and he knew in his heart that it was true. Then he observed
the angel. - What happened?
Isaiah gave a small smile.
“I heard you came here and I thought you might want to
company. You know, someone to sulk with.
Hunt laughs.
- Thanks. I'm always grateful to have a partner to sulk along with me.
Isaiah's smile widened, but his eyes shone as he spoke, "So, after all this time,
all this suffering...
finally the cause of the Fallen has been concluded."
“I was telling them exactly that,” Hunt said,

gesturing to the empty metal carcasses.
Isaiah squeezed Hunt's shoulder.
— Thank you… for fighting with us until the end. Your mother would be
proud, I think. Fucking proud, Hunt.
Hunt was speechless, then nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.
— But what do we do from now on? I don't know shit about building a
government. You know?
“No. But I think we're going to get a crash course,” Isaiah confirmed.
— That's not encouraging.

Hunt turned back to the city. It was a shock, as big as a blast of his
lightning, to see the familiar cityscape without the crystal palace towers.
The asteri had died.

He needed to get back to Bryce. Hug her, kiss her, smell her. For no
other reason than this: the fact that he had come very, very close to losing
her.
“Hunt,” Isaiah called. The eyes of the white-winged angel
they were solemn. —You could rule the angels, you know?
Hunt didn't react.
— We will dismantle the archangels, their schools and hierarchies, and it
will take years, but in the meantime, we will need a leader.
Someone to guide us, to mobilize us and give us the courage to turn our
backs on the old ways, and move towards something new and fair —
continued Isaiah, folding his wings. — That leader should be you.
It was the second time that angels had bowed to him. It was the second
time he had been granted recognition and permission. And, beauty, with
Hellfire in his veins, he could even be a leader. He could get any archangel
stronghold or faction to subordinate themselves to him.
But…
Hunt's cell phone vibrated, and he took the device out of his pocket.
Bryce makes me have magical orgasms (literally) had sent a message.
Where are you?? I have separation anxiety! Come back here now!!!
Another flutter, and she added, I mean, after you do what you need to do.
Like, I support you having the space you need to do what needs to be done.
Another vibe.
But still, come back here now.
A laugh escaped Hunt. He had everything he needed.

Everything you could want.
No need to pull your panties over your head, Quinlan, he replied.
I'm already coming back.
Then the male added: Actually, do me a favor: take off your panties
quickly.
He didn't wait for a response, he just put his cell phone in his pocket.
back and smiled at Isaiah.
The friend raised his eyebrows, no doubt surprised that he had stopped
to text instead of responding to such an important suggestion.
But Hunt already had the answer. He had already thought of one for
some time.
He patted Isaiah on the shoulder and said: — The
angels already have a leader to guide them in this process, Isaiah.
—Celestina…
— No Celestina. — He squeezed his friend's shoulder once, then moved
away, flapping his wings, ready for them to take him to his wife, his partner,
his best friend. To the future that awaited them. - You.
- I? —Isaiah replied, choking. — Athalar…

Hunt took his feet off the ground, hovering a little as the autumn breeze
ruffled his wings and hair, as if singing the news of the world to come.
—Lead the angels, Isaiah. I'm here if you need me.

— Hunt.
But Hunt took off into the sky, toward Bryce and what
bring it tomorrow.
***
Bryce's soul was hers. She thought it had always been hers, but it had been
a… loan.
But it was hers again, completely, and there was a whole new world to
explore without the asteri lurking around. A whole new afterlife, when she
and Hunt were ready.
But only after a good, long time. Not until

solve everything they had to solve.
But there was one specific task she needed to do right away. How Isaiah had
managed to commandeer a helicopter to fly to Nena so quickly, Bryce had no idea.
But perhaps it had something to do with Celestina's influence, even Ephraim's
control. Or perhaps it had more to do with Celestina wanting to impress Hypaxia,
who, apparently, had become the Head of the House of Flame and Shadow. And,
if the glances they surreptitiously gave each other were any indication, Hypaxia
didn't seem to be completely opposed to the idea of talking to Celestina again.
new.
The Ocean Queen and the fleet had taken the witch there…
Hypaxia had intercepted the monarch on her way to beat up the Asteri for
kidnapping Lidia's two children. The Queen of the Ocean could be quite a figure,
but she stood her ground. And when the two children were kidnapped while in her
care, she had appeared prepared to flood the entire city in their defense.
She and her commanders continued into the Eternal City, the threat of the
tsunami she had kept under control around the perimeter was causing those loyal
to the Asteri to hold back. At least the ruler seemed too busy with the new world to
deal with the trivial nitpicking with Tharion. For now.
Yes, it was a new world. In almost every way.

Declan was already working with a team to calculate how long Midgard could
run using what was left of Primalux before it went dark, without a new Primalux
powering the power grid. Before they had to pick up the candles and watch their
cell phones drain little by little. Not that there would be any signal when the
networks failed.
Everyone would return to the Avallen-like lifestyle. What a shame Morven

wasn't there to enjoy it.
But they would need to think of a solution soon if they wanted to restore
Primalux's electrical system or find an alternative method. Whether they would
require people to cede power, or whether
would tax the super powerful. Requesting that archangels, who had
plenty of power, donate part of their power to the network. The powerful
serving the weak.
Or anything else like that. Honestly, Bryce planned to leave the
solving to smarter minds than hers. Although he knew that he would end
up needing to intervene to give him some scratches before everything
was finished. At that moment… There was a capital in chaos. The world
turned upside down. Still, she focused her gaze towards the north.
He found Nesta in the same room the female had been in before.
With Ember, Randall, and a handsome, slightly familiar winged male
beside them who smelled like Nesta's partner. They were sitting at a
table talking while drinking tea and eating chocolate cake.
Chocolate cake, damn it.

Nesta was immediately on her feet, a long dagger in her hand. The
male beside her also made to grab a hidden weapon, as agile as a
thought.
But Bryce only looked at his parents. Happy and at ease with the fae.
Her mother stared back at her as if she had seen a ghost.

The teacup he was holding began to shake on its saucer.
Hunt saved Ember from guessing what had happened by saying:
— The asteri died. Midgard is free.

A tear slipped from Ember's eye. Bryce didn't think twice before
taking a step into the other world and hugging his mother tightly.
Ember held Bryce's face in her hands.

— I'm very proud to be your mother.
Bryce's face lit up with emotion, and her eyes stung with tears.
Randall leaned over to place a kiss on his daughter's head.
— You did well, daughter.

Bryce hugged his father too. He embraced the human warrior who
had served in the Asteri armies, shattering his own soul
for them, until his mother made him whole again.

Nesta and her partner tensed, and Bryce knew Hunt had
entered that world too.
He looked around the room. To the city sparkling below, with a ribbon of
river snaking from end to end. They must have been on top of a mountain
to have that view.
— You have one minute before Rhys gets here and loses his temper —
warned Nesta's partner.
“Ah, there won’t be a problem with Rhys, Cassian,” he replied.
Ember... in the language of fairies.
Noticing Bryce's shocked expression, Randall said in the same language:
— It
got too difficult having to mime everything.
They gave us that seed thing they offered you.
Only Bryce shook his head.
— Won't there be a problem with Rhysand? The guy who brings
darkness incarnate…
— He and Randall became close, they are both overprotective parents
— Ember explained. —So now Rhys knows exactly what kind of shit you
like to pull, which he apparently did here too…
Bryce looked at Nesta, who was watching everything warily. Then Bryce
reached into his jacket and pulled out the Mask.
- Here. As promised.
Everyone was silent.
And then Bryce pulled out the Truth Teller, and Cassian looked
to be about to position himself between her and Nesta.
Hunt also took a fighting stance in response, but
Bryce just said:
— Asshole alphas.
And he placed the dagger on the table, among the tea dishes and
snacks.
— You brought them back. — Nesta's voice was low.
— Did you think I wouldn't bring it?
“I'm not sure what I thought,” Nesta replied, but she gave a small smile.
— Poor Nesta got in trouble after you took their weapons and left
us here — Ember explained. — I tried to explain to Rhysand and Azriel
that there's no way to stop it when you put something in your head,
and I think Feyre, Rhysand's partner, believed it, but... — Ember looked
at Nesta and made a face. — I apologize again for my daughter's
behavior.
— I made the choice to give her the Mask — Nesta reminded
Ember. To Bryce, she said wryly, “Your mother, for some reason,
doesn't believe I gave up the weapons willingly.
Bryce rolled his eyes at his mother.
- Excellent. Thank you for that. — She gestured to the portal.
twinkling behind them. - We can?
Ember gave a slight smile.
—So they really died.
“They died, never to return,” confirmed Bryce,
feeling my heart rejoice with the words.
Ember's eyes glistened with tears, but she turned away,
holding Nesta's hands and squeezing firmly.
—Despite the fact that my daughter lied, conspired and
basically betrayed us…
— Wow, no need to mince words, Mom — murmured Bryce,
which made Nesta cast a sideways glance, amused.
But Ember continued, looking only at Nesta.
— I'm happy for one thing: having met you.
Nesta pursed her lips and looked down at their joined hands.
Bryce intervened, at least to spare Nesta from her mother's

increasingly tearful expression.
— The next time I go to fight intergalactic evil, I will try to consider
a scheme conducive to making friends.
Ember finally turned to Bryce, frowning.

— You and I are going to have a little chat when we get home,
Bryce Adelaide Quinlan. Leaving Cooper behind like that...
“I know,” Bryce replied.

She had a lot of explaining to do about that. And what to apologize for too.
“Your mother loves you,” Nesta said softly, reading the expression on
Bryce's face. — Don't underestimate this for a second.
All Bryce could do was tilt his head at Nesta.

- I am lucky. I was always lucky to have you as a mother,” she admitted.
Ember really looked like she was going to burst into tears at any moment.
moment, especially when he turned to Nesta again and said:
— This time here with you has been a gift, Nesta. In truth.
And then she pulled Nesta into a tight hug, and Bryce could have sworn
he saw something like pain and longing cross Nesta's expression. As if he
hadn't received a hug from his mother in a long time.
Then Bryce offered the female some privacy to enjoy every second of
that maternal hug and turned to where Randall and Cassian were, behind
them. The males had linked arms in a friendly manner.
— Thank you, friend — Randall said to the warrior — for everything.
Cassian cracked a smile, and, well, Bryce could understand why.

that Nesta had fallen for a male with that appearance.
— Perhaps we will meet again one day, under less… strange
circumstances.
— I hope so — Randall agreed and, as he passed by where Ember and
Nesta were hugging, he patted the faerie on the shoulder, which translated
into paternal affection.
Bryce felt his heart swell almost to the point of pain as Randall approached
Hunt and hugged him back. Hunt returned the hug, patting her father on the
back, until the two separated and walked through the portal together.
Ember finally moved away from Nesta, but placed her hand on her
The female's cheek gently and whispered: — You
will find your way.
Then he headed towards the portal.

Bryce could have sworn there were tears in Nesta's eyes when her mother
crossed back to Midgard.
But those tears were gone when Nesta met Bryce's gaze. And Cassian, like
any good partner, felt that his presence was not required, and went to the
fireplace to pretend to read some old manuscript. Bryce knew that, like any good
partner, if she made one wrong move, he would end Bryce's race. And that was
the exact reason Hunt returned to the room to watch Nesta closely.
— Asshole alphas — Nesta echoed, amused.

Bryce laughed and pulled out the Aster. Again, Cassian tensed, but Bryce
just extended the blade to Nesta. The female accepted the weapon, her face
expressionless.
“You said you had a tattoo of an eight-pointed star,” Bryce explained. — And
that he found the chamber with the eight-pointed star in the Prison too.
Nesta raised her head.

