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I broke from the center and shoved through a clash of weapons toward the back of the temple, toward the altar. Sucking breath in through an open mouth, every sour wave of body odor, salty sweat, and the bitter copper of blood settled on my tongue. I passed dozens of faces, but knew none of them.

Where the fuck were the captives? Where was my mother? I froze, squinting through the crowd, trying to spot the guard who, no doubt, hovered beside her.

My gaze finally landed on a familiar sight. My heart skipped and my panting ceased as all breath swept from my lungs.

Instead of my mother or her guard, umber hair twisted with hints of red, wild and too long, reaching almost to the backs of her knees, as her bony, angular body stood over the altar.

Silver had her back to me, but I recognized her instantly. The simple, tight dress she’d chosen matched the blood she’d spill on the altar. Not her own, of course. An ax nearly identical to the one I held hung from a belt at her waist.

How was this possible? I saw her on the throne. I saw her…

No, I never actually saw her on the throne. The executioners reported that through Finan, and we assumed it was the truth. I’d focused too closely on Silver’s goal to sacrifice our mother, rather than Silver’s actual position.

Which was likely carving my mother open herself.

How the fuck had I missed that? She’d been describing the sacrifice to our mother? I heard every word of that, so why didn’t I see this coming?

Since she wasn't at the castle, did this mean Drak had claimed his reign again on the throne?

I moved with one foot in front of the other, unsure of how slow or fast I approached, though the altar seemed to ebb further and stretch out of my reach.

A dozen chained captives surrounded the altar with her, and I couldn’t even guess at the purpose. Did she want them to witness the sacrifice up close? Did she want them trembling and sickened when she strapped them to the altar and forced them to bleed over the runes for the gods? It was only by the altar that the floor shifted from colorful stone to ash wood, darkened by runes etched below.

In a trance, I tried to force myself closer, but my dreamlike state felt like wading through the shore at Drukna as waves flowed and crashed over sand, making land further and further away. But in the trance, I could focus. I could finally break through the block and see what Silver would do next.

I blinked, giving myself flashes of the moments to come through my sister’s eyes as I tried to stay in the present at the same time. She didn’t just stand over the altar; she stood over our mother. Claws enclosed around my heart as it thrashed against my ribcage.

In seconds, Silver would reach for her.

In the present, I bolted to the altar, breath held, pulse a deafening thud in my ears, but I was too late. Blood spilled off the altar, flowing through the thinly carved rivulets like crimson streams. It dripped in a steady stream into the runes on the new oak floor.

“Mother!” I screamed, but my voice was a muffled cry even to my ears.

Silver bent over the altar, and I threw myself at her, ax raised, when a hand hooked around my bicep. From the strength of the grip, I knew it was a vampire’s hand. My ax grazed Silver’s hip with the blade cutting through the leather belt, but only her weapon released and crashed to the runes with a splash of our mother’s blood staining the hilt. The vampire ripped me backward, and my head snapped back with a sickening whiplash.

I blinked the blur away in time to see my sister turn. Only the hook of my ax captured her attention. She glanced at the weapon at her feet and then twisted, her eyes flared and lips parted as she met my gaze.

She said nothing, but the shimmer in her eyes and her quivering lip left me with more questions. Did killing our mother finally break her?

After flicking her tear-glazed eyes over me, she turned back, and my arms flung out. “Stop!” I screamed. “Don’t cut into her again!”

Searing pain shot up from my wrist, and another scream exploded from me. The vampire had buried his fangs in my upturned wrist. He was taking his fill before he’d likely snap my neck—an act of violence that wouldn’t kill me, but I didn’t want to imagine the pain of it, nor losing control over my own body.

I had to throw my focus on him, instead of Silver. It was easy enough to see what he’d do next. Just as I’d expected, he’d drop my wrist and grab my head with both hands, so as soon as he pulled his fangs out of me, I beat his next move. Ready for him, I positioned the ax to hack at his right hand, and then when he dropped back in shock, I’d charge him, stake pointed up.

The fight ended in seconds, but not fast enough. I spun around, seeing the captives now shuffling back from the altar.

Silver doubled over with her forehead on the altar…on our mother’s chest. Her shoulders shook, and she tilted her head back. “Say it!” she screamed. “Say it, Mother!”

What the fuck was this? Was our mother still alive?

I had only taken one step when Silver turned on the closest captive. She seized the young man’s throat, and though she was shorter than him, he froze with fear, and with his hands and feet chained, he remained at her mercy.

Her gaze snapped to a nearby vampire, and the vampire immediately responded to her silent command. Compulsion drove the vampire to the captive in a blur of fangs and blood. The West Anglan man was dead before I took a breath.

The vampire ripped the next captive apart with no chance to defend herself. These prisoners didn’t have weapons, but I did, and fuck if I’d let them all die in front of me like slaughtered cattle. The second they were dead, Silver would compel the vampire to kill my mother.

Foresight came naturally now. I saw him bend over the altar and bite her under my sister’s command.