We made it to Crowpass. Al went into the town, but when I was waiting for him, another demon lord appeared. I swear it had me enthralled. I couldn’t move, and if Al hadn’t come running, I’d be gone. The forest is beautiful, but there feels like a lingering darkness. It could be my imagination or the demon, but I’m terrified.

  If you hear anything about Nora, please let me know. I’m relying on you, so please don’t get yourself shunned or do something stupid.

  —Sera

  She closed the journal, then reopened it. The pages had cleared her words.

  “Here,” Alistair said right before a ball of fabric smacked her in the face. “Since you can’t glamour, you need a disguise.”

  The lavender garment was made of coarse material, with uneven and lopsided stitches around the hem. But she noticed the small smirk on Al’s lips. She wanted to be happy for this break in gloom, but his mood had been a boulder in her gut. One that seemed to stay put.

  “Is this the best they had?” she asked. The dress was hideous—about three sizes too wide, and it would hang at an awkward length below her knees.

  “You don’t like my taste in dresses?”

  “This isn’t a dress, it’s a tent.”

  “Are you worried I won’t find you pretty enough to ask you to the solstice ball?” He winked.

  Sera couldn’t help her scowl. Maybe he was over the events of the afternoon, but she remembered what he had said, what he had implied. “Now you have a sense of humor? Over our little incident with the demon?”

  That struck a nerve. His blue eyes pinned her where she sat, his mouth set in a grim line. “Do you have any idea of what could have happened? What he could have done to you?”

  “Believe it or not, I am very aware of the different varieties of demonic torture.” Sera threw her notebook into her rucksack and pulled out her Legion cloak, rolling it into a ball to be used as a pillow for later.

  “So glad you’re well read.” Al stretched his arms above his head. She didn’t want to watch him; she hated how her eyes lingered on the lines of him, envisioning what all that muscle looked like under his clothes.

  Sera restrained herself from going further down that thought line and stood. This wasn’t some opportunity to reconnect with an old crush, and how dare she lose focus on the real reason she was here?

  “This is not a game to me! Nora is gone. They have her. How would you feel if they had Colton?”

  His lip curled. “I know more than most what it would be like to have someone you love ripped apart by demons.”

  Sera swallowed hard. His father. Of course. How could she have forgotten? “Then you know exactly how I feel right now. The only difference is that I don’t know if she’s dead or not.” Sera slapped her hand over her mouth. “Al, I’m sorry—”

  “At least you have a fucking chance.” The dead leaves on the ground crunched under each step he took toward her. “At least there is some hope that Nora is alive down there. Maybe beaten, maybe bloody, but alive.”

  Her heart sank. She recognized the pain in him now. The anger, yes, but also the helplessness.

  She could barely hear what he said over the thunderclaps around them. “Never assume what I may feel about a situation. I promise you’ll always end up wrong.”

  The back of Sera’s knees hit the log behind her. Scrambling for a moment, she landed atop the log with Alistair hovering over her. Still, Sera held her chin high. “Fine,” she gritted out.

  “Fine,” Al repeated back to her and strode back to his bedroll on the other side of the fire. He lay down, keeping his back to her.

  Downing her sleeping elixir, Sera let her silent tears fall.

  Chapter fifteen

  Dominick

  The Ogdelo—or pool house, as most oracles called it—had once seemed to Dominick a wonder to behold. The building was one of the reasons he had wanted to be an oracle. The murals painted on the ceiling in the great hall depicted the sky—the sun, moons, stars—in such detail that he thought he would be able to caress the fabric of the universe if he could only reach the paint.

  A shallow viewing pool greeted each oracle as they entered, with fountains of colorful threads spilling over each other in a synchronized dance. Beyond it, rows of exquisitely carved pillars, each marble column emulating the same starry theme from the ceiling, led to the grand pool, where dozens of platforms abutted the water.

  It was beautiful. But the longer Dominick worked there, the easier it was to see the cracks.

  He marched through the corridors of the Ogdelo, pushing past some oracles lingering outside the main chamber, and headed toward the grand pool.

