Dangerous thoughts rushed through her mind. First, her on her knees, taking him in her palm. She imagined him tied to a bed, his eyes blazing. Then pushing his head between her legs…

  But if he didn’t trust her, then none of it mattered.

  Sera pulled her chin from his hand. She went to the desk, ripped a piece of paper from his pad, and scribbled a quick note. “I’m going to rest,” she said. “Tomorrow is a big day.”

  “Seraphina—”

  “I don’t know what you’re going to say, but don’t.”

  Sera ripped open the door and marched back to her room. She clutched her raven pendant, and a moment later her familiar soared through the dark halls to land on her shoulder. “You’re connected to me, right?” she asked it.

  The bird made a noise that sounded like a knock. She held up the rolled note. “I’m taking that as a yes. Bring this to Dominick in the Citadel fortress. He’s an oracle and a smart-ass. You can’t miss him.”

  Her familiar grabbed the note with its beak and took off through the tunnels.

  Chapter fifty-six

  Alistair

  Alistair awoke early, packed his bag, and prepared to return to the Citadel. He checked in on Sera while she slept. Her dark eyelashes cast a shadow across her light brown skin as she held Snik close to her stomach. Even in sleep, they were inseparable. He couldn’t say the same for the raven.

  He was happy the bird wasn’t perched in her room. He hated birds.

  Alistair swallowed hard. It had all gone wrong.

  When he learned that she’d accompany him on this mission, he’d almost told Chair Renata to demote him. Sera was stubborn, rude, and so fucking beautiful. By some miracle, she’d warmed up to him.

  He still thought about their first night in the tavern. Sera twirling under his arm in that oversize purple dress he’d bought off a washerwoman. The way her hair bounced when she danced, her smile brilliant in the middle of the tavern floor. She looked free. At that moment, his heart opened to her, to the possibility that this mission might bring him something more than a job well done.

  When he saw that human in their room in Ironoak, Sera scared out of her mind and wielding his dagger, he’d lost every ounce of control he’d attained as a Legion captain. When he traveled that human to the clearing, he’d gripped the bastard’s throat until his face turned purple. He’d let one breath fill his lungs, then seared him from the inside out. He’d felt his magic rip through every one of the human’s blood vessels and watched him writhe in agony. Just before he was about to die, Alistair had snapped his neck.

  Then he’d traveled back to her.

  Seraphina.

  Now, Al went to look for the oracle to make sure she hadn’t escaped in the night—hadn’t changed her mind, causing more chaos. But when he went to the mirroring pool, she was there.

  “Warlock, is it time?” she asked without turning away from the water.

  “It is.”

  “Wish to sneak me away without her knowing?”

  Alistair cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t do that. I’ll let her say goodbye.”

  Ophelia was eyeing him suspiciously, but he didn’t care what she thought of him. She would be the Council of Elders’ problem soon, and he could move on to something else. Perhaps he’d travel back here, kill Vasso himself.

  “You’re torn.” She smirked. “Maybe torn is the wrong word. I think a better term is feeling guilty.”

  “I have no guilt. I do what must be done, is all.”

  “That is not all. Everything hangs in the balance.” The oracle seethed at him.

  “You and all this mystic bullshit. You go on and on about the world but share nothing of use. It amazes me this demon kept you for so long.”

  “Showing your fangs, warlock?” Her voice was sly. The feline grin crossing her features turned into something feral. “Tell me what I am.” Ophelia flung her arms wide, and image after image came from the threads that shot out of the water.

  In the projections, he watched a spear pierce his heart. Next, he was alight with black flames. Another had him holding Sera limp in his arms, Dominick dead at his feet.

  Image after image flashed before him. Hundreds of ways he would die. A sickening unease built in his gut.

  “We have free will, yes,” Ophelia told him, more images flashing. “But what is free will if it all ends in disaster? These are all the ways you will die if you take her with you on this day. Only one may come true, but the possibilities are endless. I am warning you one more time, warlock. Leave her.”

  He tried to swallow his nausea. “How do I know you’re not manipulating me?”

  “Of course I’m manipulating you, but only for the good of Eraphon. For if you take her, you aren’t the only one who will die.” The oracle swung her arms again, and images of Seraphina and Dominick appeared. Sera was beheaded and hanged. Dominick was buried and burned. He watched as they screamed over and over again. He watched Sera covered in blood, howling his name.

  “Stop it,” he choked. The oracle dropped her arms, and the images and the threads from which they came disappeared. “Swear it, swear on Shadow this will happen if I take her back.”

  Ophelia left the center of the pool and walked toward him. “One of these events will happen. I swear on Shadow.” She placed her hand over her heart. “On Eraphon.” And bowed.

  The sinking feeling in his gut did not cease with her promise. “Get whatever you need together,” he instructed, and went to wake up Sera.

  Outside the door, he gathered himself. He took a deep breath, then knocked. Sera answered, her hair half up, Snik beside her.

  Her pack wasn’t on her shoulder where he wished it was; it was lying against the far wall.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “Al, I want you to know, I’m not mad at you. I know you meant well, all of it, and I’m sorry.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He pushed into her room, pulled two daggers from the back of his waistband, and set them on the bed.

