Chapter 44
Home.
Was this what the voice had meant last night? Was this truly home?
I wanted it to be more than I ever realized.
We passed through the Pillars, my heart thundering as I soaked in the sights before me with disbelieving eyes.
The first thing I noticed were the people along the walls, just inside the Pillars. How could I not see them? There were at least a hundred, dressed in black, sleeveless tunics and pants. Swords with gold handles were fitted to their sides. Crossbows like the one damaged in the fight with the Dead Bones Clan were strapped to their backs. The moment they saw Casteel, recognized him, they bowed, one after another in a wave, but it was those who stood on the ledges above that drew my attention.
Women.
There were more Guardians. They dropped to one knee in succession, placing their fists over their heart.
I knew my eyes were wide. I knew I was staring, but all of them were staring, too—the men below and the women above—at us. I suddenly wished that I still wore my cloak, even with how warm the air was here. Or that my hair was free. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so exposed, my scars clearly displayed to these strangers’ eyes.
Strangers I…I wanted to be accepted by.
I looked forward, and then I wasn’t thinking of the scars or being accepted.
Leafy green trees lined the wide road, one smoother than any I knew of in Solis. It was made of some kind of dark stone that seemed fused together. The trees spread out into dense thickets of a lush forest, and ahead… A city sprawled ahead, dipping and flowing with the valleys and hills—a city twice the size of Carsodonia. White and sand-colored structures gleamed under the sun, arcing gracefully with the
landscape, some square and others circular. Some rose high, stretching into sleek towers, while others were buildings as wide as they were tall, and some remained closer to the ground. They reminded me of the Temples in Solis, but they weren’t fashioned to mirror the night but to reflect the sun—to worship it. The roof of every building that I could see was green. Trees rose from them, vines swept down their sides, and bursts of color came from all sides.
Unlike the capital of Solis, where the city was stone and dirt, flashes of green surrounded buildings. Just as it had been in Spessa’s End, no building appeared stacked on top of one another, crowded to the point where they could barely fit. At least not from what I could gather from this distance.
Beyond the city, where specks of white grazed in open pastures, past the heavily wooded area that followed, was a mountain that did disappear into the clouds. And in the face of that mountain were eleven statues that had to be as tall as the Atheneum in Masadonia.
Each one held a lit torch from their outstretched arm, the flames burning as brightly as the setting sun.
These were the gods—all of them—watching over the city or standing guard.
I couldn’t even begin to figure out how those statues were built to that size, raised onto the mountain. Or even how those torches were lit—how they remained lit.
“Saion’s Cove is beautiful, isn’t it?” Casteel didn’t need to ask. It was the most beautiful city I’d ever seen, and I could imagine what the capital looked like. “You can’t see the sea from here, but it’s beyond the trees, to our right.”
Thoughts of warm sand and salty air tugged at my heart as I followed his gaze. I saw the tops of columns through the trees.
“What is in there?”
“The Chambers of Nyktos,” he answered. “You can see the Seas of Saion from there, and the Isles of Bele,” he added. “And, yes, the Goddess of the Hunt slumbers there.
“I have so many questions.”
“There is not a single person surprised to hear that,” Kieran remarked.
Delano laughed as he turned his head to the sky, basking in the sun.
A bell tolled, startling me. Leaves rattled as a flock of birds took flight from the nearby trees, their feathers a vivid green and blue.
The bell tolled five more times.
I tensed. “Is something happening?” I looked around, and no one appeared concerned. I only ever heard a bell ring when there was an attack or something afoot.
Jasper smiled at me. “It is only telling the time. It’s six in the evening,” he explained. “It’ll ring every hour until midnight and then resume at eight.”
“Oh.” That was clever. Ahead, I noticed someone on horseback riding toward us.
Casteel slowed the horse as Jasper said, “Here comes the
welcoming party of one.”
“Who is it?” I asked.
“Alastir,” he told me. “He must’ve been waiting for us.”
The advisor to the King and Queen arrived within a few minutes, a smile softening the deep scar in his forehead.
“You cannot believe how relieved I am to see you. All of you,”
Alastir said, and the strangest thing happened.
A shivery feeling of icy fingers danced across the back of my neck. Gods, he sounded so much like Vikter, but— “You must tell me what became of Spessa’s End.” Alastir drew his horse up to our side, clasping Casteel’s hand. “But I must warn you.” His voice dropped low. “Your father and mother are here, and your arrival was spotted. They know you’ve come home.”
