Chapter One

I hated Aranren the Corrupter.

He had caused all of this with his war against the Emperor. No one would fight for him willingly, so he used Death Magic to corrupt humans—the only people on Varr without magic and therefore susceptible to magical corruption—and turn them into his mindless soldiers. The Emperor fought back by creating a special brand of warriors—the Wraith Lords. Chosen and blessed by the Goddess, we Wraith Lords have a piece of her magic. Spirit Magic. It's the only thing that can free people from corruption. My people.

But ever since I entered the war—the only human Wraith Lord, a man born with access to all the magical elements and Spirit—the Corrupter was getting more creative. He was now raising the dead, making minions that couldn't be freed from corruption since they had no souls in them to corrupt. They were also damn hard to put down. You can't kill something that's already dead. That is, until the Emperor and his mages developed a counterspell. But no sooner than we started freeing the dead, the Corrupter was on to new inventions.

Aranren used Death Magic to create manacles that could suppress a person's magic, including Spirit. He also invented poisonous barbs enhanced with Death Magic. We now had a spent barb and a pair of manacles because the barb had been used on Taroc and the manacles had been used on me. I thought Taroc had died when he'd been struck by the Corrupter's barb, but immortals can't be killed with poison and Wraith Lords can't be hurt by Death Magic. Well, I shouldn't say that. We could probably be hurt with certain forms of Death Magic, but the spell the Corrupter put in his poisoned barb didn't kill Taroc. Actually, the Goddess did that. While his body was healing from the poison, she took his soul into her realm so they could have a little chat.

As much as I hated Aranren, that's how much I loved the Goddess.

Not only had she looked after Taroc and me, but she had also brought Lord Jathalion back from the dead after Aranren had killed him. Oh, yes, there's more. The Corrupter had moved on from digging up corpses to killing humans just so he could raise them from the dead. Fresher bodies meant faster, stronger minions. When that worked well for him, he decided to try it out on a Wraith Lord. Jathalion.

But the Goddess smacked his ass back in line.

Jath—yes, I was back to calling him Jath now that he had returned from the dead with an improved attitude—and I escaped the Corrupter thanks to the Goddess's intervention. He pretended to be under Aranren's control until he could free me. Believing Jath to be his new minion, the Corrupter sent him out on a mission to capture my lovers. He even gave Jath a charm to get through his ward. And yes, we'd already tried to use that charm to sneak back into the Corrupter's fortress and kill him. Unfortunately, he either changed his ward or deactivated Jath's charm because it didn't work. At least Jath and I escaped and Taroc was alive.

Taroc—my fourth lover. Yup, fourth. I wasn't just the only human on Varr with magic. I was also destined to end the war, something foretold by the Goddess herself. But to do that, I had to fall in love. A lot. My special combination of magic allows me to open pathways between the men I love and myself. I bind us together with pieces of my soul, setting my wraith inside them. The bond allows me to share my magic with them, empower them, and also bring all of our magic together to create one big supercharged Wraith Lord weapon.

As of yet, that weapon hasn't been strong enough to kill Aranren. But it will be. I made that vow yet again as I listened to the orphaned children of Fress cry their tiny hearts out.

While I'd been imprisoned by the Corrupter, he had taunted me with some terrible information. He said that the people of Fress who I hadn't found yet, many of them parents of the children I had rescued from the Corrupter, were dead. He had killed them and turned them into his undead minions. They had probably been the first, the ones he had experimented on. Because of me. Aranren hated me as much as I hated him.

No, he doesn't, Death said.

I couldn't answer the Consciousness of Death Magic. Not while I was comforting the children. We had put off telling them about their parents for as long as possible. I was secretly hoping it was a lie. But that very morning, I'd been summoned to help a Dhon city under attack and I had seen a few of my old neighbors. They were dead, animated by magic alone. And I knew then that it was time to admit the truth and tell the kids.