  Helping Sera was his top priority, and right now, she needed to know if Nora was alive. Dominick wasn’t advanced enough to read lifelines himself. No, he was currently stuck reading upcoming crop yields and weather. Basically useless. So to help his best friend, he’d have to do what he did best.

  Flirt.

  There had to be someone he could convince or manipulate. It didn’t matter which, as long as he got what he needed, and he needed information. Sera had to know. Shadow, he had to know if Nora was all right, and knocking on Lavinia Wildrick’s door was a worst-case-scenario situation.

  “Dominick?”

  A face he recognized. One that he saw lingering around his usual haunts. Tanned skin, icy sea green eyes, and light blond hair. “Theo! It’s so funny seeing you here. I was waiting for one of my friends. I didn’t know you were promoted to lifelines. Congratulations.”

  Theo’s tanned nose pinkened. “It was just a few weeks ago,” he said, his smile stretching wider.

  “We must grab drinks tonight. You have to tell me how you excelled so quickly.” Dominick placed his most charming smile on his face and dropped his eyes to Theo’s lips. A strawberry hue climbed Theo’s throat.

  Perfect.

  “Okay,” Theo said, almost too eagerly.

  This was going to be far easier than he’d planned.

  “Perfect. I’ll meet you at Radost at seven. Promise not to leave me hanging?”

  “I promise,” Theodore said.

  Dominick winked at him and strolled to his pool chamber to learn whether the brown beans would be bountiful this year.

  The brick wall in the alleyway behind Radost was wet. Moisture seeped into his palms, which he’d placed on either side of Theodore’s head. Dom kissed him, deep and full of tongue.

  Theo wasn’t bad looking. Quiet—timid, even—but not ugly. Timidity usually turned Dom off, but Theo wasn’t a half-bad kisser.

  The conversation over dinner had been dull. Dominick made sure to look interested and hung on to each of Theo’s words between the clinks of crystal goblets and scrape of silverware on delicate dishes. It was an exhausting task in light of the situation, but he’d accomplished what he needed to and had Theo in his trap.

  Dominick wrapped his hand around the back of Theo’s neck, pulling him closer, and pushed his body into the front of Theo’s robes. He didn’t doubt the warlock would be putty in his hands. Shadow, he might even enjoy it if Theo fucked as well as he kissed.

  But that wasn’t the primary mission. He wouldn’t let it get that far tonight. “I’m sorry,” he said, pulling away. “I can’t do this right now.”

  “What do you mean?” Theo tugged him back toward his lips.

  “I have a lot going on. It’s not fair to you.”

  “Last time I checked, I was consenting.” Theo’s hand squeezed Dom’s hip, and heat washed through him.

  Dominick raised a brow at the warlock, taking note of the heavy lids over his sea-colored irises. His ruffled blond hair made an attractive contrast to the tan of his skin, and now Theodore was showing some spunk.

  “I’ve just…” Dominick looked down the alleyway to the street. “I’ve lost a lot of people recently, and I’m scared.” He hadn’t meant for his tears to blur everything. He hadn’t meant to open that part of him up. He cleared his throat, trying his best to keep the emotion from bubbling to the surface.

  Everything was happening so fast. Nora gone, Sera gone. Colton, who knew what… Dom hadn’t received a message back from his brother in days. And he was alone. Despite the trysts and late-night drinks with acquaintances, this was the first time in years he’d felt truly alone.

  “What happened?” Theo asked.

  “You remember my best friend, Seraphina? Her sister was the one taken by that demon last week. Sera and I are worried sick, and we can’t get the Council or her mother to tell us if she’s even alive.” His airway constricted slightly. Saying it out loud sparked more of a reaction than he’d expected. “I should go. I’m sorry I started this.” Dominick palmed Theo’s cheek. “It was nice to catch up.”

  He turned to enter the side door of Radost.

  “Wait.”

  Dominick smiled to himself before turning to face the lifeline oracle.

