The dancing wraiths stilled.

  And that perfect mouth curled in a tight-lipped smile as silver eyes with flecks of crimson locked onto mine. Shadows spun around him as he stopped just beyond the cage. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  I couldn’t take in enough air to speak as he reached out and curled his fingers around the bars.

  “I’ve been waiting so very long for you,” he said, his voice achingly cold, chilling the mist wrapped around me until it brought tears of discomfort to the corners of my eyes. “For this.”

  The mist around my hips squirmed its way up my waist and over my breasts.

  “You’re so…” Thick lashes lowered as he leaned forward. Golden hair fell against his cheeks as he pressed his forehead to the bars. “You’re so scared, my sweet,” he said, the words ending in a hiss.

  I shuddered, my fingers spasming around empty air.

  His eyes snapped open, and the flecks of crimson brightened as they swirled through his irises. “I can help you, so’lis.”

  I flinched, my stomach turning at the endearment, even though he spoke it softly, gently. So lovingly. I knew that word. I had been comforted by it at one time.

  “I know you. I’ve always known you, my pretty flower.” He smiled again, holding my stare. “All you have to do is let me in.”

  The mist constricted, forcing what little air I had left in me out.

  My heart thumped wildly as control of my body returned. I pulled at my arms, unable to move them even an inch. I thrashed, trying to shake the mist from me, but it wouldn’t budge. I couldn’t breathe as pain shot through me. My skin burned, feeling as if it had blistered and cracked. I couldn’t even scream. I became frantic, desperate to free myself. The seconds ticked by, stacking and building as the agony reached the very core of my being.

  He lifted his head from the bars and pushed away, beginning to pace the length of the cage.

  A fire started in my lungs and spread as the corners of my vision darkened and blurred. I couldn’t feel the eather in me. It had been snuffed out, extinguished. I couldn’t breathe. Panic sank its claws in, turning my blood to slush.

  “How much longer can you hold out?” he said, his voice a whisper against my trembling skin as he once more stopped in front of me. “Let me in.”

  My eyes fluttered as the pointless writhing and flailing slowed. Gods, I was…I was dying. I could feel it. Could sense my life slipping away from me.

  “You don’t remember, do you?” His perfect features twisted with agony. “I can help you remember.”

  A sharp pain suddenly pierced my head. Images filled it, flashes of the night the Craven had swarmed the inn. I could smell the smoke and the blood in the air, could feel her grip slipping away from my hand, could taste the terror as she was swallowed. Could hear my screams as teeth tore into my skin.

  “I can take away all that fear.”

  It vanished with his words as pain spiked, replaced by a deep sense of restlessness as I moved silently through the halls under Wayfair, the veil hiding my scars. I was alone as I drifted like I imagined lovesick spirits did, afraid to pass on. I was so…

  “I can make it so you’re never lonely again.”

  With each passing heartbeat, the pain became pressure in my skull. I was in a room with dark mahogany paneling, my palms flat against a desktop, the white gown pooled at my hips. I could feel the aching clench of my jaw as I stood perfectly still, even though I felt their stares, even as I felt the smooth, cold tip of a cane gliding over the skin of my back.

  “I can erase the shame.”

  The pressure expanded as I screamed, hands covered in blood as I begged—pleaded with—him to open his eyes. To not leave me.

  “I can make sure you never feel such loss again.”

  My head felt like it would explode as I found myself on my back, staring into golden eyes. Rage tore through me as he smirked down at me, those beautiful lips that had worshipped my skin—my scars—speaking blood-soaked lies. My heart cracked and then broke as the betrayal cut deep.

  “You will never feel such heartache again.”

  He vanished from above me as the first stone hit me, tearing open my skin where I stood under the sun—all my fears becoming realized. I would never be accepted. Would never be seen for who I was.

  “I will always see you.”