My stomach fell beyond my feet. I hadn’t planned on meeting his parents this quickly. They were supposed to be in the capital.”
Casteel was of like mind. “What are they doing here?”
“They came as soon as they learned of the trouble in Spessa’s End. Your damn father was about to cross the mountain. I assured him that our forces would make it…” He trailed off as he caught sight of the ring on Casteel’s left hand. He turned Casteel’s palm upward.
His skin blanched. “You did it.” He twisted in his saddle, looking toward my left hand. His gaze met mine. “You actually did it.”
“We did,” Casteel said. “Just like we told you.”
“You missed it,” Jasper chimed in as I picked up on the disbelief and concern radiating from Alastir. Which wasn’t surprising. He’d wanted us to wait until Casteel spoke with his parents. “Day turned to night at the end of the ceremony. Nyktos gave his approval.”
Alastir blinked as if he hadn’t expected that. “Well, that is…that is good news. Perhaps that will be of aid when the King and Queen are made aware, but I need to speak with you Casteel, in private.”
“Whatever you need to say to me, you can say in front of my wife,” Casteel replied, and my already unstable stomach flipped.
Wife.
Why was that such a shock to hear? It was a pleasant surprise, though.
“This is a conversation regarding the kingdom and I mean no offense, but she is not a part of the Crown yet,” Alastir replied. “Nor privy to such information.”
Casteel stiffened behind me, and I knew he was about to push back, and the last thing I wanted was him to be standing here arguing with Alastir about what I was privy to when his parents arrived.
“It’s okay. No offense taken,” I said, tapping his arm. “I would like to stretch my legs a bit anyway.”
Casteel wasn’t at all happy about that, but Beckett offered, “I can show her the Chambers of Nyktos. It’s not very far from here,” he said. “That is, if you’d like.”
“I would like that,” I readily agreed, latching on to the offer as if it were a lifeline. “That’s what I would like to do.”
“Then that’s what you will do,” Casteel replied.
My heart was pumping so fast as Casteel dismounted and helped me get down that I wouldn’t have been surprised if I fainted.
How embarrassing would that be? The first time to faint…at the feet of my father and mother-in-law, the former the King who still planned to use me as a message.
But that would change. It had to. Not just because the gods favored me, but because what Casteel and I shared was real.
“One second.” Casteel motioned at Beckett as Quentyn went to the young wolven’s side. He drew me slightly away from the others, under the shade of one of the nearby trees. “I’m sorry about this,” he
said. “I had no idea they’d be here. I wanted to give you some time before I introduced you. That was what I planned.”
“I know, and honestly, I’m glad that Alastir was here to warn us and that he wants to talk to you. It will give me some time to…I don’t know.” I felt my cheeks flush. “Prepare myself.”
“You don’t need to be nervous.”
“Really?” I replied dryly.
“I’m trying to be helpful.” A half-grin appeared and then vanished. “We’ve faced scarier things than parents caught off guard, and we will face far more frightening things. Just remember that this,”—he picked up my left hand and turned it over—“is real,” he said, echoing my earlier thoughts. “We’re real. No matter what.”
I stared down at the dazzling gold swirl on my palm. “No matter what.”
Curling a finger under my chin, he lifted my head, and his lips found mine. He kissed me, and it was no short peck on the lips.
People watched us, but Casteel took his sweet time, and by the time he lifted his head, I felt faint for a whole different reason.
“No matter what,” he repeated.
Nodding, I pulled away from him and turned to where Beckett waited, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“Poppy?”
I turned back to Casteel, and the moment I saw him, I felt the breath I took catch in my throat. The way he stared at me, the intensity in his fiery golden eyes, rooted me to the spot. What I felt from him…it tasted like the smoothest chocolate and the sweetest berries.
Casteel’s chest rose with an uneven breath. “I’ll come for you.”
I love you.
That was what I thought Casteel was going to say. That was what I felt from him, but those words didn’t pass his lips.
They hadn’t passed mine either.
Whatever disappointment I might’ve felt was quickly lost to wonder as Beckett led me through the woods. The wolven hadn’t
been an excited chatterbox, and I could tell he was still wary of me. I picked up the faint trace of fear from him, and I imagined he was challenging himself to get past that by offering to take me to the Chambers.
The trees were full of the calls and chirps of birds, but as Beckett had said, the Chambers weren’t that far. We left the wooded area fairly quickly.
The structure rose against the deep blue of the sky, the limestone and marble a glistening white in the sun.
