Chapter 5

Iopened my eyes to find a Soul Reaper hovering above me through a haze of beautiful golden light, the ghoulish monster weaving back and forth, all its attention focused on whatever was to my right.

Gods, the horrid thing was so fucking close.

Worse, it wasn't looking at me.

I managed to slide my eyes sideways. The Reaper stared straight at Tavion, and though the creature's face was nothing but shadow, I swore its expression turned ravenous. Not a surprise since Tavion was covered in still-healing wounds. A hundred little doorways where this horror could get inside his skin.

I didn't stop to think.

I pulled up a swell of magic and shredded the Reaper apart.

Then collapsed onto my back, writhing on a bed of agony while Tavion shouted for someone to keep going. My legs were on fire, flames licking up my legs, searing my flesh to charred ash. I tried to scrape away the fire, to stop the hurting, but Tavion captured my hands.

"That's only Bexley's healing magic, Anaria," he counseled gently before his head whipped away. "Don't hurt her or I'll fucking stab you in the heart, you coward."

I could only absorb bits and pieces through the blur of pain. A male with golden eyes. A cracked, stained ceiling overhead. The overwhelming stench of rot in the air.

Pain, pain, pain.

But Tavion was here. He was here; the Reaper hadn't gotten him after all.

"Hang onto me, Anaria. Use me." He wound my fingers around his wrist. "Use me to anchor yourself. I don't care if you hurt me. I don't care, just hang on. Hang on."

You're babbling and you're going to hate yourself later, I wanted to say, but nothing came out except a long, pitiful hiss followed by more pathetic, breathless panting.

This was…oh fuck, this was horrendous.

Worse than Solok, worse than the Mistress, worse than any torture I'd ever endured. I was being flayed from the inside out, fire and lightning and knives carving me hollow, one piece at a time.

The air in my lungs grew sticky, like there was too much moisture. Something crawled across my skin in a golden haze of light, like the pointed claws of a million skittering insects. I writhed, trying to escape the onslaught, fingernails digging into Tavion's skin so deep I had to be hurting him.

"That's it, use me, Anaria. Hang on," he coaxed. "Your legs are looking better; the magic is working." He sucked in a breath. "Keep going, you fuck, or I'll gut you."

I wanted to tell him to stop threatening people, but I could barely stay conscious.

Then the fiery pain eased off, enough for me to take stock of my surroundings. The Wynter Palace, the room where we'd—they'd—gotten drunk. Inexplicably, Torin's owl shifter was here, along with a very naked, light-haired stranger casting waves of burning gold, devouring fire magic over me.

Freezing air blasted through the room, extinguishing the candles and plunging the room into shadow. Boots stomped toward us, the sound of arguing growing closer. Tavion's body stiffened as he curled closer around me, his head flying up, eyes narrowing at whatever came through the door.

"How are you?" Torin asked, white eyes catching the fading glow of the fire. Then Raziel took up all my vision as he smoothed the hair back from my face. Even Tristan leaned closer, his widening gaze fixed on my legs.

I tried to find the words, tried to answer…

"Better," Tavion admitted, raw emotion thrumming in his voice. "Much better. There were some…" His gleaming eyes met mine. "Corvus's magic was still inside her, but once that was gone, her wounds started healing."

"You'll end up with faint scars," the healer apologized, glancing warily at Tavion. "But I'll do the best I can to make them fade."

"See that you do, Bexley," Torin said coldly. "You wasted valuable time trying to evade Simon to save your worthless, miserable hide. Your delay could have cost Anaria her life."

Torin sounded genuinely concerned, but then again, I was an integral part of her master plan to eliminate the two kings. Without me, everything fell apart.

"Zor?" I husked, my mouth like sandpaper. "Adele?"

"On their way. They hung back, should be here within the hour." Raziel leaned close enough for me to see the tears lining his dark eyes, then laid his warm palm on my forehead. "Fuck. You're burning up."

"That's good," the healer asserted. "Means the magic's working and her body is repairing itself. The healing will take all night if you ever expect her to walk again."

"Careful how you speak to her, mage," Raz warned, his tone dangerously calm. "She's worth a hundred of you, and if she doesn't walk again, I'll make sure you don't, either." The mage wilted beneath Raz's dark stare, and I sighed.

"Don't be an arse, Raziel. Bexley's been very kind." I tried to push up on my elbows to get a better view of my legs, fear writhing in my gut at what I'd see. "Tavion? Is that true?"

"The wounds were bad, Anaria." His face had that look. The one where he didn't want to scare me. "Things have been touch and go since you collapsed."

"Tell me what happened," I demanded, though the order came out a breathless whine. "The last thing I remember was riding for Nightcairn Castle, then I fell off the horse. How long was I out?"

"You were only out for a few hours. We're in the Wynter Palace; this was the safest place we could bring you. Torin knew a healer in the city." From the way Tavion's lip curled, I knew his opinion of this healer.

"Well, whatever he's doing is working," I declared in the poor healer's defense as I wrapped both hands around Tavion's. "You can ease off on the threats, Tavion. I'm alive, and if he says this will take all night, then let the poor male work."

"Thank the gods. Finally, someone with common sense," the male muttered.

"You're welcome," I said, then turned my head because when he stood up, he was still very, very naked.

"For fuck's sake, Bex, cover yourself up." Simon already had on a robe, a frilly purple silk one that dragged on the floor.

