“That’s actually a welcome relief.” He stretched out a long leg. “Wish the same could be said about a certain Primal of Death.”

  “Doesn’t mean I’m not still pissed.”

  “No need to tell me that. Your anger is like tiny claws scratching at my skin.”

  My eyes narrowed. Tiny claws scratching? I held my tongue. Even I knew better than to actually fuck with a Fate despite—wait. I stared at him. “Your eyes.”

  “What about them?”

  I couldn’t bring myself to say it because the implication seemed impossible.

  When I didn’t answer, he draped an arm over the back of the chair. “You can see them.”

  “No shit.”

  “But can you see this?” He tilted his head and pointed at the vine-like tattoo crawling up his face.

  “The shit on your face? Yeah, I can see it.”

  He eyed me for a few moments. “Only two other beings besides my kind can see what you can. The true Primal of Life and the true Primal of Death.” The hand he had resting on the table began to tap slowly. “You being able to is one of those unexpected developments. You shouldn’t be able to, Joining or not.” The skin at the corners of his eyes creased as he squinted. “Interesting.” He exhaled heavily. “My name is Aydun.”

  Like I gave a fuck what his name was.

  The look on his face left me wondering if he could somehow hear my thoughts.

  “You ready to behave yourself?”

  I clamped my jaw tight.

  “I’ll take your silence as a yes.” He winked.

  It was like someone had snipped the invisible strings holding me in place. Control came rushing back, and I stumbled forward, catching myself as the fur receded and my teeth and fingers returned to normal.

  “Huh.” He studied me. “Now that I can see your features…”

  I forced myself to take a deep breath, reminding myself of what was at stake. If I provoked him and he lashed out, Poppy would inevitably pay the price. “What about them?”

  “You know exactly what. You met said what.”

  “Attes,” I guessed. Considering this guy was a Fate, I shouldn’t be surprised to learn that he knew I’d had a meet-and-greet with the Primal.

  “I can tell you’re going to be as problematic as him.” His gaze flicked away. “Your Queen did a very, very bad thing.”

  Tension returned to my muscles. “What do you think my wife did?”

  Aydun huffed. “She crossed the Primal Veil.”

  My brows snapped together. “The fuck?”

  His eyes rolled, and with those churning colors, it was a strange sight to behold. “Do you think this realm—the one that holds Solis, Atlantia, and even Iliseeum—is the only one? If so, I’ve truly underestimated the arrogance of the Atlantians.”

  “Can’t say I ever gave it much thought.”

  “Of course not.” He gestured at the other chair. “Have a seat.”

  “I’m good.”

  “It wasn’t a request.”

  “I know.” I remained right where I stood. “Arae or not, I don’t trust you.”

  The colors in his irises spun and then settled. “I did not come here to harm you. The last thing I want to deal with on top of the mess your wife’s Ascension caused is said pissed-off wife.”

  “Her Ascension—”

  “Don’t lie to yourself, Casteel. Or to me.”

  My hands fisted. I wasn’t surprised that he knew my name. He was a Fate. But I didn’t like hearing him say it. “So, Kolis is awake. That’s not her fault.”

  “You’re correct. It’s not.” He extended the other leg. “But that’s not the mess I’m talking about. What I’m speaking about is what is beyond the Veil. What your wife’s Ascension caused.”

  I fought the urge to claim that she hadn’t caused anything. But that wouldn’t get me answers or tell me where my wife was. “She felt pain and death in a way I’ve never seen her experience it before.”

  “She felt the pain and death of thousands—tens of thousands. And then some,” he stated, causing my entire body to jerk. “When the loss of life is that great, a Primal of Life will always be drawn to it. Being that she is a true Primal of Life, she was not immune to the need. Neither was Seraphena, but she couldn’t cross the Primal Veil as easily as your wife apparently can. Seraphena was stopped. Your wife could not be.”

  I probably shouldn’t have felt pride at hearing that, but I did.

  “Luckily, I was able to keep you from making the same mistake. Though imagining Holland dealing with both of you?” A grin appeared. “That would’ve been entertaining.”

