I blinked.

  Cas lifted his head. A smirk played across his lips as the shadows faded from his face. “Are you able to behave yourself?”

  My eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. But I’m pretty sure I’ll knock you through a wall if you tell me to behave myself one more time.”

  His laugh was lighter and warmer, sounding more like the Cas I knew.

  Smoothing my hands over my stomach, I refocused on the extremely important topic. “How was the connection severed?”

  “I asked Reaver to return to Iliseeum to see if anyone knew of a way.” He went to the table and turned over two slender glasses. “Luckily, he found someone.”

  I pressed a hand to my stomach. “The gods are awake.”

  Picking up the decanter, he looked over his shoulder at me. An eyebrow rose.

  “I didn’t forget that,” I explained. “Okay. I temporarily forgot it.”

  “Understandable.” He turned his attention back to the table.

  “Which god helped?”

  “It wasn’t a god.” Cas poured some deep-red liquid into the glasses. “It was a Primal.”

  My mouth dropped open in surprise. “Really?”

  “Really. And if you thought that was surprising, just wait.” Placing the decanter down, he turned with the glasses in hand and offered me one. “This Primal god is clearly an ancestor of mine.”

  I tensed. “Come again?”

  “Yep.” He raised the glass. “Wine?”

  I took it from him. “You’re descended from a Primal god?”

  “You only have to take one look at him to know.” He lifted his glass to his lips. “Looks so much like Malik and our father that it was eerie as fuck.”

  “Wow.” I didn’t know why that shocked me—or why it seemed…important.

  “Apparently, you’re not the only one with an interesting bloodline,” he remarked.

  “No doubt.” I took a sip of what turned out to be some sort of mulled wine. I shook off the weird feeling. “What’s his name?”

  “Attes.”

  “Attes?” I repeated, my stomach dipping weirdly. “I…I don’t know of a Primal god with that name.”

  “Neither did Kieran or I. But he knows Kolis. Not a fan.” He watched me over the rim of his glass. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said, unsure why I felt so odd.

  As Cas explained how the mark had been removed, I was actually grateful that I had no memory of the event. However, I was stunned that the Primal would put himself through something like that. “He used his own hand to weaken the power of Nektas’s blood?”

  Cas nodded.

  “Why? Why would he do that for someone he doesn’t know?” I asked, but the words I spoke didn’t sit right with me.

  “I don’t know.” Cas dropped into the wingback chair. “But I imagine he knows your grandparents.”

  I jerked, nearly spilling the wine. “Grandparents,” I whispered. “It’s so weird to think of the true Primal of Life and a Primal of Death as my grandparents.” I took a rather large, unladylike gulp of the wine. “How badly was he hurt?”

  “You really do not want a description of that.” He leaned back, resting the hand holding his glass on the arm of the chair. “But don’t worry. He said he would heal.”

  A tiny, sick part of me wanted the description, but I managed to ignore it. Instead, I moved on to something equally disturbing. “Where was I marked?”

  His hand tightened around his glass. His anger rose sharply, lashing like frozen rain against my skin. “Come sit with me.”

  Alarm bells rang. “I don’t know if I should.” I held his stare. “Tell me.”

  A muscle thrummed along his jaw. “Your chest.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath.

  “It was here.” He placed his hand in the center of his chest.

  Blood pounded in my ears as I stood there. I’d been doing so well with everything I was being told. I had listened. I was processing, remaining levelheaded, even as I realized Kolis had stripped me of my free will.

  But I wasn’t calm. I wasn’t really processing anything. I was just numb. And it took hearing that he’d touched me there for me to realize that. Disgust coated my skin, and I wanted nothing more than to take a wire brush to it. It didn’t matter that it had happened on some sort of metaphysical level. He’d touched me. He’d used me. A knot lodged in the back of my throat and my eyes stung. My skin prickled.

  I wouldn’t cry, godsdamn it.