- And?
— And then I want you to stay with Aster. — Bryce touched the blade
between them. — Gwydion… or whatever they call it here. The Starry age is
over on Midgard. It ended with me.
- I didn't understand.
But Bryce began to walk back to the portal, holding Hunt's hand, and smiled
at the female again, at her partner, at their world, as the Northern Rift began to
close.
— I think they tattooed the eight-pointed star on you for a while.

reason. Keep the sword and discover this reason.
The Freighter of the Deep had anchored outside the dock because
the port closest to the Eternal City was too narrow to accommodate
the city ship. Beside Ruhn, Lidia watched her children wait on the
concrete pier as the transport capsule rose to the surface, water
dripping from the dome-shaped glass top.
When Renki and Davit were revealed, the two waved frantically
at the two boys next to Lidia.
To her children, who smiled at their parents, with Brann waving
back enthusiastically, Ace returning a shorter—but no less eager—
wave.
Ruhn placed his hand on Lidia's back, who leaned back into the
comforting, loving touch. Her partner. Yes, she was sure of that.
The capsule's glass top opened, and then Renki and Davit leapt
onto the pier gracefully, Brann and Ace running toward them...
The hugs that boys gave their parents. Tears of relief ran down
Renki's face, and Davit held the two boys as if he would never let go.
But he let go. He approached Lidia in two steps and hugged her too.
“Thank you,” said the male, his voice hoarse from the
tears. - Thanks.
Renki appeared the moment Davit walked away, hugging her
very tight too.
Lidia found herself smiling, even though her heart had started to hurt
again, and walked away to watch her children.
They both looked at her. Brann looked worried, but the
Ace's expression was more indecipherable. It was Brann who asked, "So
this is goodbye?"
Lidia looked at Renki and Davit, who nodded. They had spoken on the
phone the day before to coordinate that meeting… and what would come
next.
— Until things calm down a little here. On the surface, that is,” Lidia
replied.
Because, even the day after the annihilation of the asteri, it was already
going to shit. The depletion of the primalux network would be a huge
problem, but the Queen of the Ocean had supplied all the city ships and
the various capsules without primalux. With your own power. Perhaps the
ruler had some idea about how they could adapt the technology to work
without consuming primalux.
The Queen of the Ocean, of course, was not happy when Lidia sent a
message to the Freighter of the Deep. It was a succinct and efficient
message:
I believe that my services are no longer needed, and I therefore inform you of
my termination.
Thankful for your
compassion,
Lidia Cervos An hour later, the Queen of the Ocean had sent the answer
—again on a piece of seaweed.
I have more to worry about than your loyalty, Lidia Cervos. I accept
your termination, but don't be fooled into thinking that our paths won't cross
again. For now, you can live life on the Surface.
It was the best Lidia could hope for.
At that moment, Lidia looked from one son to the other and
added:
— But I want to see you again, if that's something you want too.
Brann nodded, and she was speechless as he came over and hugged
her.
The smell of her son, his warmth and his closeness almost made her
fall to her knees, but Lidia managed to stay standing, knowing that Ruhn
was by her side, that he would always be there, supporting her, when Brann
walked away, opening a smile.
— You're too brave — praised Brann and added: — Mom.
Even with her heart leaping with joy, Lidia dared to look over his
shoulder and saw Renki and Davit with smiles as wide as Brann's. Happy
for her… for all of them. Her children had a beautiful family, and maybe, if
everyone was cool with the idea, she could find a space there. Finding joy
in being part of it.
Brann leaned over and kissed Lidia on the cheek, and she knew she
would cherish that kiss for the rest of her existence. Then he went to Ruhn,
and Lidia could only watch as Brann hugged him in the same way, very
tightly.
“Thank you,” Brann said, “for what you were going to do. To save us…
and our mother.
Ruhn patted Brann on the back, and Lidia's chest filled with so much
light that she could barely hold it all inside.
- No problem. Just a normal day for us Aux soldiers,” Ruhn replied.
Brann smiled again, then returned to his parents,

hugging Renki once again.
Lidia looked at Ace, who was watching her warily. Knowing he wouldn't
run into her arms like Brann had, Lidia went to him. Slowly. Giving the boy
time to decide what he wanted to do.
Ace stood his ground, but there was no coldness in his eyes as he said:
— Thank you for picking us up. — The corner of his mouth moved
up. - He takes care of himself.
— I have Ruhn to cover me — Lidia replied, looking at the male. - I

will be fine.
“He shot you,” Ace countered, making a face at Ruhn.
"I shouldn't have told you that," Ruhn commented.

Lidia smiled a little, but turned to Ace again.
— He'll pay for this, don't worry.
Ace didn't seem so calm, staring at Ruhn for a moment, but as he
started to walk towards his parents, he stumbled,
as if…
Lidia glanced at Ruhn, who began to whistle innocently, looking up

at the sky. Nice... that he kept his own little secrets of speaking between
minds.
Ruhn put his arm around her waist as the boys and their parents
entered the capsule. Davit went to the pilot's seat, flipping a few switches,
and Brann took the seat next to him. Renki and Ace took the back seats,
and as the capsule hummed into operation, they all looked at Lidia.
She gave a small, hopeful smile. Her fingers

found Ruhn's and squeezed them tightly. Ruhn didn't let go.
Her children were alive and free and in her life again, and everything
this was more than she had ever dared to dream.
So whatever the future held… she would cherish every second of it.
***
Bryce was completely fed up with Nena's coldness when she opened
the Northern Rift again. Not to the Fae homeworld, but to Hell.
There was only darkness waiting for the army that marched across.
Creatures, flying things and princes, who came one by one, Thanatos
giving her a look that said Bryce may have destroyed the asteri, but that
he was still hurt by what had happened to his dog, until only Apollion
and Aidas were left. before her in the ice and snow.
They didn't need a coat, hat or gloves. They didn't even reach
shake.
—Hell does not have dominion over you, and you do not have
no obligation to us,” Apollion said to Hunt.
— Huh, thanks? replied Hunt. - I say the same.
Apollion gave him a half-smile, then looked at Bryce.
— You did better than I expected.
Bryce snapped his fingers, the sound muffled by his
gloves. — This is what I'm going to put on my new business cards: Bryce
Quinlan: better than expected.
Apollion just smiled and walked into the darkness.
“Hey,” Bryce called, behind the Moat Prince's back.
Apollion stopped and raised his eyebrow.
Bryce cracked a smile.
— Thank you for not giving up on Midgard.
She could have sworn she saw a grain of compassion cross his face.
Apollion before he looked at Aidas and said:
— I'll be happy to close the matter, and let my brother have peace.
And then he crossed the Rift.

Bryce was already chattering his teeth from the cold, but he looked at Aidas.
— Shall we see you again?
Aidas smiled a devilish smile.
- Do you want to see me?
“No,” Bryce said, seriously. — Although we are grateful… I think our
ideas of “pet” are different.
Aidas finally broke into a full smile.

“Then I'll just offer my gratitude, Bryce Quinlan, and say goodbye.
“I will forever be grateful,” said Bryce to the Prince of

Gorge — for his kindness that day at the Oracle.
His smile became gentler.
—Theia would be proud of you.
— And from you — Bryce replied, the only gift he could give to a Prince
of Hell. But she held back from
to say that Theia's pride didn't mean shit to her. — I think I might hear it
directly from her one day.
Aidas tilted his head. Bryce had told them all about the
that Jesiba had alleged. What he had seen in that land of sparkling light.
—Do you think a Prince of Hell will be allowed in?
Bryce walked over to him and kissed his cheek. The skin his lips
touched was icy.
— I think a good male, regardless of where he comes from, will always
be allowed in.
Aidas' eyes glowed a vivid blue…whether with gratitude, longing, or
love, she couldn't tell. But the prince only nodded at her, and then at Hunt,
then crossed the Northern Rift into the darkness.
Apollion was waiting inside and took the place next to his brother. Bryce
took Hunt's hand and raised the other in farewell.
To his surprise, the two princes returned the gesture.

With a ripple of thought and power, she closed the Rift.
He locked it tightly, leaving no gaps through which it was possible to cross.
Although the Asteri were dead, all of their Crystal Gates across Midgard
remained intact. But for now, at least that specific Gate was closed. Finally.
“Looks like your demon-hunting days are over,” she said to Hunt.
Her partner smiled and kissed her softly, and even the winds
Nena's cold eyes seemed to get hotter.
— I think I'll have to look for another job.
***
Tharion Ketos was on the edge of the Meat Market, looking for his wife.
Thanks to the water goblins in her service, Queen Viper had apparently
managed to extinguish the flames in the main building.
before the fire spread, leaving most of the Meat Market's interconnected
warehouses intact.
In fact, it seemed like business was business as usual… even if
still adjusted to a new world. From the bed of the truck, grim-looking
soldiers unloaded cylinders shining with primalux. Already stocking up
on a product that would soon be in high demand.
Tharion was not sure why he had come here, when Sendes had
informed him that the Queen of the Ocean had forgiven his
disobedience. In fact, she had made a very good offer to him, to
become a commander in her armed forces and work aboard the Deep
Freighter, but he had ended up responding that he would need to do
something first.
And then he came back there.
The world was a mess. The Asteri were dead, but there was an
Imperial Senate to deal with, archangels, several Heads of Houses,
and… maybe he should have stayed on that ship.
I didn't know why I expected peace and comfort, why I thought
everyone would be happy and just… good. But there were a lot of
stupid and ambitious people around the world, taking the opportunity
to use restructuring as a way to gain power.
And Tharion knew it was likely that the asshole who dominated the
Meat Market was among those people. He would have to face her at
some point, probably soon.
But right now he needed to find his wife, just to make sure she was
okay. Then he would follow his own path. Would he go to the Deep
Freighter, or do something else, he didn't know. He imagined that
Ogenas would guide him at some point, perhaps help him sort out the
mess that was his life.
Tharion lifted the hood of his sweatshirt, checking to see if the
weapon hidden at his side was safe and ready, and entered the
labyrinth of the Meat Market. Towards whatever Urd had in store for
him.
He had only walked a block when a female voice said from the
shadows:
— You must have joined the stupidity line many times to get back in there.
He stopped in place, peering into the alley where the voice had come from. Two
Crimson eyes burned amidst the darkness.
Tharion tilted his head.
— Hello, Ariadne.
Bryce stood in the lobby of the Autumn King's mansion, watching a bunch
of cameras go off, the haughty fae nobility and the guards with confused
expressions alternating glances between her and the crowd.
For the occasion, she had chosen a pink dress that she knew would
take Hunt's concentration away. It would be either that or leggings and a t-
shirt, and considering she wanted to avoid any distractions from what she
would actually do, the female had opted for something formal.
Of course, choosing the pink dress had been a torment. There was
currently a huge pile of clothes in her room that she would need to deal
with when she got home, which was an incentive to linger there a lot.
But she looked at the mocking faces of Sathia and Flynn's parents,
Lord and Lady Hawthorne, who had recently returned from Avallen, and
decided that waiting might be to hell. All the rest of the fae nobility who
had gathered there that morning at his invitation could be damned.
He had set foot in the city late at night the day before, gone to the
ruins of the Asphodel Meadows and called the meeting for the following
day.
She would have met the night before, but Hunt had advised her to take
time to decide what she wanted to say. To let Mac prepare
the paperwork.
At the moment, the leopard shifter and Declan were next to the
table that had been taken into the lobby, Ruhn and Flynn with them.
She looked at Hunt, and he nodded subtly. It was the moment.
Then Bryce went to the lectern and said to the cameras, to the fae
aristocrats: — I'll be brief and
succinct, just like the busy nobles here.
they can go back to their champagne lunches and spa days.
Silence, and a frantic noise from the cameras. The cameramen came
closer, positioning the microphones to capture even her breathing. One of
the guys, a draki male, was smiling.
But Bryce kept her gaze focused on the cameras, on the world listening
to her.
—This is my first and only decree as the Fae Queen of Valbara and
Avallen: the royal houses will be extinct. — She ignored the gasps and
complaints, and drummed her fingers on the paperwork on the table. — The
documents have already been issued. Let me be very transparent: I am not
abdicating either throne.
I am no longer queen, but with this document, no one will wear the crown
again. The fae monarchy is being abolished. Forever.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hunt crack a smile. She wanted
her mother to be there, but they had decided that Ember Quinlan's presence
might cause a lot of speculation about her human mother having pressured
her into making this decision.
— I will donate all of the Autumn King's residences in this city — Bryce
continued, gesturing to the elegant space around them — to house those
displaced by the attack on Asphodel Meadows. This specific mansion will
be used to house children who were orphaned after the massacre.
One of the fae nobles choked.