  “Are you…?” My chest hollowed. “Are you saying she is in some land beyond a Veil with someone named Holland?”

  He nodded. “Holland is like me.”

  “That’s not exactly reassuring.”

  “He’s far more patient than I am. Is that reassuring?”

  I didn’t even bother answering that. “I want to go to her. Now.”

  He snorted softly. “That’s not going to happen.”

  Feeling the essence swell, I stepped forward.

  A brow rose. “She will return to you soon enough.”

  “That’s not good enough, Aydun.”

  “She will return unharmed, and that will have to be good enough, Hawke.” Bright silver streaked through his irises. “Unless you force me to cause you harm. And you know what happens then.” His smile was sharp like a blade. “Do you want her to be vulnerable again?”

  His message was loud and clear. I halted as a surge of raw fury washed over me. The atmosphere around us charged as my nails sharpened again, pricking my palms. When I spoke, the tone had a rough, jarring edge and a low rumble. “You’re threatening her?”

  The question hung heavy in the air with chilling intensity as he watched me. “No. I’m warning you.”

  “That’s one and the same.”

  “I suppose it is.” He crossed his arms. “You don’t fully understand that you’re no longer a singular entity. But one would think you’d already feel enough guilt over being the cause of her weaker state.”

  I flinched.

  Fucking flinched.

  Power pulsed through my veins as I stared at the Fate, wanting to unleash the eather.

  But something flickered over his features. The right side of his lips curled before quickly flattening out. It was fast, but I saw it and wondered if he wanted me to lash out.

  “She’s not indestructible, Casteel.”

  I hadn’t forgotten—would never forget. And it felt like a fist punching straight through my chest.

  “So, tell me something, Casteel. Will you become the…fatal flaw in her armor?” he asked.

  A chill swept down my spine as he repeated what Attes had said. “You’ve been eavesdropping, haven’t you?”

  Aydun smirked.

  Suspicion grew as I relaxed my hands. The fucker was right. Just as Attes had been. Losing my temper and getting my ass beaten down by a Fate would only hurt her. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the fury down, burying it.

  “You are…unexpected,” he remarked.

  “So I’ve been told.”

  Aydun smiled, but it didn’t look entirely real. Almost as if he were merely going through the motions. “Well, I’m relieved to see you’re not a fucking idiot. Besides, you and I need to have a little conversation about what your wife’s Ascension truly means.”

  The flesh on the back of my neck tightened.

  He was quiet for a few moments. “You’ve figured it out—what your wife truly is—and you’re wise enough to keep it to yourself.”

  I wasn’t sure if it was wisdom, disbelief, or distrust.

  “But what you don’t truly understand is that what she is should not exist. Not anymore.”

  “She is not a what,” I seethed, my tenuous hold on my temper slipping. “She is a person—”

  “One whose Ascension has set in motion a chain of events that I fear cannot be stopped.” Aydun leaned forward. “Do you know how important balance is?” He went on without giving me a chance to answer. “You probably don’t. The gods went to sleep long before you were born, and even the eldest of your kind has forgotten to ensure such knowledge was passed on, despite its importance.”

  I didn’t say anything, hoping he’d get to the fucking point because I was more concerned about Poppy. She was in some foreign land, and I couldn’t do shit to help her if she needed it. I glanced down at the gold imprint. She was okay. She would be.

  “Everything here and beyond relies on balance, Casteel.” The chair creaked as he tipped back and picked up another piece of cheese. “Where there is prosperity, there must be loss. With love, hate must exist. Life must give way to death. And so on and so forth.”

  That sounded like a load of shit, but I kept that to myself. “I’ll have to take your word for it.”

  “But it is more than that. There must be a balance of powers, too. When there’s not, there will be signs—ones hard to ignore.”

  Immediately, a hard-to-ignore sign came to mind. “The sun?”

  “That would qualify as one.”

  I exhaled. “There are more?”