We walked through a short field of tiny blue and yellow flowers.
The closer I got, the more I realized how large the temple still was. It was nearly the length of Castle Teerman.
“Good gods,” I said, glancing at Beckett. “This thing is huge.”
He nodded as he quickly glanced at me. “It’s one of the largest of the Temples here.”
“Why is it called the Chambers?” I asked as we climbed the steep steps, welcoming the distraction. Vines scaled the wide steps, all the way to the top where they wrapped around the columns.
“It’s because there are tombs underneath.”
I stopped near the top and looked at him. “Seriously?”
A nervous giggle left him. “Yeah. The entrance to them is on the side. It’s where some of the ancient ones have been buried—the deities, I mean.”
“Sorry. Graveyards and tombs kind of weird me out,” I admitted as I started walking again.
“Same.” A quick smile appeared. “Especially these. You feel…I don’t know, like those who are entombed are watching you.”
A warm, salty breeze reached us as we came to the top. I didn’t know where to look first. Pebbles and much larger rocks were scattered across the Atlantian Crest that had been engraved into the stone floors.
Statues of the gods stood between the columns, each one with one arm outstretched. Nyktos was the tallest of them all, and he stood in the very center of the Temple, the toes of his feet brushing the Atlantian Crest. All were sculpted so it appeared the sun rose behind them, and they held torches in their stone hands, empty of flames, of life.
Tearing my gaze from them, I walked to one side. The beauty of what I saw was stunning. I’d never seen water so clear. Bright blue, green, and even red coral was clearly visible underneath. Farther out, where the water deepened, it was a shade as blue as the sky above. I knew there were other things to see, like the trees of Aios that were visible from the Chambers, but I couldn’t tear my gaze from the sea. The next breath I took was steady and calming as if I hadn’t taken a breath as deep as this one in, well, forever. I blinked, realizing there were tears in my eyes. Normally, I wouldn’t get choked up by seeing a body of water, but it…it felt like home.
“Thank you for healing my legs,” Beckett said, startling me. As terrible as it was, I’d forgotten that he was there. “I know I said that before, but I, uh, I just wanted to say it again. You have no idea what you did for me.”
It took me a moment before I trusted myself to speak. The poor kid was already uncomfortable around me. He didn’t need me to start sobbing all over him. “You didn’t need to thank me before, and you don’t need to do it now.” I touched the warm stone of a column.
“I’m glad I could help.”
Off in the distance, I could make out the Isles of Bele. They appeared large, as if they could house two or three towns the size of Spessa’s End. There was something at the highest peak of the center island. A Temple? I started to ask Beckett what it was when I realized that he hadn’t responded to me.
Pulling my gaze from the sparkling waters, I turned, and every muscle in my body immediately locked up. Beckett was gone.
But I wasn’t alone.
Several people stood by the statue of Nyktos. Mostly men, but a few women. There were at least a dozen, a mix of Atlantian and mortal. Not a single wolven among them. But they were all dressed the same, wearing loose white pants and tighter, sleeveless shirts.
Their arms were adorned with golden bands similar to those I’d seen on the Guardians in Spessa’s End. Their attire, the way they stared at me, reminded me of the Priests and Priestesses in Solis.
Except the Priests and Priestesses didn’t carry weapons. All of them wore a golden, narrow, long dagger strapped across their chests.
Goosebumps pimpled my skin. I recognized none of them, but I knew what they were feeling. Anger surged from them, thickening the air, and it mixed with my stinging disbelief as what was happening began to sink in. Instinct flared to life.
“You shouldn’t be here,” an Atlantian said, taking a step forward.
“You should’ve never crossed the Skotos Mountains. Your mere
presence is a taint, Maiden.”
These people knew exactly who I was.
I quickly glanced at the exit—the only exit. They blocked it, and their anger—their hatred—it kept stretching out toward me, coating my skin like a too-coarse blanket, filling the back of my throat with hot acid. I severed the connection, picturing each cord being snipped away until there was nothing inside me but my pounding heart. Once I locked them out, I scanned the Temple again, this time looking for any sign of the young wolven. There was none, and everything inside me knew what had been done, even if I didn’t understand why.
He’d been so happy when I first met him. I’d healed him. No other wolven had been unkind toward me.
But he…he had led me here. He’d offered to bring me here, and then he’d left me.
Left me to those who I’d never seen or met before but who
hated me nonetheless.
But they did not choose you.
