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He shook his head. “Lorian isn’t known for his subtlety. When he wants something, he goes after it. UntilPrisca. She was the one thing he wanted but couldn’t let himself have. And it tortured him. At the time, Prisca and I weren’t even truly friends yet. But the betrayal in her eyes…it was devastating. I would never want to see that expression and know I had caused it. Not on Prisca, and not on any of my friends.”

I couldn’t have understood this just a few months ago. Now…now, I was beginning to.

“But you used it on your father’s council.”

Our eyes met. My voice held no judgment, and something in his expression relaxed when he realized I wasn’t being malicious. I was, after all, the one who had insisted Vicer use his power against Kaelin Stillcrest. If he had…

A tiny grave appeared in my mind, Whirna lying next to it, her voice agonized.

“I promised him I would keep him safe. It was my job to keep him safe.”

Rythos was still watching me. I cleared my throat. “I don’t blame you. I would have done it too.”

“I wouldn’t have,” Rythos said. “Just months ago, I never could have imagined I would have done such a thing. I was enraged at the mere suggestion from my father that I was too dangerous to be allowed access to his council. And I spent years believing he had unjustly banished me from our territory.” He let out a humorless laugh. “I could have saved myself years of angst and rage by simply admitting that he was right. I was a threat.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, you were a threat. And if Verdion had behaved as a true leader should, instead of holding on to pettiness over ancient grudges, you likelynever would have acted on that threat.”

He went still. “It’s that simple to you?”

Impatience swept through me. “I’m not Prisca. If you want soft words about how this one choice doesn’t change anything about your worth, talk to her. People who question their decisions and refuse to act based on preconceived ideas about right and wrong are useless in this war. If we’re going to win, we need to use every weapon available to us. Vicer…Vicer didn’t use his power, even when his instincts likely screamed at him to do so. And hundreds of hybrids paid for it with their lives.” I pushed the image of that tiny grave out of my head once more and focused on Rythos. “Do you believe the gods give us our powers for a reason?”

He shrugged one shoulder, turning to watch a group of Arslan walking below. They looked so…carefree, laughing as they strolled toward the water. Had I ever been that carefree?

“I never used to believe such a thing,” Rythos said. “I thought our powers were nothing more than coincidence. And then I met Prisca. I saw what she could do, and I realized we might truly have a chance to win this war.”

If there was one thing Prisca was good at, it was getting people to believe in her. I’d once dismissed the power of hope. But that hope could be what made us survive this war.

“I don’t think the gods make mistakes. I believe they take too much of an interest in some of our lives, but nothing is accidental. Why else would Lorian have the kind of power he does, when it would make more sense for it to belong to the fae king? You were given your power for a reason. Perhaps it was all for this.”

“Perhaps it was not,” a frigid voice said from behind us.

I whirled. The man standing in front of us must have moved incredibly quietly for Rythos’s fae senses not to have noticed him. And I was betting I could guess how.

He was taller than Rythos, although not quite as broad. He had the same wide mouth, but his eyes were cold.

Rythos stiffened. “Brevan.”

The Arslan heir swept his gaze over me dismissively before returning it to Rythos. But I wasn’t interested in him either.

I was far more interested in the guards gathered behind him.

ASINIA

Gwynara swam toward me with the fluidity of a fish. I barely dodged her as she hurtled for the shore.

“Get out,” she gasped, but I was already diving deep, knife in one hand, arrow in the other.

It was dark beneath the surface––pitch black, as if we were inside the belly of some vast, lethal monster. The only light came from the dim light pooling above us, casting shadows into the depths. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and turned, but it was gone before I could strike out.

A moment later, I could see the men, three of them together, their legs powering them toward the shore. ButNyrik’s blood continued to darken the water around them.

More movement. And this time, I caught sight of the creature—about three times the width of the largest eel I’d ever seen, its open mouth displaying rows of vicious teeth. Teeth that still held pieces of Nyrik’s flesh trapped between them.

My lungs had already begun to ache. But I could see what would happen. The monstrous eel was waiting below, and any moment now, it would approach diagonally, shooting up from the depths of the lake. Right before Demos and the others made it to shore.

I gripped the hilt of my dagger tightly, curled my knees in, and thrust them out, crossing the water to meet it.

The serpent creature was much, much faster than I was. But I was closer to the others. And I shoved my body in front of them, striking out with the knife.