  “Al?”

  “These are for you. Carry them with you everywhere,” he said, then reached into his pocket and pulled out two quartz spheres. “Open your hand.”

  She did, and he dropped the stones in her outstretched palm.

  “These are summoning stones. They’re enchanted. You break one and I’ll know exactly where you are.”

  Silver lined those beautiful green eyes.

  “Anything…” His voice caught. “If you need me for anything, you throw that on the ground and crack it, and I will come for you.”

  She didn’t say anything for a long moment, and every second her eyes bore into his broke him. He would come for her if she needed him. He could give her that in atonement for all the secrets he kept from her.

  Barely above a whisper, she said, “I’m sorry for what we could have been. I think”—she wiped her nose on her sleeve—“I think we both know it wouldn’t have ended well for us.”

  Her breath hitched, and it felt like a knife piercing his heart. He didn’t need to watch it in the images from Ophelia’s threads. He felt it here, in her words.

  “Come on, we’re wasting time,” he said and left her room.

  Every step closer to the mirroring pool was a step farther from her. Chair Renata had been adamant that he bring the oracle back today. The last time he’d been there, the Citadel had been playing on the offensive, or at least trying to, and he didn’t want to push his luck.

  Vasso walked into the room, and Al straightened. The witches were saying their goodbyes. He approached the demon lord.

  “I don’t like you,” he said in a whispered warning. “I don’t trust you with her.” Vasso’s eyes blazed red, but he kept the smirk on his face as if Al wasn’t a threat. “But I’m not blind. Something is going on, and I want assurance you’ll not harm her.”

  “Your loyalty is admirable. I will promise you that no harm will come to Seraphina while I am near.”

  Seraphina and Ophelia were whispering to each other. He only had a few more seconds, and this was going to hurt, but… “I want to make a bargain.” Vasso raised his brows. “I want your word that you’ll protect her with your life.”

  “What do I get in return?”

  “What do you want?”

  Vasso’s eyes shifted from him to Sera and back. “I want the same. You’ll need to protect Seraphina with your life, if it ever comes to it.”

  Alistair slid his glove off his hand and held it out to the lord. Vasso took it. His palm felt like a hot coal. That sensation raced up his arm, over his shoulder and onto his ribs. Then searing, blinding pain.

  Al bit down so hard he thought his teeth would crack to prevent himself from crying out. She’d hate him even more for doing this, but he couldn’t help it. He wouldn’t chance her being harmed by him.

  Vasso breezed by him. “Leaving without saying goodbye? How rude.” Ophelia walked to the demon, her hands extended to him.

  Alistair only saw Sera.

  He took her in—her raven hair and tawny skin. Those sage-and-emerald eyes were brilliant against the tears spilling down her cheeks. She was wearing the Legion tunic, one that she was never meant to wear but willingly had to save Nora. She’d jumped into this quest without training, experience, or knowledge of the outside world. She was the bravest witch he knew.

  He swallowed.

  Sera locked eyes with him then, and he approached. He held out his arms, a prayer, a sign of forgiveness for doing the unforgivable. She stepped forward and hugged him back. He breathed in that nutty smell of sea air, savoring every moment of her in his arms.

  It was the way it should have been if he hadn’t been so damned stupid. He didn’t want to let her go, but she broke the embrace.

  “Promise me that you’ll take care of Dom?” she asked.

  “I promise, Minnow.”

  Her lip quivered, and he took a step back. He didn’t want to break in front of them, in front of her. Al looked at Vasso. The demon’s face revealed a deadly assessment of him. It seemed he wasn’t the only one who’d fallen for her.

  He gave the demon lord a nod of understanding. Vasso gave him one back.

  Look at her—just one more time.

  He didn’t want to know what she was thinking. He didn’t deserve to know, and it killed him to leave her here. But if one of those outcomes came true, if he was the reason for her death, he’d never live with himself. He’d lost his father, his mother, and Colton. Now, the only hope he had of love again stared back at him with a sad smile and tears streaming down her cheeks.

  Alistair crossed the room, grabbed the oracle’s hand, and was gone.

  Chapter fifty-seven

  Dominick

  Pink slivers of light were breaking across his floor when he decided he needed to leave. Dom walked the streets of the Citadel complex looking for Theo. He hadn’t shown up last night. They had made plans; Theo knew it was important. Dom’s hands shook within his robes as he stepped onto the white stone of Daedeth’s streets.

  Bakers and merchants were setting up their stalls and unlocking their doors as he raced to Theo’s flat. Dom pounded on the door again and again, yelling his name.

  There was no answer.

  So he turned to the only place he had left.

  “Have either of you seen Theo?” He was frantic. His parents looked at him as if he were drunk. He wished he were. Wished that in a few hours, he’d snap out of his stupor.

  “What is wrong with you?” His father’s clipped voice shot through him. “Your mother is a wreck, and you charge in acting a fool?”

  “He’s gone,” Dom whispered.

  His mother set her teacup down with a delicate clink. “When did you last see him?”

  “Yesterday morning. He left early for the pools.” Dom collapsed into the kitchen chair. “They were closed when I tried to return… when I realized he wasn’t home.”