My skin flushed hot and then cold. It had been a trap. One of opportunity or something planned, I had no idea. And I didn’t know how this had been orchestrated—if these people had been waiting or for how long. But it didn’t change what this was. The betrayal, the disappointment, and the bone-deep hurt sank its razor-sharp claws into me. I stared at the nameless faces, feeling as if my chest had cracked open.
It had been so silly of me to want these people to accept me.
And so incredibly naive for me to take that flicker of hope and hold onto it. I wanted to scream. I wanted to…gods, I wanted to cry. And I
wanted to rage.
But I couldn’t.
I needed to stay calm. This was a trap, but they knew who I was, and that meant they also had to know that I was Casteel’s wife.
They couldn’t seriously think to harm me. I needed to deescalate the situation somehow. The mortals wouldn’t be a problem. The Atlantians standing before them could become one, however.
Still, I lowered my right hand to where my sweater hid the wolven dagger. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know this area was forbidden, and I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, but I am not an Ascended, and I never chose to be the Maiden. I fought against them at—”
“You’re something worse,” a woman interrupted, and I realized she held something in her closed fist. “We know what you really are.
We know how you managed to gain the Prince’s trust, empath. Soul Eater.”
A prickly wave of dread skated over my skin. None of these people had been in Spessa’s End or at New Haven. Had Alastir told someone? I doubted that Kieran would have during his brief return.
At the moment, none of that mattered. What did was that what Alastir had said was right. So was Casteel, even though he hadn’t wanted to say it. And I already suspected as much. Because of who I was and who I wasn’t, they wouldn’t accept me, and they feared me.
And that fear fed their hatred. That was the most dangerous of all. “I am not that either,” I said, watching the woman’s hand—their hands. A man held something, too. “I cannot feed off emotional energy or heighten fear. I didn’t even know what I was until—”
“Close your mouth, whore,” the Atlantian spat.
I blinked, shocked into silence by the slur.
“You speak out of both sides of your mouth,” he continued. “Your lies may have worked on the others, but they will not work on us.”
“You will not find what you seek here,” a woman said, and I immediately thought of the voice I’d heard last night. “You will not destroy Atlantia from within. You may have warped the Prince’s mind, but you will not succeed with us.”
“I haven’t done anything to him.” My fingers curled under the hem of my sweater.
“Other than attempt to kill him?” another challenged as the clouds formed above us.
Well, that was hard to defend, and also something none of them should’ve known.
“Or led an army of Ascended to the walls of Spessa’s End?” another claimed, and that was also hard to defend. “People died,
didn’t they?”
People had.
“The Ascended disguised you as a Maiden. Sending you right into the heart of Atlantia,” the Atlantian man said, the one who had spoken first. “We will not let you destroy Atlantia. We will not allow you to destroy us all, whore of the Ascended.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” I fought my anger and was losing. I was too damn…hurt, and I refused to stand here and listen to them accuse me of working with the Ascended. I had killed countless people to defend Spessa’s End. I had been prepared to end my own life to protect that town. “I speak nothing but the truth when I say I am sorry for all that you may have suffered at the hands of the Ascended. I can even understand your distrust and dislike of me, but if one of you calls me a whore one more time, you will regret it.”
“Because of the Prince?” The Atlantian sneered. “Do you think we’re not willing to die to protect our kingdom from even him? The Prince is already lost to us, just as Malik was.”
“Your Prince is not lost to you.” My fingers brushed the sheath of the dagger as the sun hid behind a dark cloud. “And it’s not my husband you have to worry about. It’s me.”
Focused on the Atlantian, I’d forgotten about the woman—about what she held. I didn’t even see her lift her arm. It was such a stupid misstep on my part. Vikter would be so disappointed.
Pain exploded, stunning me. I gasped, clutching my throbbing
shoulder as I looked down.
A rock.
She’d thrown a rock.
I almost laughed, only because she could’ve thrown something worse. Like the dagger strapped to her chest. Anything more dangerous than a rock.
“That hurt,” I bit out as the clouds darkened, becoming fat and heavy. The scent of rain filled the air, and in the distance, the warning of thunder rumbled. “But seriously? A rock?”
“You think we fear you?” the Atlantian male said, withdrawing his dagger. “You’re not a threat when you can’t touch us. We know how Soul Eaters feed. We know how you sense emotion. You must come into contact with flesh.”
That was not how that worked. “There appears to be a lot of things you have no understanding of.” I unsheathed the dagger. To hell with making the situation worse. “I am not your enemy, but you’re quickly becoming mine.”
