“He is Death,” she forced out between quick pants, eyes darting to the raven. “He is everywhere and nowhere.”

  “Is that supposed to impress me?” I stretched my neck to the side as the essence crawled beneath my skin, the raven mimicking the action. “In case you’re wondering, it doesn’t.”

  “It should frighten you.”

  I laughed, and the sound was full of frosted smoke and chilled shadows. “It does not.”

  “It frightened her.”

  Everything in me went still.

  Her lips curved up in a thin smile. “I was there,” she said, her voice dropping to a hiss. “Saw her enter with the arrogance of the False Queen whose blood runs in her veins.”

  The ravens perched above turned their heads toward me as my blood cooled.

  “I heard the exact moment all that false bravado collapsed into nothing. When she learned the hard way what her position is with him.” The god laughed, the sound light. “I can still hear her screams.”

  Ice-coated smoke crawled up my throat.

  “Do you know she begged? Pleaded with him.” Her smile grew, revealing the tips of her fangs. “Ah, you didn’t know that.”

  A deep, animalistic sound tore from my chest in warning as I locked gazes with her. The raven on my shoulder took flight.

  “She was weak,” the god whispered. “And once she shows her face again, he will find her and finish what he started. He will take it all.” The glow of essence in her eyes grew brighter. “And there is nothing you can do to stop him. You’ll already be dead.”

  The ravens vanished.

  I snapped forward, grabbing a fistful of her hair. Twisting her around, I dragged her back against me before she could take another breath. Jerking her head to the side, I struck, sinking my fangs into her neck. It wasn’t a nice, clean bite. I made sure I tore through her flesh, letting the blood pour down my throat.

  She fought. They all did. First, with eather that burned my flesh. I ignored it as I drank. Then, with their body. Clawing, struggling, and striking out until they grew too weak. She went limp against me, and I tasted the stutter of her heart. Tasted death in her veins.

  Until she was nothing.

  Disengaging my fangs, I lifted my head as I let go. She slid to the floor, her flesh as pale as the veils she had been forced to wear. With a flick of my gaze, I destroyed her body, leaving nothing but bones behind.

  My head tilted, I eyed the skeleton for a few moments, then reached for an arm, snapping it off just below the shoulder, and then again at the elbow.

  Straightening, I strolled across the floor of the Hall, humming under my breath as I idly flipped the bone. I pulled the essence back, feeling the wings retreat and fold themselves away. The ravens returned, their wings beating against the air as I reached the dais and leapt, landing silently before the throne. My head cocked as I rose, eyeing the back of the seat. I held the bone as several vines unfurled and stretched out, wrapping around it. The vines retreated, sinking back into the throne, nestling the newest addition beside the femur of the last god who had entered Wayfair.

  Pivoting, I let my gaze fall on the closed doors. The castle remained silent.

  The humming in my thoughts started again, and I knew I couldn’t stay here. It was too quiet. And when it was this silent, I thought about what had happened in here. To Hisa. To Delano. To my father. And I needed…

  My hands fisted at my sides as I stretched my neck from side to side. I needed… I spun toward the throne again, my gaze landing on it. It was a dark, twisted mess of bone, vine, and sin.

  My gaze lowered to my palm. The imprint shimmered a faint gold in the dim light. I needed her. I needed him.

  I acted without much thought, opening the notam and allowing myself to connect to Kieran for the first time since Poppy had left. By the time he felt the whisper of my presence, I’d already located him.

  His shock rippled through the notam like a splash of icy water. Cas—

  Cutting him off, I shadowstepped onto the torchlit Rise, directly behind him and the Primal god I’d unfortunately descended from.

  The line of Kieran’s spine went rigid as his hand tightened around the hilt of his sword.

  Shadows pooled around me as my gaze flicked over the battlement. The white and gold armor of Atlantian soldiers stood out starkly against the black of the mortal Rise Guards who waited within the rounded parapet, arrows pulled taut against the strings of bows. Two generals of the Crown’s Guard stood near in another stone nest: the fair-headed Elemental, Aylard, and the changeling, Murin. Speaking among themselves, their stares were fixed on the mist below. My attention shifted back to Kieran as commands were shouted.

