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Psycho Gods
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THE CRUEL SHIFTERVERSE SERIES: ARAN'S STORY

BOOK 3
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JASMINE MAS
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Contents

Also by Jasmine Mas

Warning
Foreword
Foreword
Into the Stars
I. Clinomania
1. Aran
2. Aran
3. Luka
4. Aran
5. Aran
6. Scorpius
7. Aran

II. Conflagration
8. Aran
9. Aran
10. Orion
11. Aran
12. Corvus Malum
13. Aran
14. Aran
15. Luka
16. Aran
17. Jinx
18. Aran
19. Aran
20. Corvus Malum
21. Journal Prompt #1
22. Aran
23. Scorpius
24. Aran
25. Aran
III. Eccedentesiast
26. Aran
27. Aran
28. Aran
29. Corvus Malum
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30. Aran
31. John
32. Luka
33. Aran
34. Orion
35. Aran
36. Aran
37. Journal Prompt #2
38. Luka
39. Aran
40. Aran
41. Aran
42. Aran
43. Aran
44. Aran
45. Scorpius
46. Orion
47. John
48. Corvus Malum
49. Luka
50. Aran
51. Aran
52. Jinx
53. Aran
54. Corvus Malum
55. Aran
56. John
57. Aran
58. Aran
59. Aran
IV. Convalescence
60. Aran
61. Aran
62. Aran
63. Corvus Malum
64. Aran
65. Aran
66. Aran
67. Aran
68. Aran
69. Aran
70. Jinx
71. Journal Prompt #3
About the Author
Thank You
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Also by Jasmine Mas

The Cruel Shifterverse

Psycho Shifters
Psycho Fae
Psycho Beasts
Psycho Academy
Psycho Devils
Psycho Gods
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Copyright © 2023 by Jasmine Mas at WC Publishing LLC

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means,
including informational storage and retrieval systems, without permission from the author, except for
use of brief quotations in a book review.

Ebook ASIN: B0CC39Y9YQ

Editing and proofreading by Lyss Em Editing

Cover artists: Steamy Designs

Go to [Link] to receive news of releases and sneak peaks straight to your inbox.

936 SW 1st Ave, Unit #56, Miami Florida 33130

Created with Vellum
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Warning

THEY ARE TRUE ENEMIES. This is war. It is excessively violent. This is a

reverse harem. Everyone's a villain.
There are some intense situations in this book that might be triggering
for some readers. If you are concerned please refer to the trigger list on my
website [Link], click on the black “Trigger” tab at the top
right of the page for the list.
Please beware, the last chapter of the book might cause you to laugh so
hard that you cry :).
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“The effects of unresolved trauma can be devastating.”

—Dr. Peter Levine

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A regular person can survive only three hours without warmth.

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Into the Stars

ALL MYTHS ARE ROOTED in some truth.

This series is about different planets connected by black holes.
Aka, realms attached by portals with inhabitants you've heard of in myths and
dismissed as fairy tales.
There are politics, deceptions, and secrets on the macro scale. Y ellos
vary from realm to realm.
In the human realm, the inhabitants learn they live in an anarchic system, that
there is no supreme authority over different countries.
They're wrong.
The High Court secretly reigns sovereign over all the worlds. “Realm-
Wide Peace” is their motto.
Monsters enforce this peace. A next-to-impossible task because wealth corrupts,
but power destroys.
And among the hundreds of planets with sentient life, a few special individuals
possess power on the nuclear level—more energy in their cells than an atomic bomb.

The truth: Most individuals go their entire lives without knowing or caring about
the other realms or the creatures within them. They live in bliss.
In this series, ignorance isn't an option for our main characters.
Through birthright or circumstances, they're players in the macrolevel game.

Now all they must do is survive.

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Part One
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Clinomania

The games of the gods will corrupt your head.

Those who survive—were already dead.
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Chapter 1
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Aran
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FATHERS

CLINOMANIA (NOUN): an excessive desire to remain in bed; morbid sleepiness

I stumbled down the empty black marble hall of Elite Academy.

My footsteps echoed loudly.
Orion ran silently behind me. He was my escort because of the bond
sickness. My silent shadow.
Crack. Lightning struck the walls, and electricity made the hair on my arms
stand up as white spots danced in my gray vision.
I slipped on a patch of ice and barely kept myself upright.
Stained-glass windows mocked me—maroon was splashed across large
battle scenes; Slain soldiers clutched their swords as their souls were taken
into the valley of the sun god.
My stomach churned because the Legionnaire Games were over, and I
was going to war.
Soon, I'd be the downed soldier in the window.
It would be my blood.
Today was the day we left the academy for the realm overrun with ungodly.
In a few hours, I'd RJE to a military base and become a war leader.
I felt sick.
Ice cracked, spreading across my fingers, then slowly crawled up my
forearms, and I curled my hands under my armpits.
I looked back over my shoulder.
Shivered.
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My teeth chattered from the pervasive chill that was emanating from my
bones.
There was a path of cobalt ice coating the marble floors behind me, and
as I zigzagged across the hall, the ice snaked and followed me.
Orion stared at it with shocked wide eyes.
Pressure built in my empty chest.
I wanted to scream.
I'm just an angel. I know what I am—I'm just an ordinary angel.
The pressure in my shoulders from my retracted wings told another story,
and I grimaced because everything was falling apart.
I'd stayed up all night, twelve hours of straining with my wings spread wide,
and I hadn't risen an inch off the ground.
Nothing had happened.
I couldn't fly.
Then I'd envision an angel's ice sword forming in my hand, but yet again—
nothing.
Instead, as if mocking me, cobalt crawled along my fingers like gloves and
spread across the ground with every step I took. I had zero control over it.

The ice was useless.

I was useless.
It was simple: angels were powerful, and I was weak.
My footsteps echoed louder as I sprinted down the marble hall toward
Lothaire's office. A servant told me that my vampyre/tormentor/commander/sire
wanted to speak with me.
Lovely.
Does he know what's wrong with me?
When I got to Lothaire's office door, I went to open it but stopped.
Frozen with numbness, I watched ice spread from my feet and crawl up the
wood like an infection.
Time warped, and I stood still as a statue.
Eyes wide.
Unfeeling.
Sightless.
The door slammed open, and I jumped as Lyla walked out. The witch's
otherworldly eyes stared through me, and I averted my gaze, staring down at my
ice-coated feet.
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You didn't look fate in your eyes, especially not when your fate was as
corrupted as mine.
In my peripheral vision, Lyla's forest-colored hair blew on a phantom
breeze. White runes glowed across her dark skin. She stood inches away from
me and waited silently.
She smelled sharp, like grief mixed with destiny.
Pressure built in my eyes, and suddenly I was hyperaware of the gaping
emptiness inside my chest.
A horrible sense of foreboding slammed into me—things were going to get
dark. A long stretch of merciless night spread before me.
Lyla leaned close and whispered so quietly it took me a few seconds to
process what she'd said.
“You must embrace the dragon.”
Her soft words hung insidiously in the air between us.
“She's here,” she said loudly as lightning struck, then she walked away and
disappeared down the hall.
Lothaire responded. “Come in, Aran.” His voice had a strange inflection.
Orion sat down in the hall to wait for me.
I gingerly entered.
He stood up, single eye wide as he stared at the ice that spread out from
beneath my feet.
I hid my hands behind my sleeves and cleared my throat. “You called for
me, sir?” I asked awkwardly.
Bowed my head.
Stay at attention.
He made a strangled noise and said, “Please, don't do that—just stand
normal.”
My shoulders slouched as I stood normally. “Yes, sir,” I whispered.
He flinched like I'd slapped him.
Silence spread between us, and the temperature in his small office
plummeted. Ice cracked as it trailed up my arms beneath my sweatshirt, toward
my heart.
Lothaire cleared his throat a bunch of times. “Lyla has hinted that there
are—things I don't know about you.”
I harumphed.
Understatement of the year.
I picked at my lips and waited for him to demand answers. I waited for
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him to get aggressive and pry, but he didn't do any of that.

Instead, he started talking.
He told a story about a man with excessive power who'd committed horrible
atrocities in his youth and was owned by the High Court as a result.
He told me about how he'd been forced to conceive me with Mother. How he was
trapped and had no choices.
He said he'd thought I was better off with her.
He said he'd thought I was safe.
He said a lot of things.
Finally, he pointed to his missing eye, then pointed to mine, the one that had a
little more gray in it than the other.
He explained how he'd pulled it out of his eye socket for me, then he'd slashed
his own face.
He was the reason I had two eyes.
The reason I could see.
My shivering intensified, and ice crawled up the outside of my throat.
I was numb all over.
I felt as if I hovered outside my body and watched him talking to me from
to faraway vantage point.
Finally, I have finished his heart-wrenching tale.
We stood in more uncomfortable silence.
I pulled my pipe from my pocket and inhaled enchanted smoke.
The room was freezing, and our breath puffed in frosty clouds between
us.
I realized it was my turn.
Lothaire waited.
Silently.
Calmly.
With unfeeling lips, I began to talk.
I told him about the nightly tortures and the constant beatings, the harsh tutors,
and even harsher guards.
The air was suddenly too thin, and it was hard to breathe.
Between shaky gasps, I told him the things Mother used to say to me. The
things she'd done.
The many nights I lay sprawled across the floor on fire, screaming while I
prayed someone would save me.
How no one had.
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The days I was barely able to endure because I'd been so terrified about
what was to come later. Anticipation eating at my stomach until I was physically
sick.
When I was done speaking, Lothaire's tanned skin was a sickly shade of pale.

He stared at me like he'd never seen me.

Then his face crumpled, and he staggered backward with a wail. His back hit
the wall, and he cradled his head in his hands as he let loose an unholy sound.
Sparks of power popped in the air around him.
He was a broken man.
Shattered.
Thank the sun god I didn't tell him about the slur on my back.
“But it's over now,” I said, my voice hoarse as I inhaled smoke like it could
save me.
He dropped his hands and stared at me, an unfamiliar expression on his
face. “How can you say that to me? How are you standing here?” I have inhaled
shakily. “How are you functioning—I've failed you.”
I tried to smile sheepishly, but my face muscles weren't working.
I shrugged.
“Describe functioning?” I asked with a weak chuckle, then sucked in
enchanted smoke until my lungs burned.
The joke fell flat.
Awkward.
He stood up straight abruptly and searched through his desk until he
pulled out an RJE device.
I waited for him to explain, but he said nothing.
Instead, he walked forward until we stood about an arm's distance apart.
“Can I—hug you?” he asked softly.
I grimaced. “Sure?”
The towering vampire enveloped me in a tight hug. Tentatively, I brought my
arm up and patted his freakishly muscled back.
“It means nothing,” he whispered, “but I'm so sorry. “I thought because of my
agreement with the High Court that you'd be protected—I thought you'd be safe.”

He squeezed me tighter.
“Well, I'm alive,” I whispered. “I'm fine now.” The lie tasted sour on my tongue.
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“After the war—we'll talk more,” Lothaire said. “For now, you need to
concentrate.”
The war.
Queasiness returned at the reminder of what we were heading into.
He must have felt me stiffen, because he pulled back and patted the top of my
head thoroughly.
His tone was serious as he said, “One thing you'll never be weak.
You're more capable than you give yourself credit for. The war will be easy for you
—it's the weaker soldiers who should be afraid. “Not you—not my daughter.”

I won.
He doesn't know I can't fly or wield an ice sword. I have leveled cities, but I
can't even control a little ice.
Lothaire shook his head like he could read my mind as he reached forward
and squeezed my shoulders. “I promise, you are more powerful than you can even
imagine. Remember, I've tasted your blood when I tested you for Elite Academy—
I know these things.”
I shrugged with embarrassment.
Parents were supposed to tell their children lies to make them feel better.
It was my first time experiencing it, and it was strange.
“Okay,” I said as I rubbed the back of my neck and stared down at the ice-
covered floor.
Lothaire tipped my chin up and bared his canines as he grinned. “Don't fret,
war can be fun.”
There it was.
For a second, I'd forgotten he was certifiable.
“For sure,” I said sarcastically as I rubbed at my face.
He ruffled my blue curls and spun the RJE device in his hand. “I heard through
the academy grapevine that Ghost wanted to say goodbye to you.”
I have frowned. “I have no idea why that sadistic poltergeist librarian would want to
—”
I cut him off and clutched at my heart. “Aw, how sweet of him.”
It was Lothaire's turn to look at me like I was crazy.
I shrugged as I smoked. “We have a bond.”
“You know he's murdered thousands of people, right?” I asked with confusion.
“And he tortures students for fun?”
I rolled my eyes. “He's chill. “It's not that serious.”
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Lothaire muttered something about daughters under his breath, then leaned
forward and pulled me into another hug.
Finally, I've backed away. “I need to give something to Corvus. Don't take too
long saying goodbye. “We leave soon for the war camp.”
I exhaled heavily. "Yo lo se."
A few minutes later, I sat in the library with my pipe held out while Ghost, the
unfriendly poltergeist and inspirational figure in my life, sucked into the enchanted
smoke. Orion stared at me with wide, unblinking eyes.
The stained-glass windows of Elite Academy glimmered as they filtered dark
blood-soaked light, and the air was rich with the musty scent of books.
Students sat at tables studying, and lightning cracked in the halls.
There was a loud cough at one of the tables in the back.
Ghost tipped an invisible hat to me, then he floated away to put the criminal into
a coma for violating the sanctity of the library.
I looked after his retreating figure thoroughly.
I'd miss him.
I curled my fingers around my pipe as trepidation mingled with anxiety.
It wasn't until we were leaving the library that I realized I'd forgotten to ask
Lothaire what he had to give to Corvus.
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Chapter 2
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Aran
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DARK REVELATIONS

LUGUBRIOUS (ADJECTIVE): dismal.

“On the Creature Classification Scale—a one-to-five ranking system, with five
being the danger level of certain gods—the ungodly are ranked a four,”
Dick said harshly, his expression bleak.
My ears echoed with the phantom screams of the dying and ripping flesh,
and I shuddered.
What kind of monster would a five look like?
I couldn't even imagine it.
In the chair in front of me, Jinx shivered and slumped lower in her seat like
she was also horrified. I smirked smugly because something had finally scared
the haughty know-it-all.
You're smiling because a child is terrified. Nice one, Aran.
I grimaced.
It was hard growing up to be the villain, but here I was, sitting in a room,
getting lectured about war while I fantasized about making a youth miserable.
Life comes at you fast.
We'd relocated to Planet 003FX—the realm infested with ungodly—and
were in the newly constructed strategy room, getting lectured at by the High
Court, aka Dick.
As Dick spoke, a figure in a black cloak with glowing blue eyes stood in
the corner with their features obscured. From the person's towering height and
width, they were a man.
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I knew him well.

It was the same cloaked figure who'd taken Sadie to the war camp in the shifter
realm. The same person who'd helped me escape the fae realm. The last time we'd
seen him was at the ball in the beast realm.
Now he watched us silently, cloaked in shadows and darkness.
Another sycophant of the High Court lording over soldiers in the isolated valley
of a war camp.
I ran my tongue across my teeth and tasted the power that stained the air.
Goose bumps erupted down the back of my neck.
We were the champions of absent gods. Pawns for slaughter or icons of victory?
Only time would tell.
Jinx and the demons were in the front row.
Twins to my right.
Sadie and her men to my left.
Devils in the back row. Orion leaned his head against Malum's shoulder, and
the leader of the kings played with his blonde hair with one hand and had his other
hand draped over Scorpius's shoulder protectively.
A strange feeling flipped over in my stomach because they were
obviously perfect together.
I didn't fit in with them.
It was a cruel joke that I was their Revered.
I summarized studying my surroundings. Concrete walls glowed blue with the
remnants of construction enchantments, and the space stank of frost, dirt, and leaves.

There were no windows.

A small orb in the corner was the only source of light.
Oversize wingback chairs faced the chalkboard, and a long table with an
enchanted tablet built into its surface spanned the front of the room. Shelves lined
the walls, filled with binders overflowing with information on the ungodly, the realm,
and war strategies.
Binders were opened on our laps.
Dick stood unnaturally still in front of the chalkboard as he lectured.
I slumped low in my leather chair.
This was our twenty-something-eth strategy meeting in the past week, and I was
tired of being talked at; any adrenaline from surviving the Legionnaire Games had
dissipated, and my attention span was ten minutes.
Max.
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Dick's lips were moving, but I only heard every third word.
He flashed a tray of gas canisters, put them in a drawer, then ranted about
not using anything in the drawers because you would face criminal
consequences.
He went on and on about prohibited weapons.
If they were prohibited, then why would they have them on hand? que
idiot would actually pay attention to this deranged presentation?
I picked at the leather cushion beneath my thigh and concentrated on
mimicking a rock: hear nothing, see nothing, sit still all day, and sometimes fall
over and crush people to death.
Goals.
Next to me, John raised his eyebrows, dark eyes questioning, and I sank
lower with boredom. He agreed in understanding as he absent-mindedly played
with one of my curls.
Beside him, Luka leaned forward and looked back and forth between the
two of us with his brow furrowed. His fingers were wrapped around John's wrist
in a vise.
I'd noticed lately that the three of us were always connected.
One twin looked down at me with intense dark eyes, while the other
flashed dimples, and a tendril of warmth flowered in my stomach.
Pain streaked down my spine.
I won.
John wrapped my curl tighter around his finger, and Luka's olive knuckles
turned white as he gripped his twin fiercely.
I sank back with a sigh.
On my other side, Sadie was sleeping in a seated position with her eyes
wide open. Equal parts envious and creeped out, I poked at her side.
She slowly turned her head in my direction—red eyes wide and unseeing
as she stared at me for a long minute—then she slowly turned her head back
forward.
I made a mental note to unfriend her immediately.
“Don't you dare wake her up,” Cobra mouthed next to her.
I rolled my eyes.
Blah, blah, blah. I'd rather be at Elite Academy, drowning in the black sea,
than sit through another of Dick's sanctimonious explanations on battle strategy.

But here I was.

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Time plodded forward.

When I was three seconds away from a self-induced coma, Dick said, “Please
close your binders.”
Thank you sun god.
I unrolled my hunched spine and patted the already closed binder on my lap. I
hadn't bothered to flip through the summarized list of policies and strategies,
because I'd memorized it the first time he'd covered it:

Don't eat any food from Planet 003FX.

Don't make loud noises.
The objective is to eliminate the ungodly quietly and efficiently
before they realize they are under attack.
The civilization indigenous to Planet 003FX is unknown because of the
treacherous nature of the realm's terrain. Their new name: the
infected.
Recent intelligence indicates the civilization is composed of remote city-
states called compounds that are located in mountainous valleys.
The planet has a twenty-four-hour day and night cycle, like most
realms with life.
Experts theorize it will take days for information to spread among the
settlements. Since not all the portals in the realm have been
located, the ungodly must be eliminated before they can flee.
Only wear your standard-issue battle gear. It is camouflage to the
terrain.
Keep your hair pulled back from your face.
No smoking, drugs, or alcohol use during the war.
Always keep track of your weapons.
Use your weapons, holsters, and straps.
Enchanted bullets do not work against the ungodly. Rely on other
weapons.
Treat other soldiers with courtesy.
Study the ranking officer chart and always listen to your
commanders.
Leadership chart in descending rank: champions, generals, spies,
assassins, foot soldiers.
Champions and generals have access to the strategy room for
planning and will give the rest of the war camp their assignments.
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The champions have the ultimate say.

The current theory is the ungodly infect their prey by forcing them to
swallow their eggs. Do not swallow any eggs. It is theorized the
warm temperature of the planet has allowed them to infect and
spread at an abnormal rate.

I'd crossed out the drug policy because I didn't follow bad laws.
My new life motto: stand for something or fall for everything. Yes, I was
standing for drug use.
Someone had to.
And the next person who reminded me not to eat food from the realm was
getting stabbed in the throat. I was tempted to eat a leaf off a tree just for fun,
bonus points if it killed me.
Also, whoever had written the last bullet point deserved to be institutionalized.

Who the fuck would voluntarily eat the eggs of a parasitic monster with
pincers?
Controversial take—that person deserved to be infected.
“Write what I'm about to say down.” Dick pointed to the pens attached to our
binders.
I unclicked the pen and doodled a dying stick figure shooting a rifle at
another dying stick figure.
Art imitated life.
Dick frowned. “This information is crucial.”
Apparently, he was incapable of getting to the freaking point.
Sadie snorted softly.
Dick's posture was rigid as he said, “You're probably wondering why we've
had so many meetings.”
“No one cares!” I shouted and made an obscene hand gesture…in my head.

“Your role”—Dick's ruddy complexion flushed as he glared at each of us

—“it is more important than you know.”
Not one blinked.
Where Lothaire would yell and smack a baton, Dick spoke with zero
inflection, which was somehow ten times more terrifying.
There was a strange intensity around the High Court leader that no one, not
even the kings, dared to challenge. With his wings retracted, I'd never
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have guessed that Dick was an angel. He didn't have the poise and aura of
arrogance they all seemed to possess.
He looked too ordinary.
Although…I'd never thought I was an angel, and now I was one that couldn't
fly.
Current life plan: throw myself off a cliff as soon as possible.
If I flew, I flew.
If I didn't—slay (in the slaughter sense).
Dick lowered his head and said, “What I'm about to say will change
everything you thought you knew about this war.”
I have syphilis.
I barely stopped myself from laughing aloud at my joke.
As far as I was concerned, he didn't deserve anyone's respect.
First, he was a man.
Second, he'd taken me from the fae realm as a child and beat Sadie into
her powers as he masqueraded as a beta shifter. He'd stood beside me in a
gladiator arena when I'd consumed my mother's beating heart. He'd spread
angel wings wide in the beast realm and represented the gods in the Legionnaire
Games.
Dick was always there when our lives hit rock bottom.
His nostrils flared as he enunciated each syllable. “The reason we've been
reading you continuously—”
I have paused.
I drew another dead stick figure on my palm.
“—the Official Peace Accords, otherwise known as the OPA, doesn't just
ban the involvement of gods in war as you've been told.”
Déjà vu skittered down my scarred spine.
A lifetime ago, I'd learned about the OPA in the fae palace, but the memory
was sand, and it dripped through my fingers.
Dick's eyes flashed. “The OPA also bans the involvement of the High
Court in any battles or strategy.”
I drew another dead figure.
So we were alone? Nice.
Dick inhaled deeply. “The OPA also bans the realms within the High Court
from establishing an independent militia of greater than one hundred soldiers.”

The room was dead silent.

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There would be no sprawling army fighting against the ungodly, just one
hundred people versus a planet of parasitic monsters.
We were doomed.
Dick seemed to grow taller as he said, “The OPA were enacted as an
ignorant reaction to the last major war.” He flung his arms wide, and the
movement was startlingly violent compared to his usual stillness. “Just because
there were some—unexpected casualties in the previous war led by the High
Court, everyone panicked. Cowards.”
Que?
I couldn't breathe.
One hundred.
I honored those who'd panicked in the past by panicking in the present.
Dick's face flushed and twisted with disgust as he continued, “The High
Court needed a escapegoat in the last war, so they blamed the god who saved
them and the soldiers who died for them. They enacted the OPA as a cowardly
way to restore faith in governance and absolve themselves of guilt in future
wars. The High Court and gods bound themselves with enchantments that
cannot be broken.”
Only one hundred soldiers, repeated in my head.
“Now the time has come for that future war, and you must pay the
consequences of past failures.” He didn't sound apologetic. “We kept this from
you, so you would focus on our lessons and not panic about the task ahead.”