  More images came at me. The pain of a bolt tearing through my flesh. The agony of red-tinted hunger and being unable to stop the swing of a blade so cruelly taking another life from me. Sitting by her side, fearing she’d never open her eyes again, that I would lose yet another person close to me. The crimson-cushioned box delivered to me, and the terror and fury that followed. Scarlet streaking soft, white fur. All the lies. The harsh truths and fear that I would turn out just like her. Bitter. Destructive.

  It was all so much.

  Too much.

  And it didn’t stop. All the painful moments of my life kept coming in startling clarity. Gods, it was unbearable. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t relive those moments. And, gods, I knew there were more. More heartbreak. More loss. Even harsher truths. Worse times.

  I didn’t want to go through it again.

  I was weak.

  That was the harsh truth. Everything would be so much better. So much easier if I’d just give in.

  The pressure retreated as my surroundings pieced themselves back together. My cheeks were damp as I saw him reach through the bars.

  The mist around me trembled, and his head tilted. “I’ve always seen you.”

  He…he had.

  He tipped his head to the other side and dragged it across a bar. “Don’t you want that? To stop struggling? Free yourself of the pain? The panic? The fear? I can make it stop. Take it all away. Everything will be so much better. So much easier.”

  I…wanted that. An end. Silence. My lips curved up. Peace.

  “Let me in.” His chin lowered, and his flesh started to thin. “Let me in. Let me in, so’lis.” His voice rose, and the whispers returned, joining him as the ghostly dancers clutched at the bars and howled. “Let me in.”

  “You can trust me,” he said, his voice echoing around me. “Always.”

  I’m not asking you to trust me.

  My heart stuttered at the sound of his voice. One I knew mirrored his emotions, deepening with passion, turning raspy when worried or uncertain, smooth as the finest wine or silk when he teased. And when his voice softened, it was always a warning that blood would be spilled.

  I would always know his voice.

  And he would never ask me to trust him.

  A faint tingle drew my gaze to my left hand. Through the undulating mist, I saw the shimmery gold swirl of an…imprint.

  My gaze lifted to the being before me. He smiled. It was painfully beautiful and…a lie. Just as everything he promised was. Because I knew who he was.

  What he was.

  He had been the end of every beginning.

  True Death.

  But now, he was the great deceiver. The thief of life and joy. The Conspirator, a manipulator who preyed upon weakness and fear. The very first and very last murderer. A monster not by design but by choice.

  “Let me take away your pain,” Death whispered. “I know you’re ready, so’lis.”

  The mist around my throat loosened.

  Anticipation swelled in Death.

  I dragged in the thinnest breath. “Never.”

  Death stared, and I saw something flicker in those crimson-flecked eyes. Something akin to confusion. And something deeper. Starker and colder. The mockery of a smile faded before it returned like a poorly concealed stain. He gripped the bars, which shattered around his hands, exploding into shimmering dust. He walked into the cage, the tendrils of Primal mist loosening and retracting, unfurling from around my neck, slipping down my arms, and sliding across my hips. I fell forward onto my hands, dragging in deep breaths as the essence slithered across the floor, returning to…

  Their source.

  My head lifted, and through strands of hair, my eyes locked with crimson orbs as the Primal mist coiled around his legs.

  He knelt before me, his fingers brushing the hair back from my face in a gentle sweep that ended sharply. He fisted the strands, jerking my head back and forcing my spine to arch.

  The cold darkness took the remaining golden bars, erasing the cage. The bed collapsed, taking the chains with it.

  He leaned in, his breath cool against my ear. “I didn’t need your permission.”

  Cold realization slammed into me, and that revelation echoed back through time. Death never did. I should’ve known.

  “And you, so’lis,”—his other hand flattened against my breastbone, sending a wave of revulsion through me—“you still haven’t learned that.”

  Searing agony erupted from the center of my chest, igniting icy flames that engulfed my entire body. The pain was ungodly in its intensity, robbing me of the ability to even scream as the darkness rushed forward, reached for me.

  For us.

  CASTEEL

  Walking out of the bathing chamber, I saw Kieran sitting at Poppy’s hip, one of his hands hanging limply between his knees while the other rested on her arm.

