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“So, who will take over?” Leo pressed.

“Ambrosias VI, exiled to Aquitania. Son of the burned king. He’ll be crowned soon and crush what remains of the Order. They’re over, Leo. We don’t have to worry anymore.”

A loud boom cracked through the sky, and Percival’s fiery display lit up the heavens—a dragon made of flames soaring above, its wings trailing gold. It swept over us, wings sparking.

The statues Cecily had sculpted gleamed under its light. A cloaked man held a serpent. The goddess of night stood by his side, a moon carved in her forest. The sea god, with hislong beard, stood beside the forest goddess, her face formed of twisting leaves. She’d even made a depiction of the sun god—transformed by the Order into the Archon, a sun symbol emblazoned on his chest.

The air felt charged with ancient magic. Earlier, I’d laid a wreath of white poppies at the foot of the serpent statue, an offering to the old god. I could have sworn I’d heard him whisper my name.

As I watched Percival’s fire art, Sion sidled up next to me. His golden gaze locked onto mine as I looked at him, his presence magnetic. Every inch of him screamedvampire king: his black suit, his rings glittering on every finger, his silver crown resting like a halo.

“Elowen.” His deep voice skimmed over my skin. “Your presence was missed tonight at the castle.”

I smiled at him. “I’ve been rather enjoying myself here.”

His smile was dangerous, seductive, full of unspoken promises. “And I rather like having you as close to me as possible.”

“What do you think about moving into the village with me? It’s cozy here.” I gestured to the cottages. “And the bakery smells amazing.”

“You don’t eat.”

“No, but I still like the smell.”

“I think the witches prefer to be vampire-free at night. And what does Veilcross have that my castle doesn’t? Acorn stew? Berry picking? Maybe a river to swim in half-naked, like when I found you?” His frown that had formed from my suggestion softened. “Actually, that part sounds quite appealing.” His gaze flicked to the statues. “They didn’t make a statue of me?”

“They’re gods.”

He sipped the wine that someone had brought him, his eyes glinting with mischief. “But you once called me one of theold gods yourself, Elowen. We’re indistinguishable, according to you.”

I nudged him with my elbow. “They’re real, you know. When we locked the Pater away, I felt the Serpent’s power in his temple. I see him in my mind when I use my magic. Our magic comes from them. I’m sure of it now.”

He tilted his head, the faintest trace of doubt still clouding his golden eyes. “Perhaps,” he mused. “But if you stay with me in my chambers, I know we can worship the goddess of love every night.”

I clamped my hands over Leo’s ears, but he pried them away. “Are we going to live in the castle?” the boy asked.

I smiled down at him. “You’ll stay here with the humans, my love. I’ll come see you every day, though.”

“But I still haven’t seen the vampire castle,” Leo said with a pout.

“Have you drunk your tincture?” I asked.

He wiped the sugared crust off his lips from the fruit tart. “Yes, I always drink it.”

Sion turned. “Let’s go. Elowen, I would never let anything happen to him.”

I hesitated, my heart tight in my chest. Then, knowing deep in my soul that Sion spoke the truth, I slowly reached for Leo’s hand, feeling the warmth of his small palm in mine. As my fingers curled around his, I realized for the first time that I had absolutely no fear of who I was anymore.

I was fully in control of my magic.

“Shall we go?” I said.

I took hold of Sion’s hand with my other, then led them both up the path, where white poppies bloomed on either side of the stones.

And as we walked Leo up toward the castle, the night sky twinkled with all the possibilities of the life we would build therein Gwethel. There was no need to fear the darkness anymore—death was fleeting when the gods burned so brightly inside us.