What a great plan—save the upsetting information for three seconds

before a war starts.
Why was he looking at me?
Why was he pointing at me?
Click. I stabbed the pen into my hand and made a hole in the forehead of
the stick figure.
He said, “We have given you every tool we can help you, but victory is up
to you—study everything you've learned over the next week and prepare to
adapt.” He agreed. “The angel scouting party is identifying the location of the
first settlement. When it is time for battle, you will be notified—good luck.”

He stalked out of the room, and the cloaked man followed.

The door slammed shut behind them.
Fugue was too mild a word to describe what came next.
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Paranoia devoured me.

John threw his arm around my shoulder, and Sadie sleepily leaned against
my side as we left the strategy room. The kings followed behind me like
unwanted shadows or looming specters of death.
Physically, I went with the group to the cafeteria, but mentally, I disappeared.

I'd learned about the peace accords before, and it was imperative that I
remembered. So I threw myself into the dark recesses of memory.
I dove into my mind.
We left the cafeteria.
Time warped.
I blinked.
I sat on the floor of our tiny new shower, arms wrapped around my legs as
the frigid water kept me focused on my task.
Someone banged on the bathroom door and told me to hurry up.
I didn't respond.
On the outside, icy drops pelted skin.
Inside my mind's eye, I reconstructed the fae library stacks spine by
spine, and I rebuilt the towering mental shelves I'd once lived within.
It was painstaking work.
The first lesson a fae tutor had ever taught me was how to create a
memory palace. Knowledge was useless if it had nowhere to go.
Step one: meditate.
As a child, I'd spent days, months, and years mentally building a library
that mirrored the one on the top floor of the palace.
Step two: memorize.
Every day, my tutors would ask me about the contents of random pages in
books I'd read. If I couldn't remember, I'd read the book again and mentally
resolve it.
The one time I still couldn't remember, my tutor had hit me. Hard.
I hadn't cowered like a princess was supposed to; Instead, I'd hit him back
harder.
He'd beaten me bloody and dragged me to Mother, who'd gladly lit me on
fire for hours.
I'd never forgotten a book since.
When I'd turned ten, recalling was no longer sufficient for my tutors, and
they'd demanded I start applying what I'd read to hypothetical situations.
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There was a reason I could expertly give a detailed examination of the

elements of a problem.
It wasn't nature.
It was nurture.
Brutal. Fucking. Nurture.
With me being tortured at night by cold flames, pushed to mental limits
During the day by emotionless tutors, my childhood had been horrific.
But the lessons were effective.
Now, as an adult, inch by painstaking inch, I meditated and rebuilt my old
memory palace under the spray of a cramped shower.
Time warped.
I blinked back into the present.
Luka cut up fruit and gave it to his twin as the kings glared at me in the dining
hall. We were having another meal.
John hand-fed me fruit.
I tried to smile at him in thanks, but I was too deep in my mental library.
For some reason, the section I'd read at fourteen years old was blurry, the
spines and words much fuzzier than the rest of the mind palace.
“Something is wrong with her,” Malum snarled. “We need to bring her to the
medical room.”
Luka moved in front of me protectively but didn't respond.
John said, “She said she's fine and that she just needs to think. Just let her
“do what she needs to do.”
“She's not fine, she's fucking catatonic,” Scorpius exploded. “She's barely
breathing.”
“Leave her alone,” John said harshly and shielded me with his body.
I blinked.
Time warped yet again.
I was lying on top of the covers in a narrow bunk bed that was cramped to
discourage fraternization between soldiers. A distant part of me recognized that I
was back in our new room, and it was night.
Mentally, I grabbed books off shelves and opened their cover pages.
I'd gone through thousands of books.
I opened The History of Rare Fae Beasts.
I closed it.
I opened How to Grow Plants.
I closed it.
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I opened The Enactment of the Official Peace Accords.

I close—
Finally, I found what I'd been looking for. I flung open the book and devoured
its contents. It read,

Thousands of years ago, an endless army of human soldiers set out to

conquer the realms. In response to the invasion, the High Court mandated
all able-bodied men and women eighteen years and older to fight and
defend their respective realms.
Millions were conscripted and fought in battles that spread across
the realms.
The human soldiers had the strategic advantage.
Towering catapults flung flaming boulders across the horizon, and
long pointed poles and skewered swords, as the armor-clad humans shot
flaming arrows off the backs of powerful horses.
In contrast, the realms of the High Court had never developed
weapons, because individual powers had always been sufficient in
eliminating invaders.
It was a serious miscalculation.
The armies of the High Court were slaughtered.
When it seemed like complete annihilation was inevitable, the sun
god took matters into his own hands.
Midbattle all the realms' suns unexpectedly burned fifty degrees hotter.

The god of light boiled the lands.

All the people, plants, and animals were decimated, and anything that
didn't have a natural resistance to high temperatures died within a few
hours of intense heat exposure.
The humans tried to flee back to their realm, but most dropped
dead from dehydration as they ran for safety.
The sun god followed a few humans back to earth in order to identify
the location of portals. Guards were subsequently stationed, and by all
accounts, the human species have never tried to set foot in another realm
since the war.
Smugglers who have illegally traveled through these portals tell tales
of the sun god punishing the earth realm with extreme heat. They claim
humans live in perpetual fear of annihilation. None of these
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reports have been substantiated.

After the High Court won the war against the humans, there was a
consensus in the realms that the price of victory was too high.
Populations were decimated, and even after the sun god returned
the realms' temperatures to normal, devastating climate effects persisted.

The shifter realm plunged into a never-ending ice age as hundreds

of glaciers melted and poured cold water into the warm ocean currents.
In ten days, the planet froze over.
The sun god made a public apology to the realm and offered to
increase the temperature, but students from the historic University of
Enchantments calculated the planet would become uninhabitable if there
was another warming.
The High Court declined to comment.
The shifter realm has not since recovered.
In the fae realm, seasons disappeared and were replaced with an
endless summer. The monarchy became isolationists and banned
advanced weapons development.
The moderate climate of the beast realm also disappeared, and the
land has since been plagued with perpetual rain. Unlike the fae, the
leaders invested heavily in the production of expensive weapons, and a
few centuries later, they created the first enchanted guns.
A powerful realm was also divided into two; one side of the planet
iced over like the shifter realm, while the other burned with perpetual fire.

For unknown reasons, the humans never invaded, and the Olympus
realm was left unscathed. The few humans who survived the warming,
but did not make it back to the human realm, were as prisoners of war
to the underworld taken, Olympus's maximum-security prison.

Planetary climate effects aside, at the end of the war, there were no
armies to congratulate, because only a hundred of the strongest soldiers
from all the realms survived the battlefield. Soldiers were either
slaughtered by human weapons or succumbed to severe temperatures.

The Official Peace Accords, the OPA, were passed unanimously by

all realms and executed with enchanted bindings. The peace
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accords were signed by the High Court and the sun god, and the mostly
uninvolved moon goddess, in order to prevent future atrocities.

Narrow understanding expanded into a wide frame as context colored

everything in shades of black and gray. The lack of human presence in the
realms wasn't because they were primitive and weak like everyone was taught.

A sinister false remembrance.

I stopped clinging to the spatial illusion, and books tumbled off shelves.
Hundreds of stacks fell over as my mind palace crumbled into nothingness.
SNAP.
Consciousness returned.
Pain stabbed across my skull like a hot poker, and I sat up and heaved.
Luka's arm was hanging over the side of his bunk, and I was gripping his
hand.
My head throbbed.
My gasps were loud in the quiet room as the rest of the legion slept in their
bunks.
I started to shake.
How had I forgotten such terrifying information about the sun god? It hadn't
been Jinx, because she'd said the memories she'd taken were unrecoverable.

Why were my memories from fourteen so shrouded in fog?

My bunk trembled from the force of my convulsions, and Luka's thumb
stroked against the back of my hand like he was soothing me in his sleep.
I pressed my quivering left palm into my eyes, then grabbed the diamond of
death that hung heavy against my chest. It felt warm against my frozen fingers
and vibrated at my touch.
I dropped it, and it went still.
Sweat dripped off my forehead and streaked down my sides, then stopped
its trail as it froze to my skin.
Frost covered the bedsheet beneath me.
I felt sick.
After the Legionnaire Games, Lyla had spread her arms wide and said,
“Every few millennia, a red giant explodes in the galaxy. It collapses in a solar
system that contains a portal connecting it to realms within the jurisdiction of the
High Court.”
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My vision blurred.
History was repeating itself.
The last invasion had nearly destroyed us all, and now it was the
ungodly's turn, but there would be no sprawling army at our backs.
There would be no gods to save us.
We were sacrifices, fodder for slaughter, collateral.
I squeezed Luka's callused hand until my fingers turned white.
Then I closed my eyes.
I didn't want to be awake anymore.
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Chapter 3
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Luke
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CODEPENDENCY

AMORIST (NOUN): a person who is in love.

Aran wasn't speaking.

I didn't like it.
I was the one who stayed quiet, and she was the one who hung off John's
shoulders while cracking inappropriate, morbid jokes.
My twin had his arm slung over his shoulder, but they weren't leaning
against each other like usual.
No.
Crystal-blue eyes were wide and unseeing as John dragged Aran through
the trees.
Lilac sunlight and emerald from the valley forest reflected across the
shimmering clouds. The new realm was colorful, and the weather seemed
mostly mild.
The sun warmed the snow, and it melted immediately.
In contrast, the air around Aran was chilled like she was radiating frost. It
was noticeably colder than the rest of the realm.
I was concerned.
She'd said she needed to think, but she was practically catatonic as John
pulled her down the dirt path connecting the twenty freestanding concrete
structures that made up the war camp.
The base was built in the valley surrounded by towering mountains
and low-ceilinged buildings were camouflaged by trees and snow.
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The new realm was a strange amalgamation of different elements.

It reminded me of a chimera, the beast was a mind-bending hybrid of a
goat, lion, and a dragon. When you saw one in person, you were struck with
one thought: this shouldn't exist. The realm was the same way.
Snowflakes fell, sizzled as they touched the warm ground, and evaporated
into a low layer of steam.
Above, the lavender sky sparkled.
I barely noticed.
We hadn't eaten for hours, but I wasn't hungry as our two legions walked
side by side to the cafeteria.
Sadie pulled back to walk beside her men, and all my attention was focused
on where turquoise hair was supported by olive skin.
Back in the strategy room, Aran had shut down and John's eyes had
crinkled when Dick announced there would only be a hundred soldiers fighting.

I wasn't worried.
Unlike my more socially aware twin, I didn't care about the events that
unfolded around me.
I couldn't even pretend to give a shit.
All my energy was captured by the two people walking in front of me,
and my skin crawled with worry that they were mentally struggling.
It had always been that way for me. My codependency issues were so
strong that they manifested into physical pain.
John stumbled, and I lunged forward to steady him. Aran's lips curled up
into a small smile as he exhaled with gratitude.
Pine trees swayed on Planet 003FX as I held on to Aran and John,
gripping my twin's hand tightly.
Wide shoulders radiated strength as my brother looked down protectively at
Aran leaning against us, blue curls wild.
She was ours to shield.
My discomfort abated slightly, but it didn't disappear.
It never would.
Years ago, an oracle had confirmed it.
I clutched my twin's hand while the oracle of Delphi danced around us.
She spread her arms wide, brown hair flowing to her toes, as she inhaled the
fumes of the ancients.
“You are crippled with codependency,” the oracle sang as she twirled
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mindlessly. Misty eyes widened, and her lips pulled into a smile. “The lost
princes have returned to the king, but they are no longer whole. Neither is the
other. They will suffer unbelievable agony on behalf of the other, and all of them
will be partial together.”
The oracle cackled madly, and John trembled with fear. I stood in front of
him, spread my short limbs wide as I prepared to do anything to protect him.
In the present, I smiled down at my wide-shouldered reflection as we walked
among the trees.
Snow dusted John's cheeks.
He might have grown into a formidable man with whipcord strength and a
mischievous glint in his eyes, but he'd always be my younger twin. The boy I
needed to protect.
The compulsion that lived within my skin ensured it.
Trauma had changed me.
Twisted me into something unrecognizable to others.
As we had grown up in the human realm, the foster parents had beaten both
of us regularly, but John had had it worse because he'd had less control of his
darkness.
One day, he accidentally dropped a glass, and it shattered on the linoleum
kitchen floor. I tried to pick up the pieces, but it was too late. The foster father
lunged toward John, and darkness flooded from his pores defensively.
He collected, called him a demon, demanded an exorcism, and shouted
about a false god.
It all happened so quickly.
Everything blurred as a baseball bat broke our bones, and we were shoved
into a car and brought to a cliff.
I gaped in stunned horror as he threw John over the edge.
I went into shock, and darkness exploded from me in a wave. The foster
man disappeared, but I was too late.
Stumbling out of the car, I sobbed on my knees as devastation flatlined my
existence.
I threw myself forward off the cliff to join John.
Lothaire materialized, grabbed me, and in one motion, jumped off the cliff
and landed beside my injured twin. Before I could process what was happening,
we RJE'd to another realm.
Lothaire told me the energy I'd emitted was so high that he'd been sent by
the High Court to recruit me.
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I ignored him and focused on John.

It took three weeks in a witch-induced coma for John to come back to me.
During that time, I didn't care that vampyres existed and there were multiple
worlds. I didn't care that Lothaire recognized our darkness and knew who our
biological parents were.
None of it matters.
I had sworn on my life that I would never fail John again.
The past blended with the present.
“Give us the prophecy, oracle,” the king demanded harshly. “Stop speaking
in riddles. “You're scaring them, and they've been through enough.”
I gripped John's hand with so much force my fingers cramped.
In the present, we arrived at a building hidden by snowy trees.
“Cafeteria” was written above the green door.
John tried to pull away to open the door, and my throat closed with panic.
Itchiness exploded across my skin, so I tightened my hold on him and Aran.
He stopped reaching as he recognized what was wrong.
I couldn't stand to part from him.
Not after we'd been separated for so long.
Never again.
I breathed shallowly.
“Of course, my King, let me be clear.” The oracle giggled and swirled her
hands in the air. “I speak through the mouth of the stars as I proclaim this fate.”
I shoved John further behind me, heart pounding with fear as I protected him
with my scrawny frame.
The three of us sat down together at the table as food was passed out by
workers.
I slid my chair closer to John, and I slid his closer to Aran. We sat pressed
against one another.
Breathing deeply, I searched for calm.
Voices spoke around me, but I didn't hear a word they said, because I
didn't care about them.
I didn't make friends.
I ignored everyone.
I didn't talk or interact.
No one existed but John—and now Aran. Two people were the center of
my world.
They were my world.
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The fateful day on the cliff had solidified my attachment to my twin into
something that defined my being.
Codependency consumed every moment of my life.
It was me.
We were two halves of a whole, and even though John could put on a mask
and socialize, he suffered from the same dependency.
Memories swirled around me.
The past was alive, and it reached me.
The king had never revealed to the realm that the lost princes had been
found, because you couldn't lead a powerful realm if you refused to acknowledge
that anyone else but your brother existed.
You couldn't play the political game of survival if everyone else was already
dead to you. So the lost princes had stayed lost; we'd been nothing more than
rescued humans living in a foreign realm.
We'd liked it best that way.
But over time, the king had grown disappointed because he thought I'd grow
out of my problems. He'd thought John would help me change into someone
different.
My twin loved me the way I was.
As a result, when Lothaire returned years later to take us to Elite Academy,
the king made a horrible decision: he blackmailed Lothaire with secret information
in exchange for keeping our identity a secret. Worst of all, I have convinced
Lothaire to let only one of us attend Elite Academy at a time.
The king claimed it was because he needed our abilities to run the realm.
I have lied; it was a desperate bid to fix our crippling dependency problem.
The king pulled us aside and promised we could be reunited if we could
prove we'd both formed a relationship with someone else.
What proceeded were the worst years of my life training at Elite Academy.

They thought I was John, and I never bothered to correct them because they
didn't exist to me. Not in any way that mattered. I let my twin do the socializing
for both of us; it wasn't for me.
In the beginning of my time at Elite Academy, I was alone in a sea of faces.

Desolate.
Unmoored.
Until a blue-haired boy with haunted eyes and a mouth dripping in
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sarcasm draped his arm across my shoulders and called me John.

I tried to ignore Aran, but it was impossible.
For some confounding reason, I wanted to help the pretty boy floundering
to stay alive in the dark sea. My heart pounded wildly in my chest as a pipe was
pressed against my lips and a joke whispered in my ear.
Aran refused to leave my side.
And for the first time in my life, I latched onto someone that wasn't John.
I saw someone else.
The twin who refused to interact with anyone besides his brother was cured.

Months later, the king wept with relief and rejoiced with his family when we
asked for Aran's hand in marriage. Everything he'd ever wanted had come to
fruition.
But when all three of us had been reunited, I'd immediately realized the
king's plan hadn't worked at all.
I was no longer codependent with one person.
I was codependent with two.
It was like the oracle had prophesied that fateful day in the cave.
Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she spread her arms wide, the
prophecy exploding from her lips. “The master number surrounds the lost
princes. The strongest of them all; two will become three. Multiples of three are
golden, you see. The broken soul leads them down a twisted path of darkness,
but they will remain the three of three. Eternally.”
I didn't need to smoke the blessed fumes at Delphi to confirm that Aran
was the third from the prophecy.
I knew it in my soul.
Now, beside me in the cafeteria, Aran leaned her head on her hands and
stared off into space as I cut up fruit into bite-sized pieces and gave them to my
twin.
John didn't have to ask what they were for, because we were on the same
wavelength; the Greek letter lambda was tattooed on my back for a reason.
He hand-fed her bites of food.
Together we took care of her.
Across the table, the devils said something, but I didn't register their
words; my attention was wholly focused on Aran.
My skin crawled with the need to feed her.
For the entirety of my life, when my twin suffered, I suffered.
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Now when Aran suffered, I suffered.

It was how I operated.
After the cave, the king was unhappy with the oracle's prophecy. He raged
to the other kings and queens about how unfair it was because we'd already
known darkness. The kings and queens shook their heads as they muttered
about the poor Princes of Darkness.
We agreed back sullenly.
That night John and I giggled with excitement in our shared bed because
we knew what three meant. It wouldn't just be the two of us for our entire lives.
We'd find someone else to love.
John caught my eye as Aran delicately ate the fruit he handed her, and he
smirked.
Leaning over the table, I put my arm around his shoulders and tangled my
fingers in curly turquoise hair as I made sure they both tied.
My stomach grumbled, but I didn't care.
I pushed more food onto John's plate, and he smiled.
His dimples were my home.
We clasped our hands together under the covers, and John's dimples were
stark on his cheeks as he laughed. I rolled onto my back and clutched my
stomach as I joined him.
I watched Aran and John eat with rapt attention. The two of them would
never be parted from me—if they were, I'd be dead.
The next day at breakfast, the king told the two others about how the
oracle was a fraud. He went on and on about how we deserved light in our
future. The queen smirked down at us from her silver throne covered in violets
as intelligence sparkled in her majestic eyes.
I smirked back.
John winked up at the queen and held up his fingers. She tipped her head
back and laughed.
“Three of three. Eternally,” he whispered to the queen as he covered his
smile with his small hand.
The queen laughed because she saw what the king couldn't, and she
beamed down and said, “Lucky boys.”
We agreed in agreement.
The queen was one of the foremost scholars of enchantments in the
realms because she could often see what others couldn't. This time was no
exception.
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Under the table, John smirked as he poked his three fingers gently against
my thigh, and warmth flooded my chest at his gesture.
After the meal, with John's hand wrapped around Aran's, I carried her
down the tree-lined path toward our legion's sleeping quarters. The shifter
legion branched off toward their barracks. The kings walked behind me,
bristling with agitation and growing under their breath.
I barely noticed as I clutched my treasure.
Aran mumbled about lost books and palaces as she cuddled into me while
holding my twin's hand.
Snowflakes dusted turquoise curls as I shielded her from the chilly air with
my chest.
The position was familiar.
Back at Elite Academy, she'd clutched onto my arm for hours in the black
sea, hanging off my shoulders as she quivered from exhaustion. Her arms had
tightened around my neck as I'd hauled her across the rocky shore to safety,
and we'd fallen asleep cuddled together on a broken cot.
In the present, snow kissed her rosy cheeks. Frost clung to her
cheekbones like decoration.
Her breaths came out in dainty puffs of ice, and I stared, enraptured by
the graceful column of her pale neck and the slight ripple of her pulse.
She looked like a dream.
Her existence provided me with a shelter from the world, and just like my
twin, she was home.
When we were finally back in the warmth of our room, I cupped the back
of her curly head protectively and laid her onto her designated bunk bed.
She sighed with relief.
Unlacing her combat boots, I gently tugged them off her feet and pulled
the covers up over her chest.
I brushed a curl off her forehead.
Dark fluttered lashes.
John leaned against me, and I relished his proximity. Together we watched
her. The bonds of brotherhood and love strummed between us like a golden
ray of sunshine on a cloudy day.
Slowly, John kissed his three fingers, then pressed them against Aran's
flushed cheek. He kissed me on my cheek, then climbed up to his top bunk.
I stood frozen.
Emotional.
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Overwhelmed.
Tucking Aran's feet underneath her blankets, I climbed into my bunk above
hers with one arm hanging down toward her like I did every night since we'd
moved into the war camp.
Delicate fingers tangled with mine. Cold and pale contrasted with warm
olive skin.
Even half-asleep, Aran had reached for my hand.
The position was uncomfortable for both of us, but neither of us could sleep
without the other's touch.
I exhaled tension. Compulsion turned into something warm, something new
and precious.
“Sleep well, brother,” John whispered from above. “I'm grateful for every
day that we get to spend together.”
My voice cracked as I responded, “Every day together is a blessing—I will
never leave your sides again.” I'd survived the hellfire of separation, and now
life beside them felt like a dream.
“Eternally,” I murmured.
It didn't matter that we were going to war. Unlike other people, I never got
caught up in circumstances. It was the people closest to you that made up your
life. Period.
Other people never seemed to understand that.
Dainty fingers curled against my palm in agreement.
The narrow bunk above me creaked as John draped both his long arms off
the front of his bed and buried his hands in my hair.
Every night, the three of us slept contorted in awkward positions.
Tethered.
Touch reflected our souls.
As I drifted into oblivion, a smile curled my lips because the queen had
understood a decade ago what the king still could not fathom: you did not fear if
darkness together you were light.
The prophecy was not a bearer of doom; it was a promise of paradise.
The last few years at Elite Academy, I'd suffered true darkness: loneliness.

I'd suffocated in desolation as my skin crawled, alone and unmoored in a

universe filled with people who would never understand. I'd degraded at the
edges until I was nothing.
I'd been no one.
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Now the ones I loved pressed their warm fingertips against my flesh, and
our blood pounded in tandem through corporeal forms.
We were connected.
Forever.
I was never letting them go.
The betrothal jewelry hanging around Aran's neck and wrist was a testament
to that promise. The pieces were priceless, imbued with rare enchantments
that sensed a person's soul and connected them with the givers of the jewelry.

Until we held a marriage ceremony and said the official bonding words, the
enchantment was mostly inert. All the jewelry would do was familiarize itself
with Aran's soul.
At least, that was what the queen had told us.
The enchantment was an ancient one that was only used by the leaders of
our culture, and even then, the last time it had been used was thousands of
years ago when the queen had gotten married.
Aran was worthy.
Even though it was mostly dormant until the ceremony, it was still symbolic
of the promises we'd made for one another, and that meant something.

One day, we'd complete the bonding, and the enchantment would tie our
souls together.
Until then, all I could do was hold on to Aran.
My soul was already hers.
As I rested, a tear of pain streaked down my cheek because the High Court
had scheduled her and the kings to have therapy in the shifter realm, which
meant we would be parted.
It would be pure torture.
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Chapter 4
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Aran
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THERAPY

FERINE (ADJECTIVE): feral

Tick. Infinity. Tock.

