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C ora’s lungs heaved with trembling breaths, a muffled scream building in the back of her throat. She watched the meadow, vaguely noted the flames, the figures, but her brother’s face was all she could see. The sight of it replayed before her eyes like a grotesque tableau, along with one undeniable truth.

Her brother was dead.

There was no way around it. She knew what the creature was. She knew what it meant to see Dimetreus’ face protruding from the monster’s skull.

Morkai had made her brother into a Roizan.

Along with Kevan, Ulrich, and Verdian.

He hadn’t simply murdered those who stood in the way of his goals. He’d violated them. Twisted their bodies with blood magic.

She’d seen the process in the book she’d burned.

Two animals locked in battle.

Two animals dead.

Two animals reborn as one.

What did it mean that this Roizan had four faces? Animal parts from at least four different creatures? Had they all died at the same time, in the same battle, to create this abomination? Or had he created Roizan after Roizan, and pitted them against one another?

It didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered.

Dimetreus…was dead.

She’d known the creature that had emerged from the trees was a Roizan, even before she’d caught a clear glimpse. It had plodded toward her cliff, and she’d watched it with bated breath, inching closer and closer to the edge for a better look. As soon as it had passed beneath where she stood, it paused, turning its monstrous face toward her. That was when she’d seen it. The faces. Her brother.

It had let out a bellowing roar then, one that had sent her stumbling back, clutching the nearest tree for stability. When next she dared look at the meadow, it was gone.

Gone.

Dimetreus was gone.

She heard another roar, this one from the other side of the meadow. The sound sent a shudder up her spine, a sensation so violent it sharpened her senses. Cut through her sorrow. Reminded her why she was here.

For Teryn.

If the Roizan was here, so was Morkai. So was Teryn.

She forced herself away from the tree and crawled back to the edge of the cliff. Fire leaped from a mangled tent, and the Roizan now circled a figure. Moonlight glinted off pale hair. Mareleau. The queen had fallen to her knees, eyes empty as the monster with her father’s face paced around her.

Cora’s heart stuttered at the sound of Teryn’s voice. It carried over the sound of crackling flames, but it was spoken with the sorcerer’s lilt. “Ah, you’ve found her. Very good.”

She squinted into the dark until she caught sight of Teryn’s body stalking toward Mareleau and the Roizan. Another figure trailed behind, steps uneven, hand clutched to his chest.

King Larylis.

Morkai held his hand open to the side, palm facing up. Cora leaned closer to the edge. She couldn’t see what he held, but she could guess. Now that Morkai had his Roizan, he could perform far more impressive feats of magic than he’d been able to without it. A ball of blood likely hovered over his hand, and based on how Larylis clutched his chest, it belonged to him.

Larylis doubled over and fell to his knees.

Mareleau let out a cry.

“Now,” Morkai said, “it’s time for us to come to an agreement.”

Mareleau didn’t know what was worse: her father’s lifeless face used as a monster’s eyes or her husband’s peril. The beast rounded behind her, giving her a clear view of Larylis. His shoulder dripped red, a gash splitting his sleeve. His face was twisted in agony. The way his fingers clawed at his sternum suggested he was fighting some invisible internal affliction.

Rage built alongside her terror, and she shifted her attention to the man who stood before her. He stared down his nose at her, a strange red bead hovering an inch above his open palm. He showed no fear for the beast that circled her, no concern for the flames that steadily burned away more and more of her tent. Pain pierced her heart as she remembered the gift she’d unwrapped not long ago, the beautiful blanket her father had given her, a symbol of his forgiveness and affection, now lost forever to the flames.

“What are you doing, Teryn?” She spoke with a quaver, fueled by equal parts fear and rage.

“He isn’t Teryn,” Larylis said, voice weak, strangled between his teeth.

Teryn shifted to the side to assess him. An amused grin curled his lips. “No?”

“I don’t know how it’s possible,” Larylis said, “but you’re Morkai.”

The name echoed in Mareleau’s head. It belonged to the duke who’d orchestrated the battle at Centerpointe Rock. The one who’d cursed Cora to never bear children.

