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E very muscle in Cora’s body was coiled tight, every limb poised for attack. Yet Morkai simply sat in a wingback chair opposite her and sipped his tea. They were in what used to be the North Tower Library, which seemed to have become Morkai’s personal study. It was a wide circular room lined with bookcases, save for one wall that bore an enormous hearth. She and the duke sat before it, a fire blazing in its core.

Cora tried not to let her eyes leave Morkai’s, but she couldn’t help noting all the changes he’d made to the room since she’d last seen it. Every window had been sealed with a tapestry. Every shelf bore far more books than there was space for, every spare inch brimming with unfamiliar volumes, some boasting unsettling titles on their spines. The Art of Blood. Grimoire Sanguina. Mastering the Ethera . A desk was pushed up against one of the bookcases, its top strewn with parchment and several enormous leather-bound tomes. A table sat at the center of the room, littered with more parchment, more books, stoppered indigo bottles, and a crystal bowl filled with some dark liquid. The most terrifying thing of all was the enormous shape of the Beast dozing next to Morkai’s chair. The creature took up a good portion of the room, its rumbling snores filling the air with a grating sound. This was the closest she’d been to the Beast. Her eyes fell on the ridge of spines running down its back. Spines she now realized weren’t spines at all but unicorn horns. Valorre came to mind again, sending an ache to her heart.

If the Beast is here, Valorre is safe , she told herself.

But what of the hunters? If they find him…

With a shudder, Cora returned her study to the duke. He sipped his tea again, then tipped his chin at the cup and saucer she held in her shaking hands. “I promise it isn’t poisoned,” he said. “Besides, that’s more of your realm of expertise, isn’t it?”

She set her tea on a small table next to her chair and gripped her armrests instead. He’d let her keep her bow and quiver. Another gesture to show how little he feared her. Her weapons lay next to her chair, tempting her to reach for them. Each time she considered the action, she remembered that ball of blood Morkai had. He’d summoned it so quickly. So easily. Where was he even keeping it?

“You said you wanted to talk,” she said, her voice coming out far shakier than she liked. “So let’s talk.”

“You have questions. Ask them.”

“You’re truly going to answer?”

“I have nothing to hide from you. It is my deepest wish to make you my strongest ally. I already know it is folly to lie to you, what with your Art. I can only imagine you’ve honed your talents these last six years.” His eyes dropped briefly to the ink on her forearms, once again eying them without even a hint of reverence. “So ask. I’ll answer.”

Cora pored over everything she’d yet to make sense of. A vision of the dead guard’s glassy eyes flashed through her mind. She closed her eyes against the guilt, banishing the sight of her hands on the arrow that killed the girl?—

“How are you controlling people?” she managed to say. Forcing her eyes open, she focused on her breath to steady her. “How are you able to get people to follow you and blindly obey?”

“Not everyone who works for me follows me blindly, Aveline.”

Cora thought of his hunters. No, she supposed some wouldn’t take much convincing to do his bidding. “But I know you utilize magical influence for control. You’ve changed my brother’s memories. You’ve convinced him Selay and Menah are his enemies.” She didn’t mention the guard. Couldn’t mention her.

“It’s called a glamour. Do you know what that is?”

She nodded. She’d learned about glamours from the Forest People. Similar to her feat with Teryn and the baby unicorn, a glamour was a way to shift another’s perception to make them see what one wished for them to see. Cora had never witnessed it in action. Or, if she had, she hadn’t known. Still, it seemed to have very little in common with what Morkai was doing.

He seemed to pick up on her train of thought. “What I do goes beyond the realm of a common glamour. My specialties lie less in changing what people see and more in changing what they believe. I weave thoughts into one’s mind, give them images, impressions, and beliefs. It only works on the minds of the weak or willing.”

“Are you saying my brother is weak?”

“I’m saying your brother has always been quick to accept exactly what I’ve offered him. He’s always wanted an explanation for his wife’s death. An enemy to blame other than himself. My explanations suit his sphere of plausibility. He’s never wanted the enemy to be me, which is why your efforts to convince him otherwise fall on deaf ears.”

“And what of others who work for you? Others you control?”

His lips curled into a smirk. “Like the guard I watched you kill? She had ambitions. People she wanted to prove her worth to. I merely helped her along. Impressed upon her a vision of what could be accomplished in my service.”

“How do you do it? How do you keep your illusions constantly in place?” As far as Cora knew, a glamour lasted only so long as one was focused on it. Expending that kind of magic on multiple people at once for any extended length of time…it shouldn’t be possible.

