The look on his face wasn’t what told me he didn’t believe me. It was the bitter taste of his distrust. I wasn’t sure what I could do to change that. And at the moment, I honestly didn’t have any fucks to give concerning it.

  Malik’s gaze lowered, and his jaw tightened as he stared at the new scar on my chest. The wound caused by the bone dagger was no longer charred, and it was completely healed, but the mark remained. His jaw flexed. “You could’ve died.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Doesn’t change that you could have.” A moment passed. “What did Reaver want, by the way?”

  “For Poppy to wake up.” My gaze drifted back to the space between the door and the wall. “But I’m sure you already knew that.”

  “I did,” he said, which made me wonder why the fuck he’d bothered asking. “He’s just worried about that female draken, Cas.”

  “I know.” I glanced at my brother. He was still watching me intently. “Are those two related or something?”

  Malik shook his head. “From what I know, Reaver was raised with her, but they aren’t related.”

  Huh. Based on what Reaver had said when I had him by the throat, I figured they were either bound by blood or the heart.

  “Our father is restless,” Malik started. “And worried because he doesn’t know what’s going on with you or Poppy.”

  My father’s concern was understandable, considering I still refused to allow him or any of the generals or guards—outside of Hisa—to step one foot inside Wayfair.

  “He’s not going to hurt her,” Malik said.

  Sighing, I straightened my arms. This wasn’t the first time we’d had this conversation. “I know, because I won’t allow it.”

  Malik was quiet for a moment. “You know, at first, I thought you were just being overprotective.”

  In my opinion, there was no such thing as being overprotective when it came to Poppy.

  “But I’m not so sure now.”

  Eyeing the end of the wide hall, I said nothing to that. I could hear the soft, rhythmic pattern of muffled steps—a wolven prowling the nearby corridors. If I concentrated, I could…

  “You really cannot think that he would seek to harm your wife,” my brother said. And there went any hope of concentrating. “Who also happens to be the godsdamn granddaughter of the true Primal of Life and a Primal of Death,” he said. “Our father is many things, but idiotic isn’t one of them.”

  “I don’t think he would,” I admitted, exhaling roughly. “I just…” I trailed off and shook my head.

  I didn’t want anyone to know that Poppy was in such a vulnerable state. That hadn’t changed. It had been hard enough to allow Tawny to see her in the state she was in.

  Not that I’d had much choice.

  She had shown up hours after we returned to the chamber, beating on the door with enough force that I’d actually thought she might crack the wood.

  But if Poppy didn’t know herself again upon waking? If Kolis had reconnected with her? No one else needed to discover that.

  Turning back to him, I faced my brother and really looked at him. I’d only seen him once since we’d stood outside the cell, and that had only been for long enough to speak about how Kolis could feed from the Ascended. We hadn’t even talked about Attes. I didn’t know if he’d spoken to our father about our great-what-the-fuck-ever-grandfather. But he still looked like shit. The shadows under his eyes were deeper, and his loose, golden-brown hair didn’t hide that his face was thinner.

  “You can’t keep avoiding him,” Malik said.

  I couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh. “That’s rich coming from you.”

  His features locked down, but I could tell my remark had struck a nerve. Not because I knew him so well—I couldn’t say that about my brother anymore—but because I tasted his emotion, the acidic anger.

  “I wasn’t avoiding my family,” Malik stated. “Not in the way you’re insinuating.”

  “That’s not what I was saying.”

  The burn of his anger turned icy. “Bullshit.”

  “It’s not.” Swallowing a curse, I rubbed at my chest. “I was more so thinking about how you would avoid Father when it came time for your royal lessons.”

  Malik’s narrowed gaze remained on me for a moment, and then he looked down. His anger had faded, but I could tell he didn’t entirely believe me. I was speaking the truth.

  After a moment, he cleared his throat. “It wasn’t that I didn’t want the responsibility.”

  “I know.” And I did. “It was just that you were exceptionally skilled at not being where you were supposed to be.”

