Her head tilted. “You think I can’t do that?”

  “I think you can try,” he replied with a curl of his lips, causing just a hint of his right dimple to appear. “Keyword being try.”

  Eather flared in her eyes, momentarily turning them pure silver.

  “Okay.” I stepped in before it went further. “What did you want to talk about?”

  I would’ve had better luck talking to the wall. Neither looked away from the other. Casteel still had that smirk on his face, and the curl of her lips matched his. The air charged, and a sharp gust of wind whipped through the hall, tossing strands of hair across my face. I had no idea which of them was responsible for that.

  “You know,” I said, stepping between them, catching the strands of wind-tossed hair, and tucking them back. “It’s almost like you two are related.”

  “Thank you,” Casteel murmured.

  “That wasn’t a compliment.”

  “Sounded like it to me,” she replied.

  “For fuck’s sake.” I threw up my hands. “You know what? I’m going back to Wayfair. You two can stay here and try to out peacock each other.”

  Both heads turned to me.

  “Out peacock each other?” Seraphena asked, her brow furrowed.

  “You know how peacocks are,” I said.

  “I don’t think we do.” The wind settled as Casteel arched a brow. “Please, tell me how peacocks are.”

  “They’re always fluffing their feathers at one another,” I told them. “And puffing out their chests.”

  “I don’t know if that’s true,” Seraphena murmured.

  I stared at her. “Whether it’s true or not isn’t the point.”

  “Then that wouldn’t make sense,” Casteel stated.

  Seraphena nodded at him. “Exactly. What would be the point?”

  I gaped at them.

  “Right,” Casteel said.

  “Oh, my gods,” I screeched like a large bird of prey, throwing up my hands. “Now, you two are getting along?”

  Laughing, Casteel kissed me. He stepped back before I could push him away, so I settled on glaring at him.

  “You’re lucky,” Seraphena said, drawing Casteel’s gaze. “You clearly love my granddaughter.” When she stepped back, the air lightened. “And you amuse me. But I would suggest you be careful with your words when around Nyktos.” Her smile was scorching. “He won’t find you as amusing.”

  The look I sent Cas warned that he needed to think about what came out of his mouth next.

  He inclined his head. “Duly noted.”

  She eyed him for a moment longer, then stepped back. “Let’s go somewhere a little more private, just in case anyone wanders in.”

  I seriously doubted anyone would happen upon us, but we followed her past the hall with the liminite statues. I eyed them warily. They appeared as they had when we entered.

  Seraphena stopped in front of a door. Based on how she turned the handle, I had a feeling it hadn’t been unlocked. She pushed it open.

  The air within the chamber was stagnant. A large, cherry-colored oak table was situated on a section of raised floor in the middle of the space, surrounded by chairs and framed by two iron pillars. Items were scattered across the surface. Some of the seats were positioned near the edge of the platform as if the last person to make use of their red cushions had stood in a hurry. There were far more comfortable-looking chairs with thicker padding and gilded wood finishes to the right of the table. They, too, were draped in crimson velvet. This place must’ve been used for meetings only attended by mortals. The curtain-less windows along the back wall were evidence of that.

  “Thank the gods,” Seraphena muttered, drawing our attention.

  She bypassed the platform, her quick steps taking her to a tall, wide armoire against the wall. The intricately carved doors had been left open, revealing rows of glass bottles and decanters.

  Casteel snorted. “Thirsty?”

  “I need a drink for this conversation,” she replied.

  Well, that was reassuring.

  As Seraphena inspected the contents of the armoire, I drifted toward the platform. A piece of parchment had been rolled out and held in place on the table with a crystal weight on one corner and a steel dagger stabbed through the other. It was a map of Solis.

  I glanced at Seraphena. She trailed her fingers over the various bottles’ necks, pausing before moving on and finally settling on a squat, crown-shaped decanter. Pulling the cork, she gave the brown liquid a dainty sniff. “Sherry. Would either of you like some? Or…?” She peered at the other bottles, stretching to see the ones lined up on the higher shelves. “Or pretty much any other liquor you could desire?”

  “No, thank you,” I said. It felt kind of wrong for the Queen of the Gods to serve us.