  It didn’t matter if they were tears of anger. I would not shed a fucking tear. It had nothing to do with it being a vulnerability or a weakness. Crying felt like…acknowledgment. Like I was giving shape and form to what Kolis had done, making it real. And I couldn’t allow it to feel real.

  Casteel leaned forward, his eyes never leaving me as he placed his glass on the floor by the chair.

  A faint tremor coursed through me—through the chamber.

  “Shit,” he growled, coming to his feet. “This is why I wanted you to sit with me.”

  “I’m fine,” I heard myself say.

  “I don’t think you are.”

  “I am.” The center of my chest throbbed. “Because I’m going to kill him.”

  A surge of energy coursed down my arm, followed by a sharp crack. The delicate glass in my hand and the wine inside shattered into dust. The distinct smell of burnt ozone filled the air as I stared at my empty hand. The eather ramped up—

  “Sweetheart.”

  The sound of Cas’s voice immediately quelled the wave of volatile rage, easing the knot that had fisted the center of my chest. The hum of eather dissipated as my gaze lifted to him.

  “That was impressive,” he remarked.

  I turned my hand over, not even a single drop of wine or shard of glass to be seen. It was as if neither had existed. “More like a little scary.”

  “Impressive,” he repeated, taking the hand that had just obliterated some very real objects from existence without a hint of trepidation.

  Without saying a word, he returned to the chair and sat, pulling me onto his lap. Folding an arm around me, he tucked my head under his chin.

  “Why?” I whispered. I hated how small my voice sounded. Loathed it. “Why did he try to take control of me?”

  “I don’t know. All he said was that he wanted what was his and seems to believe you are a part of achieving that.” His chest rose with a deep breath.

  “You know,” he said softly after several moments, drawing his hand up my back and under the braid, “it’s okay to not be fine.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut against the sting that had now become a burn.

  “I don’t think many people would be okay in your situation,” he continued, kissing the crown of my head. “I wouldn’t be.”

  My lips quivered as I pressed them together.

  “I wasn’t after I escaped captivity.” His fingers brushed the base of my neck. “I know what it’s like to have no autonomy.”

  “This whole thing with Kolis is nothing compared to what you went through,” I told him. “I’m just being…I don’t know. Overly emotional.”

  “You’re not being overly emotional, Poppy, and we’re not going to play the whose-trauma-is-more-significant game.” He gently squeezed the back of my neck. “But you’ve spent your entire life fighting against those who sought to control you in one way or another. What Kolis did?” His fingers slipped back down my spine. “Yeah, it was extreme, but it’s not the first time you’ve had to fight against someone exerting their influence over you.”

  Gods, he was right.

  The Priestesses. The Teermans. Duke Teerman. Alastir. Commander Jansen. My mother. Even Casteel, in the beginning.

  “You can talk to me.” Cas curled his fingers around my braid. “If you need to, whenever you want.”

  I pressed a kiss to his chest. “I know.”

  “Do you?”

  My heart stuttered at the strain in his voice—at what I thought I heard in those two words. I lifted my head to look at him. My senses stretched out, but it felt like I was brushing against the stone wall of the Rise. He was shielding his emotions, but I heard it in his voice.

  Doubt, sharp and cutting.

  My stomach twisted with unease. “I do know that.” I touched his cheek. “Do you think I don’t?”

  His jaw muscles flexed against my palm, and my stomach twisted even further as the seconds ticked by.

  “Cas,” I whispered, running my fingers over his stubble. “Do you—?” A sudden and intense, red-hot echo of pain flared deep within my chest—pain that wasn’t mine.

  Casteel immediately moved, grasping my shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know.” The ache thumped right beside my heart, stirring the essence. “I can feel—” I tore myself away from Casteel, stumbling to my feet as pain jabbed at my skin like a thousand burning needles.

  Casteel was suddenly on his feet beside me. I breathed in deeply, trying to speak, but the pain slammed into me like a scorching wind. He shouted something, but I couldn’t focus on what he said as I looked down at my arms, half-expecting to find flames crawling up them. To see blood pouring from open wounds, but they were fine.