  “I can search for her,” Theo offered.

  “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

  “I’m offering, you’re not asking,” Theo answered.

  “It’s against protocol. I don’t want you to get in trouble.” Dominick took a step toward him. He didn’t really care if the warlock got caught, though future pulls, if needed, would be easier if he wasn’t.

  “I won’t get caught. I’ll look for her tomorrow.”

  “Shadow, you’re amazing,” he muttered as he took Theo’s chin, pushed him back up against the wall, and devoured him once again.

  Chapter sixteen

  Seraphina

  The wind whipped her heavy curls. The ground trembled. A chasm opened, extending as far as the eye could see, wide and deep. The ravine went down to the core of Eraphon, and Nora dangled high above it, wrapped in shadow and black flame, shrieking in silence. One second, she was there; the next, she was swallowed whole.

  Down, down, down she went.

  “Seraphina.”

  Her name carried on the wind. The demon, in all black with glowing red eyes, appeared and called to her by name.

  “Sera, wake up.”

  Her eyes snapped open. A thud was followed by pain. Sera grabbed the side of her head, cursing the warlock. Alistair held his cheek and sat in the dirt, staring at her, dumbfounded.

  “Moons, you have a hard head,” he said as the white healing of his magic zapped into his skin, leaving behind a raised red welt.

  Sera stood, frantic, searching for her sister and the chasm. But there was nothing. No Nora, no demon, just Al. It had all been so real. Such terror etched into the lines of her little sister’s face. She supposed that was the consequence of taking a smaller dose of her sleeping elixir, but she only had three, and who knew how long this mission would last?

  “Morning to you too.” She pressed her fingers into the side of her head and winced. As if she wouldn’t have woken with a headache after their argument last night, she had to awaken to being smashed on the skull. The spot was already tender and would bruise before long.

  “Come here,” Alistair said. He held out his large gloved hand. She grabbed it and yanked to get his hulking frame to his feet. “That’s not what I meant, but thank you.”

  Sera focused on him, confused and disoriented from waking in pain. Before she could object, Alistair reached for her and settled his gloved palm on the side of her head. His lips were straight, eyes focused on her. Her skull throbbed for a second longer, until a cool rush overtook the warmth of blood that had traveled to her scalp.

  She held on to him and leaned into his palm, much like a cat begging for attention. It felt amazing. “That healing power is pretty useful,” she said, gazing up at him. Her insides melted. Alistair had a flush across his cheeks, his eyebrows raised high, those full lips parted. A second later, he dropped his hand and cleared his throat.

  “It—uh, it’s useful when you’re on the road.”

  Sera couldn’t stop herself from smiling as she turned away to rummage through her pack. Somehow, throughout their journey, her chocolate tart had remained relatively intact. She unwrapped the cloth napkin and slid the confection into her hand just as Al offered her a piece of jerky.

  “You brought a pastry?”

  She took the jerky from him and placed it in the napkin to save for later.

  “I’m not sharing,” she said before taking a giant bite, and followed Alistair into the forest.

  Sera didn’t quite know how to move on from their argument the night before. Tensions from the demon, worries over her sister, and heartbreak for Al: It was all a convoluted mess. She supposed she should apologize, but Alistair had said things that burrowed under her skin. Call her stubborn, fine, but her sister had been captured, and what sliver of hope she had was fading rapidly day by day.

  Nausea surged, but Sera forced down another bite of chocolate pastry. She needed this mission to be over as soon as possible. She needed to save Nora.

  “The ruins that line the Deadlands—do you know how many there are?” she asked.

  “Do you always talk with your mouth full?”

  Sera took care to step over a fallen log and followed Alistair on a deer path through the forest. “An answer would work just fine, thank you.”

  He turned, giving her a look of pure annoyance. Sera shoved the rest of her breakfast into her mouth to keep from smiling. She rather liked irritating the warlock.

  “I requested some additional information. There are at least twenty, probably more. I’m waiting on correspondence to come back on names and locations.”

