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“But it does concern me.” My eyes dropped to his chin and the haze of his chest in the background.

“When I sparred with my father, I even accused him of it—jokingly, of course. But it wasn’t a joke.

” My hand gently planted against his hard chest, and I expected to feel a heartbeat, but there was nothing but warm stone basking in the sun.

“I’ve always felt a special connection with my father.

He always told me how blessed he was to have me.

That I was a gift he’d prayed for. And he told me he’d always wanted a daughter, when most kings wanted sons and heirs.

But not him. I’ve never understood why.” I stared at his chest for several hard seconds, feeling the warmth slowly fade from his skin when I sucked it all away. My eyes lifted to his once more.

His eyes remained rigid in place, locked in the ironclad stare that he always gave me. It was equally possessive and gentle. His hand had gone still on my waist, and slowly, the heat from his palm started to fade.

“Do you know why?” His stare was as stoic, but a glint deep inside those eyes hinted at something more.

I wouldn’t have noticed it when we’d met or in the week that passed after, but now I knew him well enough to pick up on these slight changes in his mood.

I should only know his surface, but at some point, I’d descended beneath his waves and explored his depths.

His eyes remained hard and still, but the energy around him changed, seeped out of his skin and infected me.

“Will you tell me?”

“It’s not my place to share.”

My heart stiffened in my chest. Whatever had transpired with my father was more than a simple feeling. It was something physical, something that Wrath could see. “I wish I could talk to him about it. Wish I could talk to him about this too.”

“This?” he whispered.

“Us.” Sleeping with Wrath one time was the extent of my obligation, but now I couldn’t imagine ever asking him to leave. Couldn’t imagine replacing him with another man…one who had a heartbeat.

His range of expressions was limited, but he displayed hints of thoughts in the subtle movements of his eyes. “And what would be the contents of this conversation?”

“Despite your title, I don’t believe you’re evil.

” I’d seen no hint of malice since we’d met.

All I’d seen was a man literally part the sea to keep me alive.

A man make love to me like I was his wife rather than fuck me like I was his whore.

“Before I left these shores on my journey, he made me promise not to travel to your island. Demanded my oath like it was life-and-death. Perhaps your predecessor was different?—”

“He was vile and full of malice and absolute evil. This is a job I’m condemned to have, but for him, it was a hobby.”

Pity rose in my heart because I could feel the sincerity in his words. I could feel his goodness every time I touched his chest. Could feel a heartbeat that didn’t exist.

“I can’t tell you how your father would react to that provocation. I can’t see the future. But I can relive the past—and I can show you his story. Or you can wait until he’s ready to share it on his terms.”

I knew the right thing to do was to be patient and wait for my father to share it with me willingly.

But he’d told me he would tell me about the island when I returned, and he never did.

Whenever I asked him for details, he gave none.

I didn’t believe he hid the past from me maliciously.

It was just too hard to talk about. Maybe experiencing the past was the only way I’d be able to get my answers. “Show me.”

We left the villa and stepped into the courtyard. It was vacant except for the lit braziers, the enormous fires continuing to crackle and burn as a gust of wind passed through. It was a clear night, the stars unusually bright without the cloud cover.

Wrath was in his uniform once again, the enormous blade across his back, looking like a king who was about to conquer foreign lands. His cape moved behind him as he walked, and he was so tall and enormous that he looked like every soldier’s worst nightmare.

He stopped and stared at one of the olive trees.

If anyone entered the courtyard, they would see me standing there alone, without any purpose for being there in the middle of the night. The castle stood tall in the background, most of the windows dark except one or two.

Wrath turned back to me and gave me a hard stare in silence.

I’d become accustomed to that stare, but its potency still left me weak.

“Shall I proceed?”

I nodded.

He faced forward once again, and for a heavy moment, nothing transpired. The nighttime air was still quiet, the braziers crackled as they burned. It was a peaceful night, reminding me of a warm summer evening…but without the summer or the warmth.

And then it suddenly changed.

Trees that had been there since I could remember were gone.