  I was fine.

  But someone wasn’t.

  Multiple someones.

  And I didn’t only feel the pain.

  Eather flooded my veins as scalding agony soaked the air, making it difficult to draw in even the thinnest of breaths. My legs shook as the taste of bitter panic and tart confusion joined the fear and icy terror. It settled over me, the weight oppressive. The sheer magnitude of it—the onslaught of their pain and confusion, their terror and uncertainty, was unbearable. I could feel myself caving under it and knew I would if I didn’t do something to stop it. And I had to. I needed to—

  Steady hands clasped the sides of my face, grounding me. “Talk to me, Poppy.” Cool amber eyes lit by a bright silver aura met mine. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

  “Pain. So much pain and panic,” I croaked, grasping his wrists with trembling hands. “I’ve never felt anything like it. It’s so vast. So intense—oh, gods, it has to be coming from hundreds—no, thousands of people. Maybe more.”

  His eyes widened. “You need to shut it out.”

  “I can’t—”

  “Yes, you can. You just need to picture a wall—the thickest Rise you can imagine,” he instructed. “Build it as tall as the skies—”

  “You don’t understand. I can’t.” The eather pushed against my skin, and I suddenly knew what I’d felt earlier. The unease. That was the first warning. But of what? I didn’t know as the need to go to those who were hurt bore down on me. “I have to find them.”

  “Find who, Poppy? And where? Because the source of what you’re feeling can’t be from here.” His thumbs chased away tears I hadn’t realized had fallen. “If it were, we would hear something. We would be notified.”

  “I know, but I have to find them. They’re scared and…and confused. Almost as if—”

  I cried out as another outpouring of pain and terror seized every fiber of my being. It fell like a crimson shadow over the chamber, over us, painting the walls red and soaking the floor in blood.

  Casteel was speaking, but I couldn’t understand his words as I stared at my arm. It was raised as if I had attempted to ward something off…or perhaps call upon something. Shadows appeared under my skin and swirled.

  Casteel stiffened against me, and I knew. I knew without asking that he had also noticed what was happening beneath my skin. “Poppy.”

  I wrenched myself free of him, turning as the eather swelled inside me. I had to do something. I had to stop this. I needed to.

  The essence of the Primals—of me—seemed to understand the rushing, desperate thoughts and responded at once. The eather seized control. It was like an instinct buried deep within me, never touched before, had been unlocked from the furthest corners of my mind. I didn’t think. I didn’t hesitate.

  I simply lifted my arm; fingers splayed wide. Shadowy silver wrapped in tendrils of gold sparked from my fingertips, and the air no more than a foot in front of me hissed and then split open. The tear crackled and spat as it grew and widened.

  “Poppy!” Casteel shouted. “Don’t!”

  My eyes locked with wide, wild amber ones when I glanced over my shoulder at him. I wanted to explain what I was doing, but I wasn’t even sure I could. Because my mind hadn’t caught up with this newly discovered instinct, and there was no time.

  The pain called to me.

  And so did death.

  A strange scent drifted from the opening—an acrid and pungent aroma that reminded me of burnt oil but sharper, smokier. “I have to.”

  Casteel’s flesh seemed to thin, causing the angles of his face to become stark. Panic filled his voice. “Don’t you dare, Poppy! Don’t—”

  I walked through the opening, leaving one realm and stepping into another—

  Noise.

  That was the first thing I noticed as the silver glow of eather faded, revealing that I stood among a small, sun-dappled cluster of four or five trees. So much noise came from every direction. What sounded like trumpets blared almost continuously, interrupting the shouts and voices coming from every direction—voices that seemed to grow louder, get closer, and then quickly fade away.

  And the smell? That burnt-oil scent had increased, mixing with a damp, fishy aroma and something that reminded me of the cramped streets and crowded homes near the Rise in Masadonia.

