“Holy gods,” Tharion said, and pointed out to the sea.

  It was no longer gray and thrashing, but a vibrant, clear turquoise. And rising from the water, just as they had seen on the map Declan had found, were islands, large and small. Lush and green with life.

  Forests erupted on the island they stood on, soon joined by mountains and rivers.

  So much life, so much magic, freed at last of Vanir control. A place not only for the Fae, but for everyone. All of them.

  Bryce could feel it—the joy of the land at being seen, at being freed. She looked at Ruhn, and her brother’s face was bright with awe. As if their father didn’t lie beneath the earth, lost forever to the dark, his bones to be eaten by worms.

  It was only awe, and freedom, lighting Ruhn’s face.

  No more pain. No more fear.

  Bryce didn’t know when she started crying, only that the next moment Ruhn was there, his arms around her, and they were both sobbing.

  Their friends gave them space, understanding that it wasn’t pure joy that coursed through them—that their joy was tempered by grief for the years of pain, and hope for the years ahead.

  The world might very well end soon, Bryce knew, and they might all die with it, but right now the paradise blooming around them, this awakened land, was proof of what life had been like before the Asteri, before the Fae and the Vanir.

  Proof of what might be afterward.

  Ruhn pulled back, cupping her face in his hands. Tears ran down his face. She couldn’t stop crying—crying and laughing—with all that flowed from her heart.

  Her brother only pressed a kiss to her brow and said, “Long live the queen.”

  64

  The land had awoken, and the Fae of Avallen were terrified.

  Hunt tried not to be smug at the sight of the destroyed castle. The occupants and the town had been spared, but vines and trees had burst through Morven’s castle and turned it into rubble.

  “A last fuck you from the land,” Bryce murmured to Hunt as the two of them arrived at a hill overlooking the ruins. At their far end, a group of Fae stood in apprehensive silence around the demolished building.

  Beside him, Bryce thrummed with power—from Helena and her cursed bloodline, but also from whatever lingering soul-wound had healed the moment Ruhn had cut off their father’s head.

  Hunt slid an arm around his mate’s waist, taking in the Fae who were gawking at the ruins, the island of Avallen—and the new islands surrounding it.

  Bryce peered up at him. “Are you … okay?”

  He was silent for a long moment, looking out at the landscape. “No.”

  She pressed closer into his side.

  His throat worked for a moment. “I’m some weird demonic test-tube baby.”

  “Maybe that’s where you came from, Hunt,” she said, offering him a gentle smile, “but it’s not who you are—who you became.”

  He glanced at her. “Earlier, you seemed to not like the person I became.”

  She sighed. “Hunt, I get it—all the shit you’re feeling. I really do. But I can’t do this without you. All of you.”

  His heart ached as he looked at her fully. “I know. I’m trying. It’s just …” He struggled for the words. “My worst nightmare would be to see you in the Asteri’s hands. To see you dead.”

  “And avoiding that fate is worth letting them rule forever?” There was no sharpness to her question—just curiosity.

  “Part of me says yes. A very, very loud part of me,” he admitted. “But another part of me says that we need to do whatever it takes to end this. So future generations, future mates … they don’t have to make the same choices, suffer the same fates, as we have.”

  He would try to put his fear behind him. For her, for Midgard.

  “I know,” she said gently. “If you need to talk, if you need someone to listen … I’m here.”

  He scanned her face, pure love aching in his heart. Some of that lingering darkness and pain remained, yes, but he’d fight through it. And he knew she’d give him the space he needed to do so. “Thanks, Quinlan.”

  She rose up on her toes to kiss his cheek. A sweet, soft brush of her lips that warmed the final numbed shards of his soul.

  Then she surveyed the ruins once more, taking his hand as they began walking down toward their friends gathered at the foot of the hill. “I got the last piece of Theia’s power, but what now? How do we take on the Asteri? How do we get close enough to them to use the knife and sword and toss them through that portal?”

  He kissed her temple. “Give it a rest for today. For now, enjoy being leveled up.”

  She snorted. “That doesn’t sound like a strategy from the Umbra Mortis.”