— And as for the residential properties elsewhere, in Valbara and
Avallen, they will be sold to anyone who can put up with the tacky-ass decor.
The profits will be used to rebuild the Asphodel Meadows.
Bryce picked up the gold fountain pen he had stolen from the Autumn
King's office after throwing all of his prisms in the trash. He planned to dismantle
the planetarium and sell it for scrap.
He knew enough about how light traveled and formed…how it could separate
and come together again. She never wanted to learn anything about light
again, not even her own.
“The Asteri died,” Bryce declared to the listening world, “and the fae
kingdoms died with them. Instead of them, we will build a government based
on equality and equity. This document grants me the right to represent the Fae
in the construction of such a government, nothing more.
“Traitor,” hissed one of the fae nobility who Bryce could have sworn had
mocked her in a restaurant years ago.
Bryce muttered to herself, twirling the King's beloved pen
Autumnal between your fingers.
— You shouldn't have granted royalty such absolute power in an attempt
to keep the rest of the people in the mud. — She leaned over the documents.
— Maybe then they could have stopped me from doing this.
The golden pen touched the paper, the ink marking the parchment.
“But now you're in the mud with the rest of us,” Bryce concluded for the fae
as he signed his name, “so you'd better get used to the smell.
So, with a flick of the Autumn King's golden pen, the

Royal fey bloodlines ceased to exist.
***
Ruhn turned on the lights in the apartment… for as long as the place still had
power.
— Bryce is going to throw a hissy fit, but I swear it was the only thing
furnished so last minute — he explained to Lidia as they entered the place that
was literally one floor below Bryce's.
Lidia smiled, analyzing the apartment, which was identical in configuration

to Bryce's, except for the furniture. She approached the
bright white kitchen. — It's

cute... seriously. I will send the money to your
account.
“Nothing like that,” replied Ruhn. — Consider a gift from

acknowledgment. For saving me from the dungeons.
Lidia turned to him, raising her eyebrows.
— I think we're even at this point. After all.
After that shit with Pollux, which he knew would haunt
your dreams for a long time.
But there would be joy to brighten the dark memories.
When he had accompanied her to take the boys back to their parents,
Ruhn had been happy to observe the happy reunion, especially
because Lidia had been embraced with the same warmth and love by
the boys' parents. And because the boys made it clear, each in their
own way, that Lidia would be welcome in their lives.
Ruhn was sure that with Brann it would be easier. But Ace…
Ruhn smiled to himself at the memory of how Ace had looked Ruhn
up and down before leaving, his dark, intelligent eyes. Sharp. As if to
say: Take care of my mother.
Ruhn had responded in the boy's mind: She can take care of herself, but
I'm going to help.
Ace's eyes widened in shock and he stumbled, but, with an
analytical and impressed look at Ruhn, he continued towards the
transport pod.
Ruhn and Lidia spent a night at his screwed-up house, desperate
to have sex until they couldn't anymore, but very aware of their friends
just a thin wall away, until he called a real estate agent and asked him
to find an apartment. Immediately. With very few requirements.
— That room over there has two beds — he explained, pointing to

the other side of the large room. — For your children.
Her eyes lit up as she took in the guest room.
That was the main demand Ruhn had made of the broker: find an
apartment with a guest room that had
two beds.
— They can visit whenever they both, and you, want.
Lidia smiled so softly and hopefully that Ruhn felt his heart sink, but
then the female went to the couch in front of the television and sat down,
as if she were testing him. Experiencing that apartment, that life.
— I think their parents will want to keep them around for a while after
what happened — Lidia replied — but yes... I would love for them to come
here sometimes.
Ruhn sat next to her on the couch.
— They're going to raise hell when they grow up.
— That's fine with me, as long as it's not literally. Lidia sighed. — I've
had my share of demons for a while, even the friendly ones.
Ruhn laughed.
- Mine too.
For a few minutes, the two sat there in silence.
comfortable, watching the apartment, their apartment.
— I can't believe we're alive — Lidia finally commented.
— I can't believe the asteri died.
The last few days had been a whirlwind of emotions, and he hadn't
assimilated everything that had happened. Or the current state of the
world.
— Your sister and Athalar's intentions are good, but it's going to take
a lot more than a meeting with a bunch of world leaders to establish an
entire new system of government. Or end slavery — Lidia said carefully.
- I know. Bryce knows.

— You… What do you plan to do?
It was a difficult question, but Ruhn replied: — I'll
help you. I'll lead the Aux with Holstrom, I think.
Considering that as of this morning there is no longer any faerie throne.
It had been incredible to witness the scene: Bryce in front of the throng
of cameras and nobles, ending monarchies with a scribble of a pen. Their
father's favorite pen, to boot.
Ruhn had never been so proud to be Bryce's brother.

He gave a slight smile.
—The Oracle was right in many ways, I think.
Lidia raised her eyebrow, and he continued: — Not
only that the crown would go to Bryce, but that it would put an end to everything.
The Danaan royal line is over.
Lidia made a little noise with her mouth.
—You're not dead or childless, after all.
“Not yet,” Ruhn confirmed, laughing again.
All that time he spent fearing the prophecy, worrying about his own
destiny...
Lidia looked at him, in a way no one else on Midgard did.
he looked… as if he saw him.
—But are you prepared to no longer be a prince? To be… normal?
— I think so — replied the male, giving her a little push with his knee. - And
you?
- I don't know. I don't even know what normal is — admitted Lidia.
Ruhn held her hand, intertwining their fingers.
— What if we figure this out together, then?
—How to be normal?
— How to live a normal life. A normal, adult apartment is a good start. For
us both.
Enough of living in a republic.
But caution took over her gaze.
- My life is complicated.
— Who said normal isn't complicated? — he replied. — I just know that
whatever tomorrow, next year or the next millennia have in store for this world,
I want to face it by your side.
Her expression softened. Lidia leaned in close, brushing aside a strand of

his hair with her hand.
The two were not the Doe and the Crown Prince of the Fae. It wasn't Day
and Night. There, at that moment, it was just Lidia and Ruhn. He wouldn't
change anything.
But Ruhn got up, went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. The
other requirement he had made to the broker: store a single thing in the
refrigerator.
Perhaps the republic would not be left aside completely. He returned to
the sofa and handed Lidia a beer.
“As promised, Day,” he said, opening the lid of his own
bottle. - One beer.
She looked down at her drink, and her face lit up. He took off the cap,
but stood up and tapped his bottle, toasting before drinking.
— To a normal life, Ruhn.

He leaned in to kiss her, and Lidia closed the distance. And the love and
joy in him shone brighter than starlight when Ruhn said with his lips pressed
to hers: — To a normal life, Lidia.
***
It would take a few days for the Lair wolves to return from where they were
hiding, but they were coming back, yes.
Ithan didn't know if it was on Amelie's orders or if Perry had asked, but
everyone was returning. Maybe just to see for himself what a shitty job the
new Primo would do at leading them.
Or to analyze the dynamics without the Fendyr.
Or to look for your own belongings before the power grid
primalux fell and chaos reigned.
Ithan was in the command center of Aux headquarters, with Flynn and
Dec on the other side, and the former was watching Perry with an interest
that Ithan didn't like.
Perry was blushing, and Ithan didn't like it either.
But Ruhn and Lidia walked in before Ithan could say anything.
stupid, and the former fae prince declared:
— So, before anything else: I think it's shit
this thing about saving the world and having to go back to work two days later.
Perry laughed, and… okay, maybe Ithan liked the sound of it.
But Lidia said, in a serious but calm voice:
— I'm expecting an announcement tonight regarding the status of Primalux's

power grid and how we can prevent it from going down.
Lunathion's engineers are meeting with the Ocean Queen to find out how she makes
the ships work without it, and they'll let us know what they find out, but in the
meantime, we need to start taking stock of allies inside and outside of Lunathion. city.
Celestina is still dealing with Ephraim, trying to get his support, but the other
archangels will start to compete for power. If we don't want to return to old habits, we
need a solid plan.
— Shouldn't Athalar be present to discuss this? asked Flynn.
- He is coming. With Bryce, but they told us to start without

them,” revealed Ruhn.
Dec and Flynn started blowing loud kisses at each other in mockery, and Ithan
and Perry laughed.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Not the part about being a Cousin, that he didn't
really like, but the part about creating a new future.
It would probably be pure desperation for a while, and they would have enemies to
give and sell, but…
They would also have each other. A pack. From all the Houses.
Which was why they were there. No segregated Aux members, divided between
Houses and species. They would set an example in leadership. From that day on.
Then Ithan said to Lidia, Ruhn, Flynn, Dec, and Perry,

“Whatever these assholes want to throw at us,
let's fight back in kind.
— He spoke like a true soccer captain — Dec teased.
— Yes — Ithan confirmed, letting the word sink in, and for a moment he felt…
the urge to step onto the field, to catch the ball. A flash and it was gone, but… after
years of nothing, he felt it. And wanted. Then Ithan smiled and added: — I am.
***
“It was Hypaxia on the phone,” Bryce announced, in the sunny, open atrium
of the elegant house that would soon be the new Griffin Antique Shop.
Hunt, who was taking a statue of Thurr out of a box, asked over his
winged shoulder, “What did
she say?”
— If we manage to find a way to stabilize the antidote, we can distribute
it to everyone by the Spring Equinox.
In other words: if we still have energy at that point. She wants more of your
lightning, by the way. This shipment of antidotes has already ended.
Bryce and Hunt had taken the dose. The resulting burst of magic had
been intense to the point that, it seemed, an entire new island had formed
on Avallen… as if it were now tied to her very soul. As if she and Midgard
were, as Jesiba had claimed, linked, Archesian amulet or not.
And because of Hunt, there was a day full of storms.