  My heart thumped as the voices grew closer, but they sounded strange. “… a flow of ash, rock, and gas that can move upward of four hundred miles per hour. There’s no escaping an eruption of this magnitude. It’s…” The voice choked, and then a throat cleared. “It’s devastation on a scale we haven’t seen in…”

  I turned toward the voice, spying the shadow of someone walking quickly past the trees. I couldn’t place the accent and its sharp, quick speech pattern.

  “…the loss of life will be significant.” Another voice reached me, this time feminine, and it came from behind me.

  “How could there be no warning?” someone else questioned from my left. The way the man had said warning, it was like he’d dropped the r. “No signs?”

  Although I had no idea what event these people were speaking of, it had to be what I’d felt.

  Throat dry, I walked from the grouping of trees—

  And jerked to a halt, my eyes widening and lips parting. I couldn’t process what I was seeing. Absolutely none of it made sense.

  My body flashed hot and then cold as I stared past a neatly trimmed lawn filled with people scattered about, some alone and others in small groups. None of them wore anything I recognized. Gone were the graceful or even drab gowns I was familiar with. Women here wore odd, snug trousers made of some sort of strange blue material or tight skirts that skimmed the knees, exposing what many would consider a scandalous length of leg. Men seemed to favor shirts with peculiar insignias rather than fitted tunics or waistcoats. Some of the breeches were short—really, daringly short—no matter the sex. Some blouses didn’t even cover the wearer’s stomach and appeared more like a corset sheared in half. The footwear was also puzzling. Their shoes were either pointy and heeled or flat and brightly colored.

  The strangeness didn’t end there. I saw hair the color of the sky and other unnatural shades. Many had tiny, often white objects in their ears, and nearly everyone held a rectangular object in their hands that they either stared down at or spoke into.

  Those who passed me seemed to either be unaware of my presence or would merely glance toward me with an expression I imagined mirrored mine before quickly looking away.

  Bewildered, I lifted my gaze past the people. Dizziness swept over me. I was before some sort of river full of choppy, dark water. It wasn’t the uninviting inlet that held none of the beauty of Saion’s Cove that caused my heart to thump as if it were trying to break free of my chest. It was a large vessel moving across it. A type of ship I’d never seen before, with more than two levels and taller than many homes. It had an open deck that people stood on. Beneath them were what I could only describe as several metal boxes with wheels larger and thicker than anything I’d seen on a carriage. There was more than one of the drifting platforms in what appeared to be a harbor of sorts. I could see at least three of them, one traveling in the opposite direction.

  But it was what stood across the river that caused the air to slowly leak from my lungs. I gaped at the towering structures of steel and glass that reached far above the clouds, dwarfing everything around them and casting long shadows over the earth below. The buildings were as tall as mountains, yet many appeared slim, and I couldn’t even begin to fathom how they’d been built. Surely, the gods had to be involved in such a creation. But something about them seemed too cold to have been shaped by anything with blood coursing through its veins.

  I took another step forward, my toes curling into the damp grass. Where in the actual fuck was I? A seed of panic took root, stroking the essence. My hands fisted as I scanned what I was beginning to think was some kind of park—

  My mouth completely dropped open as my gaze landed on a colossal statue standing proudly on an island. I couldn’t decipher how far away the towering lady in flowing robes was, but it couldn’t be that far. I didn’t know what material she had been crafted from, but it carried a green sheen. She held a torch, thrusting it into the sky high above her, and a crown sat upon her head. It must be a depiction of a goddess. Perhaps she had been responsible for these impressive structures. However, she looked nothing like the renderings of the goddesses I’d seen.

  I dragged my gaze from the statue and saw a bridge raised in the air like a suspended pathway with enormous stone pillars anchoring thick, web-like cables that seemed to hold it up by sheer force. It stretched far across the water and was packed with those strange metal boxes on wheels.

  “…the city, located about five miles away from the eruption sight, includes the neighboring towns,” a male, speaking fast, his tone harried, caught my attention. “…has a population estimated to be three million.”