  A slight curl of his lips formed. “Meanwhile, you were always where you were supposed to be and then some.” He brushed a strand of light-brown hair back from his face. “Times sure have changed.”

  That they had.

  He hadn’t been able to sit still for any real length of time, always surrounded himself with others, and was known for being a notorious prankster. While being holed up in a room with Father or Alastir drove him mad, Malik had wanted to rule when his time came. I, on the other hand, had been reserved, rather studious, and often on the receiving end of his pranks. Ruling had never appealed to me. My interests geared more toward agriculture and architecture. We were opposites. My brother had been born a leader, and I a warrior.

  But we were entirely different people back then. Mostly. That realization didn’t settle like lead in my chest like it used to. My eyes strayed to the bedchamber, and I knew why it no longer affected me so deeply. All the changes I’d gone through had led me to Poppy.

  I faced my brother and took a deep breath. “Have you been feeding?”

  His brows pulled together. “Yes.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Have you been feeding?” he fired back.

  “I haven’t needed to,” I replied, crossing my arms as surprise flickered across his face. “But you clearly haven’t.”

  A muscle twitched in his temple, and Attes’s image flashed in my mind. “I didn’t come here to talk to you about my feeding habits.”

  “Why did you come?”

  “Two things,” he answered. “We finally finished searching the Shadow Temple.”

  One of the first things I’d ordered was for one of our generals and their guards to watch the Shadow Temple, figuring that was where a Primal of Death would go. So far, there was no sign of him.

  Malik reached inside the inner pocket of his tunic and pulled out a slip of folded parchment, offering it to me. “And we received a message from Pensdurth.”

  Before I even took the letter, I knew I wouldn’t like what I read. The metallic scent clinging to the fine rag paper made from linen told me as much.

  Blood.

  Stale, dried blood.

  CHAPTER 8

  CASTEEL

  My anger and disgust grew as I unfolded the parchment and quickly read the words scrawled in thick, rusty crimson.

  The message wasn’t long or addressed to anyone in particular.

  It didn’t need to be.

  Your claim to Solis is as tainted as the bloodline that bore you. Our allegiance is forever pledged to the one true King of all the realms. For he has risen, and all those who stand against him and the Blood Crown will fall.

  My fingers crumpling the edges of the parchment, I looked down at the signature of the jackass claiming dukedom over Pensdurth. “Eldric Ashwood,” I murmured. “Sounds like the name of an asshole if I ever heard one.”

  Malik snorted.

  My gaze flicked to him. “I assume you read this.”

  He nodded.

  I reread the first sentence. “I see Isbeth never stopped with that tainted-bloodline bullshit.”

  “No, she didn’t. It was one of her favorite phrases.”

  A muscle ticked in my jaw. “Are you familiar with this Ashwood?”

  “Familiar enough,” Malik said. “Only a handful of Ascended were a part of Isbeth’s inner circle. Eldric was…” Malik trailed off and looked away briefly. The tart taste of unease formed. “He was one of those Isbeth sent away shortly before we left for Oak Ambler.”

  “Why was he sent to Pensdurth? Wasn’t there already a Duke overseeing the city?”

  “There was—or is. Goffry Beric.”

  I watched him closely. “You didn’t know why he was sent there? Or where the others were sent?”

  “Not until this letter showed,” he answered. “Like you, I figured she was sending them to secure the other cities or to back up those already in ruling positions there. But I couldn’t be sure.”

  Since the letter came from Ashwood instead of Beric, it seemed to me that Beric was no longer in charge of Pensdurth.

  “And before you ask, Millie didn’t know either. Isbeth’s trust in me only went so far,” Malik continued. “And the same could be said for Millie.”

  The mention of Poppy’s sister caused my jaw to tighten. I’d been wary of her from the start but was even more so now that I knew Kolis could hijack the minds of the Ascended and Revenants.

  Who’s to say he hadn’t already?

