Page 63

The funeral dirge echoed through the amphitheater. Thirteen wagons rolled through the dirt, carrying the bodies of the fallen. Most bore rune-carved caskets—their occupants too mangled by the wraiths to be shown—but Estrella and Tristan lay in the open, dressed in their finest silks and bound with silver-gold thread.

I tried not to look at them. Their wagon had led the procession, following behind the kings and me along the winding road from Dawnspear to the amphitheater carved into the mountain’s base. Now, their loved ones would accompany them the rest of the way, escorting their bodies to family plots.

Nine soulbound pairs and three unbound vampires. Twenty-one Azarasians. The massacre at Duskfell had apparently claimed five times as many, but the Impire hadn’t experienced a single day of loss like this in nearly four centuries, not even during their sieges.

And that number didn’t include the humans and witches slaughtered or transformed.

I faced the stands, rising high into the sky around the circular field. The amphitheater had enough space for two hundred thousand, nearly the entire Azarasian population. Only half that number had attended today, but every one of them stood cloaked in black, silent while the last of the wagons departed.

There wasn’t a single silver, gold, or iron collar in sight.

Except mine.

I wasn’t the only one who noticed. The hairs on the back of my neck rose under the weight of all those luminous stares. I’d heard someone whisper something about it when I first entered, but the sharp cut of the Conqueror’s glare had silenced any further comments.

It didn’t stop them from looking. From wondering. I’d tried not to fidget through the entire ceremony, but I couldn’t keep my heartbeat from racing. That was as noticeable to a vampire as tapping feet or wringing hands.

All the Azarasians knew what the witches had done during the past two nights. But only a handful of the kings’ favorites knew what I had done. If everyone had known…

Stars, I’d have passed out from the weight of their glares. Even a half-dozen was nearly fatal.

But at least it was over. I hated that they made me attend this—which, of course, was exactly why I was here. I might have gotten out of killing the witches, but my punishment was still death.

Just in a different form.

“Nessa?”

I tore my gaze from the stands and glanced to my right. Luc, dressed fully in black. The dirge had ended, the last of the wagons gone from the amphitheater, and the vampires in the stands had begun shuffling to the exits. Luc had his hands locked behind his back as he watched me, watched his subjects. He wore the mask of the callous Conqueror.

Underneath the mask, his emotions gathered like pressure before a storm. Anger. Unease. The faintest thread of fear. All anchored by a relentless, possessive resolve. Because I was his. I would always be, no matter what happened between us. She could try to run a thousand times. Kill a thousand of my Imperial Guard. Stand watch over a thousand funerals. And Jules and I would still call her ours.

The bond demanded it.

And I didn’t want to resist—

I shook his thoughts away. Reading Luc was getting easier by the day as the soulbond settled between us.

I didn’t say anything. I stared back at him. I couldn’t fully remember the dream, but I’d never forget the way Luc had looked down at Corinne. The mother of his unborn child. The beautiful, fearless warrior. The Queen of Dusk That Never Was. I had already envied her beauty, but now I burned with jealousy.

She was everything I wasn’t and everything I wanted to be. Next to her, I’d never compare.

Yet I was Luc’s soulbound heartmate. The bond made him want me .

It was a hilarious twist of fate.

And I wished I didn’t feel any of that, but I did… and Luc knew it. Both kings knew. If I could read every buried emotion behind their masks, then they could see everything behind mine. My insecurity. My confusion. My self-loathing, desperation, and hope.

What a fucking mess.

After a moment, the King of Dusk simply beckoned me forward and started toward the tunnel, where two vampire attendants held Wrath and Cala’s reins.

Luc hadn’t let me stray further from him or Jules than a few feet since I woke. The bed had been cold when I struggled back to consciousness, a good eighteen hours after passing out. The kings had been in the other room of the den, having slipped away in the night. After they woke from our shared bloody nightmare, my dreams had followed them as they spoke with their council.

The funeral was just the first of today’s activities.

I obeyed, closing the short distance between myself and the King of Dusk. There was no point resisting. I had no power to resist. No energy, either. I might not have been injured physically or experiencing any pain thanks to a soothing rune, but the wounds from the last few days had left other, deeper scars.