  I dragged a smaller towel over my chest and headed to the wardrobe, watching him from the corner of my eye. His head was drooped forward, chin nearly touching his chest. Weariness clung to him like a second skin.

  “You need to sleep,” I said, roughly running the towel through my wet hair as I glanced at the window. “There’s a couple of hours until dawn.”

  “That’s my line.” He lifted his head and smothered a yawn. “I’m good.”

  I grabbed a pair of breeches from the wardrobe and dropped them on a nearby chest. “You sure about that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Glass houses, man.” Kieran twisted at the waist, looking back at Poppy. “Every time I look at her, I think this will be it. The moment she opens her eyes.”

  Rubbing the heel of my palm over my chest, right next to the bone-dagger scar, I glanced over my shoulder at him. Worry carved deep lines across his forehead and pooled like too-thick custard in my throat.

  I tugged the towel from my waist and tossed it and the smaller one into the bathing chamber. Since I began to sense emotions, I’d learned that Kieran was particularly good at shielding his. Not that I hadn’t already known that. His composed and calm demeanor was a mask at times. Not often. Not as much as it once was for me, but it was rare to hear uncertainty in his words and not only feel his distress but also see it etched into his features.

  He was going through the same turmoil I was. But I didn’t want my emotions to add to his already heavy load. It was difficult to push my concerns down when I was so worried, but Kieran had always been there for me. And right now, he needed me. So, I got myself together for Kieran’s sake.

  “She’ll wake up. I know she will,” I said, grabbing the breeches.

  “I know.” He turned his head to me. “It’s just that… Her skin, Cas. It’s so damn cold.”

  I didn’t let myself think about that as I stepped into the breeches. Yanking them up, I turned to him. “She’ll need to feed. A lot.”

  “Emil is on standby for you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m curious why it has to be him when others are available.”

  “Because it amuses me.”

  “Asshole,” I muttered.

  Kieran flashed a grin, but it faded quickly. His attention shifted back to Poppy. I walked to the other side of the bed and sat, brushing a wayward strand of hair off her cheek. I lifted my gaze to Kieran and could tell he was lost somewhere in his head.

  “What if…?” Clearing his throat, he closed his eyes. “What if she doesn’t remember?”

  Fuck. Hearing him ask the question on repeat in my mind was like taking a punch to the chest.

  “If she doesn’t, then we’ll help her remember.” Leaning across Poppy, I clasped the back of his neck. “It’ll be hard on both of us. Harder on you, I think.”

  He raised his head. “That’s not true. I know it would nearly kill you, Cas.”

  “And that’s why it would be harder on you.” I squeezed his nape. “Because you won’t only be thinking about Poppy. You’ll be worried about me and how I’ll handle it.”

  Kieran couldn’t deny that.

  “Here’s the thing, Kieran. It would feel like I was dying, but I won’t lose my shit. Not when I need to be there for her.” I dropped my hand to his shoulder. “And we’ll both be there for her. Together. We’ll help her remember.”

  He inhaled slowly and then nodded. “Yeah, we will.”

  I squeezed his shoulder. “So, have you found quarters that will be a good fit for us to move to?” I asked, seeking to distract him.

  “Still looking,” he said, his thumb smoothing over the delicate bone of her wrist. “Anything in particular I should look for?”

  “Anyplace that wasn’t Isbeth’s personal quarters.”

  He tilted his head back, his expression bland except for a faint quirk of his brow. “Yeah, I figured that already.”

  I leaned back against the headboard. “Just making sure.”

  “Uh-huh.” He drew a leg up. “You going to tell me what you discussed with Reaver?”

  “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

  “Cas,” he sighed.

  I rolled my eyes. “And how do you know I spoke with Reaver?”

  “I know everything.”

  Pressing my lips together, I blinked at him slowly.

  “Whatever,” he muttered. “Reaver asked me what you wanted before he came to you.” He looked over. “And just so you know, he did it in the most impolite way possible.”

