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I scoffed and tilted my head until she met my eyes. “Yes, you do. You’re afraid to tell me.”

Calista’s eyes flashed. “I sang.”

I arched a brow. “You know what I will say.”

“That the raven queen’s brother also sang.” She frowned. “I don’t think they were my words alone. It was like I heard another voice in my head, guiding me, working with me to shield against him. Like a sound I knew before.”

A bond. Lost from the girl, no doubt. “Your father promised his voice and your mother’s would be with you. You might be finding it through the gifts and the power they left behind.”

“Ifthey were my folk,” she said snidely. “Then, itmightbe possible. I suppose.”

The girl was the daughter of Riot and Anneli Ode. I was certain of it, but I wanted Saga and Calista to know it. I had an idea, but it would wait until we returned to the Court of Blood on the morrow.

“Either way,” I said, standing and brushing sand off my trousers. “Your brother, Annon, he asked me to protect you. I will. You are not alone, though I am certain you feel that way. I lost my family once, but I have gained another. We are your family, whether you want us or not.”

I leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her braids, then left her to her thoughts. Calista had secrets, even now, I sensed she did not want to think too long on what all this meant for her, what it meant to unravel a hidden past.

We’d give her time, but I would keep my promise. The storyteller was ours. Like I’d go to the pits of the hells to ensure the safety of my wife, I’d do the same for Calista.

Chapter45

The Raven Queen

We tookthe dead to the Court of Blood to be burned and sent to the gods. For Annon, Ari built the tallest pyre. Next, Hodag and the ladies of the star court. We opened the repository before sailing from the star court and honored the fallen priests and priestesses by scattering their ashes to a north wind.

“They’ll meet the stars,” Eryka whispered and leaned her head on Gunnar’s shoulder.

Sofia and Bjorn we honored in the Court of Blood despite their actions at the end. Desperation for the one you loved was something we all understood. Gorm and Cuyler mourned the loss of their uncle and brother, but did not question Ari’s actions taken at his threats.

The burrows had worked to take the captives of Davorin to safety. Magus had returned to the Court of Blood a changed young lord. A warrior who’d battled, who’d killed, but his reward was the life of his sister and his mother.

Though Ari and I did not burn Hawthorne with our fallen, we did not forbid the forest fae who were restored from their corruption and Hawthorne’s family from honoring him. As I was told, the serpent lord fought viciously to protect his folk before he lost his life.

It was to my benefit to bring peace to Yarrow’s heart, even for a moment. We had need of her. Two days after returning to the Court of Blood, Yarrow’s borrowed cottage was filled with kings and queens, Niklas and Junie, and Calista.

Yarrow wrapped a linen blanket around her shoulders and invited Calista and me to sit across from her. I narrowed my eyes at the serpent lady. “If you do anything like you did the last time, our mercy ends here.”

“No games.” Yarrow’s voice was soft, a silent whisper. “My mate was lost from games, Highness. I only want to help. If there is a block shielding another place in the past, together, we might unravel it.”

Calista’s knee bounced beneath the table. I understood. My stomach was in knots as we waited for Yarrow to cast her rune rite with herbs and blossoms she’d gathered.

Yarrow dipped one finger into the stone mortar. The same as she’d done before, she turned my palms up and painted the knowledge rune onto my skin, but added another on my opposite hand. A rune for a fated bloodline. Calista said nothing as Yarrow did the same, but once the serpent lady set about mixing pungent oils and powders, Calista leaned over to me and whispered, “If we’re direct kin, I expect a bleeding room in a palace.”

I snorted a laugh. There was the wit and bite from the storyteller we’d missed. A hole had formed in her heart, one each of us understood, but Calista was cunning and wiser than she let on. She would survive this, and no matter what I recalled today, I’d be there for her as she had been for us.

Yarrow finished mixing her sludgy concoction and painted our eyes before she muttered, “May the Norns let you see.”

Much the same as the day Davorin’s name was restored in my memories, I walked through a corridor. Bright with beams of sunlight. I was walking swiftly, a new thrill in my belly. I rocked on my toes outside a tall, wooden door and knocked until someone opened for me.

A woman wiped her palms and bowed.

I darted inside. My breath caught. Anneli was in the bed, and there beside her was, “Riot.” His name came out in a whisper, almost reverent like a prayer.

My brother beamed, those brown eyes bright and so alive. “Skugga, come in. Come see her.”

Riot came to me and took hold of my wrist, leading me to the side of the bed. Anneli grinned up at me, so beautiful, and wild, and vibrant. She’d been different than us, no fae ears, but the temperament of the rowdiest of the fae folk.

Anneli pulled back a soft woolen quilt and showed me a sleeping babe with a tuft of golden hair. “Your niece, Saga.”

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