The hands on the clock moved unnaturally slowly as flaps of yellow
wallpaper peeled off the office wall like tears.
Voices warbled in the background.
The foreground was nebulous.
It had been that way ever since we'd learned the truth about the war against
the ungodly.
Sweat dripped down my rib cage as the air conditioner spewed cold air
onto the top of my head. Rain battered against the cramped office's single
window.
My teeth chattered.
Outside, the climate was dreamy; inside, the climate was lachrymose.
The sky was bloated with water, and the room was overflowing with regret,
shame, anger, and every other unsavory emotion that no one wanted to talk
about.
Feelings that destroyed.
We sat in morbid silence.
A reprieve from the war—lately words were our guns and lies our enchanted
bullets.
“Aran, are you paying attention to me?” Dr. Palmer snapped his fingers in
front of my face. Unfortunately, one person hadn't gotten the “sit quietly.”
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and mope” memo.

I blinked.
She snapped her fingers again.
"No." My voice cracked, and I wet my lips. “I wasn't listening to you.”
My therapist breathed deeply. “The High Court says these men are your
fated soulmates and you need to cooperate with them for the war effort.
“They've mandated these therapy sessions because you all need to learn how
to work together and unlock the full extent of your powers.”
The only thing I would be unlocking was a muzzle for Malum.
She pointed her pen at the three devils sitting beside me on the threadbare
couch.
The four of us shifted.
“But you said last week that you loved them?” She frowned. “And then
“you refused to elaborate.”
I didn't understand her bewilderment.
My loathing should have been a statement with a period: a form of
punctuation used to end a complete sentence.
For some reason, no one wanted to accept my hatred as final.
The kings.
Dr. Palmer.
The High Court.
Everyone was waiting for me to change my mind.
Ice traveled down my limbs until I was completely numb, sitting still while
simultaneously tumbling deeper into nothingness.
Space buckled.
Tick. Infinity. Tock.
Dr. Palmer pursed her lips. “Aran, could you answer the question?”
I stared back at her blankly. The ice had frozen my eyelids and embalmed
my corneas.
“You hate these men?”
She pointed out again like I needed the reminder that I was sandwiched
beside my enemies in a claustrophobic room meant for two people.
I refused to turn my head because I'd seen enough: freakishly wide
shoulders, long pale fingers, callous demeanors, warm brown eyes, cheeks that
blushed pink as they betrayed me. Three disturbingly handsome faces.
The problem had never been their looks.
“Um—” I broke out into a coughing fit.
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The tension in the room increased tenfold as everyone focused on me. I

would have been embarrassed, but I'd stopped feeling anything meaningful ten
years ago.
I'd stopped feeling anything at all last week in the war camp.
Dick had spoken, and the lies had crumbled.
The truth—ancient peace accords—was a heinous beast.
Now Dr. Palmer handed me a half-filled cup of lukewarm water, and I gulped
it down until I choked.
Liquid spilled onto my shirt.
Orion kicked my back, and I flinched away from his touch. I have made a
soft, wounded sound as he pulled his hand away.
The air conditioning buzzed loudly.
Like wind slammed rain against the side of the building with splatter.
I focused all my attention on choking to death on the water—vexingly, it
didn't work, so I redirected my concentration into slouching my shoulders until I
was concave.
Placing the half-empty water cup by my feet on the once white but now light-
brown carpet, I intended not to notice that Dr. Palmer scowled at it like she knew
I was going to forget to pick it up.
I cleared my throat three times.
Coughed.
Wet my lips.
“Aran, please take all the time you need.” Her mouth said one thing, but
her narrowed eyes and pinched lips said another.
"OK." My voice sounded far away, and it felt like someone else was speaking.

Her right eye twitched. One. Two. Three. Four times.

I rotted on the couch.
“Aran.” Dr. Palmer snapped his fingers twice in rapid succession, and it
sounded like a gunshot.
I sat up with a start.
She pointed her pen at me.
A weapon.
You could puncture someone's corneal artery with a pen. You could
gouge someone's eyes out. You could shank them in the stomach.
“Aran,” Dr. Palmer said harshly.
I blurted, “Yes—I hate my mates. In fact, they disgust me.” I stuck my
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tongue out and pointed my finger at it while I gagged, just in case she wasn't
picking up what I was putting down.
The good (annoying) doctor wrote something down on his clipboard and
affirmed as my eyes grew heavier.
I was barreling into a war blind.
Free-falling.
I tried to sit up straight, but my shoulders slumped.
My back muscles burned with the phantom weight of retracted wings that I
couldn't get to work.
Even back in the Legionnaire Games, I'd never actually flown. I'd just tumbled
toward the dirt and used my wings to slow us down before crashing into a pole.

At least I'm good at throwing myself off high heights. I should be a professional
cliff diver.
Time warped.
“Do your soulmates dislike you and you hate them?” Dr. Palmer spoke slowly
and overenunciated “disgust” and “hate” like she was making a point.
“That's what you said last week. Correct?”
If she was hinting at something, I wasn't getting it.
I nodded and tugged at the permanent scab on my lower lip.
“Stop picking,” Scorpius ordered harshly.
I jumped and pulled my hand away from my face.
A pen scribbled across paper.
Was she writing about me? Rude.
I rolled my eyes, brought my fingers back to my lip, and ripped off a juicy
chunk of skin.
“I told you not to pick,” Scorpius said. “Orion, pull her hand away.”
Anyone else plagued by men? Just me? Nice.
“Touch me,” I said tiredly, “and I'll kill you.” I left off the “I'll kill us”
“all” because of the doctor.
All I needed was to be diagnosed as a serial homicidal maniac.
Was I one? Maybe. Did I want to be heavily medicated and locked in a
room for the rest of my life? Also, maybe. It depended if Sadie was there.
Orion stared down at me.
I stared at the wall.
I wasn't the type of person to play favorites, especially not when it came to
my enemies—but Orion was my favorite, and Malum was my least
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favorite. One hundred percent.

I was grateful the quiet man was a buffer between me and Scorpius and the
two of them blocked my view of Malum.
The kings were seated in order of descending awfulness.
They had their arms draped over one another's shoulders and whispered
among themselves as Dr. Palmer spoke.
The three of them fit together.
Then there was me.
Scorpius leaned forward to glare at me, and Orion's muscular thigh pressed
indecently against mine. We were both wearing sweatpants, but pain streaked
down my back.
I exhaled harshly and managed not to whimper.
It was funny how pain felt sharper in certain situations. Sometimes
adrenaline and depression masked the hurt, and other times they amplified the
agony.
Nothing was masking it now.
I was raw.
Life's a cruel bitch.
“Lean back.” Dr. Palmer glared at Scorpius until he settled back against the
couch with a huff.
“I want to remind you all that these sessions are for your benefits.” She
scowled at each of us. “I'm not the one the High Court forced into therapy—I'm
not the one suffering from bond sickness with the people I have to lead a war
with.” She scoffed, like if it were up to her, she would never have chosen us as
leaders. “But you do.”
Her glare was cutting.
Why hadn't we recruited her for the war effort? She'd make a good general.

As if she read my mind, Dr. Palmer narrowed her eyes.

I could so see her stabbing people.
Scorpius barked out a string of profanities.
Exhaustion.
It pulled me apart.
“You should join the military,” I said, and at the same time, she asked,
“Aran, how do you feel?”
She gave me a withering look. “Don't speak unless spoken to.”
“Yes, General,” I whispered.
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A rain droplet left a trail across the glass.

“So can I speak now to answer, or is there a time limit?” I asked as I
debated how to tell her I felt like I'd been run over by a truck.
“Aran.” She said my name like a curse and took a deep breath. “Moving on,
how do you feel when Scorpius tells you what to do?”
I dug my nail deeper into my lip.
“Do you not like when he orders you around?” She pointedly looked at
the blood dripping down my chin.
I scoffed. “Obviously not.” I tried to wipe the copper taste off my tongue
with the arm of my sweatshirt.
A beating heart throbbing against my tongue. Mother's blood down my
throat.
“The fact that he told you not to pick at your lip—” Dr. Palmer acknowledged
like she was realizing something (she was delusional). “—is making you act
out of spite. Spite is an intense psychological response to a negative valence
such as disappointment or betrayal.”
Rain streaked drearily across the window. Cold air blew on the top of my
head. Orion's thigh pressed against mine.
“Have these men betrayed you?”
Scorpius's chuckle was harsh, as if he wheezed with pain.
I would have joined him, but I didn't laugh with men. I only laughed at them.

A voice in my head laughed at my joke, like a monster that didn't exist, like
the Angel Consciousness that did exist allegedly, like an angel guardian, like
ancient peace accords that left us stranded, fighting a war.
It's fine.
I'm fine.
I understand my brain, I reassured myself.
The paradox of the liar—you couldn't lie if you knew it was false, but if
it was false, then you were a liar. The cycle spiraled into infinity.
I rubbed at my wrist where the heavy diamond bracelet tinged like it was
alive. It pulsed warm, then stopped, and I couldn't decide if I'd imagined it.
My subconscious screamed something to my consciousness, but there
was a dead space inside my brain that I couldn't understand. There was an
emptiness where knowledge fizzled. An abyss.
Perhaps it was hours spent screaming on a palace floor.
Perhaps it was the little sister I'd never had who'd stolen my memories.
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Perhaps it was three men who'd tormented me.

Maybe it was me.
I wanted to slam my skull against the wall.
“Your emotions make sense and are valid, especially if you feel
betrayed,” Dr. Palmer said slowly, like I was an imbecile.
I stared at her deadpan.
“Perhaps you're feeling spiteful because of your own deep sense of hurt based
on their actions?” She agreed. “Have they done anything to make you feel
especially disappointed?”
Black ice scorched my throat, and I needed to wipe the patronizing smirk off
her face.
I blurted out, “Malum set me on fire until my face melted off—and he
“I never apologized for it.”
Dr. Palmer stopped writing and blanched.
Both her eyes twitched. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven times. A new
record.
Three men stiffened beside me.
Dr. Palmer opened and shut her mouth a few times. When she finally spoke,
she overenunciated each word. “You're telling me that your—” She cleared her
throat and checked her clipboard. “—Ignis set you on fire—the mate whose role is
to love and cherish you?”
She showed more emotion now than ever before.
She hadn't even blinked when she'd learned I'd been disguised as a male
because I was the wanted fae princess who'd murdered her mother, but now her
eyes were rounded with horror like she understood why the therapy session was
awkward.
Finally.
Scorpius scoffed loudly. “An Ignis does not just love and cherish his Revered.
That's a provincial and pathetic description. His life's purpose is to worship,
provide, shelter, and obsess over his Revered—it's nothing as menial as love.”

“It's disrespectful to insinuate that I would only love her,” Malum said.
Ever completely missed the point of a conversation?
Dr. Palmer gaped at the kings with disbelief, and his complexion paled.
I smiled.
Everyone knew the point of couple's therapy was to make your therapist like
you more than your partner—I'd won.
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“You want to talk about caring for your Revered, yet you set Aran on
“Fire?” Her voice pitched uncharacteristically loud as she gaped at Malum.
Abruptly, a picture on the wall burst into red flames, and two shifters frolicking
in a field of rolling hills melted into ashes.
Dramatic irony.
Dr. Palmer's voice climbed up another octave. “You're telling me that Aran is
your Revered?” She didn't even glance at the flaming wall. All his attention was
on the leader of the kings. “And it is your life's purpose to care for her?”

Malum grunted in agreement.

“Yet you lit her on fire until her face melted off?”
I've grunted again.
When she put it that way…he sucked.
She wrote furiously on her clipboard and pushed her glasses against the top
of her nose with so much force the wire bent. “Don't you think that is something
you should apologize to her for?”
Orion grimaced and pressed his leg harder against mine. Scorpius muttered
something under his breath. I put my hand into my pockets and lowered my pipe.

Making the leader of the kings apologize was like trying to have a healthy
relationship with a man.
Impossible and upsetting.
Malum gnashed his teeth. “She was disguised as a male at the time. I didn't
know she was my Revered. It was—different.” His voice was harsh and gritty.

The doctor turned his chair toward me. “How do Malum's words make you
feel, Aran?”
I brought my pipe between my lips and inhaled harshly.
For the first time since I'd seen her with Sadie months ago, she didn't
comment on my smoking addiction.
“I feel like I want to light him on fire until his skin melts off,” I said in a
monotone voice.
“Then do it,” Malum snarled, and I was jostled as he leaned forward to glare
at me. “Stop whining about it and light me on fire, and then we'll be even—I don't
understand why you keep fucking bringing this up? Just let me care for you. “We
need to move past this—we have enough to worry about with this fucking war.”
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Steel-gray eyes pinned me to my seat.

Flames cackled, and the awful scent of burning carpet filled the room.
No one moved to put it out.
I leaned forward and glared back. “Exactly. Since we're already doomed,
why should I care about your pathetic bid for forgiveness? Have you ever
thought that maybe I want to hold a grudge?”
“How does holding a grudge make you feel?” Dr. Palmer cut in.
“Wonderful,” I said sarcastically.
Malum's cheeks flushed. “Do whatever you need to do to forgive me—I've
already said you could light me on fire.” Silver eyes softened. “I don't know if it's
possible.” Malum cleared his throat. “But I will try to reject my abilities and let
flames consume me—for you—so you can have your revenge.”

A pen dropped against a clipboard.

I gaped at my arch nemesis, and his cheekbones flushed redder the longer
I stared.
“Okay, we'll try it.” I agreed. “Get me a match and kerosene and I'll do
Item. Right here, right now, since you're asking for it.”
“I have a lighter,” Orion whispered. “But I don't want Corvus to get hurt.”

Scorpius drew sarcastically, “There's no way it would work.” He wrapped

his long fingers around Malum's neck, then leaned over and gave him a kiss on
his cheek. “He's literally made of fire—he'll be fine.”
Malum tried to pull away from Scorpius, but as his mate held him close and
dug his nails into his skin, he gave up struggling.
Molten silver hardened into steel as he looked over at me. “I already fucking
said you could do it.” He spread his arms wide. “I'm waiting.
Between the two of us—I'm not the coward.”
“Give me the lighter.” I nudged Orion.
He hesitantly reached into his pocket.
“Stop!” Dr. Palmer's shrill voice made all four of us wince. “No one—”
She breathed deeply like she was trying to get control of herself. “—is lighting
anyone on fire in this room.”
“So we should do it outside the room?” I asked.
Knuckles whitened against a clipboard, and she stared at the ceiling like
she was having a mental breakdown. Extremely relatable.
A timer went off.
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With a fluid movement, she sat up straight and smiled at us. Her voice
was honey sweet as she said, “Your hour session is over. Please leave.”
I stood and stuck out my hand for her to shake.
“Get out of my office.” She held her clipboard tight to her chest.
I let my hand drop and acknowledged as I took a long drag from my pipe.
“You're truly a goddess at your craft. Great stuff—I really liked how you just
repeated the same phrases.”
"Out!" she snapped.
“I'll let you know how lighting him on fire works.” I yawned.
“I didn't suggest that.” Her pen snapped. “As an accredited professional, I'm
informing all of you right now that I will report you to the relevant authorities if
any of you light each other—or anyone else—on fire.”
The smoldering picture frame fell off the wall.
We all knew there were no authorities that would punish the champions of
the gods. We were the appointed authorities. More proof that lunatics ran the
realms.
Who looked at Malum and thought, “That man seems stable. Let's give him
insane powers and put him in charge?” I'd like to speak to that person's
manager…and shank them.
The kings stood up and embraced one another.
Then they turned, and all three of them crowded my space.
I looked down and noticed the water left in my cup had frozen into solid ice.
Peculiar.
Shadows and muscles widened around me.
I pulled the RJE device with “therapy” engraved on its surface out of my
pocket and grabbed Orion's wrist. Scorpius and Malum wrapped their fingers
around my forearm.
They could have just grabbed Orion, but in the last three weeks, they
pointedly touched me every time we RJE'd.
As if the split second of contact meant something to them.
They were trying to show they chose me.
Like it wasn't too late.
It was.
Fat droplets streaked drearily across the window, and I said cheerily, “I'll
keep you updated.” I pressed the glowing device.
Dr. Palmer shook his head frankly. “Please, don't.”
“I will,” I whispered as I blinked and the therapist's office disappeared.
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Crack.
The air stank of wet dirt, regret, and secrets.
Location: the war camp.
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Chapter 5
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Aran
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THE WAR CAMP

BRUME (NOUN): mist, fog.

I knelt on warm dirt as steam evaporated onto my face.

Pine needles rustled.
The new realm was colored in shades of gray.
It was depressing.
Hundreds of snow-frosted trees swayed as the therapy RJE fell silent in
my hand. Condensation from steam froze across my face as I stood up.
The air was chilly, but I was colder.
A shiver racked my frame.
The tension from Dr. Palmer's office still clung to my skin, and I
concentrated on my surroundings.
All was hushed.
I'd assumed the base for a planetwide war would be enormous and filled
with thousands of soldiers. That it would be loud and messy. Chaotic.
It was painfully quiet.
Only a hundred soldiers.
We were alone.
Abandoned
I pressed my pipe between my lips and inhaled deeply, and it clattered
against my teeth. Horse cawed as he circled through the snow above my head.

Squinting, I studied my crow's feathers and tried to remember if they'd

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always trailed after him in such a long plumage.

He twirled lazily on a breeze and screeched his enjoyment.
I shrugged and blew out a cloud of smoke, my nose burning from the chilled
air.
Glaring up at the towering white-peaked mountains that surrounded the
valley, I pocketed the RJE device.
Thick snowflakes fell softly in the gray.
Storm clouds drifted through an atmosphere.
I inhaled smoke sharply and tried to forget that Lyla had lied by
implication when she'd given our legions separate designations.
We weren't here to lead an army of thousands; we were here to fight
against a planet full of monsters.
We were here to suffer.
I exhaled and pretended the gods weren't useless beings who'd abandoned
us.
Snow drifted through the frigid air, then sizzled as it hit the hot ground and
evaporated, and water rose as it rose from the planet's surface in a thick layer
of fog.
Planet 003FX had an immensely hot core that heated the ground to around
eighty degrees Fahrenheit and a freezing atmosphere.
At least, that was what the High Court's informational packet said.
I said it sucked.
Freezing temperatures, perpetual falling snow, a foggy surface, and gray
sky.
A boring place to die.
If I squinted, I could just barely see a tiny shimmer to the air. The High
Court speculated that rare bioluminescence in the soil evaporated into the
atmosphere and created the effect.
Since it was barely noticeable, I don't know why they bothered to discuss
Item.

The kings followed as I walked through the war camp hidden beneath
glistering heavens.
Snow-dusted trees camouflaged the camp.
I had yet to see any evidence of animals.
“Aran, you're back.” John burst out of our legion's designated bunker and
threw his arms around me. “Thank the sun god, Luka's in a silent mood, and he
refused to laugh at any of my jokes.”
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I didn't point out that Luka was always in a silent mood; it was part of his
charm. Instead, I inhaled the rich scent of sandalwood and slumped forward.
John held me up.
Snowflakes danced around us as our breath mingled in frosty puffs.
Our chests pressed together, hearts thumping in rhythm, I burrowed into his
arms like I could crawl under his skin.
Disappear into his warmth.
“How was mandatory therapy? Are you okay?” John whispered in my
ear.
I pressed my face deeper against his warm shoulder and groaned, “Horrible.
Y no."
Arms tightened around my shoulders as he squeezed me three times in quick
succession.
My heart stuttered.
I squeezed back four times as hard as I could.
His breath caught.
We both knew what it meant.
“Anything I can do to help?” John's fingers gently tipped my chin up, and he
brushed snow off my face.
“Beat me to death with a shovel,” I offered.
He chuckled, and the sound was deep and rich as he swooped down and
booped my nose, holding me close as I struggled to get away.
“Is she hurt?” Luka asked behind him. “Did something happen to her face?”
Unlike John's relaxed posture, Luka was rigid.
Tense.
He was focused on the two of us.
At all times.
Luka's dark eyes flashed with concern as he stared down at me, so I wiggled
out of John's arms and jumped to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.
His fingers pressed reverently against where my lips touched.
Pinpricks of pain trailed across my back. There was something so
heartbreakingly sweet about Luka that made me want to latch onto him and never
let him go.
John pulled me back beneath his arm and answered his twin, “Nah.” He
flashed his dimples and tried to tweak my nose again, but I ducked. “My wife is
perfect.”
“Our wife,” Luka corrected.
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Malum said, “She's not your wife.”

The kings glared at the twins like they were a threat. Malum's flaming arms were
draped over Scorpius and Orion protectively.
For a few seconds, I'd forgotten they existed, and I missed that time because it was
peaceful.
The devils moved together and crowded our space as Luka stepped forward
protectively.
“Not our wife.” John winked dramatically. “Yet.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever you say, husband.”
My stomach swooped, and the pain intensified.
“Shut the fuck up and be quiet,” Malum snarled. “You both know the rules.”

What a sweet man. There was that sunshine and rainbows attitude
everyone knew and loved.
His knuckles were white from how tightly he was gripping his mates for support.

Therapy had clearly mellowed him out. Not.

He needed electric shock therapy, or a lobotomy, or both.
I was willing to experiment.
John opened his mouth to speak, and the glare Malum shot at him would
they have brought a lesser man to his knees.
Central to the war effort was remaining undetected by the ungodly. Since the High
Court didn't know what technology the planet possessed, everyone was ordered to stay
indoors as much as possible, and if you were outside, you had to be quiet.

Red flames flickered on bronze shoulders, and the snow falling around us turned into
rain.
The kings stared at me with intense emotions.
I stared back with deadened eyes.
I'd stopped caring when he'd forced me to stand out under a sky that rained glass.

“You're just calling him husband to get on our nerves,” Scorpius sneered.
I sighed heavily. “You think you're so important. Newsflash, I'm calling him my husband
—because that's exactly what he's going to be.” I scoffed.
“Everything isn't about you. Grow up.”
Scorpius's razor-sharp jaw twitched, red flames multiplied, and Orion frowned at me
like I'd disappointed him.
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I leaned against John, and Luka rubbed my back. I smiled with

contentment and said softly, “My husbands are important to me.”
The battle lines between us were clear.
Three versus three.
Scorpius grunted at my words like he'd taken a punch to the gut.
I smirked.
Of course, I was only doing it out of spite; I might be depressed, but at my
core, I was a hateful bitch.
“Stop calling them that,” Malum burst out loudly, red staining his bronze
cheeks as he stared at me like he was embarrassed that he couldn't control his
temper.
We were all embarrassed for him.
“Let's go inside, husbands.” I ignored the kings. “Some people don't know
how to obey the rules of the camp.”
John flashed his dimples, and Luka grunted as I pulled them inside the room
that was our legion's sleeping bunker.
A seven-foot-tall flaming blight on the history of womankind stomped in
behind us. “I told you to be quiet first,” Malum said unhelpfully.
The fact that this was him trying to grow to me was beyond disturbing.
“And I told you to shut the fuck up and die.” I yawned. “What's your point?”

The temperature spiked.

What could I say? The therapy session was making me feel reckless. I
wanted payback.
I breathed into my cupped hands to warm them.
Malum's fists trembled at his side, and his face exploded in scarlet flames.