Roxiana and Isabeau fell into step behind me. The Crown Chancellor and Crown General were still expected to attend to all their duties. Now those duties also included watching me. They had both dropped to their knees immediately upon entering the kings’ den, begging for forgiveness for letting me out of their sight and care.

This was their penance. If they hadn’t lost me while rescuing Sabas and Cédric, their punishment would have been far worse than guard duty.

Luc halted beside Wrath, the hellsteed greeting him with a firm butt of his head. He gave the beast’s snout a gentle rub, the faint warmth of his affection in my chest. Softer emotions had started creeping into my senses yesterday, but I hadn’t had the chance to really consider what that meant.

Despite everything, we were one small step closer to settling into heartmates.

When I reached his side, Luc didn’t move, didn’t look at me, but gestured to the stirrup. “Right foot first.”

I resisted the urge to glare, strained upward toward the pommel, and shoved my slipped foot into place. The stretch pulled at my hamstrings. If I were any shorter, I wouldn’t have managed at all.

I didn’t know why Luc bothered. I could get my foot in the stirrup, sure, but I didn’t have the upper body strength to haul myself onto a giant hellsteed.

His hands were on my hips a moment later. With one smooth lift, he boosted me up, and I swung my leg over the saddle. Luc settled behind me a second later, far more graceful.

I stayed stiff-backed in his arms, resisting the urge to sink into his warmth. This discomfort was different from the first time I rode with Luc, back when I thought he and Jules were lords. I still wasn’t at ease with their bodies, but that discomfort felt insignificant now.

I was made to lure them. I was a witch. I had tried to escape. I had failed.

I had nearly died.

Every fact, every truth of the last two days, sat between us, a heavy presence in our soulbond. The kings weren’t avoiding any conversation. They didn’t leave things left unsaid to fester… but this was festering anyway. Our issues couldn’t be reconciled with a conversation.

I wasn’t sure they ever could be.

My hands fisted around the pommel. I twisted, just enough to catch a glimpse of Jules standing in one of the archways beneath the stadium’s stone seating. His white-blond hair looked even paler against the black of his mourning clothes, the rubies in his ears gleaming like droplets of blood. He was speaking quietly with two other vampires, a silver-eyed woman with dark hair who looked familiar and a golden-eyed man with a shaved head.

After giving sharp nods to Jules’s words, the two Azarasians turned and slipped into the shadows of the corridor, disappearing from sight.

Bright golden eyes met mine.

In a blink, Jules stood beside Wrath. “Leaving without me? How rude, darling.”

Luc didn’t glance over. He pulled on his hellsteed’s reins, urging the beast into a steady walk. “You’ll catch up.”

“Sure,” Jules said, entirely unbothered, already mounting Cala in one fluid motion. “But it’s still not very nice.”

“Are Luisa and Nico leaving today?” Luc asked, his voice cool.

“Uh-huh,” Jules said with a nod. “They’ll take Toreth’s starcrater to Tenebra de Mar, then sail out to Surrosa. It shouldn’t take them too long to hunt down Baz and André.”

I turned my gaze forward, not even blinking at the names. More unfamiliar people and places. If I asked, they’d answer. But I didn’t care enough to ask. If it impacted my life, I’d find out then.

“They wouldn’t have to leave at all if you had Baz and André check in regularly like the other Blades.”

Jules’s sigh carried through the bond, tinged with an affectionate kind of annoyance. “You know Baz.”

“We’ve been their kings for four centuries,” Luc said.

Jules waved that comment away, like it was irrelevant. “I’m summoning them back, aren’t I?” He paused, but Luc didn’t reply. Jules released a long sigh. “They’re going to fucking hate this.”

I stayed quiet and let their conversation wash over me. We rode out from the amphitheater into the city streets, the rhythmic clop of hooves echoing off stone walls. Roxiana and Isabeau followed behind on their own hellsteeds, two Imperial Guard trailing after them.

My gaze wandered as we climbed the winding roads. Gilded bridges and stone paths snaked up the mountainside between buildings and estates of white stone. Every vampire we passed wore black, even those who hadn’t attended the funeral. They had all at least watched the procession through the streets.

