“This is remarkable,” he said, nodding to the island that seemed to respond to her every emotion.

  “I think it’s what the Prison—the island in the Fae’s home world—once was. When Theia ruled it, I mean. Before Silene fucked it all up. Maybe they’re linked in some way through being thin places and spilled over to each other a bit. Maybe back in that other world … maybe I woke up the land around the Prison, too.”

  Hunt’s brows rose. “Only one way to find out, I guess.”

  She huffed. “I don’t think they’ll ever let me set foot back in that world.”

  “Do you think there’s any chance we could recruit them to fight for us?”

  “No. I mean, I don’t know what they’d say, but … I wouldn’t ask that of them. Of anyone.”

  “I take back what I said earlier, about giving the planning a rest: we need to start thinking through our strategy.” He hated putting the burden on her, but they had to make a move. She was right—they couldn’t hide here. “The Asteri clearly want us to retaliate for what they did. Rigelus probably expects us to try to rally an army and attack them, but it’ll never work. We’ll always be outgunned and outnumbered.” He took her hand. “I … Bryce, I lost one army already.”

  “I know,” she said.

  But he pushed, “We’re also talking about taking on six Asteri. If it was us versus Rigelus, maybe … but all six? Do we separate them? Pick them off one by one?”

  “No. It’d give the others time to rally. We strike them all at once—together.”

  He considered. “It’s time to let Hel in, isn’t it?”

  The sweet breeze ruffled her hair as she nodded.

  “So where does that leave us?” he asked.

  The star on her chest glowed. “We’re going to Nena. To open the Northern Rift.”

  “Fuck. Okay. Ignoring the enormity of that, and assuming it all goes right, what happens next? Do we walk into the palace and start fighting?”

  Her gaze had again lifted to the islands and glimmering sea. That regal expression spread over her face, and he knew he was getting a glimpse of the leader she’d become. If they got through this.

  “What is the one thing Rigelus has constantly told us?” Bryce asked.

  “That we suck?”

  She chuckled. “He went out of his way to offer you freedom,” she said, nodding to where the brand was back on his wrist, “as a way to entice me to keep my mouth shut about killing Micah. And keep you quiet about killing Sandriel.”

  He angled his head. “You want to go public about it?”

  “I think Rigelus and the Asteri are nervous about the world finding out what we did. That their precious Archangels could be killed. By two apparent randos, no less.”

  It was Hunt’s turn to chuckle. “We’re not exactly randos.”

  “Yeah, but I’m still going to show Midgard that even Archangels can be killed.”

  “Okay, that’s … that’s awesome,” Hunt said, his blood pumping at the thought. Rigelus would lose his fucking mind. “But what will it accomplish?”

  “They’ll be so busy dealing with the media they won’t think about us for a little while,” Bryce said, smiling cruelly. Just a hint of the father who now lay dead beneath the earth here. “It will be more of a distraction than any army from Hel.”

  “I think it’s a good idea,” Hunt said, mulling it over. “I really do. But how are you going to prove it? Everyone would have to take your word for it, and the Asteri would deny it immediately.”

  “That’s why I need to talk to Jesiba.”

  “Oh?”

  She got to her feet and offered him a hand to rise. “Because she has the video footage of what I did to Micah.”

  * * *

  What lay before Ithan was truly a paradise on Midgard. Crystal clear water, lush vegetation, streams and waterfalls pouring into the sea, powdery sand, birds singing …

  He remained on alert, however, as the boat pulled up to a cove, close enough to the shore that he and Hypaxia jumped out and waded the few feet onto the beach.

  “Which way?” he asked the former queen, scanning the dense foliage bordering the beach, the rising hills. “Jesiba said the castle was a few miles inland, but I didn’t see anything while we were sailing in—”

  Wings flapped above, and Ithan shifted on instinct, his powerful wolf’s body nudging Hypaxia behind him as he snarled up at the sky.

  Two scents hit him a heartbeat later.

  And Ithan’s head emptied out entirely as Hunt Athalar landed in the sand, Bryce in his arms.

  66

  Back in his humanoid form, Ithan sat across from Bryce and Hunt in the grass, unable to get words out. Hypaxia, seated beside him, gave him space to think.

