“Baradaz.”
Only to freeze when my brother said her name. Her gaze flitted to him, an anxious expression on her face. Then, she returned to his side, her eyes downcast.
They were talking mind to mind. It was obvious in their tense stance, in the swift looks they exchanged. It felt like a betrayal. I didn’t care that I had done the same with her countless times. This reminder that Aramaz had a bond with her, a bond beyond duty, fueled my resentment into a storm. When it came down to it, Baradaz was choosing my brother. And not me.
Seeing them together, I was tempted to throw the truth in Aramaz’s face—that I had fucked his betrothed and she had loved every moment. The words burned on my tongue, yearning to break free. How easy it would be to hurt them both.
Baradaz stared at me, her eyes wide and fearful, as she caught onto the anger raging through me. Only a day ago she had looked at me with desire, sometimes even tenderness.
No, I decided, I would not reveal our secret. It would only prove them all right, would prove I was a failure, that I was always to blame. Still, I could no longer endure their presence. Calling in my shadows, I let them flow around me, as tightly controlled as my voice as I addressed the king and queen.
“You know what? I will spare you from having to make this hard decision, brother, and free you from my bothersome presence.” I let out a bitter laugh. “I am resigning from the Council.”
Baradaz gasped. “Belekoroz, wait…”
Aramaz, though, just watched me with a cold, unreadable expression. “That might be best for the time being,” he said, his tone devoid of emotion. It seemed I had finally found the limit of his patience. And of mine.
As I turned to leave, Baradaz’s magic reached out one last time, a desperate plea that mirrored my own anguish. It pierced through me, tempting me to return, to lose myself in her and consider begging for forgiveness.
I shut her out without remorse. My mind transformed into an impenetrable fortress, every gate slamming closed, every connection between us severed with cruel finality. I had allowed this cursed weakness for my brother’s bride to rule me for far too long.
The north awaited me with its endless plains of ice and snow, a vast expanse of white that stretched to the horizon. I welcomed the bite of the cold into my skin, shifting into corporeal form earlier than necessary, relishing the way the physical strain cleared my head asI trudged through the snowdrifts toward my goal. This was the first part of Aron-Lyr I had ever seen, and perhaps that was why it felt so familiar. Or maybe it was the harsh, unforgiving landscape that resonated with my own nature, making me feel at home in a way few places could. Here, in this frozen wasteland, I found a strange sense of peace. Here I could forget.
My stronghold was hidden deep within the unnamed mountains of the north, a secret I had kept even from Baradaz. They loomed above me, their jagged peaks piercing the sky, shrouded in a perpetual veil of snow and ice. It was not uncommon for the Aurea to have dwellings outside of Lyrheim; most of us spent time in our own domains. But I knew my activities would attract unwanted scrutiny from the Council, those short-sighted fools who saw danger in every shadow.
Cold amusement stirred within me as I imagined Sha’am’s reaction to the glowing veins of Chaos that marked the dark stone where a great iron door guarded the entrance to my underground fortress. I stood before it, summoning my power, the shadows around me swelling from a faint whisper to a menacing storm of pure darkness. It wouldn’t be long now. Those inside knew their master’s magic well.
A giant opened the gate for me.
Unlike many other Anima, Galator, the most powerful spirit serving me, had never seen any use for a fair form. He valued strength over beauty, immense muscles bulging as he pushed open the great doors. His head nearly touched the ceiling as he stepped outside, clad in warm furs over a simple dark tunic. The only remotely attractive feature in his rough-hewn face were his eyes. A warm brown, they glowed beneath coarse, dark hair.
“My lord,” he said, with a growl like falling stones, his large, square teeth flashing in a rare smile. “It is good to have you back.”
I had been so focused on the mission to destroy the Kritak—and on my beautiful companion—that I had neglected my people in the north. It was time to correct that oversight.
Galator’s gaze flitted past me before I could greet him, another growl rumbling through him, the sound full of threat. His eyes narrowed, scanning the horizon with a predator’s intensity. “Someone followed you, my lord,” he said, reaching for the great war hammer at his side.
At his words, my heart clenched with a sudden foolish hope. Could it be? Had she decided to follow me? I eagerly searched the snow-filled air for a flash of red, cursing myself for my persisting weakness.
But it was not Baradaz’s dainty features and distinctive hair that emerged from the cold. Instead, a tall figure appeared, completely clad in thick furs, a heavy sack slung over their shoulder. Noticing our presence, they halted and lowered their cowl, revealing familiar golden-green eyes that glinted with determination.
“Lord Belekoroz.” Masir sank to one knee in front of me, the snow crunching beneath him. “I have come to pledge my allegiance to you.” His voice carried a hoarse note, and there was a nearly feverish expression on his handsome face.
I stared at him, stunned. The Anima had chosen freely which Aurea to serve after being sent to Aron-Lyr, so it was rare for one to change their allegiance. I could not recall anyone having done so in the last century, since fiery Evanna had left Khiraz’s services for Zamani, the Aurea of Fire better suited to her nature. Sweet triumph sizzled through my veins as the implications of Masir’s defection from M’tar’s forge sank in. My careful planning had paid off. And gained me a valuable ally.
The Anima, his eyes gleaming with defiance and hope, reached forthe sack he had brought. “I do not come empty-handed,” he declared, his voice rich with promise.
With a dramatic flourish, he opened the sack, revealing a chest brimming withlyr-stones. They pulsed with a soft, ethereal light, casting a mesmerizing glow on the snow. A wild, unrestrained laugh escaped me at the sight.
Oh, this changed things. This changed things, indeed.
I bent down, clasped Masir’s hands, and pulled him up. “Rise, Masir, my friend,” I said. “We have a lotof work to do.”
CHAPTER
38
Noctis