She stared at the man who wore Teryn’s face. It was impossible. Or it should have been. Aside from the graying hair, the pallor of his skin, and the overall signs of ill health, this was Teryn.

But his actions, his words, the subtle changes in his personality over the past week…

Not to mention the monster with four faces. A creation that shouldn’t exist.

Larylis was right. He had to be. Somehow, this man was the former Duke Morkai brought back to life.

Larylis pinned Morkai with a scowl. “Where is my brother?”

Morkai patted his chest. “In here. This remains his body somewhat, though it won’t be for long.”

Larylis shifted, wincing as he tried to get a leg underneath him to stand, but Morkai curled his fingers inward toward the ball of blood. Larylis clutched his chest again and slumped back on his heels.

“Lare!” Mareleau tried to crawl forward but was intercepted by the creature. It pinned her beneath her father’s empty gaze and sent her scrambling back. It rounded behind her again, returning her view of Larylis and Morkai. The sorcerer’s eyes remained on her husband, that crimson ball still hovering over his hand. Was Morkai using the ball of blood to hurt Larylis somehow? To render him immobile?

Meanwhile, she was unscathed, guarded only by the monster. While the beast was terrifying, she realized something: Morkai didn’t see her as a threat. Not the way he saw Larylis.

Of course Morkai wouldn’t consider her a threat. He didn’t know her. To him, she was just a simpleminded, pampered queen. He couldn’t possibly know the full depths of her history. Her viciousness. The people she’d hurt. Lied to. Manipulated.

She could use that. The protective fire rekindled in her chest, her belly, encouraging her. Panic clawed her bones, but she could use that too. She could use all of it.

“What do you want from us?” she asked, letting her voice quaver even more, letting tears trail down her cheeks. Through her terror, she sought her trusty magic trick . Where normally she used it to don a confident outer shell, she used it for the opposite effect now.

Weak , she thought. Frightened. Soft. Desperate . The facade tugged her shoulders to her ears, raised the pitch of her voice, turned down the corners of her eyes. She hunched over the earth where she kneeled, hands digging into the soil as if she could barely hold herself up.

Morkai took a few steps closer to her. “Do not weep, Your Majesty. With your father’s death, you’ve added yet another kingdom to your reign. Is power not worth celebrating? You are now Queen of Menah and Queen of Selay. I asked you before what you’d call your new kingdom once the two merged as one. Have you decided yet?”

“Why would I even think about such a thing at a time like this?” Her voice edged on hysteria. It was an honest illustration of her current state, but with her mind focused on crafting a weak outer persona, it helped her pretend it wasn’t. Helped her detach. Feel like she was in control. “My father is dead. I don’t care about what that means for me as queen.”

Morkai gestured toward Larylis. “With your marriage, your husband has inherited a new kingdom as well. Your father was ambitious in setting you up as queen of one kingdom while keeping you as heir to another. It isn’t unheard of for kingdoms to merge under such arrangements, but I daresay a bastard has never risen so far in such a short time.”

Larylis narrowed his eyes, but his face twisted into another wince.

A sob tore from Mareleau’s throat. “Stop hurting him!”

“Should Larylis die,” Morkai said, “there would be quite a battle over who had the greatest right to the throne.”

Terror sparked inside her. She wanted to flee from her fear, but she reminded herself that she needed it. Needed all these dark emotions to craft what she wanted Morkai to see.

She shrank down, cowering. Weak. Small. No threat at all .

Morkai spoke again. “As queen of the single entity that is your newly merged kingdom, you could continue to rule as reigning monarch. But without an heir, your claim will be weak. Especially when Prince Teryn still lives, and his blood right to Menah is stronger, regardless of the marital ties that have joined the kingdom to Selay.”

She had to force herself not to react to the part about not having an heir. Force herself not to press a palm to her belly. Morkai didn’t know. Of course he didn’t. She’d told the man she’d thought was Teryn that she’d lied. She made herself sniffle, crafted a miniscule tone of voice. “What are you trying to say? You…you’re going to kill my husband?”