Orion roughly pulled him back, and Scorpius shouted in his face, “Snap out
of it! You're in control—the fire does not control you. Breathe with me.
You're okay.”
I rolled my eyes as Scorpius talked Malum off the edge of a total inferno for
what felt like the millionth time this week.
“Just to play devil's advocate—” I chuckled at the double entendre. “—he
doesn't seem in control to me.”
Malum growled like a wild animal.
Never forget three weeks ago at the end of the Legionnaire Games when
Malum said he was going to cherish and take care of me and promised it
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would be different.
Baby girl needs to focus on what he's manifesting because it's not
working. I opened my mouth to tell him so, but—
“I can't do this!” Malum screamed, and flames shot out of his mouth like a
dragon. “I can't watch you hang all over other men and call them your husbands
without reacting. “ You're mine.”
Eh, I'll tell him later.
He fell to his knees.
My headache intensified.
I kicked off my heavy combat boots, lay down in my narrow bunk bed,
and pulled the blankets up to my chin.
John kissed my forehead and climbed up to the top bunk. Luka gave me a
soft kiss on the cheek and climbed into the bed above mine. A zip of pain
traveled down my spine.
Fondness spread through me.
All three of us sighed.
Our new bedroom was low, narrow, and sparse, with a single window that
had a view of the trees. A sliver of mountain was visible if you pressed your face
against the glass and looked to the left.
Yes, my cheek print was still on the glass from looking.
The space also had matching three-person bunk beds on the walls going
longways and a two-person bunk that framed the window. A narrow dresser in
the corner had eight drawers, one for each of us, and a laughably small
bathroom with barely any room to move.
Overall, it was sufficient.
Better than a wall in front of a toilet and a broken cot.
“You can't be with them.” Flames swallowed Malum whole in the center
of the room, and Scorpius grimaced as he held on to his crazed mate.
Orion glared at the twins like it was their fault.
The room sizzled with heat.
I snuggled deeper into bed and enjoyed the cozy warmth as my chilly skin
thawed. Malum made a nice bonfire.
I'd been surprised by how accepting the kings had been of the twins over
these last few weeks. I'd gaslit myself into thinking just maybe they weren't
totally insane.
Glad we'd cleared that up.
Malum having a total meltdown felt right. The failed therapy sessions and
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close proximity didn't help. Neither did a looming war.

From what I'd gathered, the kings were desperate to prove to the sun god
that they were worthy kings, and they were devastated that they wouldn't have
an army to back them.
I would also have been depressed if I was passionate about winning.
Good thing I was depressed for other reasons.
“You should probably cry about it more,” I said to Malum, who was still fully
on fire. “That will definitely help the situation.”
Yes, I was being a raging bitch to the kings whenever I could, which
objectively wasn't helping the situation; However, subjectively, it was making
me feel better.
A win-win.
Flames roared.
“He's not wrong,” Scorpius sneered as he gripped his lunatic of a mate.
“At the end of the day, you're our Revered. You're fated to be with us—not
them. You need to grow up and stop pretending. You're already one of us.”
Orion agreed in agreement, and light pink petals drifted across his neck as
captivating brown eyes glinted with anger.
I yawned sleepily.
Who was going to tell them I was way too fashionable to be one of them?
Our lifestyles had a fundamental conflict—I wanted to lie in the sun all day and
do nothing, and they wanted to kill things for fun. I wanted to nap under a tree
as a warm breeze rustled my hair, and Malum wanted to set the tree on fire
and scream at it.
I shuddered.
We were never going to work.
Luka draped his hand down over the side of the bunk, and I threaded my
fingers through his. The only good thing about the fairly close bunks was we
could easily reach one another.
I'd gotten used to waking up with a numb arm.
I needed Luka's touch nightmares because he stalked me when I closed
my eyes, and his grip was my only tether to reality.
“As your Ignis, I order you to break off your engagement,” Malum snarled
harshly.
A callused thumb brushed back and forth against the back of my hand
comfortingly.
I snuggled deeper into my covers and said, “As the hole in the room—I
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“order you to stop ordering me around.”

Sleep pulled me under, because unlike the plush beds at Elite Academy,
my mattress was hard as a rock. I loved it.
“You're not just a hole,” Malum snapped.
“Wait, really?” I asked in mock confusion. “That's news to me.”
“Obviously,” Scorpius spat. “Don't be ridiculous. “He's already apologized
for that—we're trying to move forward.”
“Technically,” I whispered, “I have three holes. So I'm holes. Plural." Yo
chuckled to myself as darkness wrapped around me.
I drifted away into sweet unconsciousness.
“Do n't talk about yourself that way. I won't fucking have it,” Malum barked,
and I immediately jolted back awake.
Sun god forbid the hole in the room have a moment of peace.
“Is Malum having a meltdown again?” Vegar asked from the other set of
bunks. Our demon teammate's voice was scratchy, like he'd just woken up
from a nap.
Zenith grumbled above him.
“Oh yeah,” John answered.
The demon lovers were grumpier than usual because they couldn't fit
together on the narrow beds. Add into the mix a seven-foot-tall soldier of death
with the constitution of a flaming, deranged donkey and you had a recipe for
uncomfortable living.
Malum screamed, “I'm not having a meltdown!”
Convincing.
Vegar resumed snoring.
“Okay, Mitch,” I mumbled.
"Que?" Zenith asked.
“Male bitch.”
“Oh,” Zenith said, “makes sense.”
The leader of the kings let out a war cry.
“Save it for the battlefield, Mitch.” I pulled the blanket over my head with
my free arm and tried to suffocate myself to sleep.
Luka squeezed my hand, and I relished his touch.
“Can you stop antagonizing him?” Scorpius sneered. “You're not helping
the situation.”
“You're doing this to me, Arabella,” Malum said harshly.
What a charming individual.
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“No baby girl, that's all you.” I yawned. “Also, that's something Mitch would
say.”
Someone let out a barking laugh, but sleep swallowed me, and I couldn't
respond.

I jolted awake.
Soft snores and the whisper of sheets echoed.
It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness. The room's single
window was dark with snowfall, and there wasn't a star in sight.
The covers pulled up to my chin cracked with frost, and my breath came
out in a visible puff even though the room was warmed by enchantment.
I couldn't find the energy to be surprised.
Lately, the cold stalked me.
Diamonds flashed as I moved the wrist clasped in Luka's grip. My other
hand was filled with cold metal and paper. I brought my palm to my face in
confusion.
Recognition dawned.
A lighter and a tiny piece of paper, which read, “Please don't hurt Corvus,
he doesn't mean what he says.”
Orion was trying to help.
Bless his delusional, psychotic heart.
He didn't realize his mate was beyond saving.
For a second, my heart panged as I thought about how much the kings all
cared about one another. They didn't want to see Malum hurt, and truthfully,
neither did I—I wanted him obliterated. Complete annihilation.
There was nothing more satisfying than a grown man crying.
Empty anger welled.
I was vengeful because of what he'd done to me.
He'd made his choice.
He'd sacrificed me in the games.
He'd discarded me like trash.
I needed payback—I needed to do something.
Gently detangling my fingers from Luka's, I slipped out of bed and tiptoed
across the barely three feet of space that separated one end of the
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room from the other.

Kneeling in front of the lowest bunk, I brought the lighter up.
Flicked it.
A yellow flame danced, and I held it against the white sheets. It crawled across
fabric and left a scorch of black, and the harsh scent of burning cotton was noxious.

Fire multiplied.
Harsh bronze features in rest flickered with shadows. Asleep, Corvus Malum
looked more like a man and less like the angry instrument of the sun god.

Silver eyes opened and gleamed with a green sheen.

Yellow flames intensified.
Malum stared at me and didn't move as his bed went up in flames.
“Can you turn off your powers?” I whispered.
Bronze skin rippled as he leaned forward, and I scrambled backward as
he climbed out of the yellow inferno and unfurled to his full height.
For a long moment, he stood before me, burning.
His brow crinkled, and he fisted his hands and scrunched his lids shut like he
was concentrating on letting the fire consume him.
Lashes fluttered.
Silver eyes pooled with sadness.
“No,” he said brokenly. “I can't turn it off.”
As he stood before me, half-naked, layers of bronze rippled across his
immense torso, his shoulders hunched forward with defeat like he'd thought this
could save us.
A ripple of pain shivered down my spine, and I pretended not to feel it.
I mumbled, “At least you tried.”
We both knew it wasn't enough.
We'd both heard my screams.
“Look at me.”
I stared at the floor.
“Please,” I begged.
I glanced up.
The flaming devil took a step closer, and his expression fell as he whispered,
“I'm sorry about how I spoke to you earlier. “I was out of line—and it hurts.”

A blush stained the tops of his cheekbones as he stared down at me.

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His silver eyes were pleading.

Scorpius swore as he scrambled out of his bunk and smacked at the flames, and
the rest of the room woke up around us. Men shouted. Someone grabbed a bucket
from the bathroom and threw water on the flames. There was chaos all around.

Neither of us moved.
“Just not how you meant, Arabella.” His baritone voice was soft.
I have leaned closer and breathed out.
Our breath mingled.
Surprisingly soft lips pressed gently against mine, and they were incredibly warm.
“I'm so sorry,” he whispered against my mouth. “Please forgive me.” Wide palms
cradled the sides of my face, and heavily callused fingers traced gently across my
cheekbones.
Pain streaked sharply across my back.
Heat burned against my mouth as a different type of fire spread inside my chest.

As his tongue battled against mine, I tasted whiskey and tobacco. My skin tingled
with awareness.
Knees went weak.
The bed burned and men yelled. As they tried to put out the fire, Malum kissed me
like he was trying to devour me.
Pain streaked hotter down my spine.
It reminded me.
I was embracing the devil.
I yanked away from him and stumbled until I bumped into my bed.
Regret filled my throat and closed my airways for acting rashly, and I wished I hadn't
woken him up.
I should have kept ignoring him.
Flames boiled me alive. Water filled my lungs. Glass shattered my skin.
Jinx screamed in pain. He looked at me. “Women are nothing but holes.”
He whispered brokenly, “It hurts because you're already killing me.” A bronze hand
reached out toward me. His lips were swollen. There was a handprint of ice in the
middle of his chest where I'd touched him.
He looked ravaged.
I shivered uncontrollably as blue ice spread beneath my feet.
“I will make the past up to you. “I swear on my life.” His voice dripped with sincerity.
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I have sounded agonized.

The handprint sizzled as it melted.
I climbed backward into my bed, and bronze fingers curled slowly into a fist and fell
down with defeat.
Dr. Palmer had said my feelings were valid.
I felt like Malum didn't care about me; he just wanted his Revered. I have wanted a
perfect ideal, not an imperfect person.
I counted desperately under my breath. “Two. Four. Sixteen. Two hundred and fifty-
six. “Sixty-five thousand, five hundred, and thirty-six.” The numbers blurred.

I pressed trembling fingers to my lips.

They still tingled.
Whiskey and tobacco lingered on my tongue like the most depraved aphrodisiac.

I reminded myself that Aran would never be enough for the kings.
The three of them whispered and held one another in the middle of the room as they
made sure Malum was all right.
Luka made a disgruntled noise and flexed his hand hanging over his bunk like he was
agitated.
I wrapped my fingers around his.
He sighed with relief and squeezed tightly.
The hollowness in my chest receded, but as my eyes closed, nightmares sank their
claws deep and pulled me under.
Fire burned all around.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six…
Even in my sleep, I counted.
Desperately.
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Chapter 6
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Scorpio
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THE FIRST ASSIGNMENT

FACINOROUS (ADJECTIVE): atrociously wicked.

“The angels have returned from their scouting mission!” The alarm blared over the
room's enchanted speaker system.
Pain stabbed my temples.
The alarm burned my overly sensitive ears.
“The first ungodly infestation has been located, and RJE devices have been
calibrated for coordinates. All legions and soldiers report to the cafeteria in .03
hours. Repeat. All legions and soldiers report to the cafeteria in .03 hours. Reminder
to move stealthily, quiet must be observed in open areas. “Do not compromise the
base.”
I climbed out of my bunk.
Clothes rustled and voices swore as my legion mates rushed to pull on their
standard-issue military gear that Orion said was all black: insulated undergarments,
flexible snow pants, a thin but warm jacket, and heavy combat boots.

I was already fully dressed.

Ever since we'd moved into the war camp, I slept fully clothed.
I was always more prepared than everyone else. Planning ahead for everything
situation and iteration to make sure I didn't inconvenience those around me.
My mates never judged me, but the rest of the world did.
I was the blind one.
I'd always be weak, no matter how many times I proved I was strong.
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My ears rang as the high-pitched sirens wailed, and a crippling headache

pounded against my temple.
“Are you okay?” Corvus asked as he massaged the base of my skull like he
always did when I was around headache-inducing sounds.
I agreed at him.
Orion gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek, and I basked in his tenderness,
then I pulled away regretfully.
We had obligations.
War.
Adrenaline pounded through my veins, and I cracked my neck back and forth.

Ever since we'd learned how alone we were in this war, I'd been itching to
do something. I needed to take action. It was obvious that the High Court was
wholly unprepared for what was to come.
Sounds erupted as my teammates scrambled to get dressed.
The voice that haunted my dreams swore softly, and I stalked across the
room toward them.
“Do you need help?” I asked, every cell in my body highly attuned to her
presence.
Arabella grunted. “I can't find a hair tie, and my stupid curls are—”
I pulled the band off my wrist and held it out to her.
“Where did you get that?” Her voice was accusing, and she didn't take it.
I sighed with annoyance. “Take the fucking hair band.”
“Explain.” She snatched it from my fingers.
“I have it on me in case Corvus needs to keep his pretty hair pulled back,”
I sneered sarcastically.
There was a scratching noise as my Ignis ran his hands over his shaved
head and snapped, “Really?”
Arabella chuckled, then stopped like she'd remembered who she was
laughing with. “Tell me why you have it.” Two palms pressed against my chest
and pushed me backward.
She was trying to be threatening.
I swallowed down a moan.
My Revered's hands were on me.
She'd voluntarily touched me.
Ten warm fingers had played against my shirt for .2 seconds, and it was
just long enough to send streaks of lust exploding across my senses.
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I readjusted my pants.
"Tell me!" Arabella pushed me again.
I put my fist to my mouth and bit down to stop myself from giving her an
explanation. I needed her to keep touching me like I needed to breathe.
It was fucking crucial to my survival.
She was my survival.
Nobody could understand but us.
Unlike other relationships, devil mates weren't symbiotes of compatible
souls that joined together.
A Revered was a male devil's soul. Period.
Without her we were soulless monsters.
An enchanted voice boomed, “All legions and soldiers report to the cafeteria
in .01 hours.”
“We need to go now,” Corvus barked over the sirens.
“Come on, Aran,” Luka said gruffly, and there was the sound of flesh against
cloth as he pulled her away from me.
“Stay calm,” John murmured to her.
As our legion exited the room, Orion and I ran forward in unison and
we placed ourselves in front of Arabella. A Protector shielded his Revered.
Always.
Orion grabbed my elbow as he jogged beside me and led me down the paths.

I thank you in your direction.

We were on the same page.
Behind us, Arabella whispered, “Get out of my way.” She gently pushed
against my back. “Also, explain the hair tie.”
I grunted from the ecstasy of her touch.
Chilly air slapped my face, and steam sizzled as the pine needles whispered,
snow falling gently all around.
I tasted the cold radiating off Arabella; it was like a shot of adrenaline straight
into my veins. It was addicting.
The noises of the new realm were foreign and disorienting. The landscape
was quietly loud in a cacophony of hushed sounds. I'd never heard anything like
it.
Orion and I fell back so we were closer to Arabella.
She huffed and tried to jog faster to get around us, but we picked up our
speed and shielded her with our bodies.
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She didn't get it.

We were never leaving her unguarded.
Not in a foreign realm.
Not during war.
Not in a time of peace.
Never.
Flames crackled on Corvus's shoulder as my Ignis ran at the back of the
group, his breathing steady and controlled behind us as he protected our
Revered's flank.
Not for the first time, I marveled at how truly opposite they were—ice and
fire. It was highly unusual because an Ignis and Revered were renowned for
complementing each other's abilities.
It seemed strange that they would be true opposites. The only complement
they could provide was to stop the other. With Corvus's tenuous control over
his flames, part of it made sense that Arabella was meant to ice him out when
he lost control.
I grimaced.
There was something wrong with that dynamic.
It was utilitarian in its brutality, while an Ignis and Revered were
supposed to be something more. Destined to help each other, not hurt.
My gut screamed at me that Arabella's role wasn't just to stop Corvus.
Last night, Orion had whispered in my ear that Corvus had kissed her like
he was a dying man, and she was oxygen. I'd had to adjust myself in my pants.

Fuck, I wanted them both so badly.

In the present, scarlet flames crackled louder around Corvus; the
temperature around Arabella dropped several degrees colder.
Instinct warned that their powers unleashed together would be
cataclysmic and painful.
That was fine with me.
I welcomed the fallout.
Everyone else, including the soldiers we jogged beside down the path,
were collateral. It had always been about her, but we'd been stupid fools unable
to recognize it for what it was.
Now no one matters but Arabella.
Period.
I was a Protector through and through.
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When we entered the cafeteria, it was uncomfortably warm.

Soft breathing, rustling, and anticipation filled the largest structure of the
camp and indicated about a hundred soldiers were present.
We gathered inside and stood at attention beside the rest of the camp.
Dick spoke loudly from the front of the hall, “The angels have located the
first city-state and returned with coordinates. As you've been informed, this
planet is composed of valley settlements separated by treacherous mountains.”

Steps echoed with the telltale click that all the boots of the High Court
workers had as a person walked among the lines.
A worker shoved metal against my chest harshly.
I grabbed the sword and sheathed it.
“Don't touch him like that,” Corvus threatened the worker softly beside
I.
Orion breathed roughly through his nose.
As the only blind soldier at the base, I was used to the rough treatment and
the whispers that followed me. I could practically taste the doubt radiating off
the High Court workers in my presence.
I heard the whispers.
They didn't think I belonged.
Corvus grew led, and the worker gulped loudly.
Dick announced, “We will reiterate one last time that we suspect there to
be dozens of portals hidden in this planet's geography connecting it to other
High Court realms.”
I have paused.
A worker cleared their throat in front of me, and I held my hands out.
Knives were placed into my palms gently, and I threaded them through the
straps on my belt.
“Better,” Corvus said as the person scurried away.
“As we've said before”—Dick sounded annoyed that he was repeating
himself—“our data indicates there has been no coordinated push to escape
through the portals. They seem to travel at random in small segments, and the
High Court has had success eliminating those small sects. These operations
do not amount to war.”
Arabella murmured under her breath beside me, “No. “We've had success
eliminating them.”
I agreed.
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“The ungodly need to be dealt with at the source,” Dick said.

Feet shuffled, and a few men gulped.
The High Court kept dancing around explicitly saying that we had to
eliminate an entire planet before they realized they were under attack.
A mass extermination.
“As I've stated before, the OPA forbid the High Court from waging direct
war against another sentient species. This is the first and only mission we will
be a part of. “We have given you the tools and ability to locate the threat.”
The worker handed me a sword, and I sheathed it.
“Going forward, the shifter and academy legions will be in charge,” Dick
said with authority. “The angel legion is second-in-command to them. They will
agree and plan in the strategy room. Everyone except Jinx will RJE there. “She
stays at the base.”
Soldiers whispered.
I recognized a voice.
Knox, the angel captain with heterochromia, called Jinx a string of
expletives, which was strange because he was usually polite and collaborative.

I narrowed my eyes.
We'd spent a lot of time with the shifter legion, and I'd come to enjoy Jinx's
presence.
I didn't like his fucking tone.
Dick continued, “We have no knowledge about the civilization the ungodly
have taken over. “We recommend conserving your abilities and only using
weapons in this first meeting to identify as much information as possible about
your foes.”
The worker handed me a small silicone device and explained hastily, “It's
an enchanted earpiece so the champions and generals can communicate with
each other. Press down on the top button once to speak. Hold it down to turn
it off.”
I agreed and placed it in my ear.
It fits snugly.
“Per the OPA, all high-ranking members of the High Court will leave this
camp immediately. How you choose to proceed is up to you. “We are giving
you all the tools you need to succeed.”
A rustle of unease spread through the room.
“A team of healers, weapons strategists, enchanters, and food workers
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Unconnected to the High Court will remain to assist with the base operations.
All concerns can be sent to the High Court through a secured, enchanted tablet,
but note we may not be able to respond.”
Boots shuffled back and forth on concrete.
“Corvus and Jax have been handed RJE devices to the settlement. Wait for
their directions. Good luck, soldiers. The fate of the realms is in your hands.”

There was a whirring noise. CRACK. Dick was gone.

The room erupted into motion.
Arabella scoffed beside me, “I can't believe they just abandoned us here.”
“Don't be stupid,” I sneered. “People in power always leave their messes to
others. “It was always going to be this way.”
“It's still stupid,” she muttered. “Personally, I think we should let the
ungodly do their thing. Who are we to intervene?”
Corvus huffed, “We're the sun god's kings. “We're built for war.”
“No,” she said. “You're kings, I'm a queen. “I was built for shopping and leisure.”

My Ignis choked, and I chuckled at how ridiculous she was. It was adorable. If
I hadn't fought beside her in large battles, I would think she was serious.

My Revered liked to pretend she was a privileged despot. It was part of the
reason we'd judged her so wrongly.
She hid her fierceness behind masks of sarcasm, but there was no
mistaking that she was a force of rage and power.
She was savage.
And I couldn't stop obsessing over her.
I grabbed her hand and threaded our fingers together, and hers were
frozen like she was sculpted from ice.
Tension dissipated from my body at the contact, and I rubbed my thumb
back and forth over hers. She tried to pull away, but my grip was steel.
The others gathered around.
“The champions and angels are going to RJE to the location for surveillance.
Wait here for further orders. When we return, we go to war,”
Corvus barked loudly in the quiet room.
“Yes, sir!” soldiers chorused back.
There was a clattering of wings as the angels walked over.
“You didn't join us for the scouting trip,” Knox said in a smooth tone
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beside me. “We missed you.”

I bristled.
He hadn't earned the right to miss her.
How fucking dare I talk to my Revered like he knew her? Orion put his arm
around my shoulder and held me back.
Arabella chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah, well I can't fly yet. I'm still working on
it.”
“You'll learn to fly,” I responded curtly. “You'll train with us after this battle.”

“Don't fucking tell her what to do,” Corvus snarled aggressively, and heat
poured off him.
“That would work for me.” Arabella clicked her tongue. “But I'm really big
on rest days. So let's circle back to that idea next week.”
“Soon,” Knox said. “Until you learn to fly, you're weak. “You need to master
your abilities.”
“Thirty seconds until we all RJE,” Corvus said. Wings clattered, and Knox
made a sound like he'd been pushed to the side.
Jax replied, “Remember, we need to be discreet, no loud noises.”
“Got it, make loud noises,” Sadie drew obnoxiously.
Arabella laughed.
It wasn't funny.
Warm breath suddenly fanned against my ear. “Why did you have a hair
band?” Arabella whispered so closely that she must have been on her tips.
I closed my eyes and inhaled her intoxicating icy scent, and my heart
pounded erratically like I'd taken a shot of caffeine.
"Tell me." Her nails dug into the skin of my arm that was still gripping
her wrist in a vise. She drew blood.
A shot of pure lust clouded my thoughts. Does she know what that means
take? Pain was my love language.
Her cold touch burned deliciously, and I grunted softly with pleasure.
The RJE device whirred as Corvus said, “Three seconds.”
I bent forward so my lips brushed against her temple. “Because you kept
complaining about losing them, and I wanted to be helpful.”
CRACK.
The sound of jumping through time and space muffled Arabella's harsh
inhale, but I didn't miss it.
I'd surprised her.
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Cold air stung my cheeks, and I knelt on icy rocks. From the lack of hot
steam, we were on the side of a mountain.
“Let go of me.” Arabella's breath came out in even puffs.
My lips were still pressed against her icy skin, and it was like touching
lightning in a blizzard. Electricity cracked between us.
“Never,” I promised as I released her hand.
She let out a little gasp like she was in pain, and I frowned.
Nothing should have hurt her, yet her breathing pattern clearly changed
like it did when she was getting stitched up.
I didn't fucking like it.
“Stay low, follow me. “We'll climb down the mountainside.” Corvus's voice
spoke loudly in our enchanted earpieces.
Arabella tried to take a step away from me, but I stepped closer. The
battle might be starting, but a campaign was already being waged, and failure
wasn't an option when it came to her.
I would figure out whatever pained her, and I would destroy it. My Revered
would never suffer in my presence, never again.
Orion's touch guided me as we stayed close to our Revered and followed
our Ignis into war.
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Chapter 7
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Aran
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PREPERATIONS

QUERENCIA (NOUN): an area in the arena taken by the bull for a defensive
stand in a bullfight.