“But you’re not anything but a scarred whore for the Ascended,” the woman replied calmly as thunder clapped, closer now.
Before I could even question how I could be both the Maiden and a whore, a new pain erupted along the side of my head, so sudden and shocking that I dropped the dagger as I staggered back.
I quickly realized that the stoning was only meant to incapacitate me so they could get closer. Another rock hit me in the stomach, then my leg, my arms— A streak of lightning lit the sky over the sea. Thunder boomed, echoing through the columns of the Temple as sudden agony lanced my brow when a rock connected with my forehead and the scarred skin there, so sharp and startling that it sent me to my knees. My hold on my senses loosened and then shattered. It was like a crevice cracked wide open in me as wet warmth trickled down my temple.
Ascended trash. Soul Eater. Whore. Words fell in time with their rocks, but it was what I felt from them that landed heavier blows.
“Enough,” I whispered.
Their anger and hatred beat at me as I looked down, seeing my blood falling against the stone. I couldn’t breathe. Their raw emotions were an endless rolling tide, and underneath it was a hum, a whirring from the very core of me. My skin vibrated. Just like it had when the soldiers surrounded Casteel and I before the wolven had arrived.
Something red splashed on the ground, tainting the pearly stone. More blood. Another drop joined it, seeping into the cracks.
The marble trembled under my feet as roots appeared in the stone, thin as fragile veins, they crept out from the crack. I blinked a sting from my eyes, and the roots disappeared. Another splash of crimson fell and another, this one farther from where I stood.
It was blood.
But it wasn’t mine.
It fell from above.
The skies bled.
Chapter 45
Dizzy, I lifted my head to see blood falling like rain from the crimson-hued cloud that stretched over the Temple and the cove.
It spattered the pristine white of the Temple floor, dampening my clothing and turning the white clothing of those who stood before me pink. It seemed to stun them as they cast their gazes to the sky.
“Tears of an angry god,” someone whispered.
My gaze shifted to the blur of unfamiliar faces.
“It is an omen,” the Atlantian who had unsheathed his dagger announced. “They’re showing us that they know what must be done
and what we will face.”
“Enough,” I said again.
“For Atlantia,” a woman said. She was closer. A mortal with Atlantian blood and crimson streaking her face. An Atlantian stood beside her, his lips peeled back to expose his fangs and the hatred in his snarl reminded me of a Craven. Of an Ascended.
“From blood and ash.” The Atlantian raised the dagger. “We will rise again, my brothers and sisters.”
The hum in my blood grew, the buzz in my skin intensified, stronger than what I’d felt before, and that ancient sense of knowledge rose deep from my pain. The cords I could see so clearly rippled out from me, connecting me to each and every one of them.
It gathered all their burning hatred and scorching loathing, their acidic bitterness and thirst for vengeance after years, decades, centuries of pain inflicted upon them. And I took it.
I took it all inside me, letting it pour into every vein, every cell until it choked me, until I tasted the blood, until I drowned in it. Until I tasted death, and it was sweet.
“Enough!” I screamed as the connection to them—to all of them —crackled with energy. The cords that had always been invisible, lit up in silver, becoming visible to not only my eyes but theirs.
“Your eyes,” the Atlantian with the dagger gasped, staggering back.
Moonlight glow spilled out of me, seeping over the stone and rippling into the charged air as I stood. Thunder rolled endlessly, shaking the Temple and the nearby trees.
“Dear gods,” the Atlantian whispered, his dagger slipping from his fingers to fall soundlessly to the tile. “Forgive us.”
Too late.
The cords connecting me to all of them contracted as I threw out my arms. All the hate, the loathing, the bitterness and vengeance intensified, tripled, and then erupted from me, traveling through each of those cords, finding their way back home.
Lightning streaked overhead like a thousand screams as the group’s rancid emotions choked them.
Hair blew back from faces. Clothing pulled taut against bodies.
Feet slid over stone, and they went down, one after another after another as if they were nothing more than fragile saplings caught in a windstorm.
I watched as their vileness continued feeding back to them.
I watched as they clutched at their heads, writhing and spasming, screaming and shrieking until the bones in their throats
caved in under their contempt.
And then…nothing.
Silence in and outside of me. I was empty again—no hatred, no anger, no pain. Empty and cold.
I sucked in air, staggering as the silver cords connected to them sparked and fizzled out. The rain eased and then stopped, forming pinkish puddles across the floor.
Those on the stone didn’t move, they didn’t thrash and squirm.
