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“I don’t know.”

“She was right.” I let out a laugh that came out more than a little hysterical. “When Madinia told Vicer to use his power on Stillcrest, I was against it. And now all those hybrids…thechildren.”

My eyes burned, but I couldn’t seem to cry. I didn’t deserve the release of tears.

My people. The people I was supposed to keep safe.

Consequences.

Were these the consequences from the gods? I turned back time to save one life and lost hundreds or thousands more?

I was going to be sick. I was—

A scream cut through the night. Followed immediately by several more. My heart jumped into my throat, and I pulled away from Lorian as Rythos squinted into the distance.

“What can you see?” I demanded, wishing yet again for fae vision.

“Winged beasts. Heading this way. From the north.”

10

Prisca

Rekja’s war room was a grand chamber that sprawled across the uppermost floor of the castle’s east wing. Windows on each side offered views of both the city below us and the dock to the east.

The sky was filled with winged creatures. Likely, they were the same creatures that had attacked the rebel camp and almost killed Demos. They hovered at some invisible line in the distance, waiting to attack.

Outside the northern city gates, the ground was a sea of black. More creatures, only these were clearly confined to the ground. Behind them, soldiers hauled catapults and battering rams, while others built siege towers.

Flames flickered in the distance. They were setting up their encampment. I took a moment to reach for the threads of my magic, hope flickering in my chest.

But no. My power was still nowhere to be found.

I hadn’t expected it to be back. And still, the disappointment engulfed me.

Inside, the room buzzed with an undercurrent of tense energy. Every chairaround the massive oakwood table was occupied by Rekja’s commanders, generals, and advisers, their expressions ranging from determination to weariness.

More soldiers lined the walls, their backs straight and hands clasped behind them, lined the walls.

“We need to send a message to Asinia, Demos, and Tibris,” I told Lorian. “They’re traveling this way.”

“Already done. I told them to head toward Thobirea,” he said, and some of the knots in my stomach unraveled. His gaze flicked to Rekja, who stood near one of the windows, gazing down at the city below him. I didn’t ask why Rekja’s scouts hadn’t seen the Eprothans approaching earlier. If they hadn’t sounded the alarm, it was because they were likely dead.

When his eyes met mine, they held grim acceptance.

“Regner isn’t here. He sent his general, Tymedes. He has demanded I concede this kingdom to Eprotha.”

For a long, hideous moment, I couldn’t even speak.

Rekja glanced at Lorian when I didn’t reply. “This would always have happened. My father clung to his ignorance, believing Regner would allow Gromalia to exist. And that together, human kings would rule all four kingdoms.” His mouth twisted.

“This city is in a strategic location to take the rest of Gromalia,” Lorian said. “Regner can’t take the capital by water, but if this city falls, the Eprothans can use this as their base until they’re ready to continue moving south.”

Rekja said nothing. His eyes had turned empty, almost lifeless.

“Regner has decided to use the monsters he has been hiding,” Galon said. “And that makes me wonder wherehe is positioning the rest of his human soldiers.”

Rekja gestured to the monsters flittering back and forth above Regner’s soldiers. “What are they?”