The kings turned into a wide square, heading toward a massive runegate. We may have ridden down the mountain the regular way, but there was no need to spend hours going uphill when we could get there in seconds.

Pain lanced through my palm as Luc drew blood from his hand to activate the gate. With a shudder, the dark daemium surface became a bright square before a wall of roses.

I didn’t react as the runegate’s warmth washed over me. Much of the city still mourned below, but a few vampires and their thralls moved through Imperium Square. A cluster of them lingered near the rose-covered wall, watching—

Everything in me went still.

Watching two vampire warriors chain a naked, bleeding body to the wall near the gilded Sun Gate.

Maire. Hundreds of cuts lined her pale skin, but she should’ve been far more bloody. She would’ve been, if the kings hadn’t drained her nearly to death the day before. Her once-vibrant golden-blond hair was matted, tangled enough to obscure her face. Thankfully. I didn’t want to see her expression.

Because she twitched.

Even from here, I could see the two runes glowing on her chest. Suspend. Endure. A pang knifed through my chest, but just beneath my revulsion came a grim satisfaction. It wasn’t mine. It sank into my gut anyway, warping my horror into something uglier.

I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t help but watch. “Will she hang from the wall for years, suffering for eternity like your father?”

Jules snorted. “Preserving my father’s body takes more than two runes. I have to protect him from birds, maggots, the weather… I don’t care enough to waste my power on that traitor.”

Luc’s voice rumbled behind me. “Once the crows eat enough of her, she’ll die.”

I swallowed hard. I didn’t want to ask how long that would take. I didn’t want to know. Maire had tried to kill me. I’d never forgive her for that.

But a day later, outside the haze of numb shock, I understood why she’d done it.

If the kings hadn’t reached me in time, I’d have died—and I’d have taken them with me. Would the Impire be any safer for humans afterward? Probably not. Other vampires would take the kings’ place, even if they couldn’t recreate the covenant. Until humans found a way to eradicate demons and their ilk—a hopelessly impossible task—we would always be subjugated.

They . They would always be subjugated. I wasn’t human. I wasn’t a thrall.

As we passed through the gate, my stomach turned. “There’s no reason to make her suffer like that.”

Two heavy gazes landed on the back and side of my head. I stayed rigid in the saddle. Luc stayed quiet, his stillness edged with conviction. Jules didn’t speak either, but something darker simmered beneath his calm, a hunger to see Maire suffer more. Neither of them judged the knot of guilt inside me. But they didn’t share it. They couldn’t. Not after what she’d done.

Luc’s reply was simple, absolute. “She nearly killed us.”

I gritted my teeth. There was no point arguing with them. Their minds were set. Maire had tried to kill them. The Conqueror and the Butcher would never treat murder with mercy.

As we reached the forecourt, vampire attendants bustled before the steps to Dawnspear’s red door. A long row of carriages and wagons looped around the body-speared fountain, a grim monument at the center of the chaos. Azarasians moved in and out of the castle, hauling trunks and crates, loading each cart to the brim.

Because we were leaving.

The kings hadn’t told me, but I had listened in on them making the decision in my dreams. The courts had just moved to Montaurère for the spring and summer seasons a couple months ago, not set to return to Tenebra de Mar until the fall. But Duskfell had been the kings’ permanent home for the first century of their lives. Retreating to the familiar in times of upheaval made sense.

Especially when that familiar was built onto a starcrater that Luc could partially control, thanks to his sire. I didn’t exactly know what that meant, but I was sure to find out if Allegra planned another attack.

Not that it was confirmed she had anything to do with the delegation’s actions. Morrena had sworn she hadn’t seen her sister and had been under the control of an obedience rune, bleeding at the end of the Butcher’s blade. But the kings didn’t like the timing.

But another wagon off to the side caught my eye. This one wasn’t like the kings’ ornate transportation wagons, but more like the plain wooden ones used to collect the harvest. The benches along either side were lined with thralls wearing silver, gold, and iron collars, each marked with glowing runes.

Suppress. Submit. Obey.

It was a wagon full of witches.

