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“So you didn’t give him the tears?”

“Of course I fucking didn’t!” His snarl rang off the stone walls. “He was putting the whole territory in danger. He wasn’t fit to be prince.”

“Then I sacrificed for nothing. You dumped me in the Highlands for nothing.”

“We had to send you,” Aleksander said. He flicked a glance at Grigory. “The Blood demanded it.”

A memory tugged at me—Grigory lowering his voice as he spoke to Aleks in my father’s chamber. “She doesn’t have to succeed. The Blood only requires that you try.”

“You didn’t want me to be successful,” I said. And I understood that part. They’d made a token effort to get the tears, hoping the gesture would satisfy the Blood.

But why drag me back home now that they’d gotten what they wanted?

Why were they angry I’d survived?

Something was wrong here…

A flash of red caught my eye. I looked at the fat ruby nestled against Aleksander’s chest…then at Grigory standing stiffly beside the throne.

“It didn’t work, did it?” I guessed, meeting my brother’s gaze. “You refused Father the tears, and the Blood rejected you.”

Aleksander stared at me, and I couldn’t decipher his expression. He looked almost…puzzled. “You shouldn’t have bedded the dragons, Halina. Something has changed. Their power—”

“Aleksander,” Grigory said, an undercurrent of warning in his voice. “Just get on with it.”

Get on with what? My heart started to pound.

Grigory pulled something—a small remote—from his pocket and clicked a button. Behind the throne, the metal curtain began to ascend, revealing the balcony and a purple sky.

A predawn sky.

The sun was coming up.

My brother stood at last, his hand going to the dagger at his hip. “We know you mated the dragons. We can feel it. And Krovnosta won’t be threatened by their kind. I may not be able to kill them.” He moved toward me, a purposeful look in his eyes. “But I can kill you.”

I backed away, my heart racing. “You don’t have to do this. The dragons are no threat to you.”

“Yes, they are.” He drew the dagger and kept moving forward. But he was slow about it. Almost cautious.

I dared to look at Grigory, who watched us, his features tense.

Why was he just standing there? And why hadn’t Aleks simply channeled to me and cut my throat? Instead, he continued to advance, backing me up.

Heat touched my shoulders, followed by a flash of pain.

The sun.

He was herding me to the balcony. Gods, he was going to force me into the light—finishing what the warriors had started all those years ago. Except this time Aleks would be my murderer instead of my savior.

And after he finished with me, Bram and Fergus could be next.

No. No way was I letting that happen.

I bent my knees, centering myself the way Bram had taught me.

Aleksander’s eyes widened, but only for a second. He refocused quickly and gripped the dagger more tightly. Grigory stayed silent. Observant. Waiting to watch me die.

You’ll be waiting a long time, Uncle.