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Chapter forty-eight

ATALIIA

I stumbled from the back of Essara’s dragon, my palms slamming into grass that was too soft.

Too alive.

A harrowing scream clawed from my lungs before I could stop it.

The gods were fucking cruel .

I could feel Dukovich’s hands slide down my back, his fingers wrapping around my waist as he fell to my side. He pulled me against his chest, and for the first time, I did not try to hide my pain from him.

My curses echoed through the sunlit sky, the calmness of Ithia’s air mocking the devastation that tore at my chest.

Andrues’s eyes connected with mine as he slid down the side of Nantia’s dragon, Wren’s lifeless body tucked against his chest. There was so much emotion burning behind his irises—so much pain.

The sorrow in his gaze gutted me, compounding my own until I felt as if I would crumble beneath the weight of it. But there was something else simmering beneath the surface, something that looked achingly like love.

I stared at Andrues, my eyes desperately searching his face, needing him in a way I have never needed anyone before.

He was the only one that knew me. The only person who had seen the hell that lived inside of me—the darkness that was fighting to crawl back to the surface and pull me under.

I couldn’t go back there.

I wouldn’t fucking go back there .

For only a moment, Andrues hesitated, as if he were about to run to me then pulled his gaze to Pri who stood in front of him with tears streaming from her eyes. Her face was hollow, her eyes holding no emotion, as if her own soul had left her body with Wren’s.

Slowly, he turned and walked away, Pri following silently behind him.

It was as if invisible chains kept me rooted to the spot, sprawled in Dukovich’s arms as silent tears streamed down my face. The agony in my chest was a living, breathing thing, clawing at my insides like an angry beast.

Wren was gone.

Gone .

Landers and Cin materialized at the edge of the field, Asrai and Yenne at their side. Relief flooded my body, my eyes locked on hers.

She ran to me, and in a second, I was on my feet sprinting toward her.

Wind ripped through my blood-stained hair as my hands reached for her, readying to pull her against me.

Our bodies collided with bruising force, sobs bursting from our lungs on impact as her hands frantically pushed my head into the crook of her neck.

Her heart beat in a wild rhythm against my own as my arms tightened around her waist, my fingers digging into her flesh to anchor me against her.

It was just me and her now.

We were the last two standing—the last two breathing.

Soft footsteps padded across the grass and I lifted my head just enough to see Asrai approaching through swollen, bloodshot eyes.

Her own gaze glistened like broken glass from the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

She placed a gentle hand on Cin’s back as she met my eyes, silent understanding passing between us.

We had all lost a part of ourselves today.

“We can not stay out in the open like this,” Asrai said quietly, her voice strained. “We need to get to shelter.”

Cin’s arms tightened around me for only a moment before she nodded and slowly released her hold on me. Her hand clasped tight around mine like she would never let it go again.

Together, we walked over to where Landers stood with the others. Without a word, he reached his hand out and Cin tangled her fingers between his.

The tether locked around us in a blur of wind and darkness and I let it thrash against my limbs—let it pull me apart. There was comfort in the pain; it distracted me from the anguish beating under my chest that I couldn’t escape.

We materialized in the center of Cin and Landers’s living room, sunlight streaming through the windows as our boots landed on the worn wooden floors. The heaviness plaguing the air grew thicker with each person that tethered in as if it were trying to suffocate us.

My eyes met with Dukovich’s as he tethered across the room, his tunic shredded and bloody, fresh scars strewn across his chest from where Cin had healed him.

My heart swelled against my will as I looked at him.

It was the second time he had risked his life for me.

The second time he had shown me that he was not willing to let me die.

Slowly, he slipped through the group toward my side, his eyes never straying from mine—never looking away.

Cin’s hands slid from mine, and as she stepped away from my side, his fingers took her place.

I hated how much the warmth of his skin soothed me. The relief I felt knowing that he was still here, that we had survived those dungeons together.

My eyes trickled over the room, watching as Azeyr, Siggy, Nantia, and Essara whispered to each other over the bar cart as they poured themselves a drink.

I didn’t trust them. And I sure as hell didn’t want them anywhere near the conversation we were about to have.

But before I could utter a single word, Andrues tethered into the room.