Of course, he was fined by the city for improper and illegal manipulation of
the weather, but the justification that Bryce had given about “it being a climax
of magic” did not convince the authorities.
It would take some time for them to get used to the new power in their
veins, as if returned from what the Asteri had extracted. They would need
new training too. Bryce could teleport in one jump between the city and his
parents' house. Which was… good and bad.
Good because she could see Cooper whenever she wanted, and steal
him out of town for some real fun. Bad because her parents expected her
and Hunt to go there for dinner every week. Bryce had negotiated the
meeting to once a month, but she knew Ember would put pressure on her to
go at least once every two weeks.
But it all depended on what they would do next… whether the primalux
electrical network would hold the line. If it would fall. If they had to start over,
crouched around fires in the dark. But she — they — would carry on as
always. May the geniuses and scientists find a way to save them that time.
“Well,” muttered Hunt, “if Hypaxia needs someone

to beat up the Redners, I'm in. They are bizarre.
The former witch-queen had reluctantly allied herself with the

Redner Industries, in an attempt to mass-produce the antidote.
— Scary Asshole, Part Two?
- With pleasure.
He turned to where Bryce kept books on the huge cabinet.
built in behind her desk.
The books. The Parthos collection. No longer in the dark or hidden, but
there, in daylight, for anyone to access. She couldn't bear to keep them locked
up.
Luckily, she had found three new employees to help her manage the
difficult collection. Sasa, Rithi and Malana were hunched over a takeout
package, watching an episode of Love in the Dark on Hunt's cell phone, which
he had propped up on a water bottle.
They would never replace Lehabah, but Bryce was happy to see them. For
hearing Syrinx, snoring under the new table, in the little nest of blankets she
had made there. It was as if something finally fell into place. As if she knew
where she was supposed to be.
“So,” muttered Hunt, returning to emptying the boxes Hypaxia had sent
from the House of Flame and Shadow.
Apparently, Jesiba had been waiting for that transfer of
property…had made Ithan pack up most of the artifacts.
Bryce thought Jesiba would like the Godslayer Rifle fixed behind the desk.
Both as a warning to anyone who tried to steal the books and in honor of the
priestess who had kept them for so long. That is, if the fire goblins didn't roast
the would-be thief first.
She didn't know where Irithys had gone, and she still wanted to talk to the
queen, tell her about Lehabah, but from what Sasa had said, it seemed that
the Goblin Queen was traveling the world, intending to free all of her people.
Mainly those who were still being held by masters averse to the new global
ban on slavery.
— So... what's up? — Bryce asked Hunt, placing a

pile on the shelf.
“So… are you going to say something about the whole down-with-the-
Fae-Monarchy thing?”
—What has to be said? I issued the decree. He finished. It's not my
problem anymore,” Bryce asked.
— Maybe not everyone sees it that way. — That's why,
Athalar... — she began, putting away another book that tried to escape
from her hands. He pulled the copy back and stuck it on the shelf. — That's
why we're going to structure a faerie democracy. A senate, all that shit. That
way the fae can go and complain to them about their problems.
—A senate and all that shit, huh? — Hunt repeated. — It looks very
official.
She turned to the male.
a and the whole thing
- And you? Why can you say goodbye to 33
angels, but I, by chance, can't get rid of the faerie drama?
— It wasn't me who made magical islands sprout from the ocean and
I resurrected an entire territory.
“Well, Avallen is different,” she replied, sniffling.
“You just don't want to give up your summer home,” he teased, crossing
the room to Bryce.
She let him corner her against the bookshelf, loving it.
size, strength and wall of power that was pure Hunt.
— Maybe he doesn't really want to — replied the female, without shying
away. — But until the fae prove to me that they will share Avallen with
everyone, she is mine. — Bryce had considered sending Parthos's books
there, to the Avallen Archives, but she had wanted them nearby. I wanted
them to be accessible to everyone, not locked away on a remote island. —
Or, at least, it's my responsibility — he amended. — Yeah, well, Baxian is
thirsty to get off the island and get back
to
civilization, then you might need to hire a caretaker.
Fury and June had already returned to Crescent Moon City. Apparently
her friends had reached their limits when it came to living medieval style,
but Baxian had stayed.
She grimaced. The angel had been keeping the fae in line since she
and Hunt left Avallen in his hands, taking good care of any refugees who
arrived there. Danika would have been proud. Bryce had made sure to tell
the Hellhound that… and he had made sure to tell him about seeing his
partner in the afterlife. He had been silent for a long time on the call, making
her realize he was crying, but all he had said to Bryce was "thank you."
— Beauty, beauty. — Bryce turned to Hunt. — Structuring a democracy,

finding a new nanny for Avallen, playing Scary Asshole with you… Anything
else? Besides me starting a new business?
She gestured to the gallery that would soon be open to the public.
— How about hiring a sexy assistant?
The warmth, the spark in his eyes did not go unnoticed.
Bryce bit his lip.
— Sexy assistant, huh? And is it okay for you to go from Umbra Mortis to
coffee boy for me?
— If among the benefits is the bonus of having really naughty sex
in the office, that's fine with me,” Hunt grunted and nibbled on her ear.
— Oh, the position certainly comes with the benefit of some pretty
naughty sex in the office — she assured, almost purring.
She felt his hard cock pressing against her hip before he
say, in a low and mischievous voice:
— Goblins… go find another place to stay for a while.
They grumbled, but hurried to the stairs, all blushing a deep pink. Syrinx
followed, barking.
Bryce didn't care where they were going. Not when
Hunt pressed his cock into her core, and she squirmed.
— Get on the table — he said, his voice thick.
Her blood quickened.
— We're already late for the meeting with Ruhn and the others at Aux.
“They're going to be fine. —His voice was pure, relentless sex.

Bryce's knees wobbled.

She had only taken a step towards the table when her cell phone rang.
Baxian.
“Come back later,” Hunt instructed, positioning himself behind her.
Then he ran his hands up the female's thighs, lifting her skirt.
Yes… fuck yes.
Hunt's cell phone rang. Baxian again.
“Maybe we should… answer it,” Bryce suggested, although he barely
managed to speak, considering Hunt was holding her skirt with one hand and
her ass with the other…
Hunt grunted and reached for his cell phone, answering it irritably: —
What's
wrong?
With his fae ears, Bryce could hear perfectly when Baxian asked: —
Where's your partner?
It was the subtle tone of panic and urgency in the voice that made Hunt put
the phone on speaker and say:
— We're both here.
Baxian sighed shakily, and Bryce's arousal vanished, dread chilling his
insides. If something had already happened, an attack on Avallen...
— I… — Baxian choked on the word. —There are about twenty of them.
Bryce exchanged a confused look with Hunt and asked,

“Them?”
Baxian gave a laugh that was almost hysterical.
— I swear, it's as if they sprouted from the earth, as if they were
hibernating or hiding here, I don’t know, holy shit…
“Baxian,” Bryce said, his heart pounding. - What happened?
— Flying horses. Horses with wings.

Bryce didn't react.
— Horses… with wings.
— Yes — Baxian confirmed, raising his voice. — They're flying around,
trampling everything and eating all the crops, and I think maybe
you need to come here because it looks like the kind of thing that might belong
in Super Magical Chic Starry Princess...
Bryce looked at Hunt, admiration washing over her.
“There are flying horses in Avallen,” Hunt muttered, his hands
eyes as wide with joy as hers.
— In Silene's story — Bryce whispered — she told about her mother
having flying horses. And that some came here... and there were
representations of them in the Cave of the Princes and in the castle of Morven.
I thought they killed everyone, but maybe…” She shook her head. - It is
possible?
Had Helena somehow kept everyone alive, dormant, waiting until it was
safe again?
She didn't care. Not at that moment.
“There are flying horses in Avallen,” she repeated to Hunt. —
There are pegasi in Avallen.
— Please come and help — asked Baxian, begging.
— We'll arrive at dawn — assured Bryce and ended the call. She met her
partner's burning gaze. No shadows, no halo, no pain. Never. — Is sex in the
office coming next?
— For a Cold Jelly in the flesh? Hunt smiled. —

Anything.
Bryce hugged him around the neck, kissing him passionately, then
he bolted for the door.
There was an angel in his office, and a horde of pegasi in Avallen. And
the Asteri had been exterminated and the dead freed…
And although he knew there was work to be done to heal Midgard, the world
was there. Life was there.
So Bryce and Hunt ran off to live.
Together.
Thanks
Even after so many books, I still wake up every day grateful for the
incredible people I have the honor of meeting and working with. With
this in mind, my love and deep gratitude:
To the magnificent worldwide team at Bloomsbury: Noa Wheeler
(whose editorial genius is unprecedented!), Nigel Newton, Kathleen
Farrar, Adrienne Vaughan, Ian Hudson, Rebecca McNally, Valentina
Rice, Erica Barmash, Angela Craft, Nicola Hill, Amanda Shipp, Marie
Coolman, Lauren Ollerhead, Rebecca McGlynn, Grace McNamee,
Eleanor Willis, Katie Ager, Ben McCluskey, Holly Minter, Sam Payne,
Donna Mark, David Mann, John Candell, Donna Gauthier, Laura
Phillips, Jaclyn Sassa, Britt Hopkins, Claire Henry , Michael Young,
Nicholas Church, Brigid Nelson, Sarah McLean, Sarah Knight, Joe
Roche, Fabia Ma, Sally Wilks, Inês Figueira, Jack Birch, Fliss
Stevens, Claire Barker, Cristina Cappelluto, Genevieve Nelsson,
Adam Kirkman, Jennifer Gonzalez, Laura Pennock, Elizabeth Tzetzo,
Valerie Esposito and Meenakshi Singh. To Kaitlin
Severini, for preparing the manuscript, and Andrea Modica and
Hannah Bowe for reviewing. To Elizabeth Evans for the fantastic
audio adaptations, and to Carlos Quevedo for the stunning cover art.
To the brilliant and brave team at the Writers House agency:

Robin Rue (wonderful agent and amazing friend), Beth Miller, Cecilia
de la Campa, Maja Nikolic, Kate Boggs, Maria Aughavin, Albert
Araneo, Sydnee Harlan, Alessandra Birch, Sofia Bolido, Angelamarie
Malkoun, Melissa Vasquez, Rosie Acacia, Lisa Castiglione and
Angela Kafka.
To the spectacular team from Frankfurt Kurnit Klein & Selz: Maura
Wogan, Victoria Cook, Kimberly Maynard, Louise Decoppet, Mark
Merriman, Michael Ling, Michael Williams, Gregory Boyd, Edward
Rosenthal, Molly Rothschild, Amanda Barkin and Nicole Bergstrom. To

Jill Gillet for her wisdom and guidance.
To my sister, Jenn, who inspires me daily, and to my dear friends
who always make me smile: Julie, Megan, Katie, Steph, and Lynette. To
Laura and Louise, whose emails always brighten my
is.
To Ana, who takes such good care of my babies, thus enabling me
to write these books.
To Josh, Taran, Sloane, and Annie: You are the greatest gifts in my
life, and I love you more than words can express.
And to the readers who make all this possible: thank you for everything.
Next, an unpublished story after the events of
HOUSE OF FLAME AND SHADOW

RUHN IS LYDIA
The modern art gallery on Rua do Arqueiro was empty, except for the arrogant
draki receptionist who had opened the glass doors for them. Bryce had
recommended the place, and as Ruhn and Lidia looked through the many
paintings of bug-eyed cats and statues of rotting banana peels, he couldn't
help but wonder if his sister had used this opportunity to mess with him.
— That's... — Lidia walked towards a painting in which a dog

took the owner for a walk — art?
Ruhn grumbled.
— Apparently.
Across the immaculate gallery, the receptionist sniffed but didn't look up
from his computer. Would the asshole have let them in if he hadn't recognized
them? It was impossible to go anywhere in the city, on the continent, on the
fucking planet without being recognized. There would be no way, after the
events of the previous month.
Life wasn't back to normal yet, not really, but

that night was Ruhn's attempt to make it happen again.
— Do you swear you want to hang one of those things in the living room?
— Lidia pointed to one of the paintings in which one of the bug-eyed cats was
sitting on top of a trash can, a mouse dangling from its mouth.
- Did not like?

