Slowly, I lowered my hand and blinked open watering eyes. The first thing I saw was the golden, shimmery swirls on my right hand. The imprint. The comfort that brought vanished as I lifted my gaze.
I went cold inside.
Numb at what I saw.
Gold bars spaced about half a foot apart. A cage. A gilded cage. Horror clawed its way through me, leaving me frozen, hand still half-raised.
“He should’ve been more careful. After all, you are technically just a mortal. Isn’t that correct?” he continued. “Not a god on the verge of their Culling. Not even a godling. But a mortal with embers of life inside them.”
A tremor started deep in my chest, where the embers remained unnervingly quiet. I turned, my gaze flickering over chests of varying sizes, a round table, a chair, a gold-toned divan, and a thick rug of fur. All items in the cage with me.
Then I saw him.
Golden hair.
Golden mask.
Pale blue eyes lit by the faintest wisps of eather. Eyes I had believed belonged to a god. But Dyses had the same eyes, and he was something else entirely.
A Revenant.
I’d seen this male in Dalos, only a bit of his profile. He’d been in the hall, waiting for Davon. But that wasn’t the first time I’d seen him.
I’d seen him in the mortal realm, in my kingdom, and that was why the gold-painted wings had kept striking a chord of familiarity. He’d been at Wayfair, speaking with my mother. Ezra had told me his name.
Callum.
He stood a few feet on the other side of the cage, but it was the only other thing in the space that occupied the otherwise dark chamber that caught my attention. A single elaborate, gold-adorned chair.
A throne.
Bile rose, and I choked it back as I lowered my hand to the soft blanket on the bed I lay on.
The same taunting, half-formed grin I’d seen that day at Wayfair appeared now. “Hello, Seraphena Mierel. It is so lovely to see you again.” His head tilted, and he smiled, causing the edges of the painted wings to lift across his cheeks and above his brows. “Do you remember me?”
“Did the…” I cleared my throat, wincing as the band momentarily tightened. “Was the attack stopped?”
“Attes gave you his vow. Kyn’s forces pulled back.” His head straightened as I glanced down at the hilt of the sword strapped to his back, and the dagger secured to his thigh. He’d gotten rid of most of the golden attire. Only the embroidered tunic was the sunny color. The pants were dark. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I remember you.” My fingers dug into the blanket as I steadied myself, lowering my feet to the floor—my bare feet.
I looked down, and this time, I flashed hot before going cold again as I saw gold. I no longer wore my pants or even my shirt and vest. I wore a golden sheath of nearly sheer, gossamer fabric.
“You were covered in filth and stank of the Shadowlands and the Primal there,” Callum explained.
My head jerked up. “The only stench I carry on me is that of this place.”
Callum’s grin kicked up a notch. “I would warn you not to let His Majesty hear you say that.”
Anger simmered through my veins, a red-hot fury. “Fuck His Majesty.”
The thing before me chuckled. “And I would strongly advise that you don’t let him hear that,” he said. “Anyway, you were bathed and given cleaned clothing.”
Bile rose once more at the knowledge that I had no idea who had taken care of that. I couldn’t dwell on those things, though. I couldn’t. I glanced around the chamber, spying one door and what appeared to be a sliding partition wall, both currently closed. “Do you expect me to thank you?”
“I would expect no such thing.” He drifted a foot closer to the bars. “But it would be nice.”
I sneered as I glanced at the dagger on his thigh again. “You were speaking to the Queen—”
“Queen Calliphe? Your mother, you mean,” he interrupted, and I stiffened. “Though I got the distinct impression that she wasn’t much of a mother.” He shrugged, and…good gods, wasn’t it telling that even he had noticed that. Gods. “But, yes, I was speaking to your mother. I spoke to her often.” His chin lowered as those pale, pale eyes glinted with mischief. “For many years.”
I jolted.
Callum came a bit closer. “Have you ever wondered how a mortal came into possession of the knowledge of how to kill a Primal?”
“Let me guess,” I hissed. “You?”
He angled his body slightly and bowed with a flourishing sweep of his arm as his gaze met mine. “Me.” He winked and then straightened, his smile fading as his eyes widened. “What? You seem shocked to learn this.”
I had wondered how my family could’ve learned such information, but I had assumed it was a Fate or maybe even a viktor. But this? Knowing that the knowledge had been gained only during the last two decades? It wasn’t hard to believe that my mother had lied, but that someone of Kolis’s Court had shared the information with her? Possibly even one of his Revenants? Never.
It didn’t make sense.
“Why would you do that? Why would he—?” I jerked again, stomach dipping as disbelief rose. “Kolis knows.”
A slow smile tipped up the corner of his mouth. “Of course, he does. He is the King of Gods.” He spoke gently as if conversing with a child. “His Majesty learned of it the night of your birth when your father summoned the Primal of Life to make another deal.”
Every muscle in my body stiffened. “What?”
“What was his name? Ah, yes. Lamont. Poor King Lamont had no idea that Eythos had answered his ancestor, so he spoke openly and freely with His Majesty. Asked for—no, demanded—that another deal be made, one that freed his newly born daughter from any obligations promised during the original deal.”
Reeling, I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe. The news that my father had tried to undo the deal—for me—left me stunned.
“He was quite insistent. Desperate, even. Unfortunately, one cannot simply undo deals made by a Primal.” Callum’s lips pursed. “Either way, the deal was of great interest to His Majesty. After all, he knew that his brother must have done something with the true embers of life since they didn’t pass to His Majesty upon his brother’s death.”
My lips parted. That meant…gods, that meant Kolis had drained his brother of his lifeforce. His own brother. Sickened, I gripped the edge of the bed.
“He spent many years searching for wherever his graeca had scampered off to.” Callum laughed. “Scampered. I do love that word.”
Graeca.
The word had two meanings. Love. And life. But when Taric had fed from me and said that he wondered what the graeca would taste like, I’d thought he’d learned about the soul inside me. But he hadn’t. Taric had tasted life. Graeca had always meant life—the embers of life.
“His Majesty knew that Eythos had to have hidden them somewhere.” Callum tilted his head. “Then, enter your father and the discovery of the deal. So, yes, His Majesty has known since your birth what you carry inside you.”
Good gods…
I rose without realizing it, without even understanding why, I only knew that I couldn’t remain seated as shock rolled into confusion and then gave way to anguish.
“No,” I stated, flinching at the sound of the chain rattling against the floor as I stepped forward.