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“But it appears I have been mistaken. Penellaphe claims that not only is Malec alive, but that she knows where he is.” The Rev’s head cocked again as he focused on her. Isbeth appeared unaware. “She said she would kill him, and the moment Penellaphe starts believing in her power, she very easily could.” Her dark eyes fixed on mine. “Is it true? Does he live?”

Damn, Poppy really wasn’t messing around.

“It’s true,” I said softly. “He lives. For now.”

Her slender body practically hummed. “Where is he, Casteel?”

“Come on, Isbitch,” I whispered, leaning forward as far as I could. “You should know there is literally nothing you can do that will make me tell you that. Not even if you brought my brother in here and started cutting off pieces of his skin.”

Isbeth eyed me quietly for several long moments. “You speak the truth.”

I smiled broadly. I did speak the truth. Isbeth thought she could control Poppy through me, but my stunning, vicious wife had checkmated her ass, and there was no way in hell I would jeopardize that. Not even for Malik.

“I remember a time when you would’ve done anything for your family,” Isbeth said.

“That was a different time.”

“Now you will do anything for Penellaphe?”

“Anything,” I promised.

“Because of the opportunity of what she represents?” Isbeth suggested. “Is that what truly consumes you? After all, through my daughter, you usurped your brother and your parents. You are now a King. And because of her bloodline, she is the Queen. That would make you the King.”

I shook my head, unsurprised. Of course, she would think that what I felt had everything to do with power.

“You plotted for how long to claim her?” she continued. “Perhaps you never planned to use her to free Malik. Maybe you don’t even really love her.”

I held her stare. “Whether she ruled over all the lands and seas or was the Queen of nothing but a pile of ashes and bones, she would—will—always be my Queen. Love is too weak an emotion to describe how she consumes me and what I feel for her. She is my everything.”

Isbeth was silent for several long moments. “My daughter deserves to have someone care for her as fiercely as she cares for them.” A hint of faint silver glimmered in the center of Isbeth’s eyes, though not as vivid as what I saw in Poppy’s. Her gaze dipped to the band around my throat. “I never wanted this—this war with my daughter.”

“Really?” I laughed dryly. “What did you expect? For her to go along with your plans?”

“And marry your brother?” The light in her eyes intensified as I snarled. “Goodness, the mere idea of that gets to you, doesn’t it? If I had killed you when I had you the last time, then he would’ve aided her Ascension.”

It took everything in me not to react—not to attempt to rip her heart from her chest. “You still wouldn’t have what you wanted. Poppy would’ve figured out the truth about you—about the Ascended. She already was, even before I came into her life. She never would’ve let you take Atlantia.”

Isbeth’s smile returned, though tight-lipped. “Do you think that all I want is Atlantia? As if that is all my daughter was destined for? Her purpose is far greater. As was Malik’s. As is yours now. We are now a part of the greater plan, and all of us, together, will restore the realm to what it was always meant to be. It has already begun.”

I stilled. “What in the hell are you talking about?”

“You’ll see in time.” She rose. “If my daughter truly loves you, this will pain me in ways I doubt you’ll ever believe.” She turned her head slightly. “Callum?”

The golden Rev stepped around Jalara’s head, careful not to brush against it.

My gaze snapped to him. “I don’t know you, but I’m going to kill you, too, one way or another. Just thought I should let you know that.”

He hesitated, his head cocking to the side. “If you only knew how many times I’ve heard that,” he said, a slight smile forming as he withdrew a slender shadowstone blade from the strap across his chest. “But you’re the first I think might actually succeed.”

The Rev snapped forward then, and my world exploded in pain.

Chapter 2

Poppy

Through the maze of the pines outside the walled city of Massene, I caught sight of a silver and white wolven pacing ahead.

Arden kept low to the thick bushes cluttering the forest floor and soundlessly moved as he neared the edges of the Pinelands. The long and wide region of swampy woods bordered both Massene and Oak Ambler and stretched all the way to the coast of the Kingdom of Solis.

The land was full of insects that smelled of decay and fed from any visible patch of skin with the hunger of a Craven. There were things to be found slithering along the mossy ground if one looked long and hard enough. And in the trees, crude circles made of sticks or bones, vaguely resembling the Royal Crest of the Blood Crown, except that the line was at a slant—diagonal—as it pierced the center of the circle.