She frowned.
— I don't really know what kind of art I like, but it's certainly not that one.
He thought carefully about her words.

— Don't you know what kind of art you like?
She shook her head, her long golden hair flowing with the
movement. She no longer wore the bun. He had spent hours with his
hands in the silky strands of her hair, learning what made her
voluptuous body literally burn with desire.
— I was educated to appreciate only classical and imperial art,
as would be appropriate for a female of my bloodline.
He shuddered. He thought his own childhood had been oppressive,
but at least his father, as much of a piece of shit as he was, hadn't
cut Ruhn's interests short.
— So no teenage years with a room full of band posters?
She laughed, crossing her arms as she walked to the next

painting. The jeans highlighted her wonderful ass, and the tight black
cashmere sweater left little to the imagination when it came to those
breasts he couldn't stop touching. To try.
He couldn't get enough of her. Even after the last few weeks of
living together, working together almost every day at Aux... I couldn't
stop wanting her, needing her. But it wasn't just his body. It was Lidia
herself — so insightful, with her dry humor, so courageous, selfless
and empathetic.
It didn't matter how much Flynn and Dec teased him. He was
shamelessly, relentlessly in love with this female. Your partner.
— I never had the chance — said Lidia while analyzing the next
cat painting — to express myself through art. Not even the decoration.
Ruhn looked at the huge black and white painting of a cat

spewing out a planet that resembled Midgard.
— If you want, you can take the apartment and paint it black and
put up band posters. I will not object. But if you hang one of those
horrible things, then we have a problem.
Lidia laughed, turning to him. Gods, she was beautiful. Even more
so wearing everyday clothes, without reminding her of Corça at all.
Everything inside him was turning with fire, and by the way his eyes
Her golden eyes warmed, Lidia seemed to know what he was thinking. But
she said:
— I had some rooms on my father's property. It never crossed my mind,
not even when I was a child, to make the space mine in any way. The rooms
belonged to my father. They had to look the way he wanted, just as I also had
to look the way he wanted.
The heat in his eyes cooled and Ruhn approached, placing the
arm around her waist.
— And when you made Ophion crush him, he finally became the way you
wanted.
She choked.
— It's not funny at all.
Ruhn pressed a kiss to her forehead, inhaling her tempting scent.
- You laughed. Admit it: that sound was laughter.
She pushed him with her hips.
— You are a terrible influence.
— That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said about me.
Lidia walked away, and for a moment Ruhn allowed himself to admire her.
Your partner. Your brave, lovely, brilliant partner.
Somehow, they had managed it. Somehow, they were in this strange
gallery, buying art for their apartment. They were there, doing something
mundane together, and the asteri were dead. Pollux was dead. Mordoc was
dead.
His father was dead.
And Ruhn was no longer Crown Prince Ruhn, just Ruhn Danaan. Well, in
theory, he was now Commander Danaan of the Crescent City Aux, but he
only liked to use that card when the Aux foot soldiers were very responsive.
It was strange that life was normal and at the same time... not. How long
would this gallery last? Or the streetlights outside?
What about cars stuck in traffic? Or the cell phone ringing in your pocket...
Ruhn looked away from Lidia, realizing that he had been getting lost in
her eyes, and picked up his cell phone.
It was Flynn, who, in theory, was on duty at that moment. Ruhn's
instructions were for the asshole not to bother him in
your night off, under no circumstances. None.

So Ruhn answered dryly: — What
happened?
— There was, um... a problem.
Ruhn gripped the cell phone so tightly that the plastic creaked.
—Rigelus back from the dead?
- No.
—Then leave me alone. Ruhn hung up.
— You didn't want to know what it was?
Ruhn placed his hand on her lower back, guiding her to the next piece of
art. And okay, maybe his hand slid a little lower. Until the beginning of the
delicious curve of her ass.
Maybe she arched her back a little. As if he remembered how devoted he

had been to that spectacular ass the night before...
His cell phone rang again. This time it was Dec.

Ruhn gave a guttural growl and replied: —What
happened?
— I think it would be really good for you to take a look here.
— Call Athalar.
— Athalar is on the Freighter of the Deep with his sister and the Ocean
Queen. You are closer.
— And it's my night off...
— We're in the east night garden in CiRo. Come soon. — Dec hung up.
Ruhn let out a long sigh. Lidia's eyebrows

they lifted, a discreet smile gracing their full mouth.
“My plan for tonight was to take you art shopping,” he explained, “and go
out to a fancy dinner. Afterwards, we would have sex for ten hours straight.
— She laughed, a sound full of joy, of life. Then Ruhn wrapped her around
her waist, kissing that beautiful, smiling mouth once, twice. - Stick for the
next?
She returned the kiss.
— As long as we can have sex for at least two hours straight, I'm
good.
It was Ruhn's turn to laugh, and as he led them toward the glass
door, leaving the horrible cat art behind, he knew that it didn't matter
what he did during the night as long as Lidia was by his side.
***
The traffic was so bad that they decided to walk to Cinco Rosas instead
of spending an hour in a taxi.
— I'm shocked at these people using their cars now — Lidia
murmured as they passed yet another crowded avenue. — Waste of
primalux.
— They must be the Primalux Zero deniers.
There was a growing group of people who refused to believe that
primalux would end at some point.
They believed it was all just a huge government conspiracy led by a
cabal of nefarious people, including Ruhn and Lidia, to switch to a
different energy source that they had a commercial stake in and could
profit from.
It was a collective delirium, a complete joke. And yet, many people

believed, even denying the extremely real possibility that the end would
come, a fucking Primalux Zero energy measurement. They now had
finite resources, and if they didn't stop spending and started conserving,
they would reach Primalux Zero much faster than the experts had
calculated.
Traffic slowed down a bit in CiRo, mostly because the Fae had
instituted so many zoning laws and regulations against low-cost
restaurants, bars, and hotels that there wasn't much to attract tourists
and unwanted people to their prosperous paradise of mansions and
private homes after the sunset. A problem Ruhn promised himself he
would solve later; once they discovered the best way to prevent the
entire
technology was lost and they had to go back to reading by candlelight and
cooking by fireplaces.
Lidia slipped her slender hand into his as they reached a quiet block
surrounded by houses, the olive trees whispering in the cool autumn night.
“I've been thinking,” she commented, softly enough to

let him know that whatever he was going to say, he was serious.
- Oh yes? — He squeezed her hand, a warning that he was paying
attention.
Lidia stopped at the end of the street, a block away from the night garden.
The golden light from the streetlights sparkled in her hair as she brought her
other hand to his face. Ruhn closed his eyes, savoring her light touch. Lidia
said: — You are so... beautiful.
Ruhn opened his eyes, laughing.

— Is that what you were thinking?
Joy shone in her eyes.
— No. I mean, yes. I was thinking about something else, but then I looked
at you... and... — She stood on tiptoe and kissed him, nibbling on his new lip
piercing, pulling lightly. Taunting.
Before he could grab her to explore her mouth better, Lidia pulled away,
running her fingers over the shaved side of his head.
— Before you distracted me with all this. — She ran her fingers over the
tattoos that ran up his neck.
Ruhn smiled. He had gotten some tattoos again—mostly new designs, but
he had also asked for some of the old ones to be recreated. The skin on one
of his hands was still a lighter shade compared to the other — a subtle
reminder of everything he had been through in the Asteri dungeons.
Lidia's hand stopped on the side of his neck. There was so much love, so
much joy and hope in her eyes that he could barely breathe. She smiled again,
as if she could feel it too. He looked at their joined hands.
— I was thinking... that I wanted to marry you.

He felt the ground disappear beneath his feet. The stars seemed to shine
more brightly, closer. Were his knees shaking?
Lidia started to laugh.

- Your face! Ruhn... what does that mean?
- Do you want to marry me? — The words caught in his throat, choked.
She looked down for a moment, as if unsure.

- Do you want to marry me?
He blinked.
— Fuck, are you serious?
She frowned at him.
— Yes. I mean, we're partners, I thought it might be...
Ruhn gave her a long kiss.
— I want to marry you — he said between kisses, nibbling her lips. — I
want you to marry me. More than anything.
She laughed again, and he took in the sound as he kissed her hard.
more intensity, for longer.
She wanted to marry him. She loved him enough to make their situation
permanent, to be more than partners. So that... they could become a family.
His eyes were full of tears. He had never realized how much he wanted a
family. Yes, Bryce was his sister and he had his mother, but somehow it
wasn't the same as what he and Lidia were about to start. It didn't matter if
they had children or if her children were enough; he and Lidia would be family.
She stepped back, analyzing his face, noticing the tears that were forming.
He gave one of them a kiss.
— I love you, you know?
Ruhn cupped her face gently with his hands.
- Are you sure? Do you want a marriage with everything it deserves?
There was amusement in her expression.

— I don't think I want a big, fancy wedding, but...
a small party with our friends, perhaps?
- Whatever you want. I do not care. I mean... not that I don't care,
but I'll accept anything, as long as we get married on paper and
everything.
She smiled and held his hand again, leading him back.
to one of the paths.
“Good thing,” she said after a minute, as the sweet scent of
nighttime jasmine greeted them and the bioluminescent garden glowed
just a few steps away.
- Why? — They crossed the silent street, the smooth cobblestones
stained green and blue by the light of the bright plants and flowers.
He was so busy trying to read her expression that he only turned

around when she pointed to the garden. To where Flynn and Dec
stood in suits, Bryce and Hunt smiling with them.
— Because I thought we could get married now.
***
It was the most romantic, insane thing Ruhn had ever done—and he
hadn't even planned it.
It was all Lidia's work: Flynn and Dec lured him there on her
instructions, with the vague information that they had a “problem”.
Without wanting to spend any extra primalux, Lidia chose the night
garden as a natural source of lighting. She asked Bryce and Athalar,
who had pretended to be summoned by the Ocean Queen, to stay
there all afternoon and evening, setting the long table under a huge
lunar magnolia tree. Ithan, Tharion and Isaiah smiled at him. Along
with Hypaxia and Brann and Actaeon, and...
It was at that moment that Ruhn began to cry. I hadn't noticed who
else was sitting there; All he knew was that everyone was there to
celebrate him — and Lidia.
Ruhn and Lidia's wedding was officiated by a black-robed High
Priestess of Cthona beneath the lunar magnolia, the large flowers
shining as brightly as the celestial orb after which they were named.
He didn't need time to think, or prepare, or question. Nothing ever felt more
right. It didn't matter that they were both dressed casually, or that Ruhn hadn't
showered since the day before.
All that mattered was that Lidia was there with him under the lunar magnolia,
holding his hand, Ruhn slipping the titanium ring—which she had provided herself,
of course—on her finger.
Titanium, the strongest of the wedding metals. Which symbolized the

unbreakable nature of a couple's bond. After everything they had been through,
Ruhn suspected that a new type of metal would have to be invented to incorporate
the strength of the bond between them, but he would accept titanium for now.
And as Lidia placed a similar titanium ring on Ruhn's finger, he wondered if

they, too, would need to invent a new word for love, to represent what was
overflowing from his heart.
***
"So that whole joke you came up with about going to the Deep Freighter," Ruhn
said to Bryce later, as they sat at one end of the long table, drinking sparkling
wine courtesy of the Autumn King's dwindling supply, and had boasted. the sister
— was it just to cover everything up?
Bryce, wearing a tight red dress that Ruhn had caught Athalar drooling over
at least twice, took a sip of the bubbly in her glass.
— Ah, we went to the Freighter of the Deep. — She pointed her thumb over
her shoulder, to where Lidia was with Brann and Ace, a few seats away. — We
went to look for them both. I think I could start a new company: Magical Starry
Princess Grumpy Teen Transportation Services.
Ruhn laughed.
— Where are Renki and Davit?
Bryce smiled.
— Lidia also invited the two of them, but they thought this would be a
good time for the boys to travel alone. Let's take them both back tomorrow
morning.
Ruhn watched his partner, his wife, talking to the
children. The discreet, exultant happiness that radiated from her.
Whether she had introduced her children to Hypaxia—their aunt —,
Ruhn had not seen it. The new Master of the House of Flame and Shadow
had already left, no doubt to deal with yet another crisis in the House or in
the city.
“The boys are staying with us,” Bryce added, “so they don't have to listen
to you and Lidia being naughty all night.
Ruhn made a face at his sister.