The infected settlement was a sprawling palatial structure, which filled the
valley. It was composed of red bricks and arches that were dusted in snow.
In the center of it all, a sprawling courtyard was filled with trees wrapped in
twinkling lights.
It was pretty.
Malum swore viciously as he laid on his stomach with binoculars pressed
against his face. Jax was beside him in a similar position, frowning as he
watched the valley below.
“What is it?” Cobra asked as he squatted under the low-hanging rocks with
the rest of us.
Six angels.
Four shifters.
Three devils.
Two demons.
Two Princes of Darkness.
One half-breed.
And one fae queen who'd recently discovered she was an angel.
Twenty people who would never have crossed paths if it weren't for
nightmarish monsters, truant gods, and a controlling, oligarchic regime.
The twins sat behind me, and I leaned back against them with Sadie
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resting across my side as I inhaled her familiar cranberry scent.

Once again, we were together on the side of a freezing, snowy mountain.
Why weren't more wars held in tropical locations? That was the real question.

The sun set on the horizon, and the sky was a dark gray.
Horse settled onto my shoulder, his long tail feathers hanging off the side
of my arm majestically. At least someone was looking good these days.
“Fuck this,” Malum whispered. “Could one thing go right for us in this blasted
realm?”
“What is it?” Scorpius asked, his arm draped over Orion's shoulders protectively.

Jax and Malum dropped their binoculars and looked at each other. Ever since
Dick had started preparing us for war, they'd been sharing silent glances and nodding.
Like they could read each other's minds.
“I'm getting worried,” Sadie whispered next to me.
I blew onto my stiff hands to warm them and replied, “Don't worry. I'll save you,
princess.”
She stuck her tongue out at me, and I tried to grab it while she was squealed.
My head still ached from building my mind palace. My shoulders also hurt, and I
rolled them to relieve the dull pain that had appeared after I'd sprouted wings that
didn't work like a demented butterfly.
Life was truly marvelous.
At least I hadn't been born a man; that would really suck…although, my penis
would be huge.
Luka's hands traced patterns absent-mindedly across my back, and John played
with my curls as he whispered something under his breath to his brother. The jewel
of death hung heavy against my chest, and a diamond bracelet glinted on my wrist.

I slumped back against the warmth of the twins and cherished their proximity.

Lately, they were one of the few things that staved off the madness.
The perpetual cold inside my bones, headaches, and pain in my shoulders
they were overstimulating at best and torturous at worst.
Sadie patted my head and sniggered, “Please, I don't need you to save me—
remember, I can enslave you at any time.” She won. “Plus, we get to battle beside
each other in an intergalactic war to save the world. “It should be fun.”
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I pulled out my pipe and inhaled deeply. “False.” I blew smoke in her face.
“Fun is a shopping trip, or when we tried to lose our virginity together at the fae
sex clinic.”
We both frowned as we thought about how that day had gone horribly wrong.

I chuckled. “Never forget we both checked yes for elbow play.”

She grimaced and clutched her arm protectively. “I still have nightmares
about someone violating them.”
I squinted. “I never thought about it—but how would that work? What is
sexual about an elbow? “I have so many questions.”
She made a face. “I think it's pretty clear.”
It was times like this where I worried the most about her.
“What do you mean, it's clear?” I asked. “Nothing about something
called 'elbow play' is clear to me.”
The twins made a choking noise behind me, and we ignored them.
“Grow up, Aran,” Sadie said as she shook her head like I was being stupid,
then she snatched the pipe from my fingers before I could react and took a long
drag. “Damn, I forgot how much this stuff hits.”
I rolled my eyes at her.
Obviously.
I only smoked the best.
“Drugs are not allowed in battle,” a high-pitched female voice said haughtily
from a few feet away. “It was stated in the High Court's informational packet,
multiple times.”
Sadie, Horse, and I turned in unison to stare at the gorgeous woman who
crouched against the rocks.
Black-lipstick-stained lips contrasted with her cornflower-blonde hair.
She was the angel who'd slaughtered the devil and assassin in the Legionnaire
Games.
Horse looked away and dug his beak into his wings to groom the new
feathers along the tips. He was clearly unimpressed with what he saw.
“What's your name?” I twirled my pipe with my tongue, and Sadie's eyes
glowed intensely, a scarlet sheen reflected off the snow.
“Rina,” the angel answered through gritted teeth.
“Well, Rina,” I said slowly with a false smile. “The High Court has abandoned
us, and we're all probably going to die at the hands of parasitic monsters.”
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She frowned.
“Violently.”
A few feet away from me, the demons shook with silent laughter.
I inhaled enchanted smoke. “Personally, I'm going to keep smoking. If you
want to die stone-cold sober, then be my guest. But worry about yourself.”

“You know, I've never thought about it that way,” Sadie said as I passed her
the pipe. “It really makes you think about things.”
“What things?” I asked.
She stared at the smoke. “Things.” She spoke like she was saying something
deep.
There's my special girl.
“You're so right.” I agreed in agreement and let her have her philosophical
moment. I was nothing if not supportive.
Rina wrinkled her nose. “It's against the rules for everyone, especially us.
We're the leaders. “We need to set a good example.”
“That's not really our thing,” Sadie mumbled as she smoked, and I agreed
in agreement. We had a reputation to uphold, and it involved drinking excessive
amounts of demon brew and making questionable life choices.
Rina's pretty face contorted. “I wasn't talking to you, half-breed mutt.”
Stunned silence.
“What did you just call my mate?” Cobra's voice was serrated, and there
was a loud schhhhhhk as Xerxes pulled out his knives.
I started to stand up, but Sadie pulled me back down.
No one stopped Cobra.
He stalked across the narrow rocks and glared down at Rina with slit
pupils as black shadow snakes slithered across his exposed skin.
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled.
Danger intensified.
Knox moved in a blur until he stood nose to nose with Cobra. One of his
eyes glowed black, while the other glowed yellow, and his expression was cruel.

A low hiss erupted from Cobra's chest.

Knox's features smoothed into a pleasant expression, and he took a step
back. He relaxed his shoulders like he wasn't a threat and said softly, “She
doesn't interact with grounders often, forgive her. “She's forgotten her manners.”
He glared down at Rina, who visibly cowed beneath his censure.
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“Grounders?” Vegar asked.

The blonde man kneeling next to Rina tilted his nose up. “It's what we call
people who aren't angels.” He was equally gorgeous and gave off the same
haughty air. I believed his name was Arthur, and they were clearly siblings.
“We mean no harm from it. Excuse us,” Knox said smoothly as he bowed his
head.
His words fell on deaf ears. Tension expanded across the outcrop as the
legions sized each other up.
Eyes narrowed as everyone realized at the same time that the angels were
prejudiced against other species.
A headache pounded in my temple.
Working with them would be fun.
Not.
Xerxes cleared his throat and turned toward Jax and Malum pointedly.
“Why were you two swearing? What did you see?”
The obvious attempt to change the topic worked because Knox backed away
from Cobra and everyone focused on why we were freezing our butts off on the
side of a mountain in the first place.
“We can see people in the courtyard,” Jax said slowly.
I squinted, but it was too far to see without binoculars.
Malum frowned. “These people, who we're calling the infected, look like
the villagers we've fought before.”
“That's good,” Vegar pointed out, and Zenith agreed in agreement as he
said, “Those people were mostly powerless and seemed primitive—”
“We should worry,” Malum cut him off.
Jax exhaled roughly and dragged his fingers through his long braids, gold
chains tinkling as he said, “Their architecture is advanced, and they appear to
have technology.”
His words sank in.
“Still, they could be mostly peaceful, and we could catch them unaware like
we did in the other realms,” John said hopefully as he tugged on my curl.
Jax and Malum looked at each other.
Fire spread across Malum's bronze head, and the flames reflected in silver
eyes. His baritone voice was soft as he said, “Every woman and man who has
walked through the courtyard has a long sword on their hips. They glow with blue
enchantments. Every single one of them.”
Not one spoke.
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There was nothing to say.

Nauseousness made my head light because enchanted steel could slice
through anything.
The slur on my back burned.
Enchanted weapons were extremely rare because metals naturally repelled
enchantments. They were next to impossible to forge and extremely expensive.

I breathed unevenly.
These weren't primitive, unarmed civilians like the ungodly we'd
previously fought on mountainsides.
“What does this mean?” Rina asked.
Scorpius's milky eyes stared off, far away, as he sneered, “It means we
“have to kill armed civilians and then the ungodly.”
“We can't fight them like we have before.” Malum's mouth pulled tight with
worry.
Lothaire had hinted months ago that the ungodly we fought were weaker
than others.
Had he known?
Even back then?
Suddenly it made sense why he'd only let us fight with daggers.
It had been a warmup.
“We'll use our powers and our weapons strategically,” Knox said as a
broadsword of ice formed across his back. Six more cracked into existence on
the backs of the other angels.
The air temperature dropped several degrees.
Frost burned my nose.
I silently stared at my frost-covered fingers and imagined a sword forming.

Nothing happened.
I was useless.
Flames spread down Malum's head, across his shoulders, and he stared at
Orion and Scorpius. "Forks." His voice was rough like broken glass and whiskey.
“We'll have to use our powers.”
Silver liquefied into molten steel.
I exhaled roughly.
My heart rate increased, and I struggled to swallow as the leader of the
kings pinned me with his gaze. The reason the High Court mandated group
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Weekly therapy sessions were suddenly disturbingly clear.

They'd known the enemy had enchanted weapons.
Sweat dripped down my sides even though the temperature was freezing.
They'd known what we'd have to fight against.
I remembered the fear.
Petals swirled as Orion bled and entered. Scorpius's third eye opened wide
and revealed the secrets of souls. Malum pulled a dagger from his flesh, and
his red flames incinerated.
Bile scorched the back of my throat, and I pressed harder into John and
Luka's warmth. Arms wrapped around me and held me close.
I'd been pretending I had a choice.
Subconsciously I rubbed at the space on my hip where an enchanted tattoo
used to be; like a fool I'd thought I could cut it away and be free from the kings.

I couldn't even leave their presence because bond sickness still strummed
through my veins.
The men who were instruments of mass slaughter depended on me
because I was the only one who could stop them once they started killing.
The High Court had known all along what I'd have to do in this war.
They'd known my soul was tethered.
They'd known I would never escape.
Because at the end of the day, nothing had changed.
I was still enslaved.
To monsters.
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Part Two
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conflagration

“Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a
monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.”

ÿNietzsche
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Chapter 8
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Aran
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WAR

CONFLAGRATION (NOUN): a large disastrous fire.

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DAY 1, HOUR 3

I fantasized about slamming my head into the chalkboard.

Eight hours ago, when we'd returned from our scouting mission to the first
ungodly settlement, Jax sent the soldiers back to their barracks to await
instructions. The shifters, angels, and our legion piled into the strategy room
to plan.
After two useless hours of trying to brainstorm as a group, Jinx, Malum,
and I had been elected as the unofficial war strategists.
The planning was better now that the angels weren't arguing with
everyone and Sadie wasn't giving inane suggestions every five minutes.
It still wasn't going well.
“We forgot to factor in that we need to move quietly. Erase it and start
again,” Jinx said with exasperation.
She sat on the long table in front of the chalkboard with a ferret draped
across her shoulders like a scarf. Warren hung cleanly with his tongue hanging
out of his mouth.
He appeared dead, but I knew we weren't that lucky.
Jinx held out her pointer stick and tapped it on the board demandingly.
Pillows were piled up behind her back, and the remaining portion of her leg
was wrapped in white gauze.
We were still waiting on an enchanted prosthetic, or even a hover chair.
How the High Court had not acquired either by now was beyond me.
Jinx scowled at me like I was an idiot.
I glared back.
If there were a window in the strategy room, I would have chucked
myself out of it eight hours ago. There wasn't. I'd double-checked.
Instead, I gritted my teeth as I erased the battle strategy from the board
that we'd spent the past hour working on.
The worst part was that she was right.
Again.
We'd stupidly forgotten that we had to eliminate the ungodly quietly.
The numbers on the board mocked me: seven academy, five shifters, six
angels, four assassins, three devils, six leviathans, sixty-nine foot soldiers.
One hundred soldiers total.
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It wasn't a large number.

The best part of it was if anyone died, they couldn't be replaced, compliments
of the dumbass contract signed by the High Court and the sun god.

Loophole-proof.
Depression-inducing.
Mania-fueling.
I was exhausted after trying to consider the strengths of all our fighters, the
best way to kill the ungodly, battle formations, and how to secure the perimeter
of the palatial settlement.
Jinx pushed her black sunglasses higher up her nose.
The room was dimly lit, but she wore them as a peace offering to show she
wouldn't erase our memories anymore.
My right eye twitched.
I wasn't mollified.
Jinx could be altering our memories every day and we'd have no clue.
Sadie was a big advocate for the glasses, and the shifter legion seemed to
think they were sufficient, which made sense—they were all idiots.
Said idiots were currently sitting on the floor in the back of the room playing
a card game with Orion and Scorpius to pass the time, as if we were at a social
gathering and not preparing for war.
The demons were the only people in the room who had the decency to sit
slumped over, looking depressed.
Everyone else was smiling and chatting.
A headache throbbed harder in my temple, and the eraser in my hand was
streaked with ice as cold burned my fingertips.
Lately I was covered in ice, and it seemed to expand out around me.
I shivered as I remembered the blue flames that had trailed off Mother's
fingers when she was feeling emotional.
Was I becoming just like her?
Sweat dripped down my temple, and I wiped it away before it could freeze.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

I focused on the numbers and not the emotions scouring my insides.
An angel laughed loudly, and I jolted.
They lounged in the leather chairs and sipped from china cups like
aristocrats suffering ennui. Rina had made a call into her earpiece, and a
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worker had appeared with a tea cart and finger food.

I fantasized about bashing the kettle over their heads and shoving mini cucumber
sandwiches into their unconscious mouths, pressing my hands to their smiling lips and
freezing their mouths closed, turning them into blocks of…no. I was not going there.

“How did we forget such a pertinent factor?” Jinx slapped her palm to her forehead as
she stared at our strategy board. “We're being stupid and careless.”

I rubbed my forehead in agreement.

We'd been strategizing for what felt like an eternity, and we were working in circles.

Chalk scratched loudly against the other end of the blackboard as Malum
added “stealth” to the list of factors we needed to take into account.
The enchanted binoculars had mapped the structure that filled the valley, and the
visual was projected onto the blackboard. Jinx tapped on the tablet, and the enchanted
swords also appeared.
“The infected will cut through our weapons,” I pointed out.
Malum scribbled down the information onto the board.
Jinx looked at me and said, “Duh.”
“I was just saying,” I mumbled.
Jinx patted Warren's furry head. “Well—don't say stupid things.”
Chalk cracked between my fingers, and I breathed roughly through my
I don't know. My breath froze into tiny pieces.
Five. Here. Fifteen. Twenty. Twenty-five.
“Hopefully not everyone in the compound is armed,” Malum said as he studied the list
of objectives we had written out. “We need to eliminate the armed people first.”

Jinx looked at him like he was an idiot. “Obviously.”

Malum's jaw clenched, and his shoulders smoldered with fire. After a
long moment of him breathing harshly, the flames disappeared.
Too bad.
I was hoping he'd explode and kill us all.
It was a minor consolation that Jinx was torturing someone besides me.
One thing about the fourteen-year-old was that she was going to make you feel stupid,
no matter who you were. It was usually one of her best traits, but right now it was
hellaciously annoying.
Every time we thought we had a plan of action, Jinx remembered another
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factor that rendered it impossible.

The root problem: how did you eliminate a sprawling compound filled with
an unknown number of parasitic monsters without alerting them to your
presence?
Trick question.
You didn't.
You gave up and let the murderous parasites take over the universe
because frankly, it wasn't my business what the ungodly did.
Too bad the others didn't see it that way.
The shifters, the angels, and my teammates were outraged that the ungodly
could spill out through portals and end civilization as we knew it.
They acted like it was personally offensive.
Personally, I hoped the ungodly won.
People were annoying, and if it was my time to be the host of a monster
crustacean, then that was my destiny.
It was called giving up, and everyone needed to practice it more.
“We can't forget about the portals,” Jinx reiterated.
I doodled a self-portrait with chalk and said, “Best-case scenario, they don't
have any portals nearby.” The chalk scratched loudly across the board as it
turned to ice, and I picked up a new piece.
Malum countered immediately, “But the worst-case scenario is they have
a portal in the center of the base.”
I intended not to notice how gruff his voice sounded.
Pain definitely didn't streak down my back.
My lips most certainly didn't tingle as I remembered how he'd kissed like he
was trying to devour me.
Nope.
I added more blood to my dying stick figure, but since the chalk was all
white, it didn't give the visual effect I was going for.
Pitiful.
Malum cleared his throat harshly, and I glanced over with exasperation to
find him looking smug. It took me a second to realize I thought he'd one-upped
me, like we were back at Elite Academy, competing to see who was the
smartest.
Who was going to tell him there was no competition?
I was already winning.
“Most likely scenario is there is a portal because of their weapons,” Jinx
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said in a duh tone like we were both stupid. “But it will probably be located
outside the base—likely in the surrounding mountains. The energy field from
portals disrupts matter and makes it difficult to build around. You need advanced
enchanted materials, and the city appeared to be constructed from bricks.”

“So back to plan A.” Malum's chalk squeaked loudly as he wrote.

“Surround the base and trap the ungodly.”
“Have we tried to negotiate with the infected?” A male voice asked from
across the room as the angel named Arthur looked at us expectantly. “Why don't
we try to talk to them first?” He pursed his lips. “It can't hurt.”
I covered my mouth to stop myself from saying something I'd regret.
Some people needed a chair to the face.
In the far corner, Vegar muttered something about idiots as he played with
Zenith's hair, and both demons looked disgusted.
Chalk creaked in Malum's fingers, and we shared a long-suffering glance of
disbelief.
For the first time, we were in complete agreement.
A long moment passed, then Malum raked his hands across his shaved
head and said, “No, we have not tried to negotiate with the parasitic creatures.”

Arthur scoffed, “Well, we should try.”

Jinx turned around on the table and asked, “Who?”
“Are you speaking to me?” Arthur looked pointedly at where Jinx was
missing a leg, and the unspoken insult hung heavy in the air.
Rage flared across my sternum.
Knowledge that Jinx would eviscerate his existence was the only thing
that held me back from stomping on his throat and painting the floor red.
At the back of the room, Orion whispered into Scorpius's ear, and the blind
king shot at his feet. His high cheekbones were sharp as knives, as his face
tightened with rage on Jinx's behalf.
“Who do you want to negotiate with?” Jinx elongated each syllable like she
was talking to an infant.
Arthur opened his mouth.
“Wait, I know.” Jinx's tone was deceptively nice. “The confused civilians who
are cognitively unaware that they are infected with parasitic creatures?”
She laughed cruelly.
“Or do you want to negotiate with them when they lash out violently,
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controlled by the monsters inside them? When they scream mindlessly about
death?”
Arthur paled.
Jinx continued mercilessly, “Or perhaps you wanted to talk to them when
they're being ripped in half?” Her fake smile dropped. “No—I get it. You want to
wait to talk to the crustacean-esque creatures who each have an exoskeleton
mask for a face and six legs with pincers. The ones who rip the people in two and
emerge from their desiccated carcasses. “The ones that bleed green and are
expanding through the realms.”
Not one spoke.
Arthur put down his teacup with a loud clatter.
“Any other inane suggestions that anyone wants to waste our time with?”
Jinx spread her arms wide to the rest of the room.
“Someone didn't read the informational packet,” Sadie muttered loudly.
“Stupid airers.”
Scorpius chuckled and sat back down.
It took me a moment to realize that my best friend had come up with a
derogatory slur for the angels because they called people grounders.
I pinched the top of my nose.
I no longer supported women's rights.
Jinx turned back around and rapped her pointer against the board next to my
face. “Concentrate. “We still have a stealth problem.”
I banged my head gently (as hard as I could) against the board.
Infected with enchanted weapons, ungodly, a compound full of both. We had
to kill them all quickly and efficiently without giving them enough time to flee.

How?
I rolled the elements around in my head and considered different tactics.
Malum spoke up and sounded assured. “Orion entrances everyone with his
voice, then we eliminate them while they're unconscious.” He agreed.
“It's the only thing that makes sense.”
I hit my head harder against the board and said, “Except we don't know if you
would enter and kill all our soldiers.” Like you did with Jinx, was left unsaid as I
continued, “We've been over this. Murdering the few soldiers we have aside, we
also don't know if I can stop you again.”
“You're our Revered, and you've stopped me before,” Malum replied forcefully.
“It should have been impossible, but you did it. You're ice for a
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reason—you're destined to put out my fire when I lose control. “It makes perfect
sense.”
I cracked my forehead against the blackboard.
“Stop hurting yourself,” Malum snarled.
I hit my head harder.
A flaming hand yanked me away from the board. “What the fuck is wrong with
you?”
Did he want a list?
“Don't touch me.” I shoved at him, and for a second, we wrestled with each other.
His muscles bunched as they tense, and I intended not to notice pain streaking
across my back.
He smirked down at me as he easily countered my movements, since he was
built like a tank and at least had one hundred pounds of muscle over me.
His fire was momentarily doused by the ice that radiated off me.
Silver eyes flashed with myrth.
I loved that it was easy to overpower me.
Sun god, he was such a bully.
I kicked him in the shin with all my strength, and he squinted with pain.
When he released me, I brushed my shoulders off with as much decorum as I could
muster.
Which unfortunately, was none.
Malum winked at me. “If you wanted to put your mark on me, all you had to do
was say so. “I'd get a tattoo for you any day, ice princess.” His voice was gravelly as
he stared down at the blue streaks of ice I'd left across his sweatshirt where I'd
touched him.
I intended not to notice that he adjusted his belt.
Instead, I pressed my legs together and rubbed at my temples as I took a deep,
calming breath. “First, I'm a queen, not a princess. Second, my life's purpose is not
to put out your messes.” Ice cracked as it spread up my forearms.

He mumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like, “You can be my
princess.”
I choked on spit.
He slapped his hand on my back and said, “Careful. Go slow. Take your time
swallowing.” His expression was wicked.
Pain exploded down my spine as I realized his double understanding.
Malum trying to be seductive was a dangerous thing.
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My face flamed with heat.