I had been especially worried about Sally, a six-year-old girl who was my favorite (I can have favorites since I'm not a parent). But I wasn't the only one who loved Sally. The Emperor of Varr had also taken a liking to her. Well, more than a liking. He had become her guardian, claiming her as his ward. It was a huge leap forward for humans, who were looked down upon by the immortal races. But I wasn't thinking about that when I used Air Magic to send the Emperor a message that his Sally would need him. And he had come immediately. He had been there, holding her, while I told the children that their parents were gone.

Now, the Emperor of Varr sat on the floor of one of our sitting rooms, his royal robes spread carelessly around him as he rocked Sally. He had his head bent over her, his long hair a stunning veil that went from deep purple at the roots and faded to lavender at the ends. Even like that, cross-legged on a carpet with a child in his arms, he looked like royalty. Imperial. But he was a sad emperor today. As much as he wanted to adopt Sally and become her father instead of her uncle, he wanted her to be happy even more. And he mourned the loss of Sally's parents with her, his heart broken because hers was.

Many of us—Wraith Lords and humans—kept staring at the Emperor, our gazes drawn to the most powerful man on the planet. A man who wept openly for his only child—a human child who'd been born to human parents but who now fully belonged to him. You could see his claim in every stroke of his hand on her little head, every tear that slid down his cheek to blend with hers. They were becoming a family through this terrible trauma.

He doesn't hate you, Death said again.

It was then that I realized he was in my head. Without asking. This was something Death didn't do. Not usually. It was a pact between us. He had vowed not to enter my mind unless I allowed it. Not that he'd get far. I had wards in place to protect me from a true invasion, wards placed through meditation and magic.

I know I've invaded your mind without permission, Death said. But I wanted to comfort you, and I knew you wouldn't be able to reply to me out loud.

Go away , I said in my head. Then I focused on five-year-old Becky, whom I held and rocked. Out loud, I said, "You're going to be all right, Becky. Your mommy and daddy are with the Goddess now. She'll look after them while we look after you. But they'll watch over you from the afterworld."

"I don't want them to be with the Goddess," Becky said and sniffed. "I want them here with me, Uncle Ember."

"I know. I want that too. I'm so sorry. If I could, I'd bring them back for you."

The Emperor looked up at last, his elegant hand still pressed against Sally's back, rubbing soothingly. "You will all be looked after. I promise. I will provide for you. I can't bring back your parents, but I can honor them by taking care of you."

Sally sniffed and leaned back to look at the Emperor. "Where am I going to live now, Uncle Sarthy?"

The Emperor's face shivered. Sarthy. What a silly name for the great Emperor Sarthares of Varr. But he loved it. He loved her. It was carved into his face. "You'll live with me. If you'd like to."

Sally nodded.

The Emperor smiled gently, his relief shining through his shared pain. "Perhaps, when you're ready, I could adopt you."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I'd become your father." He hurried on before she could speak. "I won't replace your daddy. He will always be yours. He'll live forever right here." He pressed his hand onto Sally's sternum. "But we could be a new family. I would—"

"I'd be your daughter?" Sally cut him off.

The Emperor nervously cleared his throat. "Yes. Do you think you might be all right with that someday?"

"Can I call you Daddy?"

The Emperor's face did more than shiver. It rippled. He blinked back tears. Soft sounds came through his nose. He couldn't even speak, just nodded.

Sally sniffed and looked around the room at all the sad children. Her stare finally found me. I smiled as brightly as I could and nodded at her.

Sally looked back at the Emperor and said, "Can today be someday?"

With a broken breath, the Emperor pulled Sally into a hug, his eyes closing and face pulling together in relief and joy. He finally managed to say, "Yes, my Sally. Today can be someday."

So there was one good thing to come out of the tragedy. Sally—and all the survivors of Fress, for that matter—would be all right. The Emperor would see to it. Because one little human girl had conquered his heart. And maybe someday, Sally would become a symbol of hope to all the humans on Varr, as I was. They would see her and know that the Emperor cared about them too. So much could change for the better.

But I still hated the Corrupter.

He was just a man once. A man very much like you, Ember , Death said sadly.

Get the fuck out of my head!