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“What?” Asger rubbed the spot on his skull where Cy struck with his palm.

“You’re an embarrassment. Tell the woman you want to bed her, or keep your mouth shut around her.”

Asger’s face heated in a rush of pink. He gripped the hilt of his short blade and faced the balcony.

Gwyn and her sly fingers had managed to snatch an official report from Heric—the royal regent responsible for heading up sailing parties to scout other realms or anything that could be considered a threat—before it made it to the crown prince. Destin would tell me little, and I was keen to understand what was happening here.

My stomach clenched in disquiet reading the stolen missive. “There have been strange occurrences across the realms.”

Cy peered over my shoulders, a hiss sliding through his lips. “Damn vampires have experienced something odd too? They started the last war.”

Oddities were not only here and in the realm of blood drinkers, but in Talamh, the fae realm, even to the wolf shifters in Vargr.

“Seems Heric knew little else, other than some odd behavior within some royal houses.” I folded the missive, tucking it away. New unknowns tugged at the shadowed past I could not recall.

“I think we can assume the lore is true.” Asger nudged my side, casting his bright gaze to the scroll.

“Agreed,” I said with reluctance. There was more than one sacrifice prophesied to return at the fiftieth weave. It was not such a stretch to assume other kingdoms had welcomed their lost ones home.

“So the shift we’ve felt . . .” Cy’s words trailed off.

I merely nodded. If this was happening amidst other realms, it was likely the sudden appearance of Adira Ravenwood meant shewasthe lost bloodline.

It meant she was in great danger of the dark magic in this land hunting her down.

Destin, with Adira at his side, emerged onto the balcony, and a hush fell over the crowd. By the stars, she looked . . . beautiful and horrified.

Agatha had seen to it she’d been clad in a gaudy dress laden in icy lace and topped with a thick robe that seemed to swallow her up. Her eyes had been painted in dark shades—not suited for her—that buried the poignant green of her eyes. And someone had arranged her auburn waves into a mountainous design on top of her head. All braids and pins and curls.

I tilted my head, studying her, hating her for her nearness, and wanting to be ever closer in the same breath.

Perhaps she was a punishment from the goddess for my vitriol against her.

Whoever Adira was, I could not shake thoughts of her, and I did not understand why the desire to draw nearer was teetering near obsession.

Destin lifted his palms, grinning. “My people, my friends, Torrent brought us chaos, but Havestia brought us hope. As prophesied,the bloodline of House Ravenwood, who gave their blood and life for Magiaria, has returned.”

A few gasps, a few shouts, a few bouts of applause, rippled through the crowd.

Destin allowed it for a few moments before silencing the villagers with a gesture. “Adira Ravenwood has agreed to submit to the Flames of the Blood for our eyes to see, our minds to know, and our hearts to feel she is our blood sacrifice returned.”

From behind my brother, Hugo waved his palms over the balcony, and a thick, iron bowl shaped into a deep pit.

“Lovely.” Cy pinched his lips, ogling the inner guard with a gleam of need.

“Poor Hugo,” Asger muttered. “You’ll traumatize the poor man, Cy.”

I chuckled. True enough. Hugo was a fierce metallurgist Soturi, but rather timid. Cyland’s brazen tongue was enough to drain the man of blood in his face.

Once Hugo had finished, an ignis Mage, a fire worker, murmured a swift spell cast, and a vibrant blue wall of flames burst toward the sun.

As though the flame breached my skull, a shocking burn rippled across my head. A groan slid from my chest, and I dug the heel of my hand into my brow.

“Not another one,” Cy whispered, hand on my shoulder.

I closed my eyes. There was a hazy image building in my thoughts, so close, yet I could not smooth it out to full form. Heat, a glow of deep, sea blue. Young laughter. A girl’s snide, “What did I say, you arrogant prince. Ravenwood.Let’s see if you’re who you think you are. Step up to the pyre,” sliced through my head.

“The flames,” I gritted out, wincing as the ache in my skull slowly faded. “Something about the flames.”