  He had frozen, the rigid line of his spine betraying the cold chill I knew pressed against his back. He turned slowly, vivid blue eyes landing on where the thickness of night was the heaviest. His jaw flexed.

  Attes stiffened, then whipped around.

  It took the Primal god a fraction of a second longer than Kieran to find me. “Nice of you to join us.”

  A shadow-laced laugh parted my lips, curling into the air like smoke settling on the Rise.

  Both generals had gone silent. Murin turned first, his sea-glass eyes wide. Aylard, the fuck, took a step back, bumping into the parapet wall, his skin pale in the moonlight.

  I let the cloak of night drop as I stepped forward, startling two Rise Guards coming down the battlement. One dropped the quiver he carried, sending bloodstone-tipped arrows rolling across the wall. The other let out a short yelp. I raised an eyebrow as the first guard recovered, hastily picking up the spilled projectiles.

  “Was that necessary?” Kieran demanded.

  Dragging my stare back to him, I didn’t miss the measure of relief loosening the tight lines bracketing his mouth as he saw that there was no need for the hood. I looked like myself.

  “Was what necessary?” I countered, ignoring the bland look he shot me as I crossed the battlement to join them at the wall.

  Looking down, I saw Craven, struck down by arrows, scattered at the foot of the Rise, their bodies draped over one another. My gaze lifted, looking farther out, past the trenches to where the mist was expanding, having already blotted out the view of the southern edges of the Blood Forest. Twisted shadows moved within the mist.

  “Cas.”

  I turned my head to Kieran and raised my brows.

  His gaze dipped to my mouth and then rose. “You have blood on your lips.”

  “Blood that smells of a god,” Attes commented, crossing his arms over his chest.

  I swiped my tongue across my lower lip. The sound of his sigh pulled at the corners of my mouth.

  Kieran turned back to the mist. “I’m assuming you had another visitor.”

  “I did.”

  “I suppose we now know why there is a horde of Craven amassing outside the Rise,” he commented.

  “I suppose,” I murmured, scanning the mist.

  “Did you happen to learn anything from the visitor?” Attes asked. “Or did you lose your patience again?”

  “I was patient.” The thought of the god’s taunts sent a pulse of icy eather through me. “Until I wasn’t.” I placed my hands on the ledge of the Rise, aware of Murin nearing the parapet. “I didn’t learn anything new.”

  “Your Majesty.” He bowed slightly. When I said nothing, he cleared his throat, turning his attention to Attes and Kieran. “Do we know what led the Craven here?”

  “Kolis,” Attes answered.

  The essence flared stronger as I heard Aylard swallow and listened to his heart rate pick up.

  “Is he here?” Aylard asked, his voice level despite the pounding of his heart.

  “No. He doesn’t need to be here to lead them here,” Attes reminded the general as Kieran shifted so his shoulder rested against mine. “Kolis controls all that is dead. Even the living dead.”

  A sound came, drawing our attention to the mist. It was a low howl of insatiable hunger that rose into a shrill wail. The sound came again and again as a horn blew, warning the city of an incoming attack.

  Not that the already-silent city needed to be warned.

  All along the Rise, archers shifted, waiting for their orders. The other generals on the Rise, aware of my presence, stayed quiet. I could feel Kieran’s stare on me.

  “They can be taken care of easily.” I looked at him. A muscle along his jaw throbbed. “You could’ve already taken care of this. Both of you could have.”

  Kieran said nothing.

  What I said was the truth. He had enough eather to level half the Craven out there on the field. So did Attes.

  “Go ahead,” I said, a smile playing across my lips. “Say what you want to say.”

  Kieran’s gaze slid to mine, the golden aura behind his pupils pulsing.

  “Just because I can, doesn’t mean I should.” I mimicked his flat affect.

  He lifted a brow. “You used to say that yourself.”

  “He did?” Attes questioned.

  “Yes.” Kieran turned his head and looked forward. “As hard as that may be to believe now.”

  I smirked.