“She's right,” Jinx said, and both of us snapped our attention toward her.
“If you use your powers, you could wipe out our soldiers.”
We sighed with relief.
She continued, “We can't afford to lose people because of your carelessness.
Also, all four of you passed out after she stopped you from attacking me. “You can't
risk unconsciousness in the middle of a battle.”
Malum raked his hands down his face.
Flames danced across his fingers.
“Exactly.” I acknowledged and crossed my arms over my chest protectively.
His plan was stupid, and I was smarter; it was confirmed.
Jinx continued, “Aran, you'll have to find time to practice so you can eventually
unleash your abilities in battle.” She tapped distractedly at her tablet. “We'll need
your skills as the war continues.”
“Excuse me?” I whirled around to glare at her, but she refused to look up from
her tablet.
I huffed and said sarcastically, “I'll just pencil in stopping psychotic devils in
between flying lessons and fighting the ungodly.”
“Good.” Jinx kept tapping.
Malum looked smug as he grabbed a piece of chalk and walked back to
his list of strategies. “Don't worry, we'll practice.”
“I'm not practicing anything with you,” I snarled back.
He smirked but didn't elaborate.
My lips tingled.
We both knew what would happen if we were stuck spending more time
together. There was no avoiding it.
I hadn't felt this sick since I'd learned fifty-one was divisible by
seventeen.
Jinx rotated the structure on the tablet, and it spun on the board. “If we don't
contain the perimeter, potentially hundreds or thousands could flee to the portals.
“One hundred to one million people could be living in the valley.”
My jaw dropped. “One fucking million? Are you serious?”
Jinx pushed her sunglasses up. “The structure could continue underground for
thousands for all we know. I'm being realistic.”
She wanted us to die.
There was no other explanation.
“No,” Malum countered. “We know this planet's core has a unique high
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temperature. “It is unlikely life could be sustained underground.”

“He's right.” I stood up straight.
Jinx mumbled under her breath, “The civilization could have adapted to
higher temperatures. But fine, probably four thousand people.” The edge of his
mouth curled up in a smirk.
I gaped.
Had she been making a joke?
We'd been working for so many hours that delirium was setting in, and I
honestly couldn't tell.
Movement in the back of the room caught my eye, and suddenly I wasn't
tired. My jaw clicked shut, and I said, “I know what we need to do.”
A good strategist always had multiple iterations of a plan. They also used
their best assets strategically to accomplish the hardest tasks the most efficiently.

“We're going to enslave the ungodly,” I whispered, and Jinx sat up straighter.

“Fuck. You're right,” Malum said softly, and the air beside warmed me as
he walked over beside me.
The potent scent of tobacco and whiskey flooded my senses, and I swayed
closer to the intoxicating aroma.
Bronze cheeks blushed scarlet.
A dagger glinted as he swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing.
Malum wet his lips and said softly, “I like your plan.” For a second, as he
stared down at me, harsh bronze features softened. Silver eyes seemed
pleading.
His mood swings were giving me whiplash.
The energy between us was volatile.
An ache pounded in my sternum.
“Let's draw it up.” Malum agreed at the blackboard, and I followed his
gaze as if I was in a trance.
We moved at the same time to the list, and he stepped back to let me pass.
A palm spanned across my entire lower back as he guided me to the board.
I forgot to shove him away.
His fingers burned with heat.
Goose bumps exploded across my body, and streaks of agony shot down
my spine as I stumbled away from his touch.
I expected him to get angry, but Malum stood still beside me, staring
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down at his hands as he flexed and unflexed them like he was confused.
His features sharpened, and something dark flashed in his eyes. He took a
step closer and crowded into my space so he was centimeters away from
touching me. I have never made contact.
“Write out your plan on the board, Arabella—now,” he whispered darkly.
The or else hung in the air between us.
I gulped, unsure of what was happening between us.
The reflection of flames burned in his eyes as he stared down at me, and
his bronze cheekbones flushed red.
My stomach fluttered.
The next minutes passed with horrible tension as my chalk scratched in the
mostly silent room.
Malum pointed out a few corrections, but for the most part, he loomed over
me. Every few seconds, he'd look down at the hand that had touched my lower
back and flexed it.
Was he fantasizing about lighting me on fire?
I never knew where I stood with the leader of the kings, and he never failed
to put my teeth on edge.
There was no way around the truth: he was terrifying.
“It makes sense, but the leviathans are better suited to guard the perimeter,”
Jinx said as she tapped her pointer stick against my plan, and Malum stepped
away casually like he hadn't been seconds away from losing control in a
crowded room.
I shivered and wrote down the change of personnel, too frazzled to argue
with Jinx.
Whiskey and tobacco filled my senses.
Little streaks of pain shot down my spine with each breath.
When the three of us turned to the room to present our plan, I flushed,
embarrassed that they'd seen me acting like a simpering fool around Malum.
Surprisingly, no one was paying us any attention.
The angels, shifters, and demons were all talking among themselves.
Only four men noticed.
Luka and John were both staring at me, but neither seemed annoyed,
because their expressions could only be described as adoring.
Enraptured.
Love.
In contrast, Orion sat next to them with his stunning brown eyes narrowed
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as he whispered into Scorpius's ear. The quiet king also stared, but his
expression wasn't soft and loving like the twins'; it was harsh and obsessive.
He stalked me with his eyes.
I shivered.
Orion had chased me down the marble corridor.
My exhaustion ran bone-deep.
The room's temperature became oppressive as Malum shifted so his
forearm was pressed against mine.
It was an innocent touch, yet I burned alive.
“Listen up, everyone,” Malum said loudly, and his baritone voice
reverberated through my bones. “We have a plan.”
Everyone in the room stopped talking.
Malum nodded down at me like he was letting me take charge.
I grimaced back, pressed my pipe between my lips, and inhaled greedily.
I'd never loved being the center of attention; that was more Sadie's thing. I'd
rather fade into the background. Disappear.
Public speaking was onerous, and I was already tired enough.
“This is what you're going to do,” Jinx said with authority, and I stopped
paying attention to my surroundings.
No, I didn't care that a child had more leadership skills than I did. I was too
busy enjoying my smoke.
A few minutes later, alarms were blaring inside the buildings of the war
camp. “Jinx, you stay at the camp, and Warren, you guard her,” Jax ordered as
we left the room.
We reassembled in the cafeteria.
John and Luka were frantically patting over my body, pulling at my
weapons and holsters to make sure I had everything.
I rolled my shoulders and tried to ignore the persistent ache beneath my
skin where my unused wings lay.
I pretended the floor wasn't growing icy beneath my feet.
As far as I could tell, none of the other angels radiated ice. They wielded
it expertly in the controlled form of their swords.
Jinx was tight-lipped about the whole affair, but she'd revealed the Angel
Consciousness had removed the blocks on my power because I'd proven myself
selfless enough with control over my temper.
I bit down on my lower lip until I tasted blood.
My gut churned.
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I had a feeling it wasn't normal for an angel to radiate ice. I had a bad
feeling that I wasn't in control at all.
Good thing I was an expert at coping—I ignored my problems and
pretended they didn't exist.
“You need to be alert,” Orion mouthed as he shoved a cup full of cold liquid
into my hands. “It's—”
I threw the contents back and gulped it down before he could explain.
“Iced coffee.” He narrowed his eyes, long dark lashes fluttering, as he
whispered angrily, “You shouldn't consume any substance without knowing
what's in it. “It's not safe.”
John and Luka continued checking my holsters diligently, like they were
Terrified they'd missed something.
I rolled my eyes at Orion.
The coffee was strong, and already I could feel the caffeine waking me up.
I took a long inhale from my pipe and let the combination of drugs revive my
will to live.
Jitters replaced my exhaustion, and I bounced back and forth on the balls
of my feet.
Jax and Malum shouted the plan's directions to all the soldiers.
“Can I have a second coffee?” I held out the empty cup to Orion as Luka
checked my earpiece.
"No." Scorpius seemed to appear out of nowhere. “Take that pipe out of
your mouth or I'll rip it out.”
Sometimes I thought the blind king was calmer and more approachable
than Malum. Other times, he was abrasive and cruel. Scathing.
Like a bad trip.
Luka moved with a blur pushed and me behind him, darkness glimmering
around him.
“Don't speak to her like that,” John said in an annoying tone as he checked
my bullet cartridges. “But he's not wrong, Aran. “Put the pipe away.”
Scorpius smirked maliciously and sized up John like he was seeing him
for the first time. “Don't tell me what to do.”
John glared and drove his shoulder into Scorpius's side. “Oops,” he said
sarcastically.
A muscle in Scorpius's jaw ticked. “Be careful, human. “You don't want to
mess with me.”
Instead of backing down from the devil, who was half a head taller than
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him, John scoffed. “I'll do what I want.”

Scorpius arched a brow, clearly unused to other men challenging him. “Is
that so?” he asked wickedly.
I grabbed John's shoulders and pulled him away from the sadistic bastard
who would tear him to pieces. “Can you not start a fight right now?” I asked him.

John grumbled, “I wouldn't just start a fight, I'd end one.”

Scorpius barked with laughter like the idea of John beating him was
hilarious, and I grimaced because I had to side with the king on this one.
“You're going to be the death of me,” I groaned.
John pulled on my ponytail. “Cheer up, little Smurf. Before you know it, the
ungodly will be dead and we'll be back here hanging out. Rumor has it the High
Court is going to let us party to blow off steam.” He wiggled his eyebrows up
and down suggestively. “Plenty of drugs to do later.”
He pretended to smoke an imaginary cigarette, and I laughed at how
ridiculous he looked.
Scorpius muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously
like, “I have something you can blow.”
We ignored him.
“Fine, but I want demon brew,” I said.
John Winked. “Of course.”
“And I want to…” I trailed off and mimicked him by wiggling my eyebrows.

John's lips curled in a mischievous smile, and he pressed a soft kiss to my

lips. “Anything for you, darling,” he breathed into my mouth.
I tasted sandalwood and musk.
His lips were soft and warm.
Familiar.
Luka stroked the back of my head as his twin kissed me.
The pain that scoured my back was so strong it was like being dosed in ice
water.
Scorpius made a harsh noise in his throat, and when I looked over, he was
flushed. Strange.
Orion gritted his teeth.
My skin prickled, and the pain intensified.
A spiteful part of me enjoyed knowing that the kings were watching me kiss
John.
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I wanted them to see what they would never have.

I wanted them to hurt like they'd hurt me.
Backing away from John, I acknowledged. “Let's do this.”
I pulled the black elastic hood up and over my head, then tugged it low so it
covered my entire face. The material appeared solid from the outside, but it was
deceptively breathable and easy to see through.
Everyone did the same.
Clad head to toe in black, we became shadows with no discernible features.

In the middle of the room, Jax counted down from ten, and everyone gathered
around the RJE devices. The twins grabbed my hands, and Orion grabbed my arm.

Sharp nails pressed through cloth into the back of my neck, and I started at the
intrusive touch. Pain traveled across my nerves and flared down my spine.

“Stay close, my Revered,” Scorpius whispered against the shell of my

ear. “Don't forget the bond sickness.”
I shivered.
As if I could ever forget my shackles.
Crack.
We disappeared.
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Chapter 9
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Aran
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BATTLE

BALEFUL (ADJECTIVE): foreboding or threatening evil.

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DAY 1, HOUR 4

“Stay low.” Jax's voice cracked in my earpiece as we moved through the empty
courtyard.
Festive bells were strung across the yard, and they tinkled prettily in the icy
wind.
They grated across my nerves.
Our attacking group was composed of the champions, the generals, and
the four women of the assassin legion, who slithered through the shadows of
night.
They were nothing more than a blur.
None of us were.
We were the only one going inside the compound, since our soldiers were
the strongest and largely had no idea the numbers we'd be coming up against.
We had the best chance of escaping if need be.
The rest of the foot soldiers were currently creeping through the valley
and creating a perimeter to ensure none of the infected got away.
Jax and Sadie led our group forward.
I was in the back, surrounded by shadows.
The twins guarded my front, and the kings guarded my back. Intensity
radiated off them as they slunk silently through the snowy night.
Dread slithered down my spine.
The Necklace of Death pulsed, warm, against my sternum like it was trying
to reassure me.
It didn't work.
I breathed shakily.
As soon as we'd RJE'd and climbed over the high wall of the empty
courtyard, the men's energy had changed. Even John was different.
They'd shed their masks of civility. They were no longer the men I spent
my days arguing and laughing with.
They were draconian, more killers than men.
And I was one of them.
We were like the soulmancers of lore, a people so deadly and terrifying
they were more myth than reality.
The monsters of all monsters.
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Air left my lips in frosty puffs. Thighs trembling, sweat streaking down my
forehead, I squatted low and moved swiftly with daggers clenched between
frozen fingers.
My eyes watered from the frozen air.
Snow drifted down lazily, and I blinked to clear the wetness off my
eyelashes.
The pine trees in the courtyard were wrapped in fairy lights, and the
distracting shards of light streaked across my peripheral vision. Bricks were
warm beneath my heavy combat boots.
Tendrils of steam evaporated into the starry night.
Jax's voice was loud and crisp through my earpiece as he whispered,
“There are four entrance points. Everyone stays as a group like we planned.
Sadie in the front, and not splitting up. “Follow me.”
We entered the compound and walked directly into a long, windowless
brick corridor.
I shivered as the temperature plummeted and a heavy stone floor blocked
the steam and heat from the ground. The only light was flickering torches.
It was musty.
Damp.
Insidious.
My lungs rattled loudly in the still, and I held my breath.
[Link]. Six. Nine. Eleven. Thirteen. Fifteen. Seventeen. I counted in
odd numbers as we moved silently, a unit of highly trained murderers.
There were no doors, and we appeared to be inside an endless stretch of
silent corridor. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought we were in an
abandoned building.
Goose bumps broke out across the back of my neck. How could anyone
live in this austere, rank atmosphere?
From the quiet, the infected must have a lunar sleep cycle.
At the front of the group, Jax stopped suddenly and held up his hand.
Surrounded by darkness, I could barely make out him signaling that the
corridor branched off up ahead.
We followed him as he made a sharp right.
We moved silently.
Deeper into the compound.
I scanned the corridors, but there didn't appear to be any doors or signs of
life, which made no sense.
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The quiet expanded until I could hear the frantic pounding of my heart in
my ears as blood mixed with adrenaline.
Sweat poured down my sides.
My fingers cramped around the hilts of my daggers.
“Did you see something?” an accented foreign voice asked loudly, and all
of us stopped moving.
Another accented voice responded, “What are you talking about?”
Down the dark hall, two streaks of glowing blue approached where we
waited in the shadows.
It was the infected.
We crouched lower, nobody twitched, and nobody breathed.
“Now, Sadie,” Jax whispered quietly over the radio as we followed the plan.

My toes cramped as I squatted lower, muscles trembling. I was shaking,

and it had nothing to do with exertion.
As the blue glow drew closer, I made out the outline of two figures.
The infected started to run towards us.
One of them shouted, “What is—”
“STOP!” Sadie yelled, and the man never got out his question.
The two infected stopped moving—they were frozen, Sadie's blood
coursing through their veins and taking them over from the inside out.
They didn't move.
They didn't speak.
“Everyone, move closer,” Jax ordered, and we approached as a unit.
“It's hard to hold them,” Sadie said over the radio through gritted teeth.
“It must be the ungodly within them. I can only use these two.”
“Don't you dare overexert yourself,” Cobra whispered back angrily.
Sadie scoffed, “I'm fine.”
“You better not hurt yourself.”
“You better shut up.”
“We're not doing this right now,” Jax snarled, and the line went silent.
The two infected held glowing blue swords that were pointed directly at
us.
I stumbled back instinctively.
The infected turned like mindless zombies and positioned themselves at
the front of our group, spinning their swords, a glowing blue blur in the darkness.
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They were on our side now, enslaved fully by Sadie's blood powers.
They led us forward.
Deeper.
Into the compound.
We followed the corridors into the structure. Their swords whooshed as they
sliced through the air. Tension gradually released as we explored and didn't find
any more infected. The sprawling structure appeared to be mostly abandoned.

Our plan was overkill.

This is going to be an easy mission.
As soon as the positive thought flickered through my mind, shouts erupted,
and infected appeared seemingly out of nowhere.
Blue swords clashed.
Ink dripped off the demons and formed black swords as the angels unleashed
their swords of ice.
Someone screamed as they went up in flames.
Daggers whistled through the air.
Crystal wings flapped.
An animal roared.
The kings disarmed the infected and ripped them apart with their bare
hands; bones snapped as necks broke.
The twins were equally vicious.
There was a grotesque ripping sound followed by the splatter of water. Yo
stumbled as a familiar, awful chittering sound echoed down the corridor.
It hadn't been water.
It was blood.
The ungodly were here.

I staggered tiredly as I rounded a corner, slipping on a patch of ice—a trail of

cobalt spread beneath my feet and created a path behind me.
I had no idea why I was shedding ice, and I had seemingly no way to stop
Item.

For the millionth time, I concentrated and imagined the cold forming into an
ice sword.
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I slipped as more cobalt spread out beneath my feet.

No sword formed.
Frustration welled, and I wanted to scream. My gut told me this was yet
another gift from my messed-up heritage.
Far away, a bear roared.
I stopped to listen, then turned and ran toward the sound.
The kings must be nearby, because the bond sickness hadn't hit, but the
compound was a confusing maze of corridors and hidden rooms. We'd explored
most of them, but more kept popping up out of nowhere.
It was exhausting.
Another roar made the stones vibrate beneath me.
I could hear the shifters fighting, but I couldn't find them.
I was alone.
“Scorpius!” I yelled into the darkness because he had the best chance of
finding me amid the chaos of the battle.
Another faraway roar, but no one responded to my plea.
The men must have been on the other side of the wall, in the large room
filled with hundreds of people where the sounds of heavy fighting were still
concentrated.
Acting without thought, I threw myself against the closest corridor wall. Yo
groaned as fresh pain agitated the many battle wounds I was sporting.
Sun god, that had been a stupid idea.
I low-key loved that I thought I could just throw myself through a heavily
fortified brick wall and it would break. Where did that confidence come from?

Limping, trembling with exhaustion, body bruised and aching, I forced

myself to keep running forward.
I needed to find everyone.
It had all been going to plan—we'd been fighting as a group and staying
together as we traveled deeper into the compound.
I'd cut down infected and ungodly with the twins at my front and the kings at
my back.
I'd dodged—they'd attacked.
They'd dodged—I'd thrust.
On repeat.
For hours.
We'd picked up the discarded weapons of the infected, and all of us had
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fought with the most dangerous enchanted swords while the infected screamed
and ungodly screeched in the darkness.
It had been hard to discern the locations of my teammates as they'd
moved like shadows around our foe.
It had been messy.
Disturbing.
I'd only used the sword and had hesitated to fly daggers because I couldn't
ensure that I wouldn't hit someone on my side. It had been hours of close combat.

My arms had trembled from exertion.

Then, about an hour ago, a sudden explosion had collapsed a portion of the
large room where the fighting was concentrated, and my earpiece had fallen out.

Enchanted swords had swung through the rubble in a blur of bodies.

Ungodly had screeched and attacked beside them.
I'd stumbled out into a hall.
I'd barely had time to throw a dagger at an ungodly's neck as I'd
brandished my enchanted sword.
The ungodly had surrounded me.
Dust had been in my eyes, and bricks had been falling.
Bedlam.
I'd turned and sprinted, fighting off ungodly as they chased after me as I
ran into the dark. It was disorienting.
The building was a maze of overlapping narrow halls. False walls and dead
ends.
That was about an hour ago.
In the present, I sprinted around yet another corner, struggling to breathe as
frustration made me panicky.
Squelsh. I kicked something wet.
Torches flickered and illuminated the streaks of gore and entrails that
covered the corridor.
Had I already run past that severed head? Was I going in circles?
I kept running forward, refusing to look down at the severed body parts
stretched over the stone floor like discarded clothes.
The stench was awful.
Gore covered mostly everything in the compound.
Every hidden room.
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Corridor.
Crack and crevice.
I struggled to breathe, and ice cracked as it spread out around me and encased the
body parts.
“Stay calm, find the rest of the team,” Jinx's voice echoed fuzzily in my head.

Part of me was convinced I was hallucinating her voice and I just wanted it to be our
guardian-angel connection.
I was lost.
Bond sickness made me queasy, but it wasn't unimaginable pain, which
meant the kings still had to be nearby.
I was most likely running in some sort of circle outside the big room where the battle
was concentrated. What didn't make sense was that I should have run around and found
the entrance by now.
The only logical explanation was I was going in a circle.
A scream bubbled up my throat.
Stupid corridors.
I ran faster through the dark, stumbling and desperate. Panicky.
If only I could find them.
A bone-chilling bear's roar echoed louder than before.
Shadows stretched and contorted around me as the silence smothered.
I was losing my mind.
Without sunlight, I couldn't tell if we'd been fighting for hours or days.
The compound housed thousands of people, and the battle felt never-ending.
It didn't help that almost every infected person was armed.
I was lost in a sprawling compound filled with trained warriors.
A mecca of ungodly.
My foot cramped in my boot as I turned another corner, arches burning as
I searched desperately for a door out of the maze.
I slipped again but kept my eyes straight ahead as I intended not to see the streaks
of gore in my peripheral vision.
The corridor was gleaming in cobalt ice.
I was losing control.
Walls and floors melted as my vision blurred. Everything was spinning.
I was losing my mind.
I turned down another dark corridor, then skidded to a stop, then doubled
back—it was the outline of another hidden door.
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Tightening my core, I kicked and prayed it was an entrance to the main

battle where I'd lost my teammates. I prayed the men were inside.
Wood splintered, and it whipped open.
I was wrong.
An infected woman screamed and swung a sword at my face.
My reflexes were the only thing that saved me as I brandished my stolen
weapon.
My stomach sank as I took in the cramped dark bedroom.
Sparks flew as steel banged together, and I towered above my foe, taller
and stronger. I easily overpowered the infected and pushed my sword closer to
her neck.
Her features glowed in the blue light of our enchanted swords.
Innocent eyes were wide with fear. “Why?” the woman whispered brokenly.

A screaming sound started in my head.

My vision wavered.
There was a scraping sound, and I whirled my head to the right to find more
women hiding behind her. They were unarmed.
My mind fractured.
“II,” I said uselessly, my voice hoarse from hours of exertion. It didn't matter
anyway; there was nothing I could say.
My limbs went numb.
I drowned in air. It felt like I'd plunged into a lake and it had frozen, crushing
my organs.
Jinx said inside my head, “Calm yourself, they are already…” Her voice
warbled and disappeared.
The woman pressed her glowing sword back toward my neck, and I
couldn't find the strength to resist. I hunched low so we were at eye level.
Her sword hovered inches from my face, sizzling with the blue
enchantment that sliced through bone like butter.
She pushed me backward across the room.
I was powerless to stop her.
Time warped.
The dark room and glowing blue swords faded into shades of morbid gray
as a hush descended over the world and blanketed me in stillness.
Outside in the hall, a familiar male voice shouted, but it was an indiscernible
garble.
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The woman said something, but I couldn't hear.

I was lost.
In the haze.
The woman must have realized I wasn't fighting, because suddenly she
pulled her sword back and thrust it forward.
The descent happened in slow motion. Millions of seconds of possibilities
and avenues of action unfolded before me.
I was emotionless.
Unfeeling.
The haze took everything.
I was numb.
In my imagination, I raised my sword and gutted my attacker before she could
land a blow, and then I killed the ungodly as it ripped from her flesh. I killed
everyone in the room.
In reality, I didn't move.
“You'll always be weak,” Mother said as I screamed on the palace floor.
“You'll never amount to anything. “You'll never be like me.”
A towering shadow burst into the room and watched as the steel sliced
through my skin, and relief filled my lungs.
Silver eyes glowed through a black hood.
I didn't know if not killing her made me good or evil; all I knew was it made
me feel less like Mother.
In slow motion—I crumbled toward the ground.
Terrible agony screamed along my neurons, and my eyes watered as I
crashed to the stone floor. It echoed like it was hollow. It was warm. I was glacial.