Morkai glanced at his sleeping Beast. “That’s where my Roizan comes in.”

“Roizan.” Cora echoed the unfamiliar word. “What is a Roizan?”

“A creature made with the forbidden Arts—the magic of the sanguina and ethera. A Roizan is forged from death and given new life. It is no longer a natural being. No longer susceptible to mortality. Its life is bound to mine and my powers to it. A Roizan is a living vessel. It can hold unimaginable power that I am able to channel from without expending any of my own vitale.”

She was unfamiliar with some of the terms. Sanguina. Ethera. Vitale .

Morkai continued. “Because of my relationship with my Roizan, I can maintain hundreds of glamours at once. All I have to do is weave them.”

“What does the Beast—the Roizan —have to do with the unicorns you’re hunting?”

He set down his teacup and placed his cane in his lap, caressing the crystal like she’d seen him do many times now. Was it simply an idle habit or did the crystal hold some significance? “The unicorns are a complicated subject,” he said slowly.

“You said you’d answer my questions.”

“I mean to. But where to start?” He gazed at the fire, but his expression was not one of deep thought. His face was smug. “There’s an ancient prophecy I’ve spent most of my life fighting against. One that mentions unicorns, a mother, and a child. Three things I should have no reason to fear. And I don’t, for there is but one element of the three that all the others hinge upon, and I’ve already taken an action against it that has nullified the prophecy in its entirety.”

She felt cold despite the warmth of the fire. “What action have you taken?”

“You asked about the unicorns, so let us remain on topic. The unicorns are part of the prophecy, which as I’ve said, is null. And yet, the prophecy itself doesn’t seem to know that. The appearance of the unicorns is a personal affront to my efforts, so I’ve made it my mission to be rid of them.”

“That sounds rather petty.”

Morkai shrugged. “Petty, perhaps, but quite beneficial to me. Unicorns hold some of the strongest fae magic that exists. Harnessing that magic creates a well of power. I need sources of power to work my magic, for every feat expends it.”

Cora’s stomach churned. “That’s why you feed the unicorns to your Roizan. It…holds their magic.”

“Which I, in turn, draw from at will.”

“Why do you starve them? Torture them?”

“Unicorn magic is pure light, Aveline,” he said, a condescending lilt to his tone. “It has been known to heal, to burn away darkness.”

Cora huffed. “That’s supposed to be a bad thing?”

“It is neither a good thing nor a bad thing because darkness isn’t evil. Darkness is simply an aspect of light the same way death is an aspect of life. My Art deals in darkness, which makes light magic detrimental. But light can turn to dark the same way day turns to night. Unlike the natural passing of dawn to dusk, light magic needs help to transmute itself into darkness. Starving the unicorns, trapping them in iron, and letting the deadly metal drain their vitale…it corrupts their magic. Changes it. No unicorn would ever wield corrupted magic themselves, but I would. And I do. You saw my demonstration. Saw how easily I drew living wraiths from dead, scorched earth. You’ve seen how I can change the minds of the weak. Saw how easily Prince Lexington accepted my offer. Menah and Selay will fall, as will anyone who stands against us. Dimetreus will become King of Lela. Your only choice is to stand at his side.”

Cora squeezed the arms of her chair until her knuckles turned white. “To what end? You’ve implied that you intend to usurp my brother once he’s claimed rule over the three kingdoms. Why? My brother has already given you more than you deserve. He made you a duke. Set you at the head of his council. How is that not enough for you?”

He scoffed. “The title of a duke. I’m already a prince of two kingdoms—a kingdom of men and a kingdom of fae. If neither of those titles are enough, what makes you think I’ll settle for being a duke?” He shook his head. “I’ll settle only for King of Lela.”

Cora frowned. Since when was Morkai a prince? Not only that but a prince of fae? She’d already suspected his fae heritage when she’d studied his features in the coach. But…there were no living fae aside from the Faeryn descendants. No fae kingdom left to rule. As for the human kingdoms he sought to overthrow…

She gritted her teeth. “You have no right to rule all three kingdoms of Lela. Not even Dimetreus has that right.”

Morkai’s silver-blue eyes flashed with indignation. “I do have that right. My blood is the blood of an Elvyn king. My claim is to Lela’s magic, and I will inherit it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Lela is more than it seems, Aveline. It is not a human land, but the heart of the fae realm. Fae magic seeps through every blade of grass, every root, every tree, but it does nothing but dissipate into thin air. The magic must be harnessed, and the person to harness it will be me.” He shifted in his seat, some of the fire leaving his words. “First, though, I must inherit the land itself. Not just a portion of it. Not just Khero. All of what was once considered Lela.”