  “I’m good.” Casteel turned, taking in the chamber.

  “Contrary to what you two may be thinking, I don’t drink that much.” Seraphena poured some sherry. “I know that’s likely hard to believe when you’ve seen me make a run for liquor twice in only the span of a few hours.”

  I grinned.

  “Did you know Primals have an extremely high tolerance?” Placing the bottle down, she glanced over her shoulder at us. I shook my head. “Well, except for me since I was born mortal.” She picked up her glass and turned. “And yes, that was unnecessary information.”

  My grin spread but faltered when I saw the paleness of her face.

  Seraphena drew her lower lip between her teeth and glanced between us. “Gods, this is going to go over like a ton of shadowstone covered in dakkai shit,” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. The imagery those words created caused my lip to curl.

  “Okay.” She dropped her hand. “When you were with Holland earlier, did he tell you anything about your…ancestry?”

  “Only that you and I are direct descendants of the first mortal created by Eythos.”

  “Come again?” Casteel snagged an arm around my waist and pulled me to him.

  “I forgot to tell you that,” I said. “It didn’t seem important.”

  He looked at me as if I had just said needing air to breathe wasn’t important.

  “You are of the Mierel bloodline, and we descend from the first mortal.” She folded an arm across her waist. “Did he tell you why you have become who you are?”

  “You mean why I’m this kind of Primal? Basically, because I’m the second daughter of that bloodline. And…” My cheeks warmed. “And because of the Joining.”

  “That is all he told you?” she asked. When I nodded again, her sigh was more of a groan. “Of course, he left out vital information.”

  My eyes narrowed as I recalled the back-and-forth between Lirian and Holland. “He did say it was a bit more complicated.”

  Seraphena barked out a short laugh. “Complicated? That’s one way to put it.” With a frown, she picked up the small crystal ball. “What do you know about Sotoria and the Cliffs of Sorrow?”

  I jolted, surprised by the question and…strangely uncomfortable. “Ian told me her story once—about her picking flowers and Kolis…” The memory of the field returned once more. I shook my head. “I thought it was just a legend, but Nektas told us it was true. Kolis fell in love with her, and when she ran from him and fell to her death, he went to his brother to have her brought back to life. But Eythos refused.”

  “Love,” she huffed, stepping onto the platform. “Do you think it’s possible to fall in love with someone you only saw once?”

  “No,” I said. The dream took shape in my mind again. I recognized the field now. It was the meadow at the foothills of the Cliffs. There had been a girl with deep-copper hair…picking flowers.

  “Sounds kind of absurd,” Casteel said, drawing me from my thoughts.

  “Agreed.” Her shoulders bunched. “But he was obsessed with her. So much so that he refused to let her go, even in death.”

  “Yeah,” Casteel said with a frown. “Nektas told us that’s why Kolis stole his brother’s embers, which allowed him to become the Primal of Life. But he said Kolis couldn’t take all of them from Eythos.”

  “And you ended up with some of the essence in your bloodline—in you,” I added.

  She took a drink. “Did he tell you that Kolis brought Sotoria back?”

  “No.” My thoughts raced. “He…brought her back after she crossed into the Vale?”

  Seraphena’s head lowered. “He did once he became the Primal of Life. And he did it more than once.”

  “My gods,” Casteel uttered. “What a sick fuck.”

  Eather flooded her eyes as she held the paperweight in a tight grip. “Eythos tried to help Sotoria as much as he could, attempted to keep her out of Kolis’s reach. As a Primal of Death then, he could capture her soul upon her death. With the help of the Primal of Rebirth, he made sure she was reborn.”

  “Wait.” I stepped to the side. “So, she died multiple times?”

  Seraphena nodded.

  “How?” Casteel asked, his tone flat as he gently squeezed my hip.

  “The first time—well, the first time after being brought back?” She exhaled heavily. “Kolis held her captive for quite some time. She had no hope for freedom and…”

  I pressed a hand to my chest. “She ended her life?”

  “In a way.” Seraphena placed the crystal down instead of throwing it, which is what she looked like she wanted to do. “Sotoria was reborn many times—the exact number is unknown. But since first learning about all of this, I discovered that every life ended either at Kolis’s hands or because of him. She could not escape him. Not in life or death.”