  “We’ll find him,” his mother said.

  Tristan Benero nodded and swung his red cloak around his shoulders. “He must be somewhere within the walls.”

  Desperate for help, he followed his father from the row house. His stomach was sour from stress and lack of food, but the thought of eating something made it worse. He had to find Theo.

  “You sure he’s not visiting a friend or something?” his father asked.

  “No, it was…” Dominick hesitated. It didn’t matter what his father thought. Theo mattered more. “It was an important night. He knew it was important. Theo wouldn’t have missed it.”

  “Dominick.” His father stopped. Dom noticed for the first time the gray hairs in his father’s goatee. The lines around his eyes. He’d aged years, it seemed, since Colton. “You and Theodore are good for each other. We’ll find him, bring him home for a hot meal, and all will be right.”

  Something in his chest snapped. Instead of shame flooding in, it felt something like relief. Relief that his father saw him for who he truly was and, in his way, had given permission for Dom to be himself.

  Dom wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Thank you, Father.”

  “Come on. You recheck the pools, and I’ll go to the dining hall and common areas in Darine Hall.”

  Dom raced up the front steps of the Ogdelo, ignoring the mastria and the aliato posted at the entrance. He kept the wall tight around his mind, not bothering to give them a memory to latch onto.

  The pool was quiet. A few oracles were on platforms, starting their day’s quota. Throwing his hands out, he pulled for Theo. A string of blue wobbled, then pulled tight, racing for him. It didn’t fall apart or crumble; he was still alive. He wished he had gotten far enough in his training to pull the image, but this was enough; it had to be. Theo was alive. But where was he?

  Too many were disappearing. Too many had been executed by Raphael’s blade over the past week. He wouldn’t let it happen to Theo.

  Dom raced down the steps to meet his father in the Darine courtyard.

  Tears spilled down his cheeks. Gone. Gone. Gone.

  Theo was fucking gone.

  Colton, Nora, Sera… Theo.

  Heavy arms wrapped around him. His father pulled him to his chest, and Dom broke. “I’ll take you home, son.”

  They left the courtyard. His father hugged his shoulders tight in one arm and guided him through Daedeth Quarter’s streets back to his childhood home. His father didn’t let go until he sat him down in a chair facing the bronze clock in his parents’ sitting room.

  He had to keep hope. Had to.

  A high-pitched ringing in his ears drowned out the sound of his parents whispering in the other room. Quiet. Numb. Nothing but the clock ticking away in time with his heart.

  “Dominick!” his mother screamed as she ran into the room and threw him to the floor.

  A second later, his father was above them… and the walls caved in.

  Chapter fifty-eight

  Seraphina

  Sera wiped the tears from her face. Alistair was gone, and the emotion rocked her much harder than she’d anticipated. That stubborn warlock had been her safety net. All she could think about was what she’d said to him. How sorry she was, and that this was the way things had to end between them.

  He was gone, and Ophelia…

  She didn’t want to think about what the oracle was about to face. All Sera knew was that it was time to save Nora.

  “We need to leave,” she said to Vasso.

  “Your belongings and Snik are already waiting for us in the main chamber. Though I don’t know where your familiar is.”

  “Raven will find us,” she said. Sera went to walk past him, but his fingers brushed hers, halting her.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  Her gaze met his. She saw it then, for the first time—pain lingering in the lines around his mouth. Vasso’s shoulders were wound tight, and her chest began to ache.

  Everything was a damned mess, but after all of it, she was here with him. The connection between them ate at her. He didn’t trust her, and she shouldn’t trust him. She should walk away, let herself process losing Al in her own way, in her own time, alone. It was how she’d always done things.

  You are fated, her magic said. Can’t you feel it? He hurts because you hurt.

  Sera let out a shaky breath and embraced him. She buried her nose in his chest and breathed him in. How could a person feel so lost but found at the same time?

  Vasso wrapped his arms around her. The tension melted from the planes of his back as he pulled her tight like his life depended on it. She wondered if it did.

  “Are you?” she finally asked. “All right, I mean?” Those eyes. Gray with flecks of silver and black.

  “Better now,” he said, giving her a sorry smile that made him look boyish.

  “We’d better get going.”

  Vasso took her hand and led her to the main chamber. Sera looked around, taking in the rock formations, the tapestries along the walls, and flits of shadows across the lush furnishings.

  Snik yipped, dragging her pack across the floor behind him. “You ready for another adventure, buddy?”

  “Eeeeeeck,” the goblin squealed.

  Sera checked her pack. The daggers that Al had given her and the summoning stones were in there, along with the remaining bottles of her sleeping elixir. Sera huffed a laugh.

  “What’s funny?” Vasso asked.

  She held up the glass bottle. “I just realized I haven’t needed one of these since I’ve been here.”

  “Subdina, if there was something you needed, you should have told me.”

  “No, no… It’s all right.” Sera swung her Legion pack onto her shoulder.

  “You’re not wearing that.”

  “Not fancy enough for you?” She glanced down at her Legion uniform.

  “Do you think it’s wise to be riding into the Deadlands with that uniform on?”