  “I find it hard to believe she wasn’t privy to her mother’s plans,” I said finally.

  “And how would you know what Millie was or wasn’t privy to?” Malik’s amber eyes turned cool as he held my stare. “You don’t know her. You don’t know shit about what she—” He cut himself off, his mouth clamping shut as he took a step back. “There was a time when Isbeth trusted Millie, but she wasn’t a fool, and there was only so much Millie was willing to do to prove her loyalty.”

  I stiffened, having a good idea what Isbeth would’ve demanded of her daughter as proof of her allegiance.

  What she would’ve demanded of him.

  Malik held my stare for several more moments. “We knew about Penellaphe’s prophecy, and what Isbeth believed it meant. That’s it.”

  As Poppy always said, reading emotions wasn’t a lie detector, but I believed he spoke the truth. However, I could still taste his unease. There was something he wasn’t saying.

  “And how did Isbeth learn about the prophecy? Malec?”

  “Callum.”

  My lips flattened at the mention of the golden Rev. “I assume he’s still missing?”

  “Unfortunately.” Malik sighed. “If anyone knows anything about Kolis, it’s him. The fucker is old. And he…”

  “What?”

  He ran his hand over his head. “It seemed like he was more puppeteer than servant to Isbeth.”

  “I have a hard time imagining the bitch being okay with that.”

  “I don’t think she noticed, to be honest. Isbeth enjoyed her flattery, and Callum made ass-kissing an art form.”

  I was going to make an art form of ripping off the fucker’s head. “When did Callum show up, by the way?”

  “Honestly?” He cocked his head. “Several hundred years ago.”

  My brows rose. “Really? I never saw him when I was there.”

  “I didn’t either until I…” His features tensed. He didn’t need to finish for me to understand. He meant until he gained Isbeth’s trust. Played the game. “But I got the impression he’d been around her for quite some time by then.”

  Then he really could’ve been pulling the strings. “What else do you know about Ashwood?” I asked, shifting my focus back to Pensdurth.

  Malik was silent for a moment. “There’s a lot you don’t know about the Ascended—about all of them,” he told me. “But Ashwood is one of the crueler vamprys. Life will not be easy for those living under his rule.”

  While I was curious to learn what he thought I didn’t know about the Ascended, that wasn’t entirely relevant at the moment. Because what I did know meant that every mortal within Pensdurth’s Rise was in danger. “His rule of the city will be short-lived since he’s in open rebellion.”

  Malik’s head cocked. “What are you going to do?”

  As far as I knew, there wasn’t a sizable enclave of those who knew the truth about the Blood Crown and supported Atlantia in Pensdurth—nothing like the one in Masadonia. I couldn’t enlist their aid like I had when we wreaked havoc on the Teermans—the Duke and Duchess who’d once overseen Masadonia and the Ascended there. They’d helped me achieve my goal then, but it had cost innocent lives. Like Vikter’s. And that was on me.

  Folding the letter, I thought about Reaver’s taunts regarding my duty to the realm. He hadn’t been entirely off the mark, but he also wasn’t completely correct.

  “Have Kieran send a regiment to Pensdurth to give Ashwood and those there a chance to surrender peacefully.”

  An eyebrow rose. “They won’t.” A faint smile appeared as he studied me. “As I’m sure you’re aware.”

  “I am,” I acknowledged. “If those in Pensdurth refuse, then they are to secure the city and the safety of those within by any means necessary.”

  “Sending a large enough regiment through the Blood Forest to carry out that order will be no easy feat,” he pointed out.

  “No, it won’t.” A large group would draw the Craven like flies to honey. “That’s why our father will lead forces to ensure the contingent headed for Pensdurth can do so without loss. They can return once they’re through to the road to Pensdurth. After all, our father is…how did you put it? Restless.”

  Malik stared at me for a moment and then let out a short laugh. “I’m sure you have no other reason for sending him.”