  Nausea churned as I took a step forward, needing…I didn’t know what I needed. Space? Something. The strange discomfort and unease grew as Casteel’s gaze sharpened on me. I moved around the sitting area, seeing the Cliffs in my mind. “Why are we talking about Sotoria?”

  “Because the three of us are connected.” She halted by the middle of the table. “We share the same blood.”

  I blinked once and then twice. “Holland really left out some important details.”

  “Your family ancestry truly is more interesting than I believed,” Casteel murmured.

  Seraphena snorted. “It was why Kolis was drawn to her. She carried more eather than any other second daughter or son. Just as you did.” Seraphena’s gaze tracked over the forgotten chairs to Casteel. “Perhaps that is what drew you to my granddaughter.”

  Casteel stiffened, but I responded. “Actually, no. It wasn’t that. And I still don’t see how this relates to anything.”

  Her gaze lowered as she took a rather impressive swallow of the sherry. “The three of us were seen in the dreams.”

  “Of the Ancients?” I questioned. She nodded. “So, she’s also part of the prophecy?” I asked.

  “Sotoria is the prophecy,” she corrected.

  “What?” I gripped the back of a chair. “How can that be when it was said to be me?”

  She hummed under her breath and ran a finger over the hilt of her dagger. “The extremely short version of how that can be is that Sotoria was always prophesied to be a great power. Eythos somehow learned that, and when one of my ancestors—our ancestors—summoned him, he saw an opportunity and seized it. He placed the embers of life with Sotoria’s soul, to be reborn united. But he could only do it because Sotoria and I share the same bloodline. He thought doing so would somehow change the outcome because he believed Sotoria would be reborn with the embers of life and would be able to defeat Kolis.”

  “This is so confusing.” I let go of the chair. “And I feel like there is way more.”

  “There is so much more. But you’d have to be there to understand it fully,” she said with a brief smile. “Still, those details are quite necessary to where we stand today.”

  “So, you were reborn as Sotoria,” Casteel said, that damn shirt stretching tight across his back and shoulders as he crossed his arms.

  “No. I was just a vessel for her soul.” The chair moved without her touch, and she sat. “It didn’t work as Eythos planned. Either because I wasn’t a second daughter or because Fate intervened. And yes, I do mean one of those fuckers. I’m betting it was one of them.”

  A short laugh escaped me, drawing her gaze. “They are…definitely fuckers.”

  “I third that statement,” Casteel remarked. “What happened to her soul then?”

  “When I was about to Ascend, I had her soul removed since it wouldn’t have survived the transition. She would’ve been…”

  A shiver curled across the nape of my neck, my mind flashing to Tawny. “She would’ve been…trapped. A lost soul.”

  Seraphena nodded. “I had her soul placed somewhere safe.” Her hold on her glass tightened. “I absolutely refused to allow her to be used as a tool. She spent far too many lives with no control.” Her gaze met mine, and my stomach curdled. “We planned to release her once Kolis was entombed. I wanted…” She swallowed and leaned back in the stiff chair. “I wanted to give her a choice. To either cross back into the Vale or be reborn without the threat of Kolis.”

  “I assume that didn’t happen,” Casteel commented.

  “No.” She set the glass on the table. “No one thought it was imperative to inform us before we entombed Kolis that he was connected to her since he had fed on her so many times throughout her lives. The moment she was reborn, he would have sensed her.”

  I’ve always sensed you.

  My hands fisted against my sides.

  “We couldn’t free her and risk waking Kolis,” Seraphena continued, and Casteel turned halfway toward me. “And her soul, well, it was no longer where we placed it, thanks to one of those fucks otherwise known as the Fates.”

  My heart rate was slow, but I could hear the blood pumping in my ears.

  “It took me many years to find a lead for who could have ended up with it.” Anger flashed in her eyes, and her hand balled into a fist on the table. “A certain annoying-as-fuck Revenant, who seemed to be everywhere. Ca—”

  “Callum?” Casteel snarled. “Please, tell me it’s not that golden fuck.”

  Seraphena’s lip curled. “I wish I could.”

  My lips parted. “Gods, he is old.”