“Thanks, I guess?”
But he really couldn't have asked for anything better. The boys would be
one floor away from them — and that's okay, they wouldn't be using the
guest room that Lidia had already decorated for them, but there would be
time for that.
Then Ruhn added, with a warm smile: — Thank you,
really.
Bryce gave him a kiss on the cheek.
—Anything for my big brother. — She gestured towards Lidia. — I'm
happy for you... too happy, Ruhn.
— I'm happy for us too. — Brann said something that made Lidia
let out a laugh. Even Ace gave a small smile.
Ruhn looked at his sister, her eyes glowing silver.
— Don't you dare cry — he warned — or I'll cry too.
Bryce pulled him towards him and hugged him tightly.

— You deserve to be happy, Ruhn — she said hoarsely. — More than
anyone I know.
He just returned the hug, letting that grip
convey everything that was in his heart.
***
Ruhn found himself going from friend to friend over the next hour, losing sight of his wife for
a good while. When he finally got tired of being away from her, he found Lidia talking quietly
to Naomi Boreas.
— Are you talking about work? — asked Ruhn, sliding an arm around Lidia's shoulders.
— At our wedding?
Serious?
Naomi rolled her eyes.
— And what should we talk about? Our hair and nails?
Ruhn didn't dare answer the question, so he just smiled his most charming smile.
Naomi gave Lidia a wink before leaving. They had become good friends over the last few
weeks, and Ruhn was happy about that. She knew that Bryce was trying to get the two of
them — and Hypaxia — to join her, Fury and Juniper in some kind of group for Badass
Females, but the difficulty of fitting in their schedules and the need to solve constant
problems was getting in the way. But may the gods help everyone else when they finally
put them into practice.
Ruhn pulled Lidia a few feet deeper into the garden, the night crocuses glowing like a
deep amethyst at her feet.
— Lidia, I don’t even have words to express what happened that night. What is being.
What it meant to me.
Her discreet smile was incredibly beautiful.
— I was so afraid you'd say no.
— Deny me to marry you? Really?
She shrugged.
— I was hoping you'd say yes, but you have so many tattoos and that lip ring, and...
He laughed.
—And does that mean I'm against marriage?

— You are unconventional. I was worried about the
possibility that marriage was too normal for you.
— What made you change your mind?
- Your sister. She told me that if I asked you to marry me, you would
cry like a little child and say yes. Lidia tilted her head. —And that's what
you did.
Ruhn glanced over her shoulder at Bryce, now sitting on Athalar's lap
and chatting excitedly with Fury and June.
— She knows me well, huh?
When he looked at Lidia, she was smiling again.
- This is music?
As if on cue, a trio of musicians appeared near the end of the table.
Real musicians, to avoid using the primalux of your speakers or your cell
phones. And when they started playing a slow, soft song...
— Dance with me, Ruhn.

He gaped at his wife.
— You really thought of everything, down to the last detail.
She brushed invisible dust off her shoulders.
— I planned the entire attack on the Spine... a wedding was small in
comparison. — But she lowered her hand to take his.
— I didn't get to dance with you in the garden during the Autumn Equinox.
Consider this my apology for dumping you.
Ruhn kissed her gently, softly.

— I think you really owe me that.
She linked her arms around his neck, and as their bodies aligned, as
they gave in to the melody, everything else disappeared.
“I'm very grateful,” Ruhn said, seeing her and only her. — I am
very grateful that Cormac gave me that crystal-com.
“Well, he blackmailed you until you accepted,” she replied.
dryly.
- True. — But Ruhn still offered a prayer of thanks to the late prince of
Avallen, wherever his soul now resided. With luck, he would finally be
reunited with Sofie Renast.
— I'm grateful too — Lidia added in a low voice. — For everything, the
good things and the bad. Because they brought me to you.
They brought us here... to this moment.

There was nothing more to say, not after that. Then Ruhn hugged
her tighter and they danced in peaceful, blissful silence under the
lunar magnolia, the distant stars twinkling in the sky.
The future was still so uncertain — he knew there were still many
difficult times to come. But there, at that moment, with Lidia in his
arms, surrounded by friends...
At that moment, for the first time in my life, everything was perfect.
This e-book was developed in ePub format by Distribuidora Record de Serviços de

Imprensa SA
House of flame and shadow
Author's official
website: https://sarahjmaas.com/
Author's Instagram:
https://www.instagram.com/therealsjmaas/?hl=pt-br
Author's page on Wikipedia:

https://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sarah_J._Maas
Book page on Skoob:

https://www.skoob.com.br/livro/122381676ED122389892
Book page on Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/52857700-house-of-flame-and-shadow
Author page on Skoob:

https://www.skoob.com.br/autor/8285-sarah-j-maas
Author page on Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3433047.Sarah_J_Maas
Table of Contents
1. Cover
2. Works by the author published by Galera Record 3.
Face 4.
Credits 5.
Dedication 6.
Summary
7. The four houses of Midgard 8.
Prologue
9. PART I – THE DESCENT
1.
1 2.
2 3.
3 4.
4 5.
5 6.
6 7.
7 8.
8 9.
9 10.
10
11. 11
12. 12
13. 13
14. 14
15. 15
16. 16
17. 17
18. 18
19. 19
20 .
20 21.
21 22. 22 23. 23
24. 24
25. 25
26. 26
27. 27
10. PART II – THE SEARCH 1.
28 2.
29 3.
30 4.
31 5.
32 6.
33 7.
34 8.
35 9.
36
10. 37
11 38
12. 39
13. 40
14. 41
15. 42
16. 43
17. 44
18. 45
19. 46
20. 47
21. 48
22. 49
23. 50
24. 51
25. 52
26. 53
27. 54
_ 28.
55 29.
56 30.
57 31. 58
32. 59
33. 60
34. 61
35. 62
36. 63
37. 64
11. PART III – THE ASCENSION
1. 65
2. 66
3. 67
4. 68
5. 69
6. 70
7. 71
8. 72
9 73
10. 74
11. 75
12. 76
13. 77
14. 78
15. 79
16. 80
17. 81
18. 82
19. 83
20. 84
21. 85
22. 86
23. 87
24. 88
25. 89
_ 26.
90 27.
91 28.
92 29. 93
30.94
31.95
32.96
33.97
34.98
___
___
___
___
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ 15.
Find out more
Yes, Margaret, the War in Israel is Fake
they all were
by Miles Mathis
First published October 7, 2023
Well, we knew they were going to start another war, and the timing of this one is perfect. Just as
Congress stops funding Ukraine, Hamas conveniently flies into Jerusalem on motorized kites. . .
because, you know, why not? The Gentiles will believe anything. They could have reported that
Hamas rode in on tricycles and no one would have questioned it. Or if anyone did question it, Google
would block them. That's what will happen to this paper. In the first minutes it will go to number one
and then it will be magically delisted, just like all my other papers.
[Added October 9: If you think I am delusional, I can prove it. Google did exactly that, and we know
they censored it because the other search engines didn't.
I am listed #9 on page one at Bing for the general search Israel War Fake, with no quotes and no
mention of me. I picked that search because it is a general search many would use and it is not a direct
quote from my title. So it is not skewed to my paper. And if we check page two we find I am
outranking MSN at #12. So I am beating MSN at Bing! Also outranking NBC, Yahoo News, AP,
CNN, Wikipedia, and the BBC. I am ranked #16 at Duck and #19 at Yahoo. At Yandex this paper
ranks #1.
[October 10: Bing was so embarrassed by my outranking of MSN, they immediately removed my
listing. Which is censorship. Which is of course illegal. These major search engines are not allowed
to simply remove results they don't like. We know my paper didn't fall off the charts overnight, since it
retained its rankings at Yahoo, Duck, and Yandex. For more proof of my high rankings and internet
censorship, you may visit this paper.]
[October 12: Bing has reinstated my listing at #14, perhaps in response to this. We will see how it
goes from here.]
Here's more proof of the war:
Because, you know, you can't fake a smoke plume by burning a pile of wood or something. Or with
CGI. Mossad doesn't have that tech.
Here's more proof of the war:

A woman with a baby fleeing a burning pile of leaves. With cops. Wow, I'm convinced. I can hardly
witness the carnage. I hope this came with a triggering warning. Here's more proof of the war:
Yeah, that looks totally real. Totally not pasted together. And what horrible damage from a missile! It
destroyed two entire windows! I like the guy sitting there in the other window, hoping he can catch the
next one in his teeth.
Here's more proof, from a search on “bodies paraded through streets”.

But wait. Are those bodies being paraded through streets, or just some soldiers practicing war games.
Don't matter, publish it!
Then we are shown video of some guys in a truck firing weapons. Yeah, so. Are the rounds live or
blanks? We don't know, but since this is Israel, Hollywood east, I assume this is the usual Jewish
theater.
But we knew this was theater without even studying the pictures, since we already know Hamas is
fake. Just like the PLO and all the other Arab organizations, it is a front for the Israeli army and was
created by Mossad just for times like this. As I say, Jews in turbans.
For more proof of that, I send you back to my 2021 article by my writer-on-the-ground in Tel Aviv,
Josh, who quotes mainstream Jewish sources admitting Hamas was created and funded by the Israeli
Defense. He reminds us of the alleged founder of Hamas, Sheik Yassin:
You have to laugh. A dead ringer for Jewish actor Christopher Lee. And remember what Gore Vidal
taught us: Lee=Levi.
Still don't believe me? Well try this: an article just out at the New York Post, admitting that Hamas is
represented by New York attorney Stanley Cohen. My readers will get a big kick out of that name, and
not just for the Cohen.
Here's more horrific images from the Israel War:

As you see, the carnage is incredible, with that little hooker wearing a bandage on her knee and
running, that lady smiling because she is being groped by an Aryan dude, that guy tilted, and that
smoke! Just offscreen children and grandmothers are being killed, held hostage, or made to watch
American TV!
UPDATE, Next day: More information continues to arrive, confirming this was all staged. That
running girl in the last image was allegedly at a big peace party being held out in the desert—
conveniently right on the Gaza border—and the parasailers were attacking this peace concert. Another
prominent photo allegedly shows a girl dead in the back seat of a car, killed by a strawberry jam
grenade, by the looks of it.
Because that makes sense, right? If you were Hamas, itching for revenge against Israel, you would
target a bunch of kids at a peace party, and kill all their model girls:
That's another model girl allegedly killed. Here is what we are being told. See if you find it believable
at all.
Hamas raped her, broke her limbs, killed her, they paraded around her naked dead body as they
spat on her corpse and yelled "Allahu Akbar".
Yeah, I bet. That's the video from the back of the pickup truck. Except that we are already getting
confirmation this was all staged and that she was just an actress flown in for this part. To start with, we
find she has an extensive previous photo and video presence online, indicating she is an actress. She
has a bunch of spooky tattoos, including snakes, indicating she is bad news. I suspect her name given
in the press Shani Louk/Luk isn't her real name. It means “Red Comrade”, so figure it out yourself.
Within 24 hours the internet was littered with poorly written stories about her, like this. These stories
appear to have been prewritten by agents who don't know how to write, using AI for help. In these
stories, she is anywhere from 22 to 30. Her mother Ricarda Louk is quoted saying she was 22, while
her cousin Tom Weintraub is quoted saying she was 30. Weintraub is identified as both male and
female, as Tom and Tomasina.
And another problem. I have just looked at dozens of photos and videos of Shani Louk posted online,
and I don't see a match to the death photo. We are told friends and family identified her by the leg
tattoos, but Louk's leg tattoos go all the way around her leg, and are dark and obvious.
In the video, the tats looked CGI'ed in later, and they are blurry, light, and don't go all the way around
the leg. If you have the stomach to look more closely, you see why this is: that thing in the film isn't a
person, it is a dummy made to look like Louk with dreads. All the limbs are bent backwards like they
are rubber—which they are. As usual, we can't see her face, so there is no way to truly identify her.
To answer that, we are told all her limbs were broken by these guys, but that isn't how broken limbs
look. That is how rubber dummy limbs look. If these guys had completely broken her knee joints, you
would see bones poking out and bruises and blood. All you see is pristine rubber knees. If you don't
believe me, ask your surgeon if that looks real.
Plus, remember this recent paper, where I showed you how realistic these female mannequins/sex dolls
have become. In a blurry video like this, you literally could not tell the difference.
Here's another problem no one is mentioning. This video had to have been shot by Hamas, but there is
no way those guys are going to appear by face in video and then allow it to be posted online
worldwide. If any of this were real, it would just be asking Mossad to find you, torture you, and kill
your whole family, including all pets. So all these guys are also actors. This whole thing was staged.
Israel has now released the names of 42 of these young female models/actresses that are supposedly
missing:
Not surprisingly, several of them are Kohens. Even stranger, the site posting them, voiceofeurope.com,
has since scrubbed 9 of them, including the Kohens, taking us down to. . . 33. If that is because they
were already found safe, it means 1/6th were found safe in the first few hours, meaning they weren't too
careful compiling this list. What are the odds the others will be found safe in the next few hours, or be
found working for Mossad or Hollywood?
Olga Pilnik has since been removed as well. Possibly because we can translate her Hebrew name as
Shani Amin, which means “red shining one”. That is more indication Shani Louk's name is an alias as
well. These are stage names, not real names.
You do realize this makes absolutely no sense, right? A dozen bozos hang-glided over the border into
a kibbutz peace party and kidnapped 42 of the most beautiful women in Israel? So how did Hamas get
those girls out of there and back across the border? The border was tight on the way in, requiring they
come in silently by air, but then they could noisily drive their pickups full of dead girls back over the
border? Where did the pickups come from? Did they bring those in on kites, too? Anyone buying this
story is braindead.
Despite the obviousness of this fake, everyone on both sides in the US and worldwide is selling it as
real, including Trump, David Icke, RFK, Lara Logan, AOC, Alex Jones, and all the rest. No prominent
person is questioning it. None of them can spot moulage or a rubber girl. Perhaps most surprisingly,
the Dems are actually taking the side of Hamas. Why on earth would they do that? Because it is part
of the purposeful tanking of the Democratic Party, something I have been telling you about for years
now. The Dems are purposely doing everything wrong now, and this is just one more example.
Addendum October 10: reports from the mainstream press in France (LCI) are already confirming my
reading here:
That is yesterday, and it is saying “ 48 hours ago nobody knew the location of the Peace Party, it
seems that it is the Israeli army which organized the operation, it is staggering.” Anne Nivat, the
reporter, admits that the party was only organized the day before, so how did Hamas make these
complicated plans to attack it using parasails and so on?
She doesn't seem to be aware that the deaths were staged/faked, but she does seem to be realizing the
event was an inside job or a false flag. In the same report, we see this photo of cars attacked:
What's wrong there? Anyone? Why are all the cars white? It is the same problem we saw recently in
Hawaii, where everything went to white. The CGI program apparently goofed here, forgetting to apply
color to any of the fake cars it pasted in.
After three days of selling this as real and even amplifying it, a few places like Infowars are finally
reporting today on fake coverage. There we find Clarissa Ward at CNN getting caught faking
incoming missiles on the ground in Israel. They then remind this has happened many times before,
going back to the First Gulf War. Yes, but Infowars knew that three days ago: why didn't they question
any of this stuff to start with? Why are they still selling the main lines of the “war” in many other
stories? Same for Zerohedge, Breitbart, Gateway Pundit, NaturalNews, and all the alternative sites of
that sort. They know—and have reported themselves—that the mainstream has been caught hundreds
of times making up stories about babies killed, civilians decapitated, all the usual worst atrocities. But
then they all reported that in the last three days without questioning any of it. Just today there were
stories about Hamas decapitating babies, and these alternative sites printed it with no question, in
lockstep with the mainstream.
Breitbart is turning out to be the worst of those in this regard, and is again shooting itself in the foot. It
will lose many readers, since it assuming everyone on the right is a big supporter of Israel—something
that is simply not true. But readers there are seeing just how slanted their coverage is, proving who is
really running things over there: the Phoenician Navy, of course.
Same with Trump, who has previously commented on fake news. He is famous for promoting the idea.
But here he has been among the worst repeating this fake news and the fear and division that
accompanies it. Today he was giving speeches warning about WWIII, nukes, and “obliteration”. All
for political hay, so that the Pentagon can send aircraft carriers to fight guys on kites and request
billions more for “defense”, and so that he himself can claim none of this would have happened on his
watch. In other words, more of the worst kind of wag-the-dog propaganda and gaslighting. Really
putrid made-for-TV-and-internet theater.
But it continues to unwind on them, and we see proof of that straight from this paper of mine. The fact
it went superviral immediately, even above anything at the highly promoted Infowars, proves that
millions of people were searching on “Israel War Fake.” So many, as it turns out, the Pentagon and
Langley were forced into panic mode, being ordered to immediately manufacture a lot of fake news
items with those search terms, to misdirect and water down on that question. They desperately needed
to push my listing down. Finding that impossible on such short notice, Bing was forced to simply
delete it.
At many of those manufactured pages, they try to convince us that yes, false stories do get shared
online, photos get mixed up, mistakes are made, but that is mainly the fault of social media, and bad
actors probably sent in from Russia or China. It doesn't mean you should question this event as a
whole, or the news as a whole.
In other planted stories around the “fake” search, the mainstream sites are claiming that anyone that
disbelieves the mainstream stories is themselves spreading fake information or “hate”. Standing the
truth on its head, as usual. They want you to believe that those who refuse the propaganda are
propagandists. Those who refuse the hate are haters. Those who refuse the lies are liars. They even
want to seem to bluff you into believing it is illegal to question the news. If everyone assures you there
is a real war going on and you refuse to believe it, you are a criminal or terrorist. It isn't true. There
are no laws of that sort. You don't have to believe what the government reports, no matter how loudly
they report it.
Even some of my best readers can't seem to get the message here, even after all we have been through.
They are saying, yes, Miles, you have proved some fakery here, and others are showing other instances,
but that is no reason to jump to conclusions. That is no reason to write off the entire war as a fake.
Really? So exactly how many cases of fraud would I have to show you before this was not “jumping to
a conclusion”? What percentage of all events in history would I have to out as fakes before you got the
message that these people are inveterate fakers and pathological liars? Because the percentage is
getting up there. I have covered literally thousands of the top events and people in history, showing
you precisely none of them were what we have been sold. We have been sold a line of a million lies,
and yet when I tell you the next thing they say is a lie, you claim I am jumping to a conclusion? Where
is the jump? There is no jump, I am just arriving naturally and rationally at the logical conclusion,
after decades of research: it is a vast and audacious fraud, run on us all for profit and control. There is
no longer any least doubt of it, so there is no jump. The only jump would be coming to any other
conclusion, given what we have discovered.
Get this through your head once and for all, as a general rule of logic: once you have proven a person
or group is a liar, the default assumption is that everything important he says is a lie. All trust should
be gone. If, in an extended event, you discover sub-events are purposely falsified, the default
assumption is that all events are false. In other words, if we find—and we have found—that many
events in this Israel War are manufactured, staged, or purposely falsified, the logical assumption is that
the whole thing is fake. There is no reason to fake parts of a real event, since a real event has plenty of
real things to report on. Plus, we are not judging this event in isolation. We are not judging it only
upon its owns merits. It is one in a long line of similar events, put on by the same people. We have
already caught them lying about everything else in history, so of course they are lying about this, too.
Do you see how that works?
It isn't just my research, it is Lestrade's voluminous research on the Pacific Theater. It is Orwell,
promoted by the mainstream, who warned us of exactly this: staged wars in far off lands, faked by the
media. If you have read 1984, you know they didn't just have constant war to create hate and drive the
economy, they had constant fake war, manufactured by writers, with nothing real going on on the
ground. It is Hollywood, which has admitted this is what is going on in films like Wag the Dog.
Robert DeNiro told you to your face. They also admit it in films like The Truman Show and The
Matrix: the whole thing is a fake. Even George Bush admitted it, saying “if they knew what we were
doing they would hang us all from the nearest lamp post”. What was it they were doing? What did he
mean? He meant this. He meant that if we found out the Phoenicians were faking everything, and
always had, we would rise up, burn them all down to ash, and then launch the ash in a rocket to the
Sun, where it could never be reconstituted again.
Addendum October 12: You want more? I will keep giving you more. Readers are continuing to
send in fake photos from this fake war. They have more patience with this than I do. Here are two
more.
There are programs you can use to tell if a photo is real or not, so my reader fed that photo into it. It
read 4% real, 96% AI. Metadata on the photo indicates it was not taken with a camera, rather all done
in photoshop then compressed and downsized to hide the seams. That's pretty obvious at a glance, or
should be. Why? Well, remember what I have taught you: look at the photo as a background,
middleground, and foreground. In a real photo, that will be harder to do, since it will all blend in
together naturally, as it should. But in fake photos like this one, it is very easy to divide it into those
three parts. Often a middleground is filled with smoke, but we don't see that here. We see a confusing
middleground that seems to consist of a tank, one guy, and some trash in a land of dirt. The guy is way
too big, since he would match the size of the Jeep in the foreground. You could stand him beside that
Jeep and he would almost be large enough. But there is a little problem called perspective. He is
much further away than the Jeep, so he should look much smaller. These bozos who piece these photos
together always bungle perspective, which is why it is so easy for artists like me to catch them at it.
Same problem with the tanks in the background, which are the same size as the tank in the middle
ground. But since they are much further away, they should be much smaller than that. So I don't need
a computer program to tell me this is fake. I can tell just from its lack of perspective.
Next we have that one, supposed to be two Israeli soldiers protecting a cameraman. You have to laugh.
Looks like something completely different, don't it? But they forgot to protect the other cameraman.
What other cameraman? The one taking the picture. Also notice these guys appear to be from
different units, since their uniforms don't match. Different shoulder patches and helmets. But the
strangest thing is that we are supposed to believe soldiers protect the press, two soldiers assigned to
each cameraman as human shields. Again, you have to laugh. That isn't what we have seen in the past,
is it, especially from the Israeli Army, which hates real media people, who just get in the way and see
things they weren't supposed to see. They may take an unauthorized photo. The press is generally kept
out of all war zones now, and those allowed in are agents themselves, and are therefore left to fend for
themselves—if any real fending is required, which it isn't. Plus, if they are in such a dangerous zone,
why isn't the cameraman wearing a helmet to start with? We just saw this photo heading Lestrade's
new article, remember:
She has the press vest on and a helmet, but the guy above doesn't. Another continuity error. So many
questions, so few answers.
And another one, hot from my inbox:
Three of the four guys are in sandals, and the fourth may be as well. So everyone over there wears
open-toed shoes to walk through war zones? Reminds us of Hawaii, where we saw the same thing.
You may want to ask yourself what miraculous path those guys took through that rubble behind them,
to get through without cutting up their toes or ankles. But obviously they didn't, since this is more
CGI. The computer doesn't understand things like shoes or walking.
After Lestrade's paper on Israel came out yesterday, I decided to dig a bit more on Nicole Zedeck,
bikini reporter for i24News.
Her father is listed at Instantcheckmate as David Zedeck of Florida and Newport Beach, CA. Is that
the same David Zedeck who is head of Global Music at United Talent Agency, one of the biggest in
Hollywood? Seems like more than a coincidence, since I am proving the Israel War is just a
Hollywood production, and the main scene in Act 1 has been at a music festival. Both David Zedecks
are 58. But Newport Beach is far to the south of Beverly Hills, where the music guy is listed. It is in
Orange County, which indicates our David Zedeck moved there with his daughter when she went to
college. Although not from there, she went to Chapman, graduating in 2021. So what does this tell us?
Well, it appears that despite having the same names and ages, they are not the same guy, since the
music producer's daughter is named Missy and works for AEG. She is dark-haired. Our David Zedeck
is listed as an attorney in Austin. He is also a company owner in Steamboat Springs. He has owned 11
companies, and is currently listed as the owner of Eretz Management, which sells properties in Israel. I
guess you see how that ties in here?
Before we move on, let's take a quick look at that Chapman University. Although often sold as a
Christian University, that is just a front. They admit it has had military connections since at least 1958,
and a big film school opened in 1996, when the spooks took over the university in toto. It now has
strong links to Hollywood and through them to the Pentagon and Langley. A few years later the
Rodgers Center for Holocaust Education was opened as well, telling you who took it over. Explaining
why Chapman was involved in this latest hoax. That was funded by Barry Rodgers of BFM
Aerospace, formerly Lear Siegler, the big defense contractor. Otherwise he is a ghost, with no
presence on the internet. Also interesting concerning Chapman is what I was told by other reader, who
informed me he had been at a big conference there in the early 1990s on psychedelics, led by the usual
cadre of spooks including Ram Dass, Tim Leary, and Dennis McKenna. So, just what I expected going
in.
But are the two David Zedecks related? It would explain the promotion of Nicole, wouldn't it? And it
would explain why she went to Los Angeles for school. As we dig on that, we find Nicole's
grandfather Murray Zedeck, and we can definitely link him through his locations to the Murray
Zedeck, retired COB of TransCapital Bank. Since bought out by Power Financial. So that's a palpable
hit. Nicole's aunt Gina is married to Shane Stansbury, who just happens to be a senior lecturer in law at
Duke University, previously a federal prosecutor. He is a distinguished fellow at their Center for Law,
Ethics, and National Security. So we are really getting somewhere now. I guess you see how that ties
in here? In his profile we find that among many others, he prosecuted
Minh Quang Pham, a former associate of Anwar al-Awlaki and key operative for al Qaeda in the Arabian
Peninsula, for terrorism offenses;
Oho, you mean the Anwar al-Awlaki I have proved was a big fake? [See p. 3, there] Remember this,
from that paper:
Al-Awlaki (real name Nasser) graduated from Colorado State University, which he illegally
attended on a foreign student's visa, claiming to have been born in Yemen. While still at CSU, he
(allegedly) went to Afghanistan to train with the mujahideen, where he was allegedly radicalized.
Seems like he would have needed to have been radicalized before he went, but we aren't told how
this rich boy was radicalized in Colorado. Despite being a radical, he then went to George
Washington University to work on his PhD in education. As radicals and imams do.
The usual BS we are sold by the Intel communities. This indicates Nicole's uncle Stansbury is a spook
working fake court cases, like many others we have blown the cover of.
Note the Arlington, VA, there, along with all the other locations.
But let's return to the Zedecks. The Hollywood David Zedeck's parents are listed as still alive in Islip, Jack and
Lorraine. . . Finally, I found a link. These Zedecks of Central Long Island (Islip, Babylon), related to the David
Zedeck of Beverly Hills, also have links to Parkland, FL. See for example Maurice Zedeck, 88. Well, Nicole
also has links to Parkland through her Zedecks, see her cousins Jordan and Benjamin. That's because her
(great?)uncle Leonard is from there, as well as Jupiter. We are told Leonard worked with Murray Zedeck the big
banker in a large real estate company in that area (or actually many of them). So we now have the two Zedecks
with family in the same town, strongly indicating they are related. Murray's father is given as Benjamin in one
of his bios, and we find a Benjamin Zedek, later Zedeck, in Albany, and his Geni page is managed by Murray.
Our Zedecks are also from Albany, with some of them having the locations of Ballston Lake and Clifton Park.
Benjamin is not listed with a son Murray, but that is because Murray is still alive. They don't list living relatives.
At any rate, these Zedeks of New York are not just Jewish, they are HaKohens. Of the high priestly class. So
that fits in here like buttered fingers in a glove. It also allows us to link Nicole's Zedecks back to New York, as
well as to give us a second town match with Albany. So we now have a probable match based on locations that
Nicole is related to the big talent agency/music festival guy in Hollywood. That would start to explain why they
used a music festival in this current fake event. Otherwise it is inexplicable. Now we just need to link to a
paragliding company, to explain that.
Speaking of which, one of my French readers just sent me this link, about EU Ambassador Sven Kuhn von
Burgsdorff, who paraglided in July in Gaza to “show the way” to the Palestinians. Remember, Kuhn=Kohen, so
we have the usual telegraphing of an event.
And in other news, it is being reported that the Red Cross is AWOL, refusing to check on the “hostages” in
Gaza. That just confirms again this is all a fraud, though nobody but me is reading it in the logical way. How
can the Red Cross check on hostages that don't exist? You would think the CIA would be able to bring the Red
Cross under the hoax umbrella, but I guess they forgot to write them into the script.
President of Israel Isaac Herzog is quoted today as saying all Palestinians are now war targets, “all responsible”,
but that somehow that is not against international laws of warfare. Israel is ordering the evacuation of huge areas
and cutting off their water and electricity and food supplies. UN High Commissioner Volker Turk has admitted
all that is strictly illegal, since a country cannot target civilian populations in that manner. All this has been
illegal since the time of the US Civil War and before, which is just one reason our treatment of the Natives was
seen as so heinous. So even if you believe the mainstream story of the “war” so far, you should be shocked at
Israel's response. They appear to be using it as an excuse for genocide.
And these people can't figure out why they aren't liked. The Jews seem to be trying to use this manufactured
conflict to generate sympathy for themselves, but as usual they are shooting themselves in the foot high caliber.
We are finding out the left in the US was already sympathetic to Palestine, and though places like Breitbart and
Gateway Pundit want you to believe Israel has strong support from the right, that isn't true, either. It has the
support of Republican political leaders and the military, but almost no support from voters on the right. The
only conservatives in the US who support Israel are conservative Jews and some fundamentalist Christian sects
who are philoSemitic. The rest of us are sick to death of the whole subject. We wish these people would
colonize the Moon and leave us be of their fake projects and conjobs.
So the timing and form of this latest fraud is the worst possible for them. It not only puts eyes on them,
generating more revolutionary fervor at the grassroots, it hurts the Republican party and these conservative
voices like Breitbart, Gateway Pundit, and all the rest. People are ditching those sites in droves, due to this
alone. And it undercuts support for Trump and any other conservative candidates talking about supporting the
new war in Israel. I have news for you: the American people don't support ANY new war. They are sick to
death of the Old World Order of constant fake wars, draining the treasuries and stealing taxes, and they do not
support a New World Order that does the same. They can see that as bad as the Old World was, the New World
is even worse.
The only good news, if you could call it that, is that Infowars has seen the writing on the wall here and is already
pulling back quickly from its early support of this narrative. Today it is leading with stories on the ADL using
this event to crack down on free speech, and the Isaac Herzog story—admitting that Israel's over-reaction is
shocking and even suspicious. Except that, in another lead story, they are still selling the Peace Party massacre
as real and selling newer fake films of Hamas taking hostages and setting houses on fire. So they have a long
way to go. This is to be expected, since Infowars' main job is to keep fear levels high. The manner isn't so
important, and they can even appear to be revolutionary as long as the message is fear and division. And if their
message is contradictory and garbled, both pro-Israel and con, so much the better: it keeps your mind properly
stirred, so you can't figure out anything and therefore cannot act.