  “I can’t tell if that’s an insult or not.” He nudged her with a wing. “We’ve got some other urgent stuff to sort out first, Bryce.”

  “Yeah, I know,” she said as they came to a stop among their friends. She addressed all of them. “Since this place can hold out against the Asteri, we need to get as many people here as possible. Without tipping off imperial forces.”

  “The Depth Charger could help,” Flynn suggested. Tharion grimaced but didn’t object.

  Lidia asked, “But how would they pierce the mists?”

  Bryce lifted a hand, and in the distance, the mists parted—then sealed. “Didn’t you hear? I’m a fancy world-walker who can do this shit innately. Plus …” She gave a crooked grin. “I’m now Queen of Avallen. Wielding the mists is a perk of the job.”

  “Of course,” Hunt said, rolling his eyes and earning a jab to the ribs.

  But Ruhn warned, “The Fae won’t be happy to share.”

  Bryce motioned to the ruins, the damage she’d unleashed, however unknowingly. “They don’t have any choice.”

  Ruhn snorted. “Long live the queen, indeed.”

  Declan gave a shout from up on the hill, and they all turned toward him.

  “Whatever you did with those mists, Bryce,” Declan shouted, “I got service!” He lifted his phone in triumph, and then lowered his head to read whatever messages he had.

  “Small victories,” Bryce said. Lidia and Tharion laughed.

  The Hind’s amusement faded, though, as she turned to Tharion, as if drawn by the mer’s own chuckle. “You could hide here, you know. The Ocean Queen can’t pass through these mists unless Bryce allows it.”

  “Hide,” Tharion said, as if the word tasted foul.

  “The alternative is begging her not to kill you,” Lidia said, “and then doing everything she says for the rest of your life.”

  “No different from the River Queen,” Tharion said. Sathia was watching him carefully—curiously. The mer shrugged, and asked Lidia baldly, “How do you live with it? Being at her mercy?”

  Lidia’s mouth tightened, and they all pretended they weren’t listening to her every word as she said at last, “I had no other choice.” She looked to Ruhn, eyes bright. “But I’m not going to anymore.”

  Ruhn started, whirling to her. “What?”

  Lidia said to him, to all of them, “If we survive the Asteri, I’m not going back.”

  Hunt had seen enough of the Ocean Queen to know how well that would go down.

  Bryce said cautiously, “But your sons …”

  “If we survive, my enemies will be dead,” Lidia said, chin lifting with queenly grace. “And surely she will have no need of my services anymore.” She nodded to Tharion. “I’m not going back, and neither should you. The age of unchecked rulers is over.” She motioned to the ruins. “This is the first step.”

  A chill went down Hunt’s spine at the surety of her words. Bryce opened her mouth like she might say something.

  But Baxian pivoted toward Declan, as if he’d sensed something off. A second later, Declan’s head snapped up.

  A foreboding quiet settled over Hunt. Over all of them.

  No one spoke as Declan approached. As the male’s throat bobbed. And when he looked at Ruhn, at Bryce, tears shone in his eyes.

  “The Asteri made their move.”

  Bryce grabbed Hunt’s arm, as if it would keep her from falling.

  “Tell me,” Lidia said, pushing through them to get to Declan.

  Declan glanced at the Hind, then back to Bryce. “The Asteri organized a hit, led by Pollux and Mordoc, on every Ophion base. They wiped them off the map.”

  “Fuck,” Hunt breathed.

  But Declan was shaking his head. “They wiped out everyone in their camps, too.”

  Hunt’s knees shook.

  And when Declan looked to Bryce, Hunt knew immediately that it would be bad. Wished he could undo it, whatever it was—

  “And they dispatched their Asterian Guard to Asphodel Meadows. They … they said it was a hotbed of rebel activity.”

  Bryce began shaking her head, backing away.

  Declan’s voice broke as he said, “They unleashed ten brimstone missiles on the Meadows. On everyone living there.”

  PART III

  THE ASCENT

  65

  Ithan stood on the deck of a fishing boat that had seen better decades, Hypaxia at his side. Apparently, Jesiba Roga didn’t think the two of them needed to travel in style.