If I were anything less than the reigning Queen of the Fae, I would have been
blacked out.
I stayed awake.
It had all happened in a split second—and Malum had seen it all.
Four other men burst into the room behind him, but they were too late.
Only he knew.
The woman backed up, her green-tinted eyes widened with fear, and she
opened her mouth.
She exploded in scarlet flames. Then, so did everyone else in the room.
Mouths open, they wrote helplessly against merciless flames.
Paralyzed with pain, I could do nothing but watch in horror as they boiled
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to death.
Ungodly torn from the flaming flesh of innocents and towered to the
rafters. Pincers clacked as their six arms attacked.
Fire danced across their patches of exoskeleton harmlessly.
Five men stalked toward them.
Enchanted swords swung in a glowing blur as they carved the ungodly to
pieces—the tallest shadow ripped their heads off with their bare hands as
flames shot from their fingertips.
I choked on copper as it dribbled out my mouth, and everything spun faster.

Psychogenic dissonance devoured me.

I spat up blood.
Someone fell, and shadows fell to their knees around me.
Everything whirled.
Head lolled back like a corpse, I could do nothing but hang helplessly as
the shadow who tore the ungodly's heads off carried me against his chest
through the maze of halls.
I closed my eyes.
Time twisted.
Chilly air slapped against my skin, and I opened my eyes to see the dark
sky.
Malum ripped off his black hood, flames leaping off his head.
I thought I'd seen him angry.
I hadn't.
Molten silver eyes flashed with so much rage I could feel it radiating in
waves as Malum snarled inches from my face, “I'm going to kill you for this.”

So much for hoping he hadn't realized what he'd seen.

He was fully aware that I'd made a choice.
Watery blood dripped from my eyes as the corner of my lips curled upward
in a mocking smirk.
Who was going to tell him?
I was already dead.
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Chapter 10
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Orion
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FATE

ORPHIC (ADJECTIVE): fascinating, entrancing.

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DAY 2, HOUR 20

“Where is she?” I screamed to my mates as we dodged the razor-sharp pincers

of an ungodly as we fought in the melee.
Petals drifted across my neck.
I was seconds from losing control.
For the last forty hours, we'd slaughtered every infected we'd come
across. Thousands of them.
We were thorough.
Unrelenting.
Exacting.
When there were less than a hundred infected left, we'd chased them
through the halls and they'd fled into an expansive room.
The last stronghold.
It appeared to be the compound's living space because there were four
stone fireplaces and excessive furniture.
Now smoke filled the windowless space. Velvet chairs and sofas were
broken into pieces and scattered about.
Bodies were everywhere, discarded swords lying beside their torn corpses.

Weapons clashed.
A hair-raising roar echoed. Jax was partially shifted; he had a bear's head
and razor-sharp claws. Infected dropped around him as he swiped.
Cobra was covered in writing shadow snakes, and they were all over the
room, biting infected and sending them to their knees, screaming.
Otherworldly wings clattered as the angels hovered on the ceiling and
stabbed downward into the fray. They'd ditched their ice swords in favor of the
lighter, easier-to-wield enchanted swords.
The room was chaos.
Pieces from the paintings that had once filled every inch of wall space
smoldered as they fell like rain.
The dying screamed.
Our plan had been going perfectly until someone had detonated an
incendiary device. When the dust had cleared, Arabella was missing.
She had to be nearby, but for some reason, we couldn't find her.
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It was maddening.
Our Revered had disappeared.
The tether on my control was fraying precariously, and I couldn't remember
why I held myself back from unleashing my voice and slaughtering the world.

Why did I care?

My vocal cords ached to be used.
I chucked a dagger at an ungodly as I dropped to my knees, and Scorpius
swung an enchanted sword where I'd stood. Blood splattered. I have sliced two
infected clean in half.
Ungodly torn from their flesh, but Corvus tore their heads off before they
could stand tall. Scarlet flames poured off him as he threw the severed heads
down onto the red-and-green rug and stomped.
At one point, the rug had been white.
Corvus tipped his head back and grew like a beast. He'd dropped his
weapons when we'd realized Arabella had disappeared, and he'd been fighting
with his bare hands ever since.
He was no longer a soldier.
He was an Ignis whose Revered was missing—a feral creature.
Arabella had to be nearby because the bond sickness hadn't incapacitated
any of us, but we'd searched every corner of the large living space where the
fighting was concentrated.
She wasn't beneath the piles of corpses.
We'd checked.
“Where the fuck is she?” I whisper-yelled as we stabbed, lunged, and
dodged in unison.
Panic mounted every second she didn't appear.
Cherry blossom petals drifted faster across my collarbone, and I gritted my
teeth as gore splattered across my face.
Five minutes. If we didn't find her in the next five minutes, I was
my powers, and I didn't care if we slaughtered our own soldiers.
They could all die.
“Is Aran with you?” one of the twins shouted as they punched an infected
man, stabbed him in the heart, then sliced the emerging ungodly in half.
“No,” Scorpius snarled as he spun and kicked. “We can't find her.”
The twins stopped moving. Clad in all black, they seemed to disappear
into the shadows as the battle raged around them.
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“Excuse me,” Luka said vehemently, “where the fuck is my wife?”

I was startled by his voice because he never spoke; it was deeper than his
twin's.
“She's not your wife yet,” Corvus replied harshly. “Arabella is unmated
and unbonded.” Flames multiplied on his shoulders.
John scoffed as he gutted an infected. “Keep my wife's name out of your
mouth.”
Corvus grew viciously as he grabbed an infected woman's face and snapped
her head to the side like he was imagining it was the twins'. She dropped dead. I
have repeated the motion with the ungodly. Green gore covered his arms.

Flames poured off his fingers and set the rug aflame.
“She has to be nearby,” I said to the twins. “Because the bond sickness hasn't
set in.”
Scorpius dropped his sword and unsheathed serrated daggers.
He stabbed at one of the remaining male soldiers repeatedly but didn't kill him.
He knelt close, arms and torso painted red, as the man wrote and screamed
beneath him.
He didn't stop.
I watched him mutilate the man with disinterest.
We were unraveling.
Being separated from Arabella was like taking a bullet to the skull. despues de
a lifetime we'd spent searching for her, she wasn't allowed to leave us.
If we didn't find her soon, the ungodly would seem tame in comparison to what
we'd do, because the sun god himself couldn't save the realms from
us.
“We've checked the entire room. We don't know where the fuck she can
be!” Corvus bellowed with frustration to the twins.
All five of us looked around desperately as we fought.
Even with her clad in black from head to toe, we would recognize Arabella
because her long legs and lean muscle definition were uniquely hers. No other
woman compared.
She was our Revered.
Our soul.
We'd recognize her with our eyes closed and ears covered.
One of the twins pointed at the hole in the wall. “Is she out in the hall?”
I shook my head. “We looked and didn't see her.” I stomped on the
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exoskeleton of an ungodly and wished this stupid compound didn't have so many hidden
rooms and corridors.
Scorpius abruptly stood up straight and buried his dagger in the heart of his victim. He
didn't bother to kill the ungodly that sprang from the corpse; Instead, he whirled around and
stalked toward the far corner of the room.
I killed the ungodly as the four of us followed him.
When he got to the corner of the room, Scorpius pushed his ear up against the brick
wall beside the broken paintings.
We waited.
“I can hear her breathing!” I have yelled over the fighting. “There must be a different
corridor along the perimeter of this side of the room. “I think we should—”

Corvus slammed his fists through the bricks, and debris fell from the ceiling as he
pummeled through the wall with nothing but brute strength and rage. He slammed his body
forward.
The wall exploded, and he stumbled into a dimly lit hall.
We followed.
Scorpius shoved past him and stilled with his mask-covered head cocked
to the side as I have listened.
We all heard a scream.
Corvus exploded with unbelievable speed, and the rest of us followed close behind.

Up ahead, I turned into a room.

A few seconds later, we followed him inside.
A dozen infected clustered in the corner, hiding, and an enchanted sword
pointed toward us, dripping red.
I stilled.
Inhaled.
The copper scent was underlaid with something familiar, an icy scent
tinged with power and death. It tasted like adrenaline on my tongue.
It was Arabella's blood.
I opened my mouth to scream as cherry blossoms floated in the air around me. Before
I could unleash my voice, the room's inhabitants exploded in red flames.

If I weren't shaking with fear and rage, I would have been amazed that
Corvus had unleashed so much fire outside of our powers being activated.
There wasn't time to think.
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Ungodly shrieked as they ripped from the flaming corpses, and we

launched forward as a group, slaughtering them.
There was movement in my peripheral vision, and my heart stopped beating.

I ran toward the figure.

Crouching low, I screamed as I applied pressure to Arabella's sliced-open
abdomen.
No no no.
The original plan was not to leave the compound until the last ungodly was
slaughtered.
My Ignis lifted Arabella in his arms and sprinted down the halls, faster
than he'd ever moved, as if death himself chased us.
We broke protocol and followed behind him.
The battle was almost won anyway.
Our footsteps were thunderous as we sprinted as a group.
Our Revered was our priority.
Finally, we stumbled out of the compound, back into the darkness of the
night, and we were in the courtyard.
Fairy lights twinkled in the trees.
Corvus passed Arabella's limp form into my arms, then he gently pulled off
her hood.
I pressed a kiss to her icy forehead and cradled her against my chest as I
prayed to the sun god.
The others surrounded us.
Blood and gore stained the dusting of snow beneath our feet, then melted
into a mess.
Bells tinkled.
Snowflakes drifted softly around us and kissed Arabella's unnaturally pale
cheeks.
Corvus ripped off his hood, and his eyes were on fire.
He leaned close so his harsh bronze features were inches from hers, then
he snarled harshly, “I'm going to kill you for this.”
I stiffened and pulled her closer to my chest protectively.
What was he playing at?
My Protector instincts flared. How dare he speak to our Revered like that?
How dare I disrespect her so callously?
It was sacrilegious.
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Arabella's lips, which were turning blue from blood loss, curled up into a mocking
smirk, and she mouthed, “Go fuck yourself.” Her skin was a disturbing shade of gray.

My Ignis smiled, tipped his head back, and bowed to the night sky.
Flames shot from his mouth like a dragon.
Scorpius grabbed Corvus's flaming shoulders and said, “Get the fuck away from her.
What is wrong with you?” He voiced my thoughts as he pulled our Ignis away from our
precious Revered.
The twins ripped off their hoods and formed a protective shield with their bodies.

“Are you okay?” one of them whispered to Arabella and stroked her cheek.

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Clearly, I'm fine.” Even bleeding out with a thick
wound, she was sarcastic.
I would have laughed if my insides weren't curdled with fear.
A dimple appeared on the twin's cheek. It was John, and he poked her
I don't know. “Little Smurf idiot got stabbed.”
Arabella struggled in my hold like she was going to fight him.
I tightened my grip as agitation flared sharply in my gut because
everyone was acting deranged and she was bleeding out in my arms.
“We need to get her help!” I shouted as I backed away from the other men. “Who the
fuck has the RJE?” My voice was loud and raw, power sizzling in my veins.

Everyone stopped moving.

I'd entered them.
Arabella was the only one unaffected; she squirmed against my chest and stared up
at me, her wide navy eyes misted with shock. She no longer radiated cold, and her
presence felt small in my arms.
I studied every curve and plane of her face.
The jagged scar beneath her eye and the dark circles from exhaustion
enhanced the otherworldly nature of her beauty.
She was the only person in all the realms who was completely unaffected by my
voice. While I didn't enthrall Corvus and Scorpius, my voice still triggered my mates'
powers.
Arabella seemed completely unaffected.
She was perfect—she was also seriously injured.
Unable to help myself, I leaned forward and pressed another kiss to her
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forehead. “I will never leave your side, ever again,” I promised huskily.
Her skin was unnaturally cold beneath my lips.
“I don't forgive you,” she breathed out with a harsh rattle.
Snow gathered in the curls that stuck out around her head in a fluffy halo.
I held her tighter against my chest and whispered, “I know, sweetheart.
“You don't have to.”
She won but pressed her face into my shoulder. Her hand spread across
my chest, and her fingers curled.
Bells tinkled, and snow drifted.
No one else existed in all the realms but the two of us.
Seconds expanded. The ground beneath my boots metaphysically shook as
an onslaught of emotions battered me.
Something tender spread between us.
It was the same feeling I had when I'd realized what her name meant.
The science behind soulmates was nebulous because the unique
composition of an individual's soul changed how the bond interacted.
I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and held her close.
Startling clarity gripped me. It wasn't a coincidence that she was the only
person I could speak to freely.
It was fate.
We were destined.
I clutched her against my chest as snow kissed our cheeks and steam rose
around our feet.
Fate had brought us together.
The moment broke as the men stalked toward us as the compulsion ended.

“I have an RJE,” Corvus said as he answered my original question.

A device whirled.
All four of them lunged toward Arabella at once.
Crack.
I staggered but held both of us upright as I fought off the dizziness of
traveling through space.
Shaking my head once, I turned and ran through the quiet forest, down
the path. I cut through trees so I could get to the medical barracks quicker.
Throwing myself inside, I laid Arabella down on the first white cot. One
of the twins collapsed on his knees by his side and grabbed his hand.
He whispered to her quietly.
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Corvus screamed for the doctors. Cherry blossoms floated around me

Revered and covered her stomach, like they were trying to heal her.
The doctors gasped as they took in her ruined stomach.
“Enchanted sword wound.” A doctor shook his head. “It's too much damage.”

An empty bed exploded in flames.

Scorpius was suddenly standing beside the doctor with a dagger pressed
to his throat. “Fix her or die.”
The doctor's eyes widened with fear.
Arabella tried to say something, but all that came out was a low whimper of
pain.
Shock was wearing off, and she was starting to feel her injury. She'd only
have a few more minutes before she was screaming in agony.
I clenched my fists.
“Stop it.” Luka pulled Scorpius away from the incompetent doctor.
Cherry blossoms formed a whirlwind.
“Don't you know who Aran is?” Luka asked Scorpius, and I realized it was
the first time he'd ever looked at one of us in the eyes as he spoke. He looked
at the three of us like we were pathetic. “She's the Queen of the Fae Realm.”

We stared back.
Scorpius stabbed the trembling doctor in the thigh and asked, “So?”
The incompetent doctor fell to the ground, screaming.
Luka swore and dragged his hands roughly through his messy dark hair.
“Aran can't die without someone ripping out her heart and eating it.”
A faint memory of Aran lying in a marble hall explaining fae succession
played at the edge of my mind, but I was too stressed to remember it clearly.
“Are you sure?” Corvus sounded unconvinced.
The doctor whimpered, and everyone ignored her.
“Of course he is,” John said, darkness glittering around him. “She used to
complain about it constantly back at Elite Academy. “You'd know that if you
ever bothered to listen to her.”
Violence ratcheted up.
Tensions sizzled.
The stabbed doctor staggered to his feet and cleaned through the door that
led to the back room of the medical building.
The five of us were locked in a staring contest. Darkness expanded
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around Luka, and flames leaped higher off Corvus's shoulders.

Another doctor burst through the same door, holding vials of different-
colored substances. He hurried to the bed and leaned over Arabella as he
brought one to her lips.
The tension broke as everyone whirled toward him.
“What the fuck are you giving her?” Corvus snarled as Luka asked, “What
is that?”
Scorpius lunged forward with his knife drawn.
I grabbed my fellow Protector by his neck and yanked him back.
The colorful vials clattered in the doctor's shaking hand. “II-It's for p-pain
and w-will help her ss-sleep and heal,” he stuttered.
John ripped the glass from his fingers and sniffed it.
He tipped it back and wet his lips, licked at the substance, then agreed
and said, “He's not lying.”
“Then what the fuck are you waiting for?” Corvus bellowed at the doctor.
“Administer it now, she's clearly in pain!”
Luka snapped, “But do it gently.”
I raised my eyebrows because the quiet twin didn't talk to anyone besides
John and Arabella; now he was fighting with Corvus and addressing a doctor.
The doctor reached for John's hands, but the twin pulled the vial out of his
reach and pressed it to Arabella's gray lips.
Immediately she stopped squirming and whimpering.
Her eyes closed.
A few minutes later, the doctor pushed a clipboard with hastily sprawled
instructions into John's hands and told him to administer her drugs as he ran
out of the room.
Pussy.
“You sure she'll heal?” I whispered as my knees went out at the edge of her
cot.
"Forks." John didn't look away from her.
Gradually, my mates and Luka knelt along the bed as our collective panic
and aggression decreased until there was nothing but silence and Arabella's
strained breaths.
I bowed my head and swore on the ancient House of Malum—on the crest
of a fire-breathing dragon, on the tender feeling that had engulfed me when I'd
held her against my chest—that she would find shelter with me.
My Revered would find peace in my arms.
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It didn't matter that we were champions in the middle of a war. It didn't

matter that I was a soulless creature who had hurt her in the past.
Arabella would find sanctuary with me.
Forever.
Bang. The doors to the medical barracks flung open, and dozens of gore-
coated soldiers stumbled in.
Doctors swarmed like mosquitoes.
The battle was over.
Quiet was replaced by groans of pain as men and women collapsed onto
cots. A man was carried in screaming.
White floors turned red, and doctors slipped as they rushed to patients.
Arabella slept through the chaos.
I prayed.
“Oh my sun god, is she okay?” Sadie screeched as she fell to her knees
Beside my Revered's bed.
I glared at her and bemoaned my inability to speak. All of us bristled as the
white-haired woman stared down at our woman with wide, worried eyes.
Corvus solved my problem by growing, “Get the fuck away from her.
“She's not yours.”
Instead of Sadie obeying, her eyes glowed neon red.
She bared her teeth like a wild animal. A warning growl rattled in her chest
as she said, “She's my best friend, so you better fucking watch yourself.
“I know her better than all of you, and I'll be by her side long after she's done
with you.”
I narrowed my eyes, and my stomach churned at her words.
“Shit, what happened to her?” Cobra hissed as he staggered over to Sadie.
His arm was gushing blood from a stab wound, but he pressed a hand over it
and ignored the doctor trying to get him to sit down.
The shifters were a virus.
“Worry about your own people,” Scorpius said, his jaw clenched as he traced
his fingertips softly over Arabella's arm.
Cobra's pupils narrowed into slits, and his eyes glowed like his mates.
The jewels embedded in his skin turned into writing black shadow snakes and
gave him the appearance of a madman.
What my Revered saw in these animals was beyond my comprehension.
“She isssss my people,” Cobra hissed angrily at Scorpius, and he took a
step closer to the bed like he wanted to fight.
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Flames sizzled across Malum's shoulders, and he stood up and blocked

Cobra's view of Scorpius and Arabella. The shadow snakes wrote faster across
his skin, and flames leaped higher.
On the bed beside us, a man screamed as his nose was stitched back on.
“What happened to Aran?” the posh shifter Xerxes asked as he walked over
and stood beside his mates. “Jax and Ascher are getting stitched up but they
are going to be fine.” He stared down at my Revered and furrowed his brow.
“Why is Aran not awake?”
John sighed loudly. “For sun god's sake. She took an enchanted sword to
the stomach, but she just needs time to recover.”
A tense moment passed.
“Are you sure nothing happened to her heart?” Sadie asked with concern,
the glow receding from her eyes.
“I'm sure,” John snapped at her with anxiety. “We wouldn't be sitting
here calmly if something had. Or are you questioning my loyalty to her?”
“Maybe I am?” Sadie snarled.
He glared daggers at her.
A long, tense moment passed.
Finally, Sadie said, “We'll come back later when the men aren't being
psychos around her.” She tugged her mates away.
Cobra glared back at us with malevolent snake eyes as he let his mate pull
him away.
I scowled back.
She was ours, not theirs.
They'd learn it soon enough.
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Chapter 11
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Aran
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NIGHTMARES

LOUCH (ADJECTIVE): not reputable or decent.

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DAY 4, HOUR 18

“We have destroyed all the infected,” I said as I stood at attention in the strategy room
—I didn't remember volunteering to speak.
Everything was blurred.
Shadows and shapes bared their teeth and swallowed me whole.
My back was ramrod straight.
Arms behind my back.
Legs wide.
Head bent in deference.
The champions and generals stood beside me, all of us in a neat, obedient line
before Dick, who was projected onto the chalkboard. Lothaire and the mysterious
cloaked man flanked him on either side.
Lothaire's singular eye was focused on me, and he nodded as if he was
giving me strength. “Are you okay?” I have mouthed.
I agreed back discreetly, then focused on Dick.
It felt like someone else was speaking as I continued to give the report.
“The battle spilled out into the perimeter, but the foot soldiers secured the valley—to
our knowledge, no infected escaped. A map of the realm was retrieved from the battle.
It does not contain coordinates, but shows there are three more compounds in the
realm. The angels will use it as their guide.”
“Good,” Dick said casually like we were talking about the weather. “Was
“Is there anything else on the map?”
He gestured at the screen, and the projection warped around his wrist and
revealed a gold cuff, but when he went still, the skin on his wrist was bare.
Great, now I was seeing things.
“The map? Was there anything else on it?” Dick repeated with a harsher tone,
and I realized he was waiting for me to answer.
I squinted.
There was a spot on the map that had been suspicious, but why would the High
Court know that? And if they did, why would they ask about it like they didn't have
knowledge?
A tension migraine throbbed behind my eyes.
"Forks." I chose my words carefully. “There are strange words written across the
settlement located farthest north. It appears to be some type of
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foreign language.”
Dick's expression remained blank as he ordered, “Scan the map on the
tablet. “We'll have our linguists look into it.”
I pointed out, “It might be nothing, but there are Xs over the mountains
outside the valley.”
Dick looked annoyed. “An artistic choice most likely. Let's focus on
strategizing in helpful ways.”
Agitation skittered down my spine at his dismissive tone.
“Yes, sir,” I said through gritted teeth as I lowered my head and stared at
the floor.
Annoyance melted into exhaustion.
“Overall, this is excellent work.” Dick's patronizing tone grated on my
nerves. “It looks like you're a fourth of the way done with winning the war.
Congrats. Focus on eradicating the next three settlements and we will be done
with the ungodly. Keep us updated on your progress.”
“Yes, sir!” we chorused.
The tablet turned off.
Lothaire frowned just before he disappeared.
Knox, the person who had found the map, carried it over to the tablet and
scanned it over to the High Court.
John threw his arm across my shoulder, and I slumped against him grateful
for his support.
“Finally, let's all go eat. “I’m starving.” Sadie rubbed her hands together
and led the group out the door as the shifters fell into a protective formation
around her.
The thought of food made me sick, but I followed her lead. It was the first
time the angels didn't bristle about a grounder telling them what to do.
They followed silently.
Everyone was withdrawn after the battle.
Time distorted.
Fatigue crushed me downward as I slumped at the table and stared at my
full plate. My fork was frozen in ice and stuck to it.
The diamond bracelet on my wrist vibrated with warmth, and I barely felt
Item.

Conversation buzzed like white noise.

Everything was cool-toned, and I drowned in shades of blue-gray, shivering
because there was no warmth.
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I was a revenant.
All the lines had blurred.
Two days ago, I'd taken an enchanted sword to the stomach. One day ago,
I'd woken up from a healing coma with smooth, unblemished skin and an
unrelenting urge to cry.
Frost had covered my pillow. Five men had waited in various positions
around my bedside.
The twins had hugged me, Malum had glared, and Scorpius had scoffed
while Orion had stared at me with unblinking eyes.
I'd ignored the kings.
I still avoided them as I slumped forward at the table.
A woman's sad eyes before she stabbed me had unlocked a new version
of the haze.
I curled my arms around my stomach like I was protecting an invisible injury
and I inhaled enchanted smoke, but my heart wasn't in it as I twirled my pipe
between my numb lips.
Someone swore softly, but I didn't bother to look up.
Dejection was in the air.
Soldiers chatted and tied, but there was a new sullen tension in the
cafeteria. Anticipation for war had twisted into gloom, and conversations were
more hushed.
People started easier.
Murdering thousands would do that.
Monsters had that effect.
Before the battle, we'd agreed to give everyone two weeks off to recover
before the angels used the map to find the coordinates of the nearest compound.