  I kept my expression blank. “Of course not.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  I ignored that as something occurred to me. “Have we heard from the forces we sent to Masadonia?”

  “We have not.”

  Shit. That wasn’t good. “Have Kieran send some scouts. We need to know what is happening there,” I said. “I need to get back to Poppy.”

  Malik remained. “Is there a reason you are asking me to give Kieran these orders instead of having me send him to you?”

  I kept my expression blank. “No.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Why would I waste time having you retrieve Kieran, only for me to tell him what I just told you?”

  He arched a brow. “That response is far too logical.”

  My gaze flicked up and then returned to him, the smallest sigh escaping me.

  “Fine. I’ll find Kieran and let him know,” he said, backing up.

  “Just one more thing.” I stopped him. “Did you talk to our father about our recent visitor?”

  “I assume you’re talking about Attes.”

  I nodded, figuring Kieran had given him the Primal’s name.

  “I did.” He squinted as he brushed his hair back from his face. “It was kind of a strange conversation.”

  My head tilted. “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know.” He lowered his hand. “He said he knew our bloodline was a strong one, but that he didn’t know anything about who we descended from.”

  “What was strange about that?”

  The corners of his lips curled as he pressed them together. “Most Elemental Atlantians are proud of who they’re descended from, charting their ancestry like our mother has—she has the damn family tree painted and hanging in the palace. Our father? Nothing. And he’s only ever spoken of his parents and Elian.”

  My brows lowered. “I hadn’t really thought of that.”

  “Me neither. I just figured he didn’t care. But…” He exhaled roughly. “I don’t know. I just got the feeling he wasn’t being honest when I spoke to him about Attes.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “No, I guess not.”

  “But why would he lie?” I said.

  “Exactly. Still, it could have just been my impression.” He shrugged. “I’m off to find Kieran.”

  I wasn’t sure what to think about that as I turned to the chamber, noticing the thick grooves my claws had dug into the wood of the doorframe. I stopped and looked back at my brother’s retreating form. “Malik?”

  He halted and faced me. “Yeah?”

  I sighed as tense silence stretched between us. Fuck. It never used to be this way. Sure, we’d had our scuffles growing up. What brothers didn’t? But it wasn’t like this.

  Malik and I had talked briefly while Poppy first slept—or yelled at each other rather. And I understood why he’d stayed with the Blood Queen. It had been for Millicent. I would’ve done the same for Poppy. But things were obviously still strained between us. Who knew if we would ever return to how we were before? But he…damn it, he was my brother, and I only met Poppy when I did because of him. Because I’d been willing to destroy cities and lives to free him from the Ascended.

  I loved him.

  I cleared my throat. “Has Millicent returned?”

  He clenched his jaw. “No.”

  “You think she’ll come back?” I asked.

  His gaze cut to mine. “You may still have a hard time believing this, but she wants a relationship with Poppy. So, yes. She’ll come back for her,” he said. And with that, he walked off.

  I didn’t stop him a third time.

  The letter from Pensdurth and the implications fell to the wayside the moment I entered the bedchamber. Quietly closing the door, I carefully made my way to Poppy’s side, navigating the thick, gnarled roots the color of ash that covered the floor.

  The bed.

  Poppy.

  The roots had appeared within an hour of me laying her on the mattress. They climbed Wayfair’s wall, snaked their way to the window, and then came through it.

  I doubted they had gone unnoticed.

  At first, I had attempted to stop them, remembering all too clearly when this had happened before. The roots had come for Poppy when she nearly died among the ruins in Irelone. I was fucking panicked, and Kieran…

  He hadn’t been in the chamber when we returned. A fresh, pale-violet nightgown had been on the bed, and fresh water filled the tub. Food had also been placed on the small dining table. But wherever he was, he’d sensed the panic I didn’t think to shield and burst through the door.

  He’d joined me without a word, tearing the roots away from her. It didn’t matter how many we snapped, though. They kept coming, curling over her legs and spreading across her stomach and chest. Then Reaver arrived.