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I groaned, rolling onto my side. The sheet beneath me was damp with sweat and stuck to my skin, audibly peeling away from my back. How I was so sweaty was beyond me when I felt like ice water had replaced the blood in my veins.

“She’s waking up,” someone said. Javier.

His voice was like a ghost haunting me from the past. It took my sluggish mind long seconds to recall that he was once again a part of my present. That, unlike all the other people I had lost, here was one I had actually found again.

“Soph?” Bastian said, and the mattress dipped behind me. I assumed the heated body curling around my backside belonged to him. Goddess, he felt hot enough that I wouldn’t have been surprised to see the cold sweat leaving my skin in a cloud of steam.

The pervasive cold sank further in, like it was diving deeper into me in an attempt to evade his heat. Shivering, I drew in my next breath through chattering teeth.

The mattress dipped again, this time in front of me, and I assumed another of my immortals had joined me on the bed.

“Open your eyes, child,” a woman said, her voice tickling the edges of my memory, though I couldn’t match it with a face or a name. Of one thing I was absolutely certain, she was not one of my immortals.

Curious, I peeled my eyelids open.

I absolutely did not recognize the face of the woman who sat beside me on the bed, hunched down to put herself closer to my level, but there was something familiar about her keen gaze. She was stunningly beautiful, with rich brown skin, copper eyes that seemed alight with an inner glow, and long, wild, dark auburn curls. My brow furrowed as I studied her features, imagining them wasted and wrinkled, her plump skin paper thin, her luxurious hair faded to fine silver strands.

My eyes narrowed, then widened, my brows rising. “Isador?” The wizened queen no longer appeared weak and ancient, but in the prime of her life. “How—”

A mysterious smile curved her rosy lips, and her eyes glittered knowingly. Immortal blood had revived her. Likely from one of her consorts.

With her silent confirmation, it was impossible not to imagine Isador communing with an immortal—or seven. “Oh,” I said, licking my lips. I cleared my throat.

Isador’s smile widened. She straightened up a moment later, her focus slipping away from me and shifting to various points around the room. It landed on something or someone beyond my feet.

I followed her line of sight, finding Javier standing beside the bed, his hands fisted at his sides and his face an unreadable mask.

“She’s stable now that she has emerged from the vision’s grasp,” Isador said.

Javier’s gaze locked with mine, and he clenched and unclenched his jaw.

“Let me just—” Isador reached out, gently tracing a sigil in the middle of my forehead with the tip of her index finger. Pressing her palm flush against the invisible sigil, she closed her eyes. Her lashes fluttered as scenes from the nightmarish vision flashed through my mind’s eye. Was she seeing what I saw? Was she experiencing the vision that had all but imprisoned me?

Gasping, Isador jerked her hand away, her eyes wide with horror. She paled as the blood drained from her face, and she swallowed roughly. She had seen my vision, and it was just as awful to her as it had been to me. Her reaction confirmed it.

“What does it mean?” I asked, my voice small. I was afraid to know.

“It’s an omen,” Isador said, then pressed her lips together and shook her head, like the vision hinted at something too horrific to even speak aloud. “Sent by the goddess herself.”

“Please.” I reached for her hand, but she pulled away, hastily scooting to the edge of the bed. “Please,” I repeated, pushing myself up onto one elbow as she stood. “Tell me.”

Isador’s gaze skittered around the room. She was clearly rattled. Finally, her attention returned to me, and she licked her lips. “A storm is coming, something dark and truly vile. That the gods showed you this vision means you have a chance to stop it—and also that they cannot.”

“How? How do I stop it?” I asked, my brow furrowing. “What is it?”

“The blood and fire were symbolic, but the demons—” Again, Isador shook her head. “I can’t be certain without doing some research and consulting the ancient queens, but I believe it means the Shadow King is once again attempting to pierce the barrier between worlds, and if he does…” She trailed off, her stare filling with an ominous warning. “You must train, child. Learn all you can. Become as strong as you can be—and do it quickly.”

“But you said—”

“I know what I said,” Isador snapped.

I sucked in a breath, startled by her harsh tone.

“But we’re facing the end of days, and we no longer have the luxury of educating you the right way,” she said. “You will train, day and night. You will commune with your consorts and learn as much as you can to increase your power until you’re the strongest High Queen who has ever lived, or the shadow will consume the earth, and we will all perish.”