  “Shocker,” I murmured, reaching over to drink the glass of whiskey I had placed on the nightstand before I bathed. Taking a small sip of the amber liquid, my lips peeled back at the bite. I then told him what I had discussed with Reaver and why.

  “Did you notice the dead grass and flowers?” I asked when I finished.

  “I didn’t.” He squinted. “You think it’s Kolis?”

  “It makes sense.” I took another drink and then offered the glass to him. “Sort of.”

  He reached over and took it. “It does. It’s what I thought, but I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to put it in your head.” Swallowing a sip, he lowered the glass to his chest. “And because I didn’t know how it was possible if he’s basically a wraith.”

  “But he’s apparently not just that,” I murmured, thinking everything over. “What I don’t get is how the blood of an Ascended could do anything for him.”

  “Me, neither,” he said, lifting the glass. “What made you think to have the Shadow Temple guarded?”

  I lifted a shoulder. “I figured that’s where a Primal of Death would go.”

  “Good call,” he remarked. “And good idea.”

  “All my ideas are good.”

  He snickered. “You keep telling yourself that.”

  I smiled.

  His gaze fell on Poppy. “The whole needing-a-vessel thing… You know what that means?”

  My smile vanished. “Isbeth wasn’t sacrificing shit.”

  “I’m sure you’ve already thought this”—Kieran’s gaze lifted to mine—“but what did she need Poppy for then?”

  “I have wondered that.” I reached for the glass. “And I have no idea.”

  Kieran finished off what was left before handing it over.

  “Asshole,” I muttered, placing the empty glass on the nightstand.

  One side of his lips quirked up. “By the way. I haven’t seen your brother in the last day or so.”

  Inhaling deeply, I settled against the headboard once more. “Did he leave the capital?”

  “Not that I’ve heard.”

  Stretching out my legs, I crossed my ankles. “Have you seen Millicent?”

  “No, but I get the feeling you only see her when she wants to be seen.”

  He was probably right. “If I had to guess, Malik is wherever she is.”

  A moment passed. “Your father is also demanding to speak with you.”

  Of course, he was.

  A moment passed. “What do you want done if he comes to Wayfair?”

  “He’s not to be allowed in. None of them are,” I said, tipping my head toward Kieran. “Get some sleep.”

  His mouth opened.

  “That’s an order from your King.”

  He huffed out a short laugh. “You’re already becoming a tyrant,” he muttered.

  I said nothing to that.

  Kieran remained quiet for a few moments. “I almost forgot. Naill has nearly an entire damn wardrobe put together for you and Poppy.”

  “While I appreciate hearing that, go the fuck to sleep.”

  “Whatever,” he muttered, settling in and closing his eyes.

  I knew he was asleep a mere minute later. Fucking wolven. I placed my hand over Poppy’s, controlling my emotions to stop my concern from stirring Kieran. While the wolven could fall asleep at the drop of a hat, it wasn’t always a deep sleep.

  My mind wandered to what he’d said about my father. I knew I couldn’t avoid him any longer. Whether Poppy was awake or not, I had to talk to him. But I wouldn’t let him see Poppy like this. She wouldn’t want that.

  My thoughts drifted to my discussion with Reaver as I scanned the chambers’ shadows. The reality was, Kolis could be in Wayfair right now, and it would be hard—if not impossible—to see him.

  I shifted my thoughts from that because it would only piss me off.

  Emil’s words about not all Ascended being monsters surfaced. What if that was the case? I wasn’t sure how it could be. I wasn’t aware of any Ascended who weren’t predatory, but that last home…

  They had no stockpile of blood.

  Even more surprising, none of the dead Ascended looked like they had been on the verge of bloodlust or about to turn Craven.

  Even if some Ascended weren’t monsters, it wouldn’t change how anyone felt about them.

  Including me.

  Right after the first rays of dawn crept in through the window, I heard pounding boots. My gaze shifted toward the sound, and I pulled away from Poppy and quietly rose. I could tell whoever it was had just reached our floor. Eather hummed in my chest as I approached the door and picked up one person’s footsteps. That pathway opened once more, telling me it was Delano.