Red. There was so much red around them that ran in rivulets to the puddles, deepening the pinkish hue. They lay still, their bodies twisted and contorted as if they had been thrown about by the gods themselves. Eyes wide and mouths hanging open, hands clenched tightly around rocks or their crushed throats.
I felt nothing from them.
The bells tolled again, this time rapidly with no pauses between the gongs, and the Temple shuddered. Stone cracked behind me.
The scent of blood and rich soil spilled into the air. A shadow fell
over me, stretched across the floor like hundreds of bare bone fingers.
Slowly, I turned around, and my gaze crawled up thick, glistening bark and across the bare limbs of a massive tree. Tiny golden buds formed all over and blossomed, thousands unfurling to reveal blood-red leaves.
A Blood Forest tree stood, rooted where my blood had first fallen.
Movement snagged my gaze. My head jerked to the left, and whatever breath I managed to get into my lungs fled.
They were sleek shadows prowling up the wide steps, hesitating there, surveying the bodies on the stone floor.
Heads turned to one another. Pairs of keen, frosted eyes lifted to where I stood before the blood tree, breathing heavily. I tensed.
Behind them, larger ones pressed forward. Two. Three. Four. So many more. There were dozens. Maybe even a hundred. Perhaps more. Each one greater than the one before them, their fur glossy in the sunlight as the clouds overhead scattered, their eyes an incandescent blue I’d never seen before. Their ears perked and nostrils twitched as they scented the air—the blood.
As they scented me.
I recognized the shock of Delano’s white fur and then my heart twisted as I saw Kieran, his unnaturally bright eyes fixed on me, on the silvery light that still glowed around me.
Claws clicked on stone as they came forward, stepping over the fallen, heads down low, slowly moving around me, circling me,
making room… Good gods.
The color of steel, the wolven was double the size of any I’d seen, nearly as tall as me. Maybe even taller, and it stalked forward, paws the size of two of my hands.
It was Jasper. During the battle at Spessa’s End, I hadn’t realized how large he was.
The silver wolven stopped in front of me, meeting my wide-eyed stare with those unnerving, glowing eyes, and I knew if I ran or reached for the fallen dagger to protect myself, I wouldn’t make it an inch.
A shivery sense of awareness drew my gaze from Jasper, from the wolven, and beyond the statue of Nyktos.
Casteel came up the steps, his dark hair wet and windblown as if he’d run faster than the wind could travel. Faint traces of red streaked his face as he stalked forward, features stark and chin dipped low.
It struck me then, sort of dumbly, that Casteel looked like some kind of god standing there. In black, with his swords strapped to his sides, and the near brutal hardness that had settled into the striking planes and angles of his features, he reminded me of the god Theon.
Jasper turned to the Prince. The other wolven stopped circling me. Casteel’s chest rose and fell heavily as he stepped around a body, stopping only when Jasper let out a low rumble of warning.
He drew up short, taking in me, the wolven, the bodies, and the lit torches. His eyes widened a fraction as something akin to understanding flickered across his face.
“My gods,” he uttered. Golden eyes met and held mine as Casteel crossed his arms, withdrawing his swords.
Air lodged in my throat as pressure clamped down on my chest,
squeezing my heart.
Casteel hadn’t arrived alone.
Others were climbing the steps. Naill. Emil. Alastir. Familiar faces. Nameless ones. My senses flickered to life in me, sensing… sensing fear and awe and so many different emotions that I was afraid it would all overwhelm me again, and I would… I didn’t even know what I’d done.
Growls rumbled from the other wolven as two more crested the top of the stairs, followed by several dressed as the ones sprawled across the ground, their golden swords drawn. I should be concerned by them, but it was the two who had entered before them that captured my attention.
A tall, blond man, broad of shoulder and dressed in a white tunic stained from the blood rain, whose cut jaw, straight nose, and high cheekbones were painfully familiar. He drew up short, his hand going to the sword at his side.
“Impossible,” breathed the woman who stood beside him, her hair a glossy onyx tucked back in a loose knot at the nape of her neck. The shape of her eyes and her mouth was also familiar, and she was beautiful, absolutely as breathtaking as the disbelief that poured from her.
Even if it weren’t for the similarities, the crowns of twisted, bleached bone would’ve told me who they were.
Queen Eloana’s hand pressed to the bodice of her simple, sleeveless lavender gown—a gown stained by the rain that had fallen. “Hawke…”
The silvery glow around me pulled back and faded, seeping into my skin as my entire body shuddered.