  Twenty? Moons, each outpost could be equivalent to a small village. “You think there are more?”

  “Bound to be. That’s your theory, then? Doorways and ruins coincide?” Al lifted a branch above his head and motioned for her to go under it. Sera brushed past him. The contact of her shoulder against his chest sent a jolt through her, one she didn’t mind one bit.

  “I think the doorways must have been created to get a large number of troops in and out of Gehenna.” Sera gasped when a cold shower of lingering raindrops from the trees above hit her. She glared at Al but was met with a sly smirk. “Anyway,” she said, wiping the water from her forehead. “Gehenna is entirely underground except for its outposts, Ceasefall, and Port Sidnah. They must have tunnels leading to the surface near each area to keep them manned during wartime.”

  “Let me go first,” Alistair said, stepping around her. She couldn’t help but notice he was careful not to make any physical contact with her this time.

  A whirring sound emanated from deep in the forest.

  “Al, what’s that—”

  Before she could finish, Al’s hand shot in front of her face. The tip of a dagger punctured brown leather, slicing through Al’s flesh.

  “Stit,” Alistair gritted, and an iridescent shield was up before them. The thunking of a dozen knives as they broke against his shield almost overpowered his cursing. Al winced as he yanked the blade from his hand.

  Sera stood frozen, the blood drained from her cheeks, her darkness pulsing like a drumbeat through her veins while Alistair healed himself. The world spun, black dots peppered her vision, and in that downward spiral of dangerous power, darkness seethed.

  How dare they… her power said.

  Sera shook away the voice. Trying to rid herself of the burning and rage building under her skin, she sank her nails deep into her palm. It wasn’t going to be enough this time, even if she drew blood… it wouldn’t be enough, and if it seeped out… if her mist caught an ember of her flame…

  Alistair’s eyes were dripping down his chin… the ground, the trees, her… everything was black flames roaring, destroying, killing… Sera bit down on her cheek to keep the images from flashing.

  Her magic laughed.

  “Crag!” Alistair screamed. The only answer was a hoot of laughter. That was when Sera caught movement between the shadows of the trees. She counted twelve Legion members in total, each one covered in dirt and splatter, but something about the stench made her pause.

  That wasn’t mud.

  The burning had almost reached her palm then, and when Alistair released his shield, she did the only thing she could think of to make her abomination stop.

  Sera picked up one of the daggers by the blade and squeezed. Sweet pain lanced through her palm up her forearm, and the burning rage lingering beneath the surface paused.

  “Shit,” she whispered.

  “How’d you know it was me?” A warlock trudged into a gap in the trees where sunlight broke through. His overgrown stubble could nearly be called a beard. The rest of his head was bald, and like his fellow squad members, his attire was browned and stained, except for the arrangement of daggers strapped across his chest. Those shone with brilliance.

  “You’re the only one I know who’d pull that shit,” Alistair seethed.

  Hot blood dripped from the cut on Sera’s palm, but finally she was able to breathe, and her abomination slowed its swirling. Was it so much to ask for a little control? And when would hurting herself be too much to bear? Dominick had already noticed what she was doing to herself, and Sera would prefer no one else found out.

  There is no control, only acceptance.

  “Shut up,” Sera hissed to herself.

  “Your recruit should have known better,” Crag said, picking up his dagger from where Alistair had thrown it. “Looks like she can’t even pick up a dagger from the right end.”

  Sera huffed, and Alistair whipped around toward her. He cursed while wading through the dense bushes to her side and lowered his voice. “You all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Let me see.” Sera gave up her palm to him, and he pressed his gloved fingers to the wound. His touch was like a gentle breeze on a sweltering day, and she’d be lying if she didn’t think about what that would feel like everywhere. Brushing across her navel, those hands sliding up her thighs.

  Alistair’s eyes widened for a second, and Sera couldn’t help but wonder if he had mastria abilities too. She shook the idea away. He surely would have said something by now. Still, she glanced around at the other witches and warlocks in the squad and built that wall around her mind brick by brick.