  “Many more,” Aydun said. “Her Ascension unsettled the balance and freed Kolis. The damage from her Ascension, which so many prayed would never happen, has already been done and cannot be undone. That bell has been rung. The die cast. The bridge burned. The last chapter of the story written—”

  “I get it,” I growled. “For fuck’s sake, man.”

  “But what you don’t get is that her Ascension was not the only threat to the balance. Penellaphe is the Harbinger. The Bringer.” The color of the ink on the sides of Aydun’s face deepened and began churning as his eyes held mine. “Of Death and Destruction.”

  “Kolis,” I bit out.

  Aydun smiled faintly. “He is the Great Conspirator.”

  My eyes narrowed. “And?”

  “And it wasn’t understood what that meant until it was too late.”

  I stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate on what sounded like nothing more than disjointed thoughts. He didn’t. “Attes was right.”

  “About?”

  “That you are all vague as fuck.”

  His lips flattened. “We wouldn’t have to be if any of you were even half as wise as Eythos. Which isn’t saying much.”

  “What does this have to do with Kolis’s brother?”

  “Almost everything.” He sat back. “Either way, what your wife’s Ascension has created will continue to add to the imbalance. It’s started the clock—one that’s ticking and counting down.”

  I knew what he was about to say next. The words felt tattooed into my bones. “‘For the end will come from the west—’”

  “‘To destroy the east and lay waste to all which lies between,’” Aydun finished with a heavy sigh. “The end has begun. And when it comes, what happened beyond the Primal Veil will seem like a blessing compared to what will happen throughout the realms.”

  CHAPTER 14

  POPPY

  I dreamed of blood and terror, knowing, even in sleep, that what I’d seen and felt before was nothing more than a precursor to what I saw now.

  It began with a shockwave rolling down hills and across once-tranquil waters, shattering everything in its path: trees, buildings, people. Blood filled the ruined streets as a current of heat and ash raced across the landscape, igniting everything left standing and burning those who managed to survive the initial blast from the inside. The flow of death traveled wide, forcing hundreds of thousands to their knees as they clawed at their throats, choking.

  Large chunks of rock fell from the sky, striking people down where they stood or walked without warning—burying villages and cities in burning ash until it looked like a fiery winter had visited the land.

  The very earth itself rattled as more of the Ancients woke, sparking eruptions from other mountains, those above and below the seas. Land broke apart and sank, taking entire cities into watery graves as waves taller than the steel buildings lining the coasts crashed through them.

  All the agony, terror, hopelessness, and desperation suddenly stopped, like a candle being snuffed out. One after another after another…

  I knew then that what I saw was no dream.

  It was the end I couldn’t escape, not even in my unconsciousness. But I couldn’t wake myself or stop what I saw until the last of the agony and terror faded.

  Only then was I able to pull myself free. My eyelids fluttered, heavy and reluctant, as dull pain throbbed along the base of my skull and throughout my limbs.

  The memory of chunks of earth and rock hurling at me flashed vividly in my mind. I was surprised that all I felt was a dull pain.

  Forcing my lips to part, I drew in a shaky breath. The air was fresh, carrying the scent of something woodsy and sweet, like damp leaves and crushed wildflowers, and a faint but continuous hum of energy. My senses immediately sharpened.

  I wasn’t in Wayfair.

  And I wasn’t alone.

  A presence drew closer, bringing a different scent with it—an earthy and smoky one, like rich leather. It wasn’t entirely unfamiliar, making me think of narrow, dusty stairwells and secluded chambers. Of—

  My eyes flew open and fixed on a wall of glass and…fluffy, white clouds beyond it. I snapped upright, twisting at the waist. My entire world came to a grinding halt.

  All I could think was that what I saw couldn’t be real, but…he was standing a few feet from me, and I couldn’t move—couldn’t even breathe—as my gaze swept over him, searching for any hints that my eyes were tricking me. He was dressed in a way I’d never seen before, wearing loose, white pants and a light-gray tunic instead of the darker colors of a guard and a layer of armor. But his hair was that sandy shade of blond and was, as he would say, in need of a trim. His handsome features were sun-kissed and weathered, and his eyes were the blue of the Stroud Sea.

