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He leaned down and kissed me again, this time harder. “Yes.” Then he pulled away and left the bed, and the second he was on his two feet, he disappeared—just like that.

I lay there until the sheets turned cold, until I had the energy to start my day. I bathed and dressed and then headed to the courtyard, where I would ask Zehemoth to meet me. Instead ofmeeting in our usual place, I took a short detour to the cemetery that housed my ancestors—the very ones who’d taken up their swords twentysomething years ago.

But I saw someone already there.

At Vivian and Lena’s headstone was my mother, and she bent down and placed a handful of white flowers at the base of the stone. Tied together with a stalk of wheat, the boutique was stunning, full of spring that we didn’t have. They must have been taken from the greenhouse.

I watched her remain on her knees as she stared at the names etched in the stone. Watched her mourn for someone she never knew. A daughter who had never been hers. A woman whom her husband had loved before her.

My mom was the most amazing woman there ever was.

I walked over and looked at the names that were still sharp in the stone when others had faded, like she had one of the stoneworkers recarve the material to make it stand out once a year. “You’re the one who leaves the flowers…”

She didn’t give a jolt in surprise at my sudden approach, either because she already knew I was there or because her thoughts were somewhere else. She rose to her feet and managed to greet me with a smile, always happy to see me like my father was. “It’s important to remember those who came before us.”

I stared at Lena’s name—my namesake. “Who were they?” I hoped my mother would tell me the truth so I wouldn’t have to carry the lie, but I knew she wouldn’t.

“Rothschilds.” She turned back to the stone again.

“Lena must have been important since I have her name as part of mine.”

She stared at the headstone for a long time. “She was. Still is.” A gust of air moved through her hair before she looked at me again. She moved toward me and circled her arm around my shoulders as she guided me away from the cemetery. She rubbed my back as she walked with me to one of the tall olive trees.

There was so much I wanted to say, but I knew I shouldn’t say it.

“It’s a beautiful day.” She looked up into the cloudless sky before she looked at me, her eyes having the same tinge of emotion my father often carried. “How about a picnic? Just us girls.”

I let her guide me away from the subject I wasn’t allowed to breach. I didn’t want to pressure her to expose a secret that wasn’t hers to reveal. But I wanted her to know what she meant to me, how I admired her for having nothing but love in her heart. “You’re amazing, Mom.”

First, she expressed bewilderment. Then a rush of emotion spread across her features, and a blush filled her pale cheeks. “What makes you say that, sweetheart?”

I gave a shrug. “I just don’t say it enough.”

PROLOGUE V

WRATH

“Bahamut’s attack on the Realm of Caelum has failed.” Raul, one of the five of the Covenant, sat in the center on his black throne carved out of petrified stone. Fangs protruded from his mouth, curved horns like a ram sat upon his head, and talons long and sharp as daggers protruded from his fingers and toes. With skin made of scales, fibers over his chest where his black, beating heart pumped, he was another monster like the one we’d lost. Sometimes his eyes were black as the abyss, and sometimes they were red with flames.

I stood among the others at the bottom of the stairs, beside monsters, crippled servants, and courtesans who were forced to please him. All of us were scarred by Bahamut’s brutality—and I suspected no one cared that he was gone forever.

His fate was worse than death.

Because now he was nothing, part of the abyss to which so few had ever traveled.

“Another must take his place,” Raul continued. “Another must finish his work, pay his debts, continue to fuel the underworldwith the souls of the foolish that sustain us all.” He looked across the crowd, as if searching for the replacement that very moment.

His eyes stopped on me.

I almost shook my head in silent protest.

“Wrath.” His deep voice echoed off the stone columns that surrounded the stone dais. His eyes now leaped in fiery flames. “You served your sire faithfully these last centuries. We have agreed to appoint you to this position.”

I did what I was told without a word. Internalized my torture and suffered in silence. I’d done so in the hope that some mercy would be granted to me, that I would be able to confess the truth to my boys. But that mercy had never come, and the Covenant misconstrued my silence as obedience. “I reject your proposal. Choose another.” I had served Bahamut intimately, knew exactly how to continue his position if I wished. But no part of me wanted something so foul.

It had already been quiet, but now, a palpable tension passed through the crowd. Slowly, all eyes turned on me, shocked that I would reject a position of honor and power. It was a job anyone there would be happy to take.

But not me.