“That’s why you’re having my brother conquer the other two kingdoms.”

He nodded. “I cannot conquer Lela myself, I can only rightfully inherit it. That is a condition of the prophecy I cannot fight. Your brother, on the other hand, can claim rule over the three kingdoms through battle, brutality, lethal force—whatever means necessary. Then he will pass his crown to me after his death.”

Cora bristled. “You’re going to murder him.”

“He’s going to die,” the duke corrected, lips quirked into a sly smile.

She shook her head. “You can’t be his heir. Your rule will be contested?—”

“Who will dare stand against me?”

Cora wanted to say her brother’s other councilmen, but she realized they were likely already under Morkai’s thumb. If they were even still alive. Based on the two prisoners she’d met today, it seemed Morkai didn’t let those who stood against him live.

“It won’t matter,” Morkai said. “By the time anyone thinks to contest my rule, I will have control over fae magic. Not just the Elvyn magic that lives in my blood but the magic of the Faeryn too. Whatever magic you’ve seen and studied, whatever magic you think you know, it pales in comparison to what I’ll have once I’m king. I will direct the flow of magic in this land, whether it’s the Art of witches or the Magic of the Soil. I will give power where it is due and take it from where it is not.”

Cora’s mind reeled at the hidden implications. He hadn’t admitted to knowing about the Forest People, but he knew about the Faeryn, the Magic of the Soil. He claimed to be an Elvyn prince. If he attained the power he sought…what would happen to the Forest People? Their magic? To witches like her and anyone who refused to bow to his control?

Keeping her voice level, she asked, “Why do you want this power so badly?”

He lifted his chin and studied her for a few silent moments. “I will do great and wonderful things, Aveline. My allies will be blessed. My enemies will be vanquished. I will shape the future of the world as I see fit. My magic will allow me to accomplish feats you can’t imagine. I will put an end to death for those I protect.” His expression took on a fierce quality as something dark flashed in his eyes. Slowly, he stood from his chair, planting his cane firmly before him. “You could be one of those people.”

An end to death . What was he talking about? She recalled what he’d done with the prisoners’ blood. What he’d done with her minuscule drop. She recalled the wraiths, heard their ghostly blades carving apart living flesh. If Morkai could do all that, what else could he do? What could he do to an army? What could he do during a bloody battle? Even more frightening was the thought of what he could do if his powers were increased by the magic he sought.

Cora knew in the depths of her heart, blood, and soul that—should Morkai succeed—he would destroy the world.

“You’re right about one thing,” he said, voice gentle. “Some will contest my right to the throne after your brother dies, and I will deal with them swiftly. I will spill their blood without remorse. You, however, can stop that from ever happening. You can save others from bloodshed by helping me strengthen my right to the throne.”

“How?” she asked, although she dreaded the answer.

His pale eyes locked on hers, devoid of warmth. “Marry me.”

She rose from her chair and took a step away, knocking the tea table over in the process. Her teacup and saucer clattered to the floor, but she refused to take her eyes from Morkai’s. “You’re out of your mind.”

He took a step closer. “I can give you half my heart.”

She barked a laugh as she stepped back again, feeling porcelain crunch beneath her shoes. “ Half your heart? Is that what you consider a proper proposal?”

“The other half doesn’t belong to me,” he said without inflection. “But you could. I think my heart would like you. It’s a jealous heart, but it could come to understand.”

Another piece of porcelain crunched under her foot. This time she slipped. She caught herself on her hands and knees, making an effort to heave a few breaths as her fingers stretched toward her quiver. Her hand came around the fletching of an arrow. She rose to her feet and rushed Morkai, colliding with his torso. Her arrow slid through flesh as she angled it up beneath his ribs?—

She gasped as a surge of pain struck her chest. Her vision blurred, but she refused to collapse. Clutching at her heart, she took a wavering step back, her lips curled into a wicked grin. Morkai held her drop of blood over his palm, but Cora didn’t care. So what if he killed her, as long as she took him with her. His black coat was already darkening around the shaft protruding from his torso. He stared down at it for a moment. Then, to Cora’s horror, he smiled. Tucking his cane beneath his arm, he brought his free hand an inch from his wound and began to gather tendrils of his own blood.

He met her eyes as her tiny drop stretched thin and began snaking toward his. “I could bind us by blood, Aveline. I could wind our fates together, force you to be my bride.”

She stumbled back, her chest still throbbing with pain as she doubled over. Her vision was nearly black now.