  Beyond Bryce sat Ruhn, Flynn, Dec, and Tharion—and Lidia and Baxian. Along with a female who was apparently Tharion’s wife and Flynn’s sister.

  Some crazy shit had happened. Ithan knew that. But they didn’t offer any explanations, instead waiting for him to get into why he’d come here. What had happened.

  His throat became unbearably tight.

  “I …” They were all staring at him. Waiting. “I need Sofie Renast’s body.”

  “Well,” Hunt said, whistling, “that wasn’t what I expected to hear.”

  Ithan lifted pleading eyes to the Umbra Mortis. “Jesiba said King Morven has the body—”

  “Had the body,” Ruhn amended, crossing his arms. His tattoos looked like they’d been put through a paper shredder. Ithan had noticed that immediately upon seeing his friends, upon hugging them all so tightly they’d complained about his grip. Ruhn went on, “The body is now technically Bryce’s.”

  Ithan shook his head, not understanding.

  Hunt drawled, “Morven is dead, and Bryce is Queen of Avallen.”

  Ithan just blinked at Bryce, who was watching him. Carefully. Like she knew something had—

  “The Meadows,” he blurted. Had they heard about it here? Had they—

  “We know,” Flynn said.

  “Fucking bastards,” Tharion murmured.

  Bryce only asked Ithan, “How bad?”

  Ithan couldn’t talk about the small bodies, so many of them—

  “As one might expect,” Hypaxia answered grimly, “and then some.” Heavy silence fell.

  “Whatever took you away from helping the city,” Lidia said, eyes on her sister, “must be important indeed. Why do you need Sofie’s body?”

  Again, they all looked at him. And he couldn’t contain his misery as he said, “Because I fucked up.”

  * * *

  It all came out. How he’d found an alternate heir to the Fendyr line, freed her from the Astronomer … and then killed her.

  None of it was news to Tharion, Flynn, or Dec. But judging from the way Bryce and Ruhn were glowering at the trio … Apparently, they had forgotten to mention this information in the chaos of the last few days.

  How they’d forgotten to mention the thing that had literally shredded apart Ithan’s life was beyond him, but he didn’t dwell on it. He plowed on to the part of his story that was news for all of them: How he and Hypaxia had attempted to raise Sigrid. And now the Fendyr heir was a Reaper.

  When he reached the end of his account, they were all staring at him wide-eyed. No one more so than Bryce, who hadn’t said anything when he’d spoken of an alternative to Sabine, someone Danika might have liked.

  Ithan finished, “So if Sofie’s body is intact—”

  “It’s not,” Bryce said quietly.

  Something crumpled in Ithan’s chest as he met her whiskey-colored eyes.

  “Morven’s castle collapsed,” Bryce said sadly. “Sofie’s body is underneath tons of rubble, even if it is intact.”

  Ithan put his face in his hands and breathed hard.

  Flynn put a consoling arm around his shoulders, squeezing. “Maybe there’s another way—”

  “We needed a thunderbird,” Ithan said through his hands. There was no fixing this. No undoing it. He’d brought this upon an innocent wolf, upon his people—

  “Look,” Bryce said, and the gentleness in her tone almost killed him. She blew out a long breath. “An alternate Fendyr heir would have been amazing. But …”

  Ithan lowered his hands from his face. “But what?”

  Hunt’s eyes flashed at Ithan’s snarl. But Bryce didn’t back down as she said, “We have bigger problems right now. And time isn’t our ally.”

  “I killed her,” Ithan said, voice cracking. “I fucking killed her—”

  But Athalar said to Hypaxia, “Rigelus collected some of my lightning—for a similar purpose, I think.” Bryce started, as if this was news to her. “Are you sure it wouldn’t help with Sigrid?”

  “It might be worth a try,” Hypaxia admitted, “but I don’t have any of the supplies I’d need to contain your sort of power.”

  Ruhn’s head lifted. “Like a bunch of crystals?”

  They all turned to the prince, but he was looking at Lidia. The Hind explained, “We found a cache of them in the archives.”