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Works by the author published by Galera Record

Throne of Glass Series

A Court of Thorns and Roses series

Cutting silver flames

Ice cut and stars

City of the Crescent Moon Series

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Translation of: House of flame and shadow

1. American fiction. 2. Electronic books. I. Cândido, Carolina. II. Araújo, Gabriela.

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The Four Houses of Midgard

PART I – THE DESCENT

PART II – THE SEARCH

PART III – THE ASCENSION

Next, an unpublished short story after the events of Casa de Chama

THE FOUR HOUSES OF

As decreed in 33 Vanir by the Imperial Senate in the City

HOUSE OF EARTH AND BLOOD

HOUSE OF SKY AND BLOW

HOUSE OF MANY WATERS

HOUSE OF FLAME AND SHADOW

her calf. If it were someone else, it could be understood as a gesture of

Lidia glanced at the committee of parasites sitting in

— I had no idea of my son's activities or his treacherous heart, I swear by

If they were somehow repelled by some ancient power that surrounded

her, as if she were the owner of the situation. Her owner.

— Don't you want to know where your son is? - He asked

Well, most Midgardians.

Lidia bowed with imperial precision. Pollux repeated the movement,

Lidia walked leisurely towards the elevators.

Was it a deliberate provocation to Athalar that the mountain, Mount

She should have realized Rigelus's trick, but she hadn't.

Unless Bryce Quinlan had ended up somewhere else than

“Yes.” Lidia followed the screams past the flickering primaluces in

Lidia couldn't look at the third figure hanging behind them. I

The prince's attractive blue eyes exuded utter contempt.

Ruhn's lip drew back in a silent snarl, the blood

Bryce Quinlan was in a chamber so far beneath the mountains that

For a place that apparently wasn't Hell, the surroundings certainly

The female continued:

So she sat there, waiting for restraints or handcuffs or whatever form of

The mignon female replied:

The female's red painted lips curved upwards.

Rhysand raised a large, star-encrusted hand.

She closed her eyes, tried to calm her ragged breathing,

But the handsome male — Rhysand — asked in a voice like midnight:

— How did you find this world?

intended to do? Or see it as a threat to be eliminated?

Would they have passages in this world? Means of transport?

Trying to turn around, she nodded towards the warrior's dagger.

Bryce blinked, the picture of innocence and outrage.

She was in another world, with strangers who were evidently

She needed to get to Hell. Or at least go back to

I don't go where I'm not invited spontaneously.

— Azriel. — He gestured slowly to the male. Then to the female. —Amren.