“What have you done?” she asked, her eyes as vibrant as her son’s as she stepped forward. “What have you brought back?”
“It’s not too late,” Alastir spoke, startling me. “It’s not, Eloana—”
“Yes.” Her gaze swept back to me, to where the wolven surrounded me and then to her son.
My gaze swiveled back to Casteel. He stood right there, no more than a dozen feet or so from me, but it seemed like an impossible distance, an impassible gulf.
He stood right there.
Hawke.
Casteel.
The Prince of Atlantia.
The Dark One.
My husband.
My heartmate.
Casteel lowered to one knee, crossing the swords over his chest as he bowed his head between the vee of the deadly sharp blades.
A stuttered heartbeat passed, and he lifted his chin just enough that he saw me.
The wolven sank onto their haunches, heads bowed, but their lips peeling back in snarls as those behind the King and Queen quietly advanced.
“Yes, it is,” his mother spoke again, reaching up and curling her fingers around the twisted bones.
Queen Eloana removed her crown, and with wide eyes, I watched her place it on the Temple floor, at the feet of the statue of Nyktos.
With a whoosh of air, flames roared from the stone torch of Nyktos, flickering and dancing in the wind. The other torches followed suit, fire sparking to life, and the bones of the crown shimmered, the bleached whiteness of them cracking, slipping away and turning to ash, revealing the gilded bones underneath.
“Lower your swords,” she commanded, her chin lifting even as she lowered to one knee, even as a potent, helpless sort of rage drenched the space around her, one that carried the stench of a long-buried fear come to fruition. “And bow before the…before the last descendent of the most ancient ones, she who carries the blood of the King of the Gods within her. Bow before your new Queen.”
Get your free copy of the Red Pearl bonus scene here!
Discover More Jennifer L. Armentrout
If you’re Team Hawke, you will love Caden.
If your Royal is Casteel, you’ll fall for the Prince.
Discover the Summer King Trilogy…
The Prince: A Wicked Novella Click here to purchase.
She’s everything he wants….
Cold. Heartless. Deadly. Whispers of his name alone bring fear to fae and mortals alike. The Prince. There is nothing in the mortal world more dangerous than him. Haunted by a past he couldn’t control, all Caden desires is revenge against those who’d wronged him, trapping him in never-ending nightmare. And there is one person he knows can help him.
She’s everything he can’t have…
Raised within the Order, Brighton Jussier knows just how dangerous the Prince is, reformed or not. She’d seen firsthand what atrocities he could be capable of. The last thing she wants to do is help him, but he leaves her little choice. Forced to work alongside him, she begins to see the man under the bitter ice. Yearning for him feels like the definition of insanity, but there’s no denying the heat in his touch and the wicked promise is his stare.
She’s everything he’ll take….
But there’s someone out there who wants to return the Prince to his former self. A walking, breathing nightmare that is hell bent on
destroying the world and everyone close to him. The last thing either of them needs is a distraction, but with the attraction growing between them each now, the one thing he wants more than anything may be the one thing that will be his undoing.
She’s everything he’d die for….
* * * *
The King: A Wicked Novella Click here to purchase.
From #1 New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Jennifer L. Armentrout comes the next installment in her Wicked series.
As Caden and Brighton's attraction grows despite the odds stacked against a happily ever after, they must work together to stop an Ancient fae from releasing the Queen, who wants nothing more than to see Caden become the evil Prince once feared by fae and mortals alike.
* * * *
The Queen: A Wicked Novella Click here to purchase.
The King must have his Queen....
Bestowed the forbidden Summer’s Kiss by the King of the Summer fae, Brighton Jussier is no longer just human. What she is, what she will become, no one knows for sure, but that isn’t her biggest concern at the moment. Now Caden, the King, refuses to let her go, even at the cost of his Court. When the doorway to the Otherworld is breached, both Brighton and Caden must do the unthinkable—not just to survive themselves, but also to save mankind from the evil that threatens the world.
* * * *
From Blood and Ash Click here to purchase.
Captivating and action-packed, From Blood and Ash is a sexy, addictive, and unexpected fantasy perfect for fans of Sarah J. Maas and Laura Thalassa.
A Maiden…
Chosen from birth to usher in a new era, Poppy’s life has never been her own. The life of the Maiden is solitary. Never to be touched.
Never to be looked upon. Never to be spoken to. Never to experience pleasure. Waiting for the day of her Ascension, she would rather be with the guards, fighting back the evil that took her family, than preparing to be found worthy by the gods. But the choice has never been hers.
