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On the contrary, he puffed out his massive chest with pride. “We watch from afar, and when a whiff of our sister’s magic caught our attention, I sent out my own power to discover more. Didn’t you feel it when it connected with you?”

I thought back, furrowing my brow in concentration. I reached back to rub the nape of my neck. My gaze shot to him in surprise. “Was that the wind I kept feeling?”

He smiled and nodded in response. I gaped at him. I’d thought it was a portent since it had happened shortly before Rune sent me her—my magic. Perhaps that was what started all of this. The reality of what they said poured over me like icy water as it finally hit home. I floated back onto the stone seat.

“I’m a Facet of Revka.” Saying it out loud didn’t make it feel any more plausible. Yet here I was breathing beneath the ocean, in the company of gods.

“Yes. And she would not have created you unless she saw it as her only choice.” Zariah’s eyes shone with colors, something akin to the tears of a god, I realized.

This was all Balram’s fault. Somehow, his thirst for power had caused everything. But if what the gods were saying was true, and it made sense considering the strange magic Rune and I possessed, then another truth rose above them all.

If the gods were limited in their abilities, that meant they were just as powerless when it came to the man I once called father.

Forty

Leuruna

Iwoke with a scream, sitting straight up in the bed. The sensation of blood flowing over my hands was still so vivid and disconcerting that I shook my fingers out and rubbed them over the soft material of the blankets at my sides, convinced it still clung to me.

“So dramatic,” Serano drawled from the corner, where he sat at a large oak desk littered with bottles of glowing serums, parchment, and various other objects like inkwells and feathers.

“Where are we?” I asked, reigning in the sob that fought to escape. I’d just killed a man. No, I’d killed a monster, and I’d do the same to the one just feet from me should it come to it.

One bushy brow arched in response to my inquiry as though he were…impressed by my recovery. It shamed me somehow that I cared enough that my heart leaped. He’d always made it clear he thought so little of me.

So much power wasted on someone so pathetic.

I shook my head to clear it of the memory and took in my surroundings as he finally deigned to answer. “We are in Centos. In my tower rooms. Your father does not yet know I’ve retrieved you.”

That bit of information surprised me, but my heart sank with the knowledge I’d traveled so far only to be dragged back to the beginning. To my prison. And while I’d strained to bring some light and happiness into my own rooms, it seemed Serano had embraced the macabre of the Night Kingdom, cloaking everything in dark, rich velvets and gothic style furniture. The bed beneath me was covered in black and purple satin with thick, dark wooden posts carved in runes, black mesh draped between them.

It was then I noticed how clean I was. I lifted a hand to examine the pristine skin. I pulled the blanket away from my body to find myself dressed in a simple white nightgown that made my throat dry up. I hadn’t seen it in years. It was the one I’d been wearing when Serano had given me my first “lesson” on what to expect on my wedding night.

The implication sent my stomach roiling, and I gagged, close to vomiting once again.

“Not feeling well?” Serano asked, a bite in his words. He meant to taunt me.

I glared back at him, fisting the blankets and wishing I still had hold of that dagger.

“You should be, you’ve been healed by a mountain elf. They’re quite rare you know. If she somehow managed to disappoint⁠—”

“I’m fine,” I said, cutting him off. Though I wondered who the mountain elf was. Had he taken the whole ship? Did that mean Kendara? Were Rivven and the others here as well? My shoulders drooped with the weight of that thought. We’d come so far.

“Excellent. Then I see no reason to delay. It was frustrating having to wait for that damned pirate to act. Now, the longer we wait, the more time your father has to discover that I’ve hidden you from him.” Serano stood, heavy wooden chair scraping the stone floor as he did.

I winced. “Why haven’t you told him?”

Serano approached, hands behind his back as though he hadn’t a single concern about my attacking him. Clearly, he underestimated me, no doubt assuming I was still the meek little girl he’d bullied and broken.

“Tell me,” he said, ignoring my question, “were you aware of everything your shadow hand did while it was active?”

Again, I was startled by his words. But perhaps if I kept him talking, I could figure a way out of this, and I saw no harm in answering him. “No. Just bits and pieces here and there.” I’d checked in on Nyah on occasion, but it took energy to do so, which risked both of us not being at our full strength.

Serano nodded, then sat on the edge of the bed, making me want to scoot away. I forced myself to stay still. Not to react too strongly. Though I wondered if he could hear the pounding of my heart.

“Fascinating.” He leaned in as though he meant to examine me. “Then you weren’t privy to my discussion with the illusion? It was completely self-sufficient at that point?”

I shook my head, not daring to try to speak around the ball of fear clogging my throat. When he stood again, my gaze darted around the room, searching for potential weapons.