  Ruhn added, “Rigelus used one to grab Athalar’s power in the dungeons. Would it work for you, too?”

  Hypaxia nodded slowly and said to Hunt, “I wouldn’t require much.”

  Bryce glanced around at the others. Ruhn took her meaning and motioned to his friends. “Come on. Let’s grab those crystals from the archives. Hopefully it’s still standing.”

  Flynn, Dec, Lidia, Baxian, and Tharion—his wife in tow—headed down the hill with Ruhn. Only Tharion glanced back, just once, his eyes full of pity. Like the mer understood what it was to have fucked up so royally. To regret.

  But Bryce grabbed Ithan’s hand, bringing his attention back to her. “What’s done is done, Ithan.”

  “Jesiba said the same thing,” he said glumly.

  “And she’s right,” Bryce said. At her side, Athalar nodded. But Bryce motioned with a hand to Hypaxia. “The whole fucking world’s changing so rapidly—we’re all changing, faster than we can process. For Cthona’s sake, Hypaxia isn’t even queen anymore. Have either of you really reflected on that?” A punch of guilt went through Ithan. He’d been so focused on himself that he hadn’t thought to check in with the witch. But Hypaxia’s face remained grave, determined. And Bryce went on to Ithan, “So look: you killed Sigrid, and she’s a Reaper, and I think it’s … really admirable that you’re trying to raise her—”

  “Don’t patronize me,” he snarled, and again Athalar threw him that warning glare.

  “I’m not,” Bryce said. She was the Queen of Avallen, and Ithan could see it in her eyes: the leader glimmering there. “Part of why I love you is because you’ll stop at nothing to do the right thing.”

  “Trying to do the right thing led me to the debacle with Sigrid,” he said, shaking his head in disgust.

  “Maybe,” Bryce said, and glanced at Hypaxia. “But the two of you … I need your help. I have to believe that Urd sent you here for this.”

  “For what?” Hypaxia said, head angling.

  Bryce and Hunt swapped glances. The angel motioned to his mate, as if to say, Your story to tell.

  “I, uh,” Bryce said, pulling at some blades of grass, “have a lot to update you guys about.”

  * * *

  “You weren’t kidding about the big update,” Ithan said when Bryce had finished.

  “Where do we factor into this, though?” Hypaxia asked. “If you’re thinking to raise an army to aid Hel, I have no sway with the witches, and Ithan wouldn’t be able to muster the wolves—”

  “No armies from Midgard,” Bryce said. “We don’t have the time for that, anyway.”

  Hypaxia pulled on a tightly coiled curl. “What, then?”

  Bryce’s eyes seemed to glow. “I need you to make an antidote for the Asteri’s parasite.”

  Hypaxia blinked slowly. That bit of Bryce’s story had been the hardest to swallow. That they were all infected by something in the water, their magic cut off at the knees.

  Bryce pushed on, “You figured out an antidote for the synth, Hypaxia. I need you to do it again. Help us level up before we take on the Asteri. Get us free of their restraints.”

  “You place an awful lot of faith in my abilities. I’ll need to study the parasite before I can even start mapping out the properties of an antidote—”

  “We don’t have time for the full-blown scientific method,” Bryce said.

  “I’d hesitate to give you anything that hadn’t been fully tested,” Hypaxia countered.

  “We don’t have that luxury,” Athalar said firmly. “Anything you can rig up, even if it’s temporary, even if it just holds the parasite at bay for a bit …”

  “I don’t know if that’s possible,” Hypaxia said, but Ithan could see the ideas gleaming in her eyes. “And I’d need a lab. Considering the state of Avallen after your … claiming of it, I don’t think there’s anything here I could use.”

  “And no power, anyway,” Bryce said. “So you’ll have to head back to the Lunathion House of Flame and Shadow—it seems like you guys will be hidden and protected there. Especially if Jesiba’s around.”

  Ithan hadn’t told Bryce about who—what—Jesiba really was. That was Jesiba’s secret to tell.

  Her words settled. Ithan said, “What do you mean you guys? I don’t know shit about science. I can’t help Hypaxia with this.”

  “You know how to fight,” Athalar said. “And defend. Hypaxia will need someone to guard her while she works.”