His eyes locked on mine for only a breath before sliding to my hand clutching Dukovich’s and went wholly still.

My heart jolted at the look that flashed behind his eyes.

Heat burned underneath my skin as I instinctively pulled away from Dukovich, putting distance between me and both the men.

I couldn’t deal with this right now. There were too many emotions flooding my body, too many feelings forcing their way into my chest and my heart wasn’t big enough to hold them.

I didn’t want them, any of them.

I didn’t want to feel anything .

Asrai’s voice cut into the room and I thanked the gods for the interruption.

I wasn’t safe inside my own head, not right now.

“I know this loss feels like it could break us, like we will never recover. But we cannot let it—not now. Not when the fight has just begun.” Asrai looked at each of us in turn, a tear finally breaking free from the corner of her eye.

She did not move to wipe it away. “Wren was my child, my son —” Her voice cracked on the word and the sound could have killed me.

“Wren sacrificed his life for us, for a chance at a better future. We owe it to him, to Ardan, to everyone we have lost to keep going.” Tears flowed down both of her cheeks in tandem now, and I couldn’t stop the anger the sight caused.

She was our mother.

She was the only mother we had ever known and her children were being slaughtered—hunted.

“Wren and Ardan,” she started again, her voice thin, “they are together now—their souls reunited—and there is hope in that thought. We cling to it like our very lives depend on it, and when this is over, when the time comes, we will mourn them properly.”

Tears burned my eyes like poison as Pri’s face flashed into my mind. The thought sent my heart careening into the bottomless pit inside me, shattering on its way down and leaving shards lodged into my flesh.

She had only loved twice, and both men were taken from her by Ammord.

I had many reasons to want to tear the realms apart, to burn them to the fucking ground. But something in the thought of her pain, the strength it must have taken for her love again only to be rewarded with more heartache, made me think that maybe, Nimbria wasn’t worth saving.

I knew what she was doing right now.

Knew that she was sitting with Wren’s lifeless body wondering what she could have done to stop this. Wondering why her—why it had to be her. I’d been there before, and no one— no one —deserved that pain.

Yenne stepped forward on the tail of Asrai’s words, her cloudy eyes swirling like storm clouds as she clasped her hands in front of her.

I’d never seen her in anything other than her velvet dresses, but standing here in front of us clad in battle leathers that were the deepest amethyst I had ever seen, she looked almost frightening.

“I d’na ‘ave time ta give ye all ze back story, ‘n frankly it does’na matter why.

But I was asked ta create daemons to ‘elp find out who in Ammord ‘as been creatin’ zem.

Me daemons were able ta get in ze ‘Ouse of ‘Igh before ze fight started. All I was able ta gleen from zem before zey were killed is zat ze leaders, Oryn, Varah, ‘n Sovana are also daemons. Zey are not ze ones creatin’ zem.”

A collective gasp rippled through the room, shock and dread mingling with the grief already saturating in the air.

This was bad.

This was really fucking bad.

They’d said they were protected, that they were doing someone else’s bidding. But this . . . this meant they had no control. No control to stop the carnage even if they wanted to.

My mind reeled at Yenne’s revelation, pieces clicking into place while trying to thread together the missing information.

If the leaders of Ammord were daemons, puppets controlled by an unseen hand, then our fight had just become infinitely more complicated.

We weren’t just battling an enemy realm, we were up against a ghost pulling every single string.

“Who could be behind this?” Cin’s voice quavered, her fingers digging into Landers’s arm. “Who has the power to convince the leaders of Ammord to become daemons?”

Asrai shook her head, her eyes haunted. “I do not know. But whoever they are, they have been planning this for a long time —manipulating events, setting the stage for war and chaos since placing Taft with me as a child,” she started pacing as she spoke.

“They are patient, and patience in an enemy is dangerous.”

A heavy silence fell over the room as I watched every one of the steps Asrai took, my guts painfully twisting as the reality set in.

We couldn’t possibly win against these odds.

Andrues broke the silence, his voice hard as flint as his eyes avoided mine. “If whomever is creating them has already taken Ammord, then we have to assume they have taken The Silliands and Redelvtum as well. We need to find out who that is, and stop them before they can create more.”

“Easier said than done, brother,” Dukovich said as Andrues’s eyes snapped to him.