The cloudless sky had suddenly become thick with smoke, so thick that the stars were hidden away behind the veil of destruction.

Shouts and screams came from the distance, somewhere below the cliff toward the village.

Luminous scales passed in the dark then disappeared.

I knew none of this was real, but I moved closer to Wrath anyway.

Then I heard a voice I’d recognize anywhere.

“ Roooooooaaaaaaaarrrrrrr !”

I jolted as I looked up into the sky and pictured the black scales in my mind, the mighty dragon that loved me like his own hatchling. I didn’t see him until he landed on the stone courtyard—and upon his back was my father.

My father didn’t climb from the saddle. He jumped straight down and landed hard on the stone, but he was on his feet a second later, like the distance of the fall and the weight of his armor and sword were inconsequential.

He unsheathed his blade and walked forward.

I took another step back…because I’d never seen my father look that way.

Since he didn’t age, his appearance was identical, but his spirit…

was one I didn’t recognize. Angry tears glistened in his eyes and nearly broke past his bottom lids.

His stare was an inferno that burned hotter than the fire in Khazmuda’s belly.

Fully sheathed in the black armor with the dragon crest in the center and his cape behind him, he was the mighty king I’d heard of in tales.

I recognized the moment based on the stories I had heard. It was the moment my father reclaimed the Southern Isles in his name, usurped the tyrant who had nearly condemned his homeland to extinction.

“Why are you showing me this?” I turned back to Wrath.

His eyes remained on my father as he walked past us. “You will see.”

I turned back to my father, who was rushed by a dozen soldiers in charge of protecting the castle.

I felt a jolt of fear when I watched him battle them single-handedly, and I reminded myself that I didn’t need to worry about the outcome of this battle.

With a ferocity he’d never shown me when we sparred, he cut down the soldiers like they’d personally wronged him.

And then they began to scream.

Soldiers who had just been executed sprang up from the ground and continued the fight—but against the other soldiers. The earth moved from the cemetery, and corpses that were mostly bones climbed out and surrounded the fray on all sides.

My eyes couldn’t believe what they were seeing—an army of the dead.

I moved close enough to Wrath that I could feel his arm. “What—what is happening?”

He didn’t answer.

The last soldier was slain and hit the ground, but then eyes snapped open once again, and he took his rank—behind my father.

My father stepped forward and drew closer to the double doors of the castle. In present times, it had the family name Rothschild carved into the wood. But at this time, there was a different name. Augustus.

“Fight me like a man, or die like a coward.” A gust of wind blew through and flapped my father’s cape into the air. He brandished his sword at his side, and even from the rear, he looked villainous. “ Barron! ”

I’d never seen my father so angry. Didn’t think he was capable of being that angry.

Then the doors slowly swung open, and the man I assumed to be Barron came forth, dressed in hard armor similar to my father’s, followed by his two sons.

Barron was a decade or so older than my father, at least in appearance.

He was heavier and looked unmatched athletically to battle my father with the sword.

But he was fused with a dragon, and using that reserve of power would make him formidable.

There was a silent standoff, and even though I knew the outcome of this, I held my breath anyway.

Barron was the first to speak. “I look upon the Death King, a necromancer who’s taken the Northern Kingdoms with fiery death. But I still see Talon Rothschild— a boy .”

I spoke in a hushed whisper, like the past would be able to hear me. “A necromancer…”

Barron unsheathed his blade and stepped forward. “You’ve come all the way here to join your kin— how touching .”

They exchanged more threats back and forth, and then the silence was interrupted by a roar from a dragon I didn’t recognize.

“ Rooooaaaaarrrrrr !” Nearly twice the size of Khazmuda, he appeared, going straight for Khazmuda in the skies above.

Fire from their mouths erupted and sprayed the courtyard, setting the trees and brush aflame.

Constantine tried to burn my father, but my father evaded the fire and regained his stance.

The place erupted in flames, and soon, every living thing was set ablaze.

The smoke was worse than it’d been moments ago, and now the sky was a combination of ash and fire.

Then I heard the drums.

Thump. Thump. Thump.