  But at least the shark-shifter crew hadn’t asked questions. And had kept their own counsel as they cut the engine and the boat bobbed in the gray swells of the Haldren, right in front of the impenetrable, sky-high wall of mist.

  Ithan nodded to the broken brooch on Hypaxia’s cloak. “Any chance your broom still works? We could fly over them.”

  “No,” Hypaxia said. “And besides, only Morven can let us through.”

  Ithan reached a hand toward the mists, twining it through his fingers. “So how do we contact him? Knock on the barrier? Send up a flare?”

  His tone was more cheerful than he felt. Somewhere beyond these mists lay Sofie’s body. Apparently, Morven had told Jesiba they could have it—his late son had shipped it to his home, and the Fae King hadn’t yet bothered to have it tossed into the garbage. A stroke of luck sent from Urd herself. Jesiba had promised that Morven wouldn’t touch it—that he’d be glad to dump the body into their hands.

  That is, if they could get through the barrier. Hypaxia lifted a light brown hand to the mists, as if testing them. “They feel …”

  As if in answer, the curtain of the mists shuddered and parted.

  Sunlight flooded through. Gray seas turned turquoise. The wind warmed to a balmy, gentle breeze. A paradise lay beyond.

  Even the gruff shark shifters gasped in shock. But Ithan glanced at Hypaxia, who was wide-eyed as well. “What’s wrong?”

  Hypaxia slowly shook her head. “This is not the Avallen I have visited before.”

  “What do you mean?” Every instinct went on alert, his wolf at the ready.

  Hypaxia motioned to the captain to start sailing through the parted mists, toward the lush, beckoning land. Prettier than even the Coronal Islands. The former witch-queen breathed, “Something tremendous has occurred here.”

  Ithan sighed. “Please tell me it was a good tremendous change?”

  Her silence wasn’t reassuring.

  * * *

  Hunt found Bryce sitting atop the ruins of what had once been a tower, tangles of blooming vines and roses all around her. A beautiful, surreal place for a Fae Queen to rest.

  The land seemed to know her, small blooming flowers nestling around her body, some of them even curling in the long strands of her hair.

  Yet her face when Hunt sat beside her was hollow. Devastated.

  Dried tears had left salty tracks down her cheeks. And her whiskey-colored eyes, usually so full of life and fire, were vacant. Vacant in a way he hadn’t seen since that time he’d found her at Lethe, drinking away her grief at Danika’s death, the wound reopened when she realized her father had withheld vital information that would have helped with the investigation.

  Hunt sat at her side on an uneven bit of tumbled stone and slid a wing around her. From up here, he could see the scattering of islands amid the vibrant teal of the ocean. Avallen had awoken into a paradise, and part of him ached to leap into the skies and explore every inch of it, but …

  “All that new power from Theia,” Bryce said hoarsely, “and it didn’t amount to shit. I didn’t find it in time to help anyone—save anyone.”

  Hunt kissed her temple and promised, “We’ll make it count, Bryce.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “For being a dick to you about what you’re going through.”

  “Bryce …,” he began, scrambling for the words.

  “I apologize for everything I said to you about getting over it,” she went on. “But …” Her lips pressed into a thin line, as if keeping in a sob that wanted to work itself free.

  “What just happened,” he said roughly, “isn’t your fault. It’s no one’s fault but the Asteri’s. You’ve always been right about that.”

  She said dully, as if she hadn’t heard a word he’d said, “Fury and June are getting into a helicopter with my parents, Emile—Cooper, I mean—and Syrinx,” A glance down at where she’d discarded her phone in the blossoms beside her. “The Asteri didn’t find them before the attack, but I want them all here, kept safe.”

  “Good,” Hunt said. They’d all spent the past hour making frantic phone calls to family and friends. Hunt had debated for a long while about whether to risk calling Isaiah and Naomi, but had opted not to in the end, lest it raise any trouble if their phones were tapped. Which was part of why he’d sought Bryce out now, even though he knew she’d come up here to be alone.

