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Yes, I remember that part. But how did I…?

It all comes back to me with horrifying clarity. The battle, Ferox injured. My attempts to save him thwarted by that Dacian.

And then—red. Red like rage. Like blood.

So much blood. And magic, twisted, unholy magic, flowing into my veins, then right back out to kill and kill and kill.

I squeeze my eyes shut, a whimper trapped in my throat.

I wasn’t supposed to kill. So why did I go feral with violence?

“Whoa, whoa,” Memnon says, either hearing my thoughts or sensing my mood change. “I will not let you hate yourself.”

I cover my eyes with a shaky hand. “I killed so many people.Again.” I drop my hand to stare Memnon in the eyes. “I couldn’t stop myself,” I admit. “Every death made me want more, not less vengeance.”

Across our bond, I feel…empathy.

“That’s true bloodlust. It happens a lot on the battlefield.”

I make a pained noise, and Memnon presses his forehead against mine, wrapping an arm around my back to hold me there. “The magic complicates things. You have seen me in the throes of it.”

I have. I swallow, staring at him.

“I hadn’t realized it could consume you the way mine consumes me. But you are not broken, and you are not evil,” he insists. “You’re a powerful queen, protecting your people from our enemies. Nothing,nothingis more honorable than that. Andout there in battle?” Memnon gives his head a shake. “You were breathtaking?—”

“Brother?” Zosines’s voice comes from the doorway.

Reluctantly, I drag my attention to the entrance of our tent. Zosines hesitantly steps inside, his gaze moving from Memnon to me. His eyes flicker with something like reverence, and he bows his head.

“Why are you standing at the door like a stranger?” Memnon says playfully. “Come in.”

Zosines’s eyes never leave mine as he comes forward and kneels before me.

My brows draw together as he bows his head. “Thank you, my queen.”

I glance at Memnon uncertainly.

“Do you not know?” Memnon says with a slight curl of his lips. “Our warriors witnessed your power and saw how you ended our enemies. You’re a hero, my queen.” Pride shines from his eyes.

“A hero?” I echo. I still don’t understand when I face Zosines again.

The warrior’s head rises just a little, and he looks at me with unmasked awe. “You brought down the wrath and might of Sarmatia. The Dacians will think twice before attacking us again, now that they know to fear both our kingandour queen.”

I give him a weak, watery smile, my emotions a conflicted mess.

Zosines’s attention moves from me to Memnon. “The celebrations are about to begin. As the slayer of now two Dacian kings, your presence …” Zosines lets the rest of the statement go unspoken, but his meaning is clear: the Sarmatian king should be there.

“I will go there once I know my wife is well.”

Ignoring how my arm throbs in protest, I grab his hand and give it a squeeze. “Go, I will meet you there in a little while.”

Memnon gives his head a shake. “You do not need to come at all,” he insists. “You’re still recovering.”

“I am not infirm. I can show up to a celebration.”

Memnon’s gaze drops for a moment to my belly before rising to mine once more, thinking about the baby.

Slowly Memnon nods. “Then I will see you in a little while, my queen. Until then, take care of yourself.”