My frown deepened. I hadn’t heard anything about that. “Are you removing all witches from the castle?”

Silence.

I twisted around. The kings didn’t glance at each other, but their expressions turned eerily blank. Not that they could hide from the bond. Cold resolve radiated from both of them, threaded with the faintest edge of discomfort. It wasn’t guilt. They didn’t do guilt. But they knew their answer would land like a blow.

My stomach dropped.

“We’re leaving Montaurère for Tenebra de Mar,” Luc said, tone even. “Most of the courtiers will travel back with us, but we’re sending a battalion of warriors east to Isaura. Their delegation rebelled. Their people may do the same.”

“So they’re taking the witches back with them?” I asked, already bracing for the answer.

“They’re sacrifices for the starcrater’s runegate.”

I twisted so fast I nearly slipped from the hellsteed. Luc’s hands caught my waist, steadying me before I could fall. I slapped them away without thinking. The King of Dusk’s gaze flattened. Jules just chuckled, but it didn’t hide the quiet strain in him.

Their responses only made me angrier. “You’re going to sacrifice the castle’s witches to the starcrater so your warriors can get to Isaura faster?”

Luc glared down at me. “And so we can get to Duskfell faster, as well.”

My heartbeat stuttered. “How many lives will that cost? Holding the gate open for an army and the entire Courts of Dusk and Dawn?”

“We don’t have nearly enough sacrifices for the entire Courts of Dusk and Dawn,” Jules said. “Only the army, our favorites, and the palace staff will take the runegate.”

“And? How many lives will that cost?”

“All of them,” Luc said.

The words hit like a slap. Something inside me jolted. I felt untethered again, almost like yesterday after Maire’s attack. Like Luc’s voice had severed the anchor holding me in my body.

I fought through the fog clawing at the edges of my mind. Now was not the time to dissociate. “You’re going to kill every witch thrall in Dawnspear?”

Jules dismounted Cala as a handful of attendants broke off from packing the carriages, approaching the kings and dropping into a bow. “Half of the witches in Dawnspear are dead after last night. He meant all the harvested witches in the city.”

All the harvested witches in the city .

The words echoed in my skull, ringing louder and louder. Oh, stars. I stared at him, dread pooling in my belly.

Luc dropped to the ground a moment later, looking up at me with those molten silver eyes. Jules was uneasy at my reaction, but Luc remained resolute. “I’m not taking the risk that they weren’t involved. If their everlife runespells are hidden under a glamour, we won’t know until it’s too late.”

“You’ll find out when you kill them at the starcrater!” The words burst from me, a shout through the forecourt. Eyes flickered to me, from the attendants, from the guards, from the witches. I met their gazes, the fear in them clear. And in some… resignation.

They’d known death was coming the moment they heard about the delegation’s rebellion.

I hadn’t.

I was a fucking fool.

Hands settled around my waist. Luc didn’t bother instructing me to climb down from Wrath’s back. He knew I wouldn’t respond. Blood rushed through my veins, the sound pounding in my ears. My breath came in short pants. I should have surrendered to the fog. Better that than this panic, this horror.

“The starcrater will absorb their lifeforce,” Luc said. “Their deaths can’t fuel their transformation if they’re powering our transportation runespell.”

I pulled from his grip. Or, at least, I tried. “What are the chances they’re all wearing everlife runespells? Maire said Morrena and the delegation only cast them after I deactivated their obedience runes.”

“Slim,” Luc replied, placing one hand firmly on my lower back as he guided me toward the castle. “But slim isn’t zero. We aren’t taking the risk.”

I wanted to dig my heels into the dirt, but Luc would throw me over his shoulder. “You’re talking about killing hundreds of people.”

“Luc and I would kill a million mortals to keep our Impire safe,” Jules said, appearing at my other side. His arm wrapped around my shoulder, caging me between them. “To keep our soulbond safe.”

Tears prickled at my eyes. Fuck this life. Fuck these vampires. Fuck everyone and everything. “You’re evil.”

Jules only sighed. “If this makes us your villains, we’ll gladly play the role.”

I stopped abruptly. “No.”

The kings halted, too. They didn’t drag me forward. For the moment, at least. Their hands still braced me, the three of us locked shoulder to shoulder.