  My hands trembled as we looked at each other. I was breathing again. Maybe too fast. I thought the eather should be going haywire inside me, but it was calm. Practically quiet. I really couldn’t focus on that right now, though.

  “Poppy,” he said in that low, gravelly voice.

  His voice.

  Vikter’s.

  One I’d never thought to hear again.

  “It’s really me,” he said, and then he gave me that slightly crooked grin of his.

  I sprang to my feet, moving before my brain could really catch up with what I was doing. Closing the distance between us, I threw myself at him.

  Vikter caught me with a deep chuckle, staggering back a step as I face-planted his chest. Clutching the sides of his tunic, I breathed him in as I felt his chest rise sharply against my forehead. I could feel him. He was warm. Breathing. Alive.

  “Poppy.” Vikter’s voice was lower, rougher. “You’re shaking.” His arms tightened around me as I felt his chin graze the top of my head. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt you shake like this.”

  I was quaking like a newborn colt standing for the first time but couldn’t quell the tremors. “Is this a dream?” I asked, half-afraid of the answer. “Like what Tawny had?”

  “No.”

  My breath snagged. “Was that a dream?”

  He pressed his chin against the crown of my head. “It was a dream of a different sort.”

  “I have no idea what that means.”

  His raspy chuckle caused my heart to swell. “You will,” he said. “One day, when you least expect it, you’ll understand.”

  A shudder swept through me, leaving my knees weak. That answer sounded so much like Vikter that it was ridiculous. “I’ve missed you.” Tears dampened my cheeks and likely his shirt. I wanted to stop them, to be strong like he’d taught me to be. Like he’d raised me. And I knew he was never that great with showing emotion, let alone dealing with rivers of tears, but I couldn’t help it. The tears kept coming. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I know.” A strong hand folded around the back of my head. “I’ve missed you, and I wish I hadn’t left you like I did. I failed you—”

  I jerked back, lifting my head as his final words to me echoed like a painful reminder. “You didn’t fail me.” His face was a bit blurry through the tears as I gripped the front of his now very damp tunic. “Do you hear me? You didn’t.”

  A small smile appeared as he cupped my cheek with a palm still calloused from handling a sword. “My sole duty was to keep you safe.” His throat worked on a swallow. “I made a promise, Poppy. One I was unable to keep. And—”

  I blinked back more tears, fighting to pull myself together. “I don’t care about whatever promise you made.”

  “You don’t understand,” he said gently.

  “I do. Tawny told me that you’re a viktor, just like Leopold,” I told him, and his jaw tightened as something crossed his features, but I couldn’t be sure what. It could’ve been the tears crowding my vision. “You did your duty. You trained me, prepared me. Without you, I know I wouldn’t be here today. You’re like a—” My voice cracked. “You’re like a father to me.”

  “Poppy.” He pulled me back against his chest, holding me tightly as he once again dropped his chin to my head. “You have no idea what it does for my heart to hear that,” he murmured, his voice gruff. “You were the daughter I didn’t get to see grow. I couldn’t be prouder of who you’ve become and the choices you’ve made.” He cleared his throat. “Including saying yes to that smart-mouthed, arrogant husband of yours.”

  I was crying again but also laughing. “He’s not…”

  “You’re not really going to claim that boy isn’t smart-mouthed or arrogant, are you?”

  I opened my mouth, then closed it.

  “Didn’t think so,” he said, amusement clear in his tone. “Wouldn’t have been my first choice for you, considering we only ever saw eye to eye on one thing—keeping you safe. I don’t think he’s good enough for you.”

  My lips curled into a shaky smile.

  “Then again, I don’t think anyone would be good enough. But the boy loves you,” he continued while I tried to imagine Casteel’s reaction to being called boy. “You’re the most cherished part of his life, and that promise he made to you?” His fingers curled into the hair above my braid. “When he said he’d give up the throne if that’s what you wanted? He spoke the truth. So, I can’t really hate that choice for you.”