She glanced up. “And you couldn’t save her?”
He exhaled slowly, fingers tightening around his goblet, holding back a weight she couldn’t see. “I tried.” His jaw clenched. “I offered her food from my table. I would have made her my queen—but she refused.”
Katell’s stomach twisted. Her mother—proud, defiant, staring down the god of war and saying no.
Of course she had.
Katell huffed, trying to quiet the unease curling in her gut. Her gaze fell back to her plate, suddenly too aware of its richness. She fixed Laran with a sharp stare. “Why did you offer her food?”
His expression was unreadable. “To make her immortal.”
A chill ran down her spine. “And what will it do to me?”
His gaze met hers, unwavering. “It will awaken what you keep buried… and help you embrace it.”
Her breath hitched.
Something inside her answered. A dark, insidious pulse unfurled in her chest, threading through her thoughts.
Katell pushed back from the table. Her chair screeched across the marble floor as she lurched to her feet. Her heart hammered, heat flooding her veins.
She hadn’t summoned her magic, yet it was there—surging, ravenous. It swept through her like wildfire, prepared to consume everything.
Her mind spiralled into panic. “What did you do?”
He leaned back, one elbow resting on the armrest, fingers drumming. “If you cannot face it, your magic will consume you,” he said evenly. “You left your mortal body behind, but your mind still clings to its old chains. Tell me, daughter—did you let mortals clasp you in dampeners? Let other Gifted tamper with your power?”
Katell froze. “I… What are you saying?”
Laran’s lips curved in a faint smirk. “What I’ve said from the beginning. You are a demigoddess. That power isn’t borrowed—it’s yours. It cannot be taken. No magicked metal, no mortal trick can strip it from you. Yet you let your weak, mortal mind believe otherwise, and so they did.”
Her breath caught. Her mind reeled.
If she’d known the truth… the dampeners never would have worked?
She felt sick.
All that time in the arena—chained and silenced. And that night when she’d tried to save Sinope…
Yet something deep inside her had always known. The slavers had attempted to suppress her magic, but it had returned. She must’ve broken free without realising how. Afterwards, she’d let them persuade her she was powerless. She’d believed it. She’d let her own mind cage her more tightly than any shackle.
“I could have broken free?” she whispered.
Laran nodded. “Yes. And now the food will help you see past the illusion. It will set you free.”
“No…” Her arms wrapped around herself, trying to suppress the surge of magic clawing at her from within. Her chest heaved, pulse hammering, and every instinct screamed that if she let it loose she would vanish into pure bloodlust. “No!”
Her mind raced. Dorias had taught her to breathe, to anchor her magic—but Laran’s power was untamed, ravenous, and defied all her control.
“Make it stop!” she shrieked.
“I cannot.”
Out of nowhere, Laran was at her side, hand closing around her arm, grip like steel.
Before she could react, the world lurched. The villa vanished in a blur of light and shadow, and in the next breath they stoodonce more upon the barren battlefield. The crimson sky churned above them, the air thick with the smell of blood and smoke.
Katell dragged in a breath and forced herself to resist the magic thrumming in her chest. It beat like a second heart, eager to burst free. She clenched her fists until her nails bit her palms. Hold. Control.