A Duty…
The entire kingdom’s future rests on Poppy’s shoulders, something she’s not even quite sure she wants for herself. Because a Maiden has a heart. And a soul. And longing. And when Hawke, a golden-eyed guard honor bound to ensure her Ascension, enters her life, destiny and duty become tangled with desire and need. He incites her anger, makes her question everything she believes in, and tempts her with the forbidden.
A Kingdom…
Forsaken by the gods and feared by mortals, a fallen kingdom is rising once more, determined to take back what they believe is theirs through violence and vengeance. And as the shadow of those cursed draws closer, the line between what is forbidden and what is right becomes blurred. Poppy is not only on the verge of losing her heart and being found unworthy by the gods, but also her life when
every blood-soaked thread that holds her world together begins to unravel.
* * * *
Dream of You: A Wait For You Novella Click here to purchase.
Abby Erickson isn't looking for a one-night stand, a relationship, or anything that involves any one-on-one time, but when she witnesses a shocking crime, she's thrust into the hands of the sexiest man she's ever seen - Colton Anders. His job is to protect her, but with every look, every touch, and every simmering kiss, she's in danger of not only losing her life but her heart also.
Sign up for the Blue Box Press/1001 Dark Nights Newsletter and be entered to win a Tiffany Lock necklace.
There's a contest every quarter!
Click here to subscribe.
As a bonus, all subscribers can download FIVE FREE exclusive books!
Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Seven Click here for more information.
THE BISHOP by Skye Warren A Tanglewood Novella
TAKEN WITH YOU by Carrie Ann Ryan A Fractured Connections Novella
DRAGON LOST by Donna Grant A Dark Kings Novella
SEXY LOVE by Carly Phillips A Sexy Series Novella
PROVOKE by Rachel Van Dyken A Seaside Pictures Novella
RAFE by Sawyer Bennett An Arizona Vengeance Novella
THE NAUGHTY PRINCESS by Claire Contreras A Sexy Royals Novella
THE GRAVEYARD SHIFT by Darynda Jones A Charley Davidson Novella
CHARMED by Lexi Blake A Masters and Mercenaries Novella
SACRIFICE OF DARKNESS by Alexandra Ivy A Guardians of Eternity Novella
THE QUEEN by Jen Armentrout A Wicked Novella
BEGIN AGAIN by Jennifer Probst A Stay Novella
VIXEN by Rebecca Zanetti A Dark Protectors/Rebels Novella
SLASH by Laurelin Paige A Slay Series Novella
THE DEAD HEAT OF SUMMER by Heather Graham A Krewe of Hunters Novella
WILD FIRE by Kristen Ashley A Chaos Novella
MORE THAN PROTECT YOU by Shayla Black A More Than Words Novella
LOVE SONG by Kylie Scott A Stage Dive Novella
CHERISH ME by J. Kenner A Stark Ever After Novella
SHINE WITH ME by Kristen Proby A With Me in Seattle Novella
And new from Blue Box Press:
TEASE ME by J. Kenner A Stark International Novel
FROM BLOOD AND ASH by Jennifer L. Armentrout A Blood and Ash Novel
QUEEN MOVE by Kennedy Ryan
THE HOUSE OF LONG AGO by Steve Berry and MJ Rose A Cassiopeia Vitt Adventure
THE BUTTERFLY ROOM by Lucinda Riley
A KINGDOM OF FLESH AND FIRE by Jennifer L. Armentrout A Blood and Ash Novel
Discover the World Of 1001 Dark Nights
Collection One
Collection Two
Collection Three
Collection Four
Collection Five
Collection Six
Bundles
Discovery Authors
Blue Box Press
Rising Storm
Liliana Hart's MacKenzie Family
Lexi Blake's Crossover Collection
Kristen Proby's Crossover Collection
On Behalf of Blue Box Press, Liz Berry, M.J. Rose, and Jillian Stein would like to thank ~
Steve Berry
Doug Scofield
Benjamin Stein
Kim Guidroz
Social Butterfly PR
Ashley Wells
Chelle Olson
Hang Le
Stephanie Brown
Chris Graham
Jessica Johns
Dylan Stockton
Celia Taylor Mobley
Richard Blake and Simon Lipskar
Table of Contents
Book Description
Book Description
About Jennifer L. Armentrout
Also from Jennifer L. Armentrout
Acknowledgments from the Author
Dedication
Map
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three Chapter Forty-Four