  Ithan turned to Bryce, who was watching him with a grim expression. “But Sigrid—”

  “We need that antidote, Ithan,” Bryce said gently, but firmly. “More than anything. Hunt will give you the lightning for Sigrid, but we need that antidote first.” She added to Hypaxia, “As fast as you can make it.”

  Hypaxia and Bryce stared at each other for a long moment. “Very well,” Hypaxia said, inclining her head.

  Ithan closed his eyes. To abandon his quest, to leave Sigrid as a Reaper …

  But his friends needed him. They were asking for his help. To deny them, even if it was to save Sigrid … He’d already screwed up Sigrid’s life. He wouldn’t do the same to his friends.

  So Ithan opened his eyes and said, “When do we head back to Crescent City?”

  Bryce’s face remained grim as she said, “Right now.”

  “Now?” Hypaxia said, the first bit of shock she’d shown.

  “That boat’s still waiting for you,” Athalar said, pointing to the ocean in the distance. “We’ll go get the crystals from the others, and I’ll fire up the stones. Once I bring them back here, get on that boat and sail for Lunathion.”

  “And if—when—I come up with an antidote to the parasite?” Hypaxia asked Bryce and Hunt. “How do I contact you?”

  “Call us,” Bryce said. “If you can’t reach us, get the antidote to the Eternal City. There’s a fleet of mech-suits on Mount Hermon—hide near there, and we’ll find you.”

  “When, though?”

  Bryce’s face hardened. “You’ll know when it’s too late to help us.”

  Ithan started, “Bryce—”

  But Bryce nodded toward the glimmering sea. “As fast as you can,” she repeated to the former witch-queen. “I’m begging you.”

  With that, she walked to Athalar, and he leapt into the skies, flying them in the direction the others had headed.

  There was no chance to talk to Tharion or Flynn or Dec. No chance to even say goodbye. From the way Hypaxia was watching the angel and Bryce vanish toward the distant ruins, he suspected she was thinking the same thing about Lidia.

  Twenty minutes later, Bryce and Athalar were back, half a dozen quartz crystals sizzling in the angel’s hands. Bottled lightning.

  Hypaxia pocketed them, promising to use them well. Bryce kissed her cheek, then Ithan’s.

  Once, he would have done anything for that kiss. But now it left him hollow, reeling.

  Athalar only clapped Ithan on the shoulder before launching skyward with Bryce again, soon no more than a speck against the blue.

  When they were alone, Hypaxia motioned to the path they’d taken up from the beach. “We must rise to meet this challenge, Ithan,” she said, her voice sure. She patted the lightning-filled crystals now glowing through the pockets of her dark blue robes.

  With that, she started off for the boat and the task before them.

  Ithan lingered for a moment longer. He’d failed in this quest, too. He’d had a second shot at fixing Sigrid, and he’d failed. It was important to help their friends—and all of Midgard—but the decision weighed on him.

  He’d always thought of himself as a good guy, but maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he’d been deluding himself.

  He didn’t know where that left him.

  Ithan followed Hypaxia, turning his back on Avallen and the sliver of hope it had offered. To have the lightning in hand, but to have to postpone any effort to help Sigrid …

  He had no choice but to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

  Maybe at some point, he’d stop leaving a trail of absolute destruction in his wake.

  67

  Hunt found Baxian arranging fresh bundles of hay in the castle stables. They remained intact, located just far enough away from the castle to have been spared during its collapse. “You got the lightning to the wolf and the witch?” Baxian asked by way of greeting.

  “They’re on their way back to Lunathion with it. But the priority is to try to find a cure for the parasite.”

  “Good,” Baxian grunted. “I hope they have more success than I’ve had with finding us housing for tonight.”

  “That bad, huh?” Hunt said, leaning against the doorway.

  “No one wants to loan us a room or even a bed, so short of kicking people out of their homes …” The Helhound gestured grandly to the stables. “Welcome to Hotel Horseshit.”

  Hunt chuckled, surveying the woodwork. “Honestly, I’ve slept in way worse. These horses have a nicer home than the one I grew up in.”