  The others were finding lodgings for the night, now that Morven’s castle lay in ruins. From Ruhn’s grim face, it seemed the Fae weren’t being welcoming. Tough fucking luck, Hunt wanted to say. They were about to get a whole influx of people.

  “We could stay here,” Bryce murmured, and Hunt knew that the words were ones she’d only speak in front of him. “We could get all our friends and family, anyone who can make it across the Haldren—and just … stay here, protected. Forever. It’s basically what the Ocean Queen asked for. And would make me little better than my ancestors—to hide like that. But at least people would be safe. Some people on Midgard, at least.” While the majority remained at the mercy of the Asteri.

  Hunt leaned forward to peer at her face. “Is that what you want to do?”

  “No,” Bryce said, and her eyes lifted to the island-dotted horizon. To the wall of mist beyond it. “I mean, anyone who can make it here, any refugees, they’ll be allowed in. I willed the mists to make it so.”

  He would normally have ribbed her about how very Super Powerful and Special Magic Starborn Fae Queen that was, but he kept his mouth shut. Let her keep talking.

  “But us …” The bleak look on her face had him folding his wing more tightly around her. “We can’t hide here forever.”

  “No,” he agreed. “We can’t.” He let her see how much he meant it. That he’d fight until the very end.

  She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I can’t even think about what they did. To Ophion and the camps … to the Meadows …” Her voice broke.

  He couldn’t process it, either. The innocents killed. The children.

  “We have an obligation,” Bryce said, and lifted her head. “To those people. To Midgard. And to other worlds, too. We have an obligation to end this.”

  It was Bryce’s beloved face looking at him, but it was also the face of a queen. His lightning stirred in answer. And it didn’t matter to him if those fucks Apollion and Thanatos had made him, made his power. If his lightning could help her, save her, save Midgard from the Asteri … that was all that mattered.

  Bryce said, “I have an obligation to end this.”

  Her gaze swept over the peaceful archipelago, and for a moment, Hunt could see it: a life here, with their kids and their friends. A life they could build for themselves in this untouched place.

  It shimmered there, so close he could nearly touch it.

  Bryce said, as if thinking the same thing, “I think Urd needed me to come here.”

  “To know it could be a refuge?”

  She shook her head. “I wondered why the mists kept out the Asteri, how we could use those mists against them. I thought we’d come here and find answers, maybe some secret weapon—like some major Asteri-repelling device.”

  She slid her exhausted gaze to him at last.

  “But it’s the sheer quantity of black salt that keeps the Asteri out, not the mists, and we can’t replicate that. I think Urd wanted me to see that a society could thrive here. That I could be safe here, along with everyone I love.”

  Her mouth trembled, but she pressed it into a thin line.

  “I think Urd wanted me to see and learn all that,” she went on, “and have to decide whether to stay, or leave this safety behind and fight. Urd wanted to tempt me.”

  “Maybe it was a gift,” Hunt offered. “Not a test or challenge, Bryce, but a gift.” At her raised eyebrows, he explained, “For Urd to let the people you love be safe here—while you go kick some Asteri ass.”

  Her smile was unspeakably sad. “To know they’ll be protected here … even if we fail.”

  He didn’t try to reassure her that they’d succeed. Instead, he promised gently, “We’ll do it together. You and me—we’ll end it together.” He brushed a strand of her hair behind a delicately pointed ear. “I’m with you. All of me. You and I, we’ll finish this.”

  Her chin lifted, and he could have sworn a crown of stars glimmered around her head. “I want to wipe them off the face of the planet,” she said, and though her voice was soft, nothing but pure, predatory rage filled it.

  “I’ll get the mop and bucket,” he said, and flashed her a smile.

  She looked at him, all regal fury and poise—and laughed. The first moment of normalcy between them, joyous and beautiful. Another thing for him to fight for. Until the very end.

  Tendrils of night-blooming purple flowers unfurled around her in answer, despite the daylight. Had it always been leading toward this? In the night garden, before they were attacked by the kristallos all those months ago, he could have sworn the flowers had opened for her. Were they sensing this power, the dusk-born heritage in her veins?