  “Incoming!” A shout came from farther down the Rise, one belonging to Naill.

  My gaze briefly flickered down the wall, searching for the Elemental I hadn’t seen since…

  Since before.

  The mist churned and throbbed, rolling across the clearing as the shrieks and gnashing teeth grew into a disturbing symphony of fucked-up-ness.

  “Godsdamnit,” Kieran muttered before turning sharply. “Light the trench!”

  A volley of flaming arrows shot into the air, leaving a trail of embers in their wake. They arced downward, striking the wooden spikes sharpened into points and soaked in oil. Flames erupted, rapidly spreading along the trench just as the Craven burst from the mist, their milky-white skin and hairless skulls gleaming under the glare of the moon.

  “Fates,” Attes muttered, disgust clinging to the single word as the first of the Craven ran straight into the fire.

  It flung itself around, screaming.

  “You’ve never seen this?” Kieran asked him.

  The Primal god shook his head.

  “Driven by hunger, they lack all common sense…” I trailed off as I watched one stumble over another and fall into the sunken lane of flames. “And, apparently, agility.”

  I could feel Attes’s stare land on me.

  The scent of burning, rotting flesh filled the air as I eyed the still-thick mist that now stretched across the horizon.

  Kieran’s attention was where mine was. So were his thoughts. “There have to be hundreds.”

  “The fire won’t stop them,” I noted.

  A heartbeat later, my words were proven correct. The bodies of the fallen Craven were snuffing out the flames, allowing gaps to form in the line. A handful of Craven made it through, flames clinging to their tattered clothing. They wouldn’t be a problem. Not with their dried-out skin. But the gaps widened, and more Craven emerged, untouched by the fire.

  “Fire!” Kieran ordered.

  Atlantian soldiers, armed with crossbows, moved in front of the mortal guards. Grips steady on the handles, they aimed, bolts already nocked. They fired, releasing and restringing far quicker than one could with a regular bow. The volley of arrows reached the Craven, cutting them down as the bloodstone tore through flesh and bone.

  It didn’t matter how fast they were, though. As rotted as the Craven’s minds were, and even with their lack of agility, they were fucking fast. A wave reached the foot of the Rise within seconds.

  Idleness was stretching my skin taut.

  “You were right, Kieran.”

  His head snapped toward me, a crease forming between his brows. “Part of me doesn’t want to ruin the moment of you actually saying I’m right by asking what I was right about.”

  “You were right when you said I used to believe that just because you can doesn’t mean you should.” Lifting my hands from the Rise, I reached back and grabbed the hood. “But that was before.”

  “Fuck.” Kieran spun toward me. “Don’t do it.”

  “Do what?” I pulled the hood into place.

  “Whatever crazy shit you’re about to pull,” he seethed. “We can hold them off.”

  “Maybe.” I leapt onto the ledge and spun to face them, only the tip of my boots on the wall. One quick glance at Attes, and I saw he watched with a bemused twist to his lips.

  Kieran looked like he wanted to throttle me, and I knew why. He was worried. Not for me, but for what I was about to do. What I would unleash.

  And I was most definitely about to unleash something.

  “I’m under control,” I told him as a Craven’s shriek pierced the air.

  “You are?” Attes asked in a tone as dry as the Wastelands.

  I didn’t respond as I rose.

  Kieran stepped forward. “You’re going to scare the mortals and your people.”

  “Let them be afraid.”

  “Cas—”

  Catching Kieran’s stare, I felt the corner of my lips curve up.

  “Don’t,” he bit out. “I swear to the gods, don’t—”

  Extending my arms, I let myself fall backward.

  “You idiotic son of a bitch!” Kieran snapped forward, grasping the edge of the ledge. “Hold your fire! Hold your fire!”

  The night reached up, swallowing me as I fell into the darkness. Into the need.