Then the pain abated. She lifted her eyes and found Morkai frowning down at her. His blood no longer hovered over his palm and hers had returned to a tiny drop. He lowered his palm and the ball of blood disappeared.

“I won’t bind you to me,” he said, voice barely a whisper. “Weavings of fate take more power than I’m willing to expend. Instead, I will give you time to choose me. And you will. You will choose one half of my heart willingly, or you will take the other half unwillingly.” He said the last part through his teeth as he wrenched her arrow from his flesh and threw it into the fire. Then he took his cane from under his arm and pointed it at the sleeping Roizan. He pressed his other hand to his seeping wound. In a matter of seconds, he stood straighter.

He’d healed himself.

“I will give you time to think.”

“I don’t need time to think,” she spat out. “I will never choose you.”

A tic formed at the corner of his jaw. “Is it the boy then? The prince?”

Her pulse kicked up. “Teryn? He’s…he’s nothing to me. He betrayed me.”

Morkai scoffed. “I see the way you look at him. I’ve been on the receiving end of looks like that. I know what it means.”

“You mean hatred? Yes, I imagine you’ve received many looks like that.”

“You could never be Teryn’s queen. Do you know what the prince’s father did to his queen? He tried to have her replaced with his mistress. Teryn would only do the same to you.”

She clenched her teeth. “I never said?—”

“Haven’t you figured out why I took your blood all those years ago? Why I wove it with Queen Linette’s?”

Cora’s breath caught. All she could manage was a shake of her head.

“I bound your fate to the queen’s. It took all the power I’d stored in my Roizan up until that point, but I succeeded.”

“Then why am I still alive? What are you waiting for?”

“Death was not the bond I wove. A death weaving doesn’t take nearly as much power, for it is an immediate sentence, not a long-term curse. It was your fate I wove, one that guaranteed—like the queen—you would die childless. It was an idea you inspired. I don’t have your ability to sense others’ emotions. I can only give thoughts and feelings to weak-minded beings, not receive them. But you knew the queen had lied about providing an heir. I’d already known I’d have to do away with her one way or another. She’d already begun trying to turn Dimetreus against me. And letting her further Dimetreus’ line would only hamper my plans. But your little scene at dinner that night made me realize I could take care of two problems at once.”

Cora’s stomach turned over with a wave of nausea. She resisted the urge to bring her hand to her stomach. “Why would you do that? Why would you try to keep me from having…” She couldn’t even say the next word. The prospect of having children had rarely crossed her mind. She was nowhere close to ready when it came to becoming a mother. But the realization that he’d tampered with something so personal, so intimate….

Her legs gave out and she sank into her chair. Sweat beaded behind her neck, down her back. The laces of her corset felt too tight, too smothering. “Why?”

“The unicorns. The mother. The child. Who do you think you are in that prophecy?” When she didn’t answer, he said, “The mother, Aveline. You are the mother and your child would have been my enemy. I knew of the prophecy long before I came to Khero, and I knew who you were the moment I met you. I sensed your magic, respected it. That’s why I never wanted to kill you, regardless of the threat you posed. Weaving your fate was the only thing I could do to let you keep your life.”

He said it with so much false kindness, it made her want to retch. Fury roared through her blood, and it demanded his life. She extended a hand toward her quiver, even as Morkai’s eyes trailed her every move. She didn’t care if he stopped her. She didn’t care if she died trying?—

The door flew open and a guard stormed in. “There’s a unicorn circling the castle wall.”

Morkai’s expression shuttered. “A unicorn?”

“It’s been trying to get in.”

Cora was frozen halfway toward reaching for her quiver. Her mind went to Valorre. It couldn’t be…

The Roizan stood and growled at the open door.

Morkai turned narrowed eyes upon her. “Do you have a friend, Aveline?” Her guilt must have shown on her face for he broke into a dark laugh. Turning to the Roizan, he shouted, “Find it.” The Roizan darted across the room, sending the guard diving out of the way as the creature squeezed through the door.

Cora’s hand closed around the strap of her quiver?—

“Seize her,” Morkai said. Cora dove for her bow, but the guard was faster. He tore the weapons from her grip and twisted her arms behind her back. Morkai gathered up her bow and quiver as the guard hauled her out the door. She struggled the entire way down the stairs, through the dark halls, but it was no use. The guard evaded her every attempt to free herself. Soon the stench of rot filled her nostrils. Panic set in as they entered an eerily familiar part of the castle. Not eerie in the same way she’d feel if they’d been heading for the former queen’s chambers. This sense of terrifying recognition came from returning to a place Cora had only been once before.

The dungeon.