The owl shifter tossed an equally ridiculous pink and white robe at the mage, who rolled his eyes but hastily belted it around him. "Do you really think I want to be here, naked, with you lot? I was safe and happy in my own godsdamned house when Simon broke down my front door. Made enough ruckus we're lucky those Reapers didn't take us both over."

I pressed my hand to my racing heart.

Tried to ignore the painful itching taking over my lower legs.

Now that my head was clearing, everything was coming back like a bad nightmare. But I had the feeling all those splintered memories were real. Corvus's horrific magic had wrapped around my brain and shredded through my thoughts like claws through silk.

Then, when I'd opened my eyes, I'd found…a Reaper staring back.

"Was that thing…inside me?" Panic rose like a wave, and I scrubbed at my arms, trying to erase any remnants of that…thing. "Was I…possessed? Am I…Did I…Oh gods." My throat closed off. I couldn't get another word out.

That shadow had been inside me.

A Soul Reaper had been inside me.

I was infected. I had to be infected. There was no escaping the Reapers once they got in and if one was still inside me right now, then I was infected and I…

"Anaria. Anaria. You're fine." Tavion gripped my shoulders, forcing me to look up at him. "You are fine. Corvus's magic got in through the cuts on your legs." But Tavion looked rattled when he glanced at Raziel, ignoring Torin completely.

"Bexley couldn't heal Anaria because of Corvus's magic inside her," he explained. "Anaria was the only one strong enough to push him out. But once she expelled him, that spent magic took the form of a Soul Reaper."

"That's how she kept making them," Torin whispered, her face a pale mask. "There was a never-ending supply of Reapers, and the Oracle kept amassing them somewhere beneath the Citadelle. I searched for the source but couldn't figure out where they were coming from."

Corvus made the Reapers.

Like so many of our discoveries, that information settled into me like a truth I already knew.

The more I used my magic, the longer we were together, the more meshed to the past I felt. Something to talk about with the others once we got a chance.

But I'd had a Soul Reaper inside me, barely evicting it in time. I swallowed then searched every last dark corner inside me for any hint of that twisted, dark evil.

"Anaria, you are fine. There is nothing of a Reaper about you, not even their scent." He tapped the side of his nose. "If you were a Reaper, I'd smell it."

His unshakable confidence actually made me feel better.

"Okay. What about the king?" I looked at Torin. "Did Carex know the Oracle was an Old God?"

She shook her head. "No, not until those final days, if then."

I narrowed my eyes. "Did you know what she was?"

Torin and Simon traded a long look before she blew out a shaky breath. "Yes. I've known what she was for a very long time. A hundred years."

"And you never thought to warn us of who she was? You didn't think that was a fucking important detail we should have known before we went to fucking war with the most powerful entities in the world?" Tavion took the words out of my mouth as he shot to his feet, sweeping his sword off the floor and gripping the pommel like he was contemplating separating Torin's head from her shoulders.

Simon smoothly inserted himself between the seer and Tavion, and even in the frilly purple robe, strength and determination radiated from the shifter, his golden eyes glinting with a strength I hadn't seen before.

"We couldn't stop any of this from happening. Believe me, we tried. Overthrowing Carex was only the first step. We have to get rid of his brother, and then, if we are really fucking lucky and Anaria grows in power and we all don't fucking die, we can take on Corvus and Gelvira."

"Wait. Who?" I asked, my head whirling with new information.

"Gelvira. The Oracle. Corvus never changed his name because he's never lived amongst us. Never needed an alias." Simon's clever eyes skated over us, his mouth thinning out into a tight line as if he didn't quite approve of what he saw.

He pointed at Tavion. "You're Ardaric. Raziel is Gattica. Zorander is Vitigis, and DeVayne is Saphrax." His eyes were unreadable when he looked down at me. "And you are Amalla, the last and most powerful god. The one who binds them all together."

Everything went still, those unfamiliar-familiar names ringing through me like a long-lost truth I'd finally uncovered.

Those names matched the ones from that strange vision when I'd touched the skull. Raz's eyes met mine, and Tavion slowly sheathed his sword. Even from here, I saw his hand shaking. From fear or because of his condition, I didn't know.

"Well, how about that," Tavion murmured. "I always knew you were a liar, Torin, but it seems you know all our secrets."

"While keeping your own close," Raziel added in that velvety smooth voice as he pinned Torin beneath an icy stare. "Convenient, as usual."

The High Seer dipped her head, but from my vantage point, I saw the pointed way her eyes met Simon's. There was a question asked, an agreement made in that single look.

My blood chilled down even further.

What did they want?

We'd been riding for Nightcairn, for home and safety and a warm bed. For a respite from the blood and war. Now…I had a feeling none of those things lay ahead of us.

Suddenly my once-bright future slipped through my fingers, along with a crystal-clear revelation. This would never end. The killing. The suffering. The death.

Like the avalanche of rock that had crushed me—crushed Amalla—in that vision from so long ago, my future crashed down with enough force to pulverize my hopes, devastate my dreams, and leave me stuck in a void of aching despair.

I wasn't up to this task.

I was a fucking nobody. A slave girl who stole the power of a king.

Torin inclined her head, but her all-seeing gaze never left my face, as if she saw my every weakness, pity etched upon her beautiful features.

"We will tell you everything. But not until Zorander arrives." She caught Simon's hand, her knuckles whitening, she clenched his fingers so tightly. "Our story is complicated, and I have no wish to relive the past once, much less twice."

Her mouth quirked up in a sad smile. "Besides, we have a favor to ask, and I expect you will need time to consider our request." Her gaze landed on me again, but this time, it was thoughtful.

"For good or bad, we are now in this together."