“No?”

I refused to cower under Luc’s chilling tone, under their height and strength and power. I forced my spine straight and lifted my chin. “No.”

Heat sparked in my belly. No, theirs . But even the barest flicker of their desire was enough to feed my own. My nipples budded. My clit throbbed. I clenched my thighs.

Why did arguing always make us want to fuck?

The corner of Luc’s lip curled. “This isn’t your decision, little witch.”

My fists balled at my sides. I panted hard, part rage, part grief, part lust. “Please.”

Jules tilted his head. “What will you offer us in return?”

Luc frowned at his soulbound. “This isn’t negotiable, Jules.”

“Everything is negotiable.”

I glanced between them. If it could save the Isaurans, what was I willing to give? I didn’t know those witches. Their delegation had betrayed me.

But hundreds didn’t deserve to die for the crimes of a few. “What do you want?”

Jules pursed his lips, eyes narrowing in thought. Then he grinned, mischievous delight pulsing through him. When Luc arched his brow, Jules said, “If we can’t take the starcrater, we’ll have to take the road to the Capital of Dusk. And if we do, I want to fuck you against every boulder between here and Tenebra de Mar.”

I stared.

Blinked.

Oh .

I shouldn’t have been intrigued by that. I was bartering for the lives of innocents with my captors . But the trickle of warmth in my core became a rush I couldn’t stop. Luc’s nostrils flared, his pupils swallowing the silver. Jules’s gaze was already pitch black.

I cleared my throat. “Every… boulder?”

“Every.” Jules leaned closer. “Single.” His breath brushed my lips. “One.”

Fuck. I clenched my hands in front of me, before I did something stupid like grab him. “Isn’t that dangerous? There are wraiths and hellbeasts.”

Jules waved away my concern. “That’s not a problem for us. Might be a fun distraction between boulders.”

The fire burned hotter, invading my chest. “How…” I licked my lips. I couldn’t believe I was considering this. “How do you define a boulder?”

There was pride behind Luc’s smirk. “Good, you’re learning.”

“You won’t like the answer, though,” Jules added.

The kings met each other’s eyes for a second. Then Luc said, “A boulder is any rock big enough for you to sit on.”

I swallowed. “That’s too many.”

Jules chuckled. “I would’ve said every single rock, so he’s being generous.”

“We’d never get there if we fucked against every rock,” Luc said.

“We would.” Jules paused, considering. “Eventually.”

“Will you both fuck me against every boulder,” I asked carefully, “meaning I get fucked twice at every stop, or is it once per boulder regardless of… er, who’s involved?”

I can’t believe I just said that aloud.

“Even if you only have one cock inside you, we’ll both be involved, lovely.”

Luc considered us both. “I’d like to arrive within two weeks.”

“Fine,” Jules said. “Once against every rock you can sit on, with a maximum of five per day.”

“Three,” I countered.

“Five,” Luc repeated, firm.

Fuck me. But if it saved lives, it saved lives. And it wouldn’t cost me anything more than my dignity. “And in return, you won’t sacrifice the witches to the starcrater?”

Jules’s smile widened. There was something nearly… malicious in the grin. It was the satisfied smirk of a cat who had his mouse cornered and exactly where he wanted it. “Precisely.”

I closed my eyes. I can’t believe I was saying this. “Those terms are acceptable.”

Jules and I looked at Luc. After a moment, the Conqueror nodded. “Very well.”

He turned his forearm upward and drew a rune of shadows over his golden-brown skin. Bargain . The shape shimmered the moment it was complete, pulsing once with heat before sinking into his flesh. He repeated the shape on Jules and then me. The rune warmed against my wrist, a silent reminder that the terms had been struck.

My body, traded for lives.

“Done,” Luc said simply, letting go of my wrist.

“Excellent.” Jules clapped before spinning on his heels. “Rox? Have them bring the witches back inside.”

My shoulders went slack. Thank the stars.

A silver-ringed knuckle bumped under my chin, tipping my face upward. “We leave in an hour.”

Oh. Heat rushed up my neck. I swallowed.

This was going to be a long two weeks.