  An already fired arrow hissed past my head as wind whipped around me. Sharp pain lanced through my thigh as a bolt found a target. I welcomed the stinging pain, drawing it into myself, letting it feed the essence and the simmering need. The hum moved to my blood as I twisted, landing in a crouch just behind the horde. I barely felt the impact as shadows rippled out from under my boots like a rising tide. Standing, I gripped the shaft of the arrow, tearing it free and tossing it aside as I felt Kieran brush against my consciousness. The fucker pushed. He was getting better, stronger, and this time, he cracked the shield. He got through.

  You could’ve just shadowstepped, you jackass.

  I could’ve, I sent back, and then I shut him out before he could respond, sealing up those cracks.

  Kieran didn’t need to be in my head when I allowed that need to surface.

  I turned slowly, as if I had all the time in the realm.

  The Craven had halted, jerking to a stop as they caught the scent of my blood and the eather in it. It was like ringing the bell for supper. One side of my lips curled up. I watched as one at the rear threw its head back and sniffed. I had no idea if it was male or female. Only strips of gray flesh clung to its scalp, and the clothing had long since frayed, now torn beyond recognition. It was the first to turn. Its face hadn’t fared any better than the rest of it. Half of it had been torn off, exposing bone. The Craven snarled, hunger gleaming in eyes that burned like hot coals. It launched itself at me.

  I could’ve used the eather and made it quick. That was the point. It would have been the sensible, orderly thing to do.

  But I didn’t feel like making a point.

  I didn’t feel like being orderly.

  I waited, head tilted, arms limp at my sides, the air choked with smoke from the burning wood piled in the trench. I felt Kieran pushing again, his concern slipping through the shield as the Craven reached me.

  I caught it by the throat, digging my fingers into what little skin remained. Its windpipe snapped under my grip as I lifted it, hurling its body into the one right behind it. Both hit the ground as I stalked forward, stopping to slam my boot through a skull.

  Another Craven reached me, its jaws already stretched wide. I drove my hand through the skin of its chin. Foul blood sprayed into the air as I grabbed it by the jaw and then jerked my arm back, tearing the head clean off.

  I could practically hear Kieran’s voice as I twisted and kicked, knocking a Craven into the fiery trench. None of this was necessary. It wasn’t.

  But I was enjoying myself.

  The silence in my mind.

  The slick blood on my fingers.

  The unraveling of normalcy.

  The chaos of death, squaring off against death.

  Eather rose as I spun to face a fresher Craven, one that had once been a young male. The plain, rough-hewn tunic and breeches stained with dry blood were those of a villager. Likely a farmer. His throat already had a gaping tear in it. I punched my hand through his chest, straight to the spinal column, as the hum in my blood hit my flesh.

  I let the essence go.

  Dark-gray shadows tinged with crimson spilled from me, forming writhing coils. They lashed out, wrapping around limbs and necks, dragging them toward the thicker, heavier mass of Primal mist churning around me. The Craven writhed and shrieked, the sound of their screams amusing me as I whirled toward the remaining horde. The humor faded, giving way to a flicker of shock. They were doing something I’d never seen a Craven do before.

  They ran.

  Not toward the source of their hunger, but away from it.

  Holy shit.

  I laughed, the sound empty of warmth but full of smoke and shadows, and the echo of it pressed down on the Craven. They ran faster, scattering in every direction. Some ran for the trench, others headed toward the Rise, and still more darted east and west.

  Tearing the Craven trapped in the mist apart, I shifted my focus to the fleeing creatures. The essence rose around me, spinning into funnels streaked with delicate tendrils of silver eather. They raced across the clearing, reaching the Craven.

  The essence shredded them, tearing through flesh and splintering bone until the ground was soaked with their foul blood. Until nothing, not even broken pieces, remained.

  The clearing was silent as I stood there, breathing in the scent of burnt wood and the copper tang of blood. My gaze lifted to the Rise, drifting over those who watched. They were as silent as the city behind them, and I…oh, I longed for more fragile things to break.

  To drown in the ruin that I tasted on my tongue, and the wrath that coated my lips.

  A GOLDEN CAGE

  Kieran

  The stack of parchment lay mostly untouched as I idly traced the gray veining in the broad desk’s white wood, my gaze tracking the large, silver wolven through the arched windows of the Council chambers.