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“What?” He frowned. “What rhyme?”

“The pretty poppy one. Pick it and watch it bleed.” I searched his features.

“If that’s a rhyme, it sounds about five levels of fucked up,” Malik said. “But I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve never even heard anything like that.”

The battlements of the Rise surrounding Padonia came into view as we crested the rocky hill the following morning. Anticipation and resolve rose swiftly, as did a bit of awe. The Wisteria Woods I’d seen the night before now crowded the earthen road and the city of Padonia itself, their trailing limbs of varying shades of blue and purple giving way to the deep crimson of the outer edges of the Blood Forest.

Poppy was clearly taken with the beauty, her gaze crawling over every inch of the landscape. I hoped it helped her forget that we’d passed the road to Lockswood no more than an hour ago. Her shoulders hadn’t relaxed until the wisterias became more visible. Still, she’d been quiet most of the morning.

Shifting in the saddle, I glanced over at Malik. Between our conversation last night and the upcoming reunion with our father, I was caught up in my head and hoping to the gods that I wasn’t making a huge-ass mistake by removing the bone chain from his wrists and allowing him to ride freely.

I just hadn’t wanted our armies’ first sight of their Prince to be one of him in chains.

Poppy folded a hand over the arm I’d encircled her waist with as she turned to the side, looking up. “Are you okay?”

“Not sure,” I admitted, glancing down at her. “Been thinking about what I’m going to say to my father.”

“What have you come up with?”

“Nothing that’s suitable for repeating,” I said with a dry laugh.

She glanced forward as the bridge over the River of Rhain became visible through the twining vines of bluish-purple. “We can delay this if you need more time.”

“We don’t need to do that.” I kissed the top of her head. “It’s best if I get this over with.”

The tops of many of the tents became visible, and it looked as if the bulk of the armies had camped outside the Rise. A risky move, but one that had most likely been decided in favor of not destroying the fields inside.

From the town, a low, rumbling roar gained our attention. I slowed the horse as Kieran stopped alongside us, the sound of hooves and paws reaching our ears. “We’re about to have company.” I squeezed her hips and then dismounted. I reached for her, and she placed her hand in mine without question or hesitation. The horse we rode was only now getting used to Kieran in his wolven form, and I had a feeling we were about to be swamped by many more. I didn’t want him throwing Poppy.

Her lips pursed. “I still cannot believe I don’t have better hearing or vision. Ridiculous.”

“Or shift into anything,” I reminded her as the noise grew louder, closer.

“That, too.”

“You’re perfect as you are.” I bent, kissing the corner of her mouth. “Average hearing and all.”

“That was corny,” she said, grinning as she peered at me through a fringe of lashes with those fractured green-and-silver eyes. “But cute.”

A white wolf was the first to burst through the wisteria vines, racing straight toward us. There was no stopping my smile as Delano all but launched himself in my direction.

“Oh, dear,” Poppy murmured, calming the nervous horse.

I caught the damn wolven, laughing as I stumbled back. Delano wasn’t the largest wolven by any means, but he was still heavy as an ox and strong as one, too. I ended up on one knee and tried to—well, calm the furry, wiggling mass that was Delano as he pressed his head into mine.

“Missed you, my man.” Clasping the sides of his head, I held him tightly until a fawn-colored wolven identical to Kieran but smaller in weight and height nudged him out of the way.

My chest warmed as I embraced Netta. She was a little less sedate in her eagerness, only nearly toppling me on my ass once. “Missed you, too.”

“What about me?” came a drawl.

I smoothed a hand over the top of Netta’s head as I said, “Didn’t think about you once, Emil.”

“Ouch,” the Atlantian said with a laugh, and then in a softer voice, I heard him say, “I knew you would get him.”

Looking up, I saw the auburn-haired bastard take Poppy’s hand in his and hold it to the gold and steel armor adorning his chest. For once, I didn’t want to punch his throat through his spine. Only because the adoration in his stare was that of respect.

And because he released her hand quickly.

Other wolven surrounded me, and I gave up, remaining on my knee as they each came to either brush against me or push their head against mine. I gladly waited. For a wolven to do such a thing was a sign of respect, and I was honored to be on the receiving end.