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“What is it?” I sat up as Lux stirred beside me.

Finan’s mouthy scar twitched. “I’ve spoken to another defected executioner. She said the queen is planning a mass sacrifice the day after tomorrow at sunset. We must take action immediately while the castle is exposed and before countless lives are lost.”

Lux’s hand flew to her mouth, and I stole a glance out of the corner of my eye. “The sacrifice won’t be at the castle?”

“At the old temple, the Hall of the Gods,” he said.

“And does the queen plan to attend?”

Finan shook his head. “She has told everyone that she will remain on her throne.”

“Fuck,” I balled my fist. “So we siege the castle while part of her army is overseeing the sacrifice.”

Lux’s hand curled around my arm. “I can’t go with you. If the sacrifice is at the Hall of the Gods, that’s where my mother will be.”

I met her gaze, knowing worry crystalized in my eyes. “Then we’ll be separated.”

Her eyes trailed over my mouth and searched my face before she met my eyes again. “Just like when we were separated at the Battle of Sundered Sky.”

Agony pinched my heart, and I could have sworn I’d developed the same condition as Lux. It paused and skipped as I struggled to accept that we were about to step into a battle like the first one that tore us apart.

My goddamn soul would shatter again if I lost her.

Lux

The next day, a nervous hum filled the camp, mingling with the sharp scent of freshly cut ash branches as everyone prepared for battle by carving stakes from trees brought across Vylheim’s forests. Even Soren gave his father sidelong looks that said more than words ever could.

Drak led me away from the center of camp and toward the house we suspected once belonged to us centuries ago, but as we passed Soren, I couldn’t help noticing the worry dampening his spirit. His usual smirk had vanished, and he more closely resembled Finan’s brooding.

I suspected Soren felt as strongly about protecting his father as I did my mother. How Silver knew she was alive after I sent her off with Ragna, I didn’t know. The Grimward on the boats knew Laurella hadn’t died from Drukna or her illness yet, but they didn’t witness Ragna taking her; naturally, if Silver knew our mom was alive, our old house would be the first place she’d search. But I still believed it was worth the risk to get Mother to the healers in Skaldir with how sick she’d become.

“Soren’s worried about his father,” I said absently.

“Just like you are about your mother,” he said as he released my hand and stepped through the stone frame. The walls flanking it were nothing but dusty stone crumbled to the height of my hips. Our farm once occupied this land, but its structures were unrecognizable now.

“How did you know?” I asked.

He laughed. “Your face says it all. You were ready to sacrifice everything for her and the other witches, and that hasn’t changed.”

Hadn’t it? I’d put my mother at risk. Maybe I should've tried to sneak her off the boat and back home before we even sailed. I’d had my foresight to help me fight off the Grimward, but I’d been too fixed on finding that first shard of Drak’s soul. I needed to know if I could resurrect Drak, and now my mother was worse off for it.

This was my fault; I knew that, but the bitterness that often burned my tongue and knotted my gut didn’t come. Releasing a breath, I trailed to the back of the modest home where a full wall still stood, with Drak at my heels. My fingers brushed the stone where it was flecked scarlet from a splash of blood from ancient times. This was where we’d butchered meat from our farm for trade in the market.

Would Myrah have made the same choices? Would I have put my mother at risk in any of my former lives? Or had I become more desperate for Drak with each passing century?

Tugging my hand back, I clenched my fingers and shook my head.

I refused to let shame consume me because I made the best choice I could at the time. Drak and Laurella both lived—for now. And sending my mother with Ragna and to the healers in our home village gave her a fighting chance against the fevers riddling her body.

“Sending your mother to Skaldir is not so different from the decision to hide when you were a child,” Drak said. “It was driven by the need to feel safe at home.”

I spun around with my mouth hanging open, taking in the sight of him leaning casually against the stone, his arms crossed, and a knowing look lifting his brow. “How did you read my mind? You can’t hear my thoughts anymore,” I said.

He chuckled and shook his head as he stepped over the remnants of a crumbled wall he’d once built with his own hands. When he approached me, he cupped my face in his hands and guided me into a kiss. I melted into him as his hips tilted toward me. Heat pooled in my core, and my breath lightened.

When we parted, he didn’t let go of my jaw, as his eyes searched mine. “You forget that I’ve known you for many lifetimes. That’s almost as powerful as hearing what you’re thinking.” His gaze fell to my lips again, and he gave in to temptation, cutting his own words short as he gripped my jaw with only one hand now and yanked me to him more forcefully. Our mouths collided, and I opened for him, letting his tongue taste me and dreaming of how it’d feel for him to lick along my core. Need coiled at my clit and I held my breath for the length of the kiss. Even after I pulled away for air, he didn't release me. With his forehead dipped to mine, he said, “I don’t know if I can bear to separate from you tomorrow.”

I swallowed and closed my eyes. “You must sit on the throne again to end her and claim it, or sacrifices like these will be our future, after we’ve suffered years of slavery.”