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Kiva was close enough to hear his labored breathing, to feel him shaking with fatigue.

She realized then: his magic might be back, but after being so long without it, he wasn’t at full strength. He needed time to build his power back up. What he’d just done had been instinctive, a reaction based on years of training, but he didn’t have the energy to sustain that kind of magical desperation, especially after having fought nonstop since their arrival at the palace. He was exhausted, which meant both his magic and his body wouldn’t be able to hold out indefinitely. Another attack like the one they’d just endured...

Kiva knew Jaren would give everything to keep his people safe, to keephersafe. But she also knew there was a limit to what even he could give.

Navok seemed to be just as aware, because he signaled to Xuru and the rest of his personal guards to keep them from attacking again, then he stepped into the space they’d cleared. The warring on the bridgeremained paused, as if everyone from both sides was holding their breaths, waiting to see what would happen next.

The Mirraven king walked slowly toward Kiva and Jaren, his hair like bronze flames atop his head, his eyes a storm of rage.

Jaren tried to push Kiva behind him, but she didn’t budge. She was the reason for the fury on Navok’s face, the reason he would never receive the magic he longed for, or grow his elemental army. The anomalies he had now were all he would ever have — and they were diminishing by the minute, a quick glance at the grounds revealing them being cut down by the Royal Guard, Ashlyn’s soldiers, and Tor’s rebels. If not for Navok’s Gray Guards defending their magical brethren, the fight would nearly be over. But there were just too many warriors on Mirraven’s side — and too few on Evalon’s. Even with Ariana and Mirryn having now joined the fight, using their powers to defend and attack, their enemy was still too great.

“Do you see what’s happening here?” Navok called to Jaren, stopping a careful distance away and gesturing toward the war-torn battleground. “It’s only a matter of time before my army destroys yours. With or without the Hand of the Gods, I will take this city, this kingdom, thiscontinent.”

Kiva shivered against Jaren, not just from Navok’s words, but from hiscertainty.There wasn’t a trace of doubt in his eyes, as if their end was inevitable.

The king gestured again. “Look around,” he said, his rage turning into arrogance. “Imade this happen. I killed my own father when he was too weak and spineless to take action, and then I spent the last eight months sending my warriors out to the furthest reaches of Wenderall to build my army of anomalies. I’ve been planning for this day my wholelife.And you —” Navok sneered at Jaren, then finished, “Even with your magic, you are but a single ember facing an inferno. You can’t hope to defeat me.”

Jaren’s face was set with determination, but before he could respond, another voice beat him to it.

“He can’t. But I can.”

Kiva stilled at the words — and at the sight of their owner stepping onto the bridge.

It was Cresta.

At her side was Serafine, the princess’s face splotchy from crying, but there was a wide, radiant smile on her lips, as if she couldn’t contain her joy.

Seeing that smile, Kiva didn’t understand. Nor did she understand why Navok suddenly looked as if he was staring at a ghost.

Cresta’s hazel eyes locked with his as she murmured something to Serafine, causing the princess to nod and disappear back into the palace. Only then did the ex-quarrier step forward, no one stopping her as she approached the king, halting a few feet away.

Kiva looked between them, her heartbeat turning erratic as her eyes began to see what her thoughts struggled to comprehend:

Their identical sharp jawlines. Their long, straight noses. Their wild, rugged beauty.

It wasn’t possible. Itcouldn’tbe possible.

Cresta just watched Navok, fierce and unflinching, waiting for him to speak.

When he did, his voice was strangled as he rasped out, “You’re supposed to be dead.”

A dangerous slash of teeth stretched across her mouth as she said, loud enough for them all to hear, “Hello to you too, brother.”

Chapter Thirty

Brother.

Navok Kildarion was Cresta’sbrother.

Kiva gaped at them, then turned to Jaren, seeing the stunned disbelief on his face. He hadn’t known.Noneof them had known.

Things weren’t good at home.

Cresta’s voice sounded in Kiva’s mind, a memory of the history she’d once shared. The father who had abused her — that wasKing Arakkis.That meant Serafine was the sister he had considered weak and worthless. But... Cresta had never mentioned abrother.Kiva would have remembered that, would have beencurious.As it was, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t had the first suspicion about who Cresta was, even after all their time together.

It’s easy to hide what you don’t want others knowing,Cresta had said, weeks earlier.You of all people should know that.

All along, the truth had been right there, hidden among her lies.