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“I would be very careful if I were you, Seraphena.” His lip lifted enough that I saw he had no fangs. “I can see by your face that Kolis isn’t completely convinced of who you are.”

Was he suggesting that Kolis had never harmed Sotoria? What a fucking liar. He could take that lie and go fuck himself, taking Kolis’s apology with him. “As if him believing that or not matters.”

“If you were truly Sotoria, you would know that it does,” he said. “But perhaps you’ve forgotten. Either way, I know how this ends.”

“Oh, so you’re also an Arae?”

“What I am is patient. I only have to wait. Eventually, Kolis must choose between love and…well, literally everything else.” Callum grasped the bars. He didn’t react. Either he was masking the pain I’d felt when I touched the bars, or they did not affect him. “So, he may humor this…whatever this is.” His gaze swept over me with that cold-as-a-grave stare. “He may spend the next days, weeks, months, or even years convincing himself that you are all he’s ever wanted or needed, but rest assured, you will eventually end up like all of his other favorites.”

He pressed his forehead against the bars. “Because there is one thing he’s wanted more than his graeca, and that is to be the most powerful Primal ever to exist. So, it’s either something as intangible as love, or ultimate power over life and death.”

He was talking a lot of shit, but the part about there being months or even years for Kolis to grow tired of me stood out. Exactly how could he delay the Culling for that long?

Callum let his fingers slide over the bars before stepping back. He clasped his hands. “In a few moments, servants will begin entering the chamber and then your quarters. You will move to your left and not speak to them,” he instructed, nodding toward the divan and the chests. “You will allow them to complete their tasks without interruption. And just to be clear, that means you will behave yourself. So, no attempting to murder anyone.”

I breathed through the flaring pulse of red-hot anger. “And if I don’t?”

“I know you want to fight, Seraphena.” That godsawful pleasant smile returned. “I know your first response to any situation is to attack, just as you did before. But I strongly advise against trying that again.”

“Like I give a fuck what you advise,” I hissed, losing control of my temper. Attempting to earn Kolis’s trust did not extend to Callum.

“Be that as it may, you should know what will happen if you decide not to give a fuck about my advice. If you attempt to attack me, it will not be you who pays the price. It will be a servant.”

My mouth dropped open.

“You speak to one of them? I will kill them. For each minute you delay them, one will die,” he told me, speaking so damn casually. “And just so we’re perfectly clear, their lives are in your hands. When they die, they do not come back.”

A cold sweat broke out across my forehead as I stepped back from the bars. He couldn’t be serious.

“They mean little to me,” Callum added with a shrug. “I suppose we will see how much they mean to you.”

My gaze shifted to the open doors. Figures in white robes and veils appeared in the sunlight-drenched hall.

The Chosen.

My heart thumped as they entered the chamber, walking in a single, neat line. Each one carried a large bucket. Were they the same as those I’d seen in the other chamber the day before?

As the Chosen approached the cage, Callum sighed and then moved—so damn fast—to stand behind the first Chosen.

I hadn’t done as he ordered.

Shooting to the side of the cage, my feet slipped on the tile. “No. No—”

Callum smiled.

His hands went to the sides of the veiled head—

Bone cracked like dried branches snapping in the wind.

I jolted at the clang of metal hitting tile. I didn’t want to believe what I saw as the Chosen’s legs collapsed, and they slumped to the floor. I shook my head in denial, but the embers of life throbbed in response to the death, pressing against my skin, demanding that I use them to restore life to the Chosen. Horror swamped me as I stared at the crumpled pile of white. Dimly, I became aware of my hand lifting halfway as if that could fend off what I’d witnessed.

Or do something else. But what? I couldn’t restore life without touch.

“You…you didn’t have to do that,” I said shakily. “I can bring them back.”

Callum slowly turned to me, his brows rising. Then he moved to stand behind the second Chosen—

“Don’t!” I hurried toward the divan as nausea rose. “I’m moving. Look! I’m doing what you asked. You don’t have to hurt them. Please.”