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But no. I hadn’t activated that part of myself. This was coming from somewhere I couldn’t define. A link I had no idea existed. A connection created by my soul.

If Vivaxia saw it, she didn’t comment. Instead, she blew the dust away from the throne—dust that used to resemble a king—and sat on it with a sigh.

She needs the conduit to stay in this realm, I deduced. That’s Typhos’s power, and it’s operating as a leash .

For now, anyway.

Because I could see her absorbing the power of everything and everyone around her, could feel her testing my own aura with her ability, too.

Mentally, I redirected her effort, her energy oddly tangible in my mind. Just like everything else around us. I couldn’t tell if I was just more in tune with my siphoning talent or if this was a gift from Typhos’s Source.

Vivaxia arched a brow. “Well, that’s new.” She crossed her long legs and leaned back in the throne, her wings nowhere in sight. She seemed to be recovering from something.

Had the walk into the hallway drained her of energy? That would make sense with the throne being her proverbial leash. So what happens when the conduit runs out of power?

It seemed to be fizzling out near the base, Typhos’s energy barely hanging on.

What would happen then? Would she start absorbing the souls of the Strigoi? Was that their purpose here?

I suspected she needed Typhos for something. Only, he was nowhere in sight.

Because he fell , I realized, noting the hole in the wall. A hole that was framed with burn marks similar to those of that crater out by the fountain.

All the pieces seemed to come together in my mind—Typhos knocking himself out and relinquishing his hold on his Source. Which allowed his Source to prosper without his influence.

And now his Source was talking to me.

Filling me with knowledge.

Granting me access to Typhos’s memories.

Turning me into a live version of Vita .

Only it was more than that. With each passing moment, I felt more and more powerful. Like the Hell Fae Source was forcing me to absorb energy, just as Typhos had done while pushing me to my limits this week.

Except this was more gradual. More intentional .

However, I had no idea what to do with it. If the Source fed me too much, I’d be at risk of opening that connection deep inside me to Vivaxia.

Is that actually the point? I wondered. Is she doing this?

My head spun with theories, making me miss whatever she’d just said out loud.

Several things, actually.

She’d been talking this whole time, and I’d been too lost in my thoughts to hear her.

And the thunderous expression on her face told me she didn’t appreciate it one bit.

I cocked my head. “You don’t like being ignored, do you?” I wasn’t sure why the taunt left my mouth, but it felt right.

This bitch had created me to be her little toy. Her siphon . And I really wasn’t interested in playing along.

My parents had taught me to fight authority. To think of only myself. To put myself first.

Hell Fae Rule #6: Only Look Out for Yourself—No One Else.

A whole slew of rules followed that one in my mind.

Hell Fae Rule #3: Know Your Enemy Before Engaging.

Hell Fae Rule #4: Don’t Trust Anyone.

Hell Fae Rule #5: Be Prepared for Anything.

Hell Fae Rule #1: Don’t Die.

That last one echoed the loudest. It was a rule I fully intended to take to heart.

So I guess the rules still apply , I thought.

Maybe it’d been seeing my mother that had triggered them to possess more meaning. Maybe it was just my own rebellious spirit. Or maybe I needed the reminders to ground me in the moment.

All the power swimming around me was enough to make me feel a million miles away, to toss me into a torrent of energy and never resurface.

But I had to focus.

To find Typhos.

To save the Hell Fae Realm.

I nearly blinked at that last notion. It’d come from a deep part of me, the part connected to Typhos’s Source.

Whatever Vivaxia was doing on that throne was threatening the realm’s existence. Typhos’s Source. Typhos himself.

Which meant she was threatening my mates.

And me .

I narrowed my gaze. “You don’t belong here, Vivaxia.”

She released a surprised laugh. “You’re just as ungrateful as your mother,” she informed me, her voice seeming to caress every inch of the room.

The stone in my palm burned again, reacting to her voice. Or maybe reacting to her words.

I again wondered at its sentient-like response, but I was too focused on Vivaxia now to ponder it more.

“You two only exist because I created you,” she went on, sounding imperial as fuck. “That means I own you both. Your souls. Your mind. Your power .”

Pain rippled from my chest on that last word, the term seeming to strike me physically in the heart.

“You’re mine , Camillia De la Croix. Just like Nos and all his Strigoi. Just like Azazel. Just like every other creature I’ve ever brought into existence.”

My knees threatened to buckle as she twisted her hold on my insides, the protective shell I’d imagined no longer in existence.

It was as though she’d penetrated my very being with a simple thought.

Because she had.

Because she could .

I’d been so seduced by Typhos’s influx of power that I’d felt invincible. But Vivaxia had fixed that naive notion with a single fucking word.

Agony shot through my being as she canted her head, the simple motion seeming to curl her power inside me more.

“It’s really quite simple, darling,” she murmured, her tone turning matronly.

“I’m your Goddess . The one you’re meant to worship.

To serve . All it takes is a thought, and suddenly you’ll forget how to breathe. ”

My hand shot up to my throat in response, my lungs ceasing to function.

All the while, the death stone thrummed against my opposite palm, reminding me of its existence. But I wasn’t sure how the hell it was supposed to help when I couldn’t inhale or exhale.

“Another thought could stop your heart,” she went on, her tone underlined with boredom.

“It’s just so easy. And, actually, it’s not only my creations that I control, but every single one manifested by my fallen Virtuous Fae.

” A little giggle escaped her as she lifted her hand to reveal a swirl of gray energy.

“Their essences reside in me now, as do the strings to their nightmarish puppets.”

It took me a moment to process what she was saying, my mind somewhat preoccupied with my frozen lungs.

But slowly, I began to weave together her words with what I’d seen of the Virtuous Fae Realm. And my mother .

Parts of her had resembled a ghost.

A husk.

That’d been the wispy sounds I’d overheard—the husks of fallen Virtuous Fae.

Similar to the one mere feet from me now, only those ash-like remnants were the remains of a Strigoi King.

She’s absorbing all their powers and killing their corporeal forms.

Like Typhos did to his parents.

Only she was doing this intentionally .

And she clearly had no interest in using her power for the greater good.

She was a dark soul.

An evil being.

A true fucking monster.

And I have no idea how to stop her.