“In the unfortunate case that Larylis dies, leaving Menah and Selay in a contest of crowns, the most peaceful solution would be the one that creates the least amount of conflict. One that keeps bloodlines and land rights as they stand, with Menah and Selay as one. Better yet, why not reform Lela? Why not join three kingdoms? Do you understand what I’m suggesting?”

She shook her head.

“Then I’ll spell it out for you. For the sake of peace, the best solution would be for you to marry Teryn, the new King of Khero.”

Fire boiled her blood, and she didn’t have to fake her rage as she shouted at the sorcerer. “I would never marry Teryn.”

His gaze hardened, and he curled his fingers toward the ball of blood again. Larylis cried out, head falling forward as he clawed at his torso. “I don’t have to give you a choice.”

“Stop!” She extended a pleading hand. “Please stop hurting him! I take it back. I’ll do anything you say. Is it my kingdom you want? Menah? Selay? They’re yours. Take them. Take all of it. Just let me and Larylis go.”

Morkai scoffed. “You’re going to hand over your kingdoms, just like that? I thought you were stronger.”

The amusement in his voice said the opposite. This was exactly what he’d expected of her. She was so lost in her fear over Larylis’ fate, she wasn’t sure if her words had been truth or bluff. Lies had always left her lips easily, but now…now she’d do anything to save her husband. Promise anything and mean it with her whole heart.

“Let us go,” she said. “Let Larylis go and our kingdoms are yours.”

He barked a laugh. “You don’t expect me to—” He laughed again, so abruptly, it had him stumbling forward. He caught himself, hands on his knees. As he heaved again, she realized it wasn’t laughter at all but a coughing fit.

Larylis slumped, face easing with relief as he was finally freed from whatever Morkai had been doing to him. Mareleau’s eyes bored into her husband, willing him to realize this was his chance. Larylis’ eyes locked on the sorcerer, his hand flying to his hip?—

His scabbard was empty.

He scrambled to his feet anyway, took a charging step forward.

Morkai righted himself and thrust a palm toward Larylis. Mareleau’s heart sank as her husband stumbled back, clutching his chest once more. Streams of red flitted through the air from the gash in his arm, dancing toward the sorcerer’s open palm. It became a ball of crimson, like the one he’d held before.

Morkai’s chest heaved. He swiped his free hand over his mouth, but when he pulled his palm away, his eyes widened. Mareleau wasn’t sure what he saw in his hand, but the blood smeared over his lips made it easy to guess.

He’d coughed up blood.

Whatever was wrong with Morkai—or Teryn’s body—it was catching up to him. Something like fear danced in his eyes as his lips curled up in a snarl. “You want to live?”

“Let my wife go,” Larylis bit out. “Do what you will with me.”

“No!” Mareleau called. “Let him go. Please! I’ll make any promise.”

Morkai’s jaw was tense, all prior amusement gone from his face. “Fine. I’ll give you a chance to survive, brother.”

“Don’t call me that. You’re not Teryn.”

Morkai reached for the sword at his hip and freed it from its scabbard. He tossed it to the side, letting it land in the grass several feet away. “If you can survive a fight with my Roizan, I’ll let you and your wife live.”

The monster leaped away from Mareleau toward her husband. Morkai turned his palm to the ground, and the bead of blood disappeared. Larylis straightened, freed from the sorcery, but the monster was just a few feet away. Mareleau’s heart climbed into her throat as Larylis dove to the side, reaching for the sorcerer’s discarded blade.

Morkai shifted before her, blocking her view. “Stay here and watch,” he muttered, reaching into his jacket pocket. He extracted a vial with one hand and unsheathed a short knife with the other. She caught sight of him rolling back his sleeve and making a shallow cut in his flesh before he turned around, back facing her.

Of course he turned his back on her.

She’d succeeded in presenting herself as weak. To him, she was just a woman he could manipulate. A queen he could steal from.

She inched backward, lips peeled back in a snarl. Her hand closed over something hard. Glancing down, she saw the hilt of a dagger. It was the one Larylis had given her before he’d left the tent. She’d dropped it when she’d glimpsed her father’s face on the monster, but now her fingers curled around it. Chest heaving, she rose to her feet, blade in hand.