  “Very old,” she confirmed. “He was Kolis’s first Revenant. And his most loyal.”

  “Great,” muttered Casteel.

  “Wait.” I frowned. “How did Reaver not recognize Callum?”

  “Reaver was a small youngling when Callum was…active and about.” She ran her fingers along the rim of her glass. “They never crossed paths.” Her gaze lifted to Casteel. “But it seems you all have.”

  “Unfortunately. He was very tight with Isbeth,” he spat. “Though we don’t know for how long. He either wasn’t around a century or so ago, or Isbeth kept him hidden until recently.”

  “Of course,” Seraphena murmured.

  “There’s something I don’t understand,” Casteel continued, the skin between his brow creasing. “How did he get her soul? How is any of that possible?”

  “Souls are…as fragile as they are resilient,” she said. I frowned at the contradictory statement. “But for them to be held in what is akin to stasis, they must be stored.”

  “Stored?” I repeated. “For how long?”

  “A millennium. If not longer.” Seraphena winced. “I know how it sounds, but the soul…it is like they’re asleep.” Something about how she said that didn’t inspire confidence. “But it would need to be kept in something nearly unbreakable—a vessel forged when the breath of a dragon met the flesh of an Ancient, creating a very special and very unique diamond.”

  It felt like I lost sensation in my hands as I immediately saw the jagged, uneven diamond and heard Isbeth’s voice. “The Star?”

  Seraphena’s gaze cut to mine. “The Star diamond. Yes.”

  I looked at Casteel. “Isbeth had The Star—” I swung back to Seraphena. “Unless there’s more than one.”

  “It is unlikely there would be,” Seraphena said. “Plus, she…had to have it. And she likely would’ve gotten it from Callum.”

  “I’m not going to even ask how a soul is kept in a diamond,” Casteel muttered.

  “Probably best.” She forced her hand open, allowing blood to rush to her bleached knuckles as she lifted her gaze to meet mine. “But that’s the only way it was possible.”

  Why was she looking at me when she said that? Turning away, I wrapped my arms around my waist.

  I thought about what Holland had said about Isbeth. “Isbeth knew a lot of stuff she shouldn’t have. We assumed it was because of Malec,” I said with a slight cringe. “Why would Callum have her soul?”

  “Because he is Sotoria’s brother,” she said.

  My mouth dropped open.

  “Okay. So, they were siblings.” Casteel dragged his fingers across his chin. “But he was loyal to Kolis and working with Isbeth to free the sick fuck?”

  “Yep.” Seraphena picked up her glass and took another long drink. “When Sotoria died, Callum should have been with her, but he was busy sowing his wild oats with a dairy maid or something. He was beside himself with guilt. Felt responsible. So did Kolis. Kolis went to Sotoria’s family after her initial death, and of course, they knew what he was. They were terrified. But Callum wasn’t. He wanted to see his sister. He wanted to apologize. And when Kolis told him he couldn’t allow that, Callum…slit his own throat.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” muttered Casteel, shaking his head. “So, that’s when Kolis brought him back?”

  She nodded. “And don’t ask me why he would be loyal to the monster who terrorized his sister. The fuck’s head isn’t on right—not even after having it decapitated more than once.”

  Obviously, she and Callum had some bad blood between them.

  A muscle ticked in Casteel’s jaw. “Even more of a reason to hate the fuck.”

  “But Callum isn’t like the other Revenants. He is full of wants and needs.” Her fingers tapped off the wood. “He has a soul.”

  “Do you know how?” Casteel asked, and I immediately thought about Millicent. “What makes him different?”

  “There’s a little bit of magic to creation, an unknown part. But whenever life is created, and I mean true life that comes with free will, a sense of self, a lis—a soul—it is birthed from what the creator feels at the time of creation,” she explained. “When I created the wolven, I felt joy at creating new life, knowing I would never do so again after my sons. I felt love, for the kiyou wolves always held a special place in my heart. And excitement for a new beginning. Plus…” Sounding wistful, she slowly shook her head. “I felt relief in knowing the descendants of Iliseeum would have guides and companions in a realm unfamiliar to them. I also felt pride. All those feelings shaped the wolven.”