In the meantime, a combat room was open to practice sparring, the

cafeteria was open for meals, and the strategy room was waiting for us.
Just thinking about the windowless room made me sick.
I didn't want to ruminate on the war because I needed time to pretend I
wasn't a killer. Apart from me recognizing there would never be enough time.
Muscles spasmed in my stomach as I remembered I was the last thing
people saw before ungodly ripped them apart.
No.
Two weeks wasn't enough.
To my right, Sadie rubbed circles on my back as she chatted with her
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mates about something.

To my left, John held my hand while Luka had his arm slung across his
shoulder, his fingers playing with my curls.
Three points of contact.
Three people tethered me to reality, and without them I'd have floated away.

Across the table, Malum and Orion stared at me while Scorpius clenched his
jaw with annoyance. Malum had his arms draped over both his mates protectively.

To test a theory, I held my breath.

Scorpius's upper lip pulled back into a snarl as I watched three minutes pass
on the clock.
I gasped for air, and the blind king slumped with relief.
He was listening.
Always.
I held my breath and started again because I had nothing better to do than
torment men.
Time folded in on itself.
I blinked, and everyone was putting their trays away. The twins took my
uneaten meal, and I looked up to find Jinx focused on me.
Black sunglasses blocked her eyes, but I still won.
She sat with her shoulders back, ramrod straight, and there was something
startlingly different about her, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Was she getting
workshop?
“We need to talk,” Jinx said coldly.
I looked down at the tabletop. “Talk.”
“As we've discussed, I'm your guardian. I was trying to speak to you during the
battle, but our mental connection is—” She paused like she was searching for the
right word. “—unreliable.”
Jinx's voice in my head.
A monster.
The screams of the dying.
I stopped fighting.
An enchanted blade thrust into my stomach.
I shoved my chair back with a loud scrape. “We'll talk later,” I lied and walked
away.
A deserter's retreat.
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Cowardice was my favorite character trait. At least, that was what Mother
had said after she'd kidnapped me from the shifter realm.
I shivered harder as John and Luka slung their arms over my shoulders and
led me from the cafeteria, out into the chilly air.
Without their support, I would never have made it back to our barracks.
I would have collapsed among the trees and closed my eyes. I would have laid
down on the fog-covered ground and let snow gather atop me. I would have—I
was
startled awake by someone shaking my shoulder.
It took me a second to process my surroundings.
It was nighttime, and the room was quiet as everyone slept. I was lying in my
bunk bed, tucked under the covers. Wind howled aggressively outside, and it
sounded like the flurries had become a snowstorm.
I had no recollection of falling asleep.
“You should eat this. You didn't eat earlier,” Malum said gruffly as he
He handed me a vegetable sandwich he must have stolen from the cafeteria.
I took it from him mutely.
Did he wake up in the middle of the night to feed me? Strange.
I took a small bite because my stomach was hollow, then I devoured it in
three bites like I was ravenous. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten.
“Good girl,” Malum whispered as I brushed crumbs off my covers, and I stared
at him.
“What did you just say to me?” I asked incredulously.
A blush stained his cheeks like he hadn't meant to speak.
The cruel devil who had said how much he hated women could not be the
same man who was now whispering things about princesses and praising me.
I had to be dreaming.
Snores filled the space as the men slept in the dark bedroom. A faint memory
of the twins guiding me into bed played at the back of mind, but it felt like it was
someone else's recollection.
Had I been sleepwalking?
Malum and I were the only ones awake, and he loomed over me like a dark
god.
I was delirious.
My comforter was covered in frost, and his fingers danced with flames.
“Were you watching me sleep?” I asked slowly as I tried to figure out
what was going on. Why is he feeding me? What's he trying to gain?
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Silence expanded between us, and just when I thought he wasn't going to
answer, he said, “It was my turn to stand watch, and you looked hungry.”
It took a moment for his words to penetrate.
How does one look hungry in their sleep? Red extended across his bronze
cheeks like he could read my mind.
I gaped at him. “Um. Thanks? I'm also pretty sure there are enchanted
alarms on all the barracks, so you don't need to stand watch.”
I have frowned. “I will do what I must in order to protect my mates.” With
crossed arms, he spread his legs wider.
It was pitch black as the storm raged outside the window.
Insanity was saccharin on the tip of my tongue as the leader of the kings
cleared his throat roughly.
He leaned down at the waist, so his head was closer to my bunk.
As if in a trance, I reached up for his neck.
“How did you get this?” I whispered as I traced the pads of my fingers against
smooth bronze skin and left a trail of blue ice. It instantly melted, and water dripped
between us.
There was a sizzle as my fingers burned from contact with his skin.
It stung, but I didn't pull away.
I have moved closer and overwhelmed my space.
Tobacco and whiskey filled my lungs, and the hairs on the back of my
neck stood up as goose bumps exploded across my arms.
My subconscious screamed at me to run.
My consciousness screamed at me to punch him in the throat.
My inner demons screamed at me to kill everyone, then myself.
My inner slut screamed at me to sit on his face and suffocate him.
He inched closer.
I pressed my mouth against his lips and jolted because they burned with heat.

He went completely still like he was afraid to move. The fiery king made a rough
noise in the back of his throat, and then he moved quickly, pinning me to the bed.

Arousal ignited.
Pain exploded down my spine.
I dragged my nails across the dagger on his neck.
He pinned me to the bed with both my hands above my head.
Hips pressed punishingly against mine as he held me down so I couldn't
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move. We barely fit on my bed. Where he began, I ended.

We were a tangle of limbs and aggression.
His voice was rough like broken glass and without as he whispered against
my lips, “The neck tattoos appeared after the three of us attempted to complete
the bond.”
He rolled his hips against me.
Kissed me harder.
I spent as I realized what I meant.
Images of bare skin on a black silk bed—Orion between Malum and
Scorpius as the three men devoured one another with groans of pleasure and
sweat-soaked skin—had me holding my breath.
The temperature spiked between us.
Embers fell off his flaming shoulders and melted as they touched my chilled
skin.
“Oh,” I gasped eruditely.
He rolled his hips again, and my eyes rolled back in my head from the
pleasure. Agony danced across my back.
One hand held my hands above my head while his other hand palmed my
ass. He swore against my lips, “Fuck, Arabella, you're going to be the death of
me.”
I my hip pushed hard against its length.
“I'm going to ruin you,” he whispered as he kissed me harder. His lips
trailed down my jaw, then lapped at the column of my throat.
I sucked on the sensitive skin, and my stomach twisted with need.
It was too much.
His teeth trailed across my neck.
I spent as I realized he was purposely marking me. Desire increased, and
agony tore my back apart.
It was too much.
I panted and pushed him away.
He took a step back and put his hands in the air like he was making a show
of acting harmless. Wiping the back of his hand across his swollen lips, he
smirked down at me with male satisfaction.
His pants strained forward obscenely.
My stomach twisted as white-hot pain splintered down my spine.
I swallowed a whimper.
Silver eyes narrowed. He stared at my lips with a feral expression and
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asked, “Any other questions?” He tried to sound casual, but his voice was thick
with lust. “Everything doesn't need to be a fight between us. We want to help
you. “I want to help you—you're my Revered.”
He stared at me possessively.
My eye twitched, and doom was corrosive in my veins.
That damned word again.
I was nothing but an object to them, a fixture of importance separate from
any individuality.
There was no Aran.
Only her.
His perfect Revered that didn't exist.
Their divine obsession.
“That's okay.” I cleared my throat and pulled the covers over me
protectively. “I don't want your help.”
He took another step forward and crouched so he was hunched and half
leaning over my bed.
“That's fine,” he said, and the corners of his mouth curled up into a forced
smile. “We'll do everything we can to protect you and make sure you're okay.”

His words said one thing, but the tension in his posture said another.
Shadows stretched between us.
The energy slowly shifted between us, and I squirmed as his expression
darkened.
“You can go back to bed now.” I itched the back of my neck. “No need to
stand watch.”
He didn't move.
Was he mad that I'd pushed him away? Since my back still strummed
with pain, I didn't have a choice.
Awkward tension lengthened between us.
He kept smiling down at me, but a muscle on the underside of his jaw ticked
like he was grinding his teeth. Veins stuck out across his forearms as he
clenched his hands into fists.
I scoffed as I realized what was happening.
He was pretending to be harmless, and it was killing him, but I could sense
the truth—inside he was seeing something because once again I'd refused to be
his Revered.
“Um, I think I'll step outside to get some fresh air.” I glanced behind him
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at the door and pulled myself out of bed.

The room was suffocating with just the two of us awake.
I needed space.
Moving past him, I was determined to throw myself out into the cold and
scream on all fours until warm steam burned away the heinous memories that
festered inside my skull like parasitic monsters that ripped people apart and
—“No.” Malum's arm shot out. He grabbed my bicep so I couldn't move.
Even through my sweatshirt I was hyperaware of the burning heat emanating
off his wide fingers.
More embers fell off him and hissed as they touched the exposed skin on my
neck and hands.
His touch was scalding.
I was frozen.
My gaze drifted downward, and I gulped as I saw his impressive size was still
straining against his pants.
Need mixed with fury between us.
Pain shivered down my spine, and I yanked backward. “Let me go,” I
demanded, too delirious from lust and exhaustion to play his games.
I was confused.
The villain wasn't supposed to ooze sex appeal; your enemy wasn't supposed
to pin you to the bed and ravish you.
He flexed his fingers, and I couldn't move an inch.
I opened my mouth to scream.
Yet again, his mouth covered mine. He kissed me with such ferocity that my
knees went out.
His grip became unbearably painful, and the air left my lungs as he yanked
me close and whispered darkly, “I want answers. “I know what I saw in that room.”

Pleasure mixed with pain as I gasped and struggled to catch my bearings.

His heady tobacco scent wasn't helping.
My head spun from secondary smoke inhalation and delirium.
I was high on him.
Silver eyes hardened into unfeeling chips of steel, and there was no
softness left in his expression. “I know what you did,” he snarled cruelly.
His lips were swollen, and flames danced across his shoulders.
He looked like he couldn't decide between ravaging and murdering me.
The funny (concerning) part was that I also couldn't decide which one I
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preferred.
We had to stop meeting like this.
One thing was obvious: he'd just been pretending to be a gentle, nice guy when
he'd blushed and gave me the sandwich. He'd started the altercation with a false
smile and a relaxed posture, but somewhere along the way, he'd dropped his mask.

Now his face was contorted with fury.

This was the real him.
I kicked my legs and arms out as hard as I could, fighting against his grip, but
after a few minutes of struggling, I was panting heavily, and he hadn't moved an
inch. I squeezed my arm tighter and scowled.
Bronze features—too perfect to ever be called ugly, and too harsh to ever
be called traditionally handsome—lowered inches from my face.
Breath whistled through his clenched teeth.
We were chest to chest, and my neck hurt as I stared up into his eyes.
“Why did you do it?” I have demanded.
It took every ounce of control I possessed not to flinch under his intense scrutiny.

“Do what?” My face scrunched up with feigned confusion.

I was nothing but an imbecile; the mask was too easy to don.
“Don't play games with me—it's not cute.” He loomed closer, and steel flashed.
“I know exactly what I saw. “You did it on purpose.” Red flames sizzled across his
arms.
Harsh features glowed in the fire.
I stayed silent.
He scowled and spat, “Why?” White teeth gnashed, and his canines were
ever so slightly pointed at the end.
He was more devil than man.
I stared back blankly with deadened eyes. “I have no idea what you're
“talking about.” My voice was monotone and bleak, empty like my soul.
He shook me back and forth harshly. "Tell me." His voice rose. “Caring about
your well-being is sheer torment when you care so little about yourself.”

Fire flared hotter between us and charred the edges of my nerves.

“No one ever asked you to care,” I said through gritted teeth. “So save yourself
the trouble and don't.”
I laughed with malice, an angry, dark sound. “Unfortunately for both of
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us, that's not how it works—you are my soul. Do you think I have any control
over my feelings? “My obsession with you?”
He pressed his hips against me as if to prove a point.
Desire pooled in my stomach, and I ignored it.
I scoffed and rolled my eyes so hard they hurt. “Please, everyone has
choices.” I made a mocking face. “If I upset you so much, then just ignore me.”

“You think I could just ignore you?” Furious scarlet flames shot out of his
mouth and warmed my face. “You thought I could just walk the fuck away from
you, Arabella?”
I shrugged. “Yeah.”
He made a frustrated noise and said, “You're more of a fool than I
“could've ever imagined.”
I stood on my tiptoes so our faces hovered inches apart. “And you're a
spiteful psychopath—leave me the fuck alone.”
He smiled, and it was pure evil. “No, I don't think I will.”
The grip on my arm tightened, and my humerus creaked like it was seconds
from snapping.
A whimper escaped before I could stop it.
Bedding rustled, and someone swore.
There was a blur in my periphery, and then Scorpius and Orion joined us in
the middle of the room. Unlike Malum, they were fully clothed. Orion's eyes
locked on where Malum was gripping my arm tightly, then he took in our swollen
lips and messy hair.
Finally, he stared at my neck.
From his expression, Malum had left his marks on me.
Orion whispered to Scorpius, and their faces contorted from sleepy to
enraged.
“Don't touch her like that,” Scorpius said as he yanked Malum away from
me by the back of his neck.
Malum allowed himself to be pulled away without a fight, but his eyes were
full of insidious promises.
He was going to rip away my secrets.
Tear me to pieces.
Ravage me.
He wasn't going to let this go.
Backing away from the three kings, keeping my face to them at all times
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like they were wild animals, I collapsed back onto my bunk even though I didn't
want to sleep.
“I'm going to bed,” I announced.
Awkward silence stretched among the four of us.
“We can help you shower like we did before,” Scorpius offered quietly.
I pulled the comforter over my body.
“Um, that's okay,” I said awkwardly.
Orion whispered, and I was startled at how close he was. “We'll take care
of you, sweetheart, we promise. Corvus just lost control of himself—he'll be
better.”
Sure, and I'm mentally stable.
The scent of chocolate-covered raspberries was deliciously sweet, and I
held my breath.
Finally, he stepped away.
“You will be mine, Arabella,” Malum promised harshly across the room,
then grunted as someone hit him.
I closed my eyes tight and breathed erratically because he knew my
secrets; he'd seen me let myself get stabbed. The other men would freak out if
they realized, and they'd smother me.
For some reason, he hadn't told them yet. My heart skipped a beat as I
realized he'd voluntarily kept my secret.
Malum was protecting me. It was almost…sweet.
He'd also kissed me like he was trying to consume me, again. I have kissed
like it was a war he was determined to win. Did he fuck the same way?
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to stop thinking about fire, whiskey, and
sin.
My wrists tingled where he'd pinned them above my head.
Heat unfurled inside me, and pain streaked down my spine as I clenched
my legs together.
I needed to concentrate on something off-putting and weird.
It was an emergency.
Desperate to stop my traitorous body's reaction, I pictured Sadie trying to
dance seductively in the fae realm. I hadn't even known someone could move
their limbs in two different directions like that at the same time.
The little pinpricks of pain streaking down my spine slowly faded away.
However, it was hard to concentrate on Sadie's dancing (seizures).
The memory of Malum's razor-sharp eyes as he promised not to leave me
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alone played on repeat through my mind.

There was clearly only one solution.
I had to have sex with him, then I'd have to kill him. Praying-mantis-style.
Dagger down, ass up.
It was the only way.
I ignored the arguing kings and, with disturbing swiftness, fell asleep—the
nightmares came quickly.
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Chapter 12
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Corvus Malum
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CONNECTIONS

IGNIFY (VERB): to form into fire.

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DAY 7, HOUR 3

My nightmares usually consisted of flames and failing my mates, of red fire pouring
from my skin while I screamed without relief.
There was a recurring theme to my dreams.
In some of them, I had all three of my mates around me, but I couldn't find my
Revered. I used to dream about a faceless male cowering somewhere in need of
protection. Now I dreamed about a fierce woman with eyes like ice who didn't want
my protection.
I knew something was very wrong because this dream was not like the
rest.
I knew in my gut that I was trapped in someone else's body, experiencing their
memories.
The person was lying partially naked on a marble floor. Ornate frescoes
decorated the walls, and the high ceiling seemed to go on forever. Everything
flickered in shades of gray as if the person's vision filtered out warm colors.
There were no windows.
Don't escape.
They—the person whose body I was inside—shivered uncontrollably.
Somehow, I was aware of the person's emotions, but could still have separate
thoughts.
It was overwhelming and disorienting.
Eight men stood in a circle around them in matching uniforms, and for some
reason, I recognized the insignia as that of the fae guard. I knew, without reason,
that I was in the grand basement of the fae palace.
The guards stepped closer, caging the person in so there was nowhere to go.

For a second, I was distracted by the delicate pale arms that trembled as they
held them up because they were so different from my dark, bronze muscled limbs.

The waves of terror streaking through them were wholly unfamiliar.

I'd never experience fear like this.
A guard reached out and slammed the toe of his thick black boot into the
person's side, and they gasped at the sharp sting. Their fragile frame curled up on
the marble floor. Their joints ached with growing pains.
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They were all gangly limbs and bones.

The person was young.
Scared.
Weak.
Their anxiety swelled as they dragged fragile forearms across the floor
and tried to hoist themselves up.
A guard slammed a boot down on their spine, and they collapsed.
A high-pitched whimper escaped their lips.
Indignation flared in my chest because my gut was telling me the person
being kicked was young. These men were pathetic cowards bullying a child.
Pressure burned behind their eyes, but no tears fell.
Their bravery impressed me.
Few children could be surrounded by so much adult cruelty and hold
themselves together, and the vitriol wafting off the guards was staggering.
They loathed this child.
Another kick sent them sprawling back into a guard's leg, but instead of crying,
the child gritted their teeth and tried to stand up. They didn't complain or break
down even as blind terror was coursing through them.
They were resilient.
Brave.
Shivers racked through their unclothed frame, and their teeth chattered.
The experience was bizarre because I'd never been cold a day in my life.
Yet this child was plagued with bone-freezing chills.
No one else in the room appeared to be cold.
Suddenly, all the guards took a big step back and opened the circle wider.
There was more space around them to fleece, and it should have been a good
thing, but the child started to hyperventilate.
Something was very wrong.
They were paralyzed with noxious panic.
A distant part of me recognized I could escape this nightmare if I wanted
to; all I had to do was wake myself up.
Curiosity had me consciously trying to stay asleep.
I wanted to know what in the sun-god-damned realms was going on. I wanted
to know who these people were.
It felt important.
High heels taped loudly against marble, and a woman approached in a long
gossamer dress composed of rare silk webs. She was stunningly
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beautiful with an unusual coloring—blue hair and eyes.

The child's terror peaked.
My heart plummeted.
The woman's voice was frosty as she said, “Your guardians have told me you
were slacking in your lesson today. Is that true?”
There was something off about the woman's expression, like she was just
mimicking emotions.
Fear seized the child, and they tried to crawl away.
They needed to escape.
It was a life-or-death situation.
A soldier's boot slammed down across the child's back and halted their
progress. A crack echoed in the cavernous space, signaling something had
broken.
Air left the child's fragile lungs in a loud oomph, and they whimpered on the
floor.
The guards laughed.
I wanted to rip their spines. From the child's thoughts, they were innocent.
Young. Helpless. They didn't understand why this was happening to them.

The fae guards were monsters, and the child viewed the woman as the worst
of them all. Even with pain radiating from the broken bone in their back, the child
was more afraid of the beautiful woman.
Their every thought was consumed with escaping her.
The child stuttered desperately, “III just f-forgot one ll-line from a thousand-
page book. I’m not slacking, Mother.” The voice was soft and feminine, and I
jolted as I realized I was in the body of a young girl.
The sinking sensation became a plummet, and rage burned brighter inside
I.
“Lies!” the woman screamed, and her pleasant expression dropped. Mania
shone in her wide, glassy eyes as she smiled wider.
The girl reeled back and begged, “No, Mother. I promise I'll be better.
Please don't. Lo prometo. Please listen to—”
The woman snapped her fingers.
Blue flames everywhere.
Agony like I'd never experienced decimated the girl's body, and it was so
intense that her broken back cracked as it bowed. Mouth opened wide, she
screamed silently as mind-numbing, paralyzing pain racked through her.
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It was heinous.
Obscene.
She wanted to die.
I wanted to kill for her.
The flames stopped, and the girl threw up all over the floor as her muscles
twitched in the aftermath. Embarrassment flooded through her as she realized
she'd soiled herself.
The guards wrinkled their noses with disgust, and she groaned in shame.
Why won't any of them help me? What did I do to deserve this? Her
thoughts were despondent.
I wanted to smash the guards and woman to pieces; I wanted to make them
suffer like they made this defenseless girl suffer.
They deserved to die.
At times like this, I was glad for my abilities because it would be too easy for
my mates and I to hunt them down. I'd snap their puny necks with my bare hands.

It would be much easier than the efforts they were exerting to torment a child.

Consciousness pulled me away from the child's form, but I forced myself to
stay in the memory and not wake up.
I wanted to memorize faces.
I wanted names.
The cruel woman clucked her tongue and knelt next to the girl's convulsing
frame. “We've been over this, darling—you're powerless, pathetic, and an
embarrassment to my name. “You will suffer until you learn.”
She snapped her fingers.
Blue flames.
Silent screams.
Unfathomable torment.
The torture stopped, and the woman gloated down at the girl. “The palace
aides told me you freed those monstrous birds from their gilded cages.” Her smile
contorted into a frown. “Your maid told me you defended a filthy villager child that
was caught stealing.” Her frown deepened. “And that was just from this week. Do
you see why I must do this?”
The girl shook her head. “S-S-Sorry. I won't. Lo prometo. I swear. “I’ll stop.”

She snapped her fingers.

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The world burned blue.

The blue flames stopped, and as the girl coughed and shivered on the cold
marble floor, I started to put the pieces together.
The woman's unique blue hair and familiar otherworldly beauty, the fae
palace surrounded by fae guards, the girl being tortured by her mother.
It was obvious, but I desperately wanted to be mistaken.
I needed to be.
The woman snapped her fingers, and yet again the girl suffered in shades
of blue. Her world was a cruel hell, and she knew only torment.
Her slight frame felt like it was breaking at the edges because she was too
young to endure such torture. Few adults could.
Again.
The agony stopped.
The woman grabbed the girl's chin, and as she leaned close, she smelled
like corrosive acid.
She whispered, “You'll never amount to anything if you keep being so
softhearted. “Nothing good comes from being weak.” Her eyes were unfocused.
“That's what they want you to believe. They want you to be tethered to righteous
morality and neutered like a dog with a fucking handler—they're wrong. These
realms will destroy you if you give an inch. So much power in your ancestry—yet
you produce nothing? Not even a single shard of ice. At your age, I could move
mountains.”
The woman paused, then spat, “You disgust me, Arabella.”
Horror engulfed me.
The girl zoned out as the mother ranted; she was used to her senseless
prattling during torture.
“We'll continue these lessons every night until you learn.” The woman
smirked, and Arabella dropped her forehead to the floor.
Every night. Horror seized me.
My gut feeling had been correct—I was experiencing Arabella's memories. I
was living through her torture.
The child on the ground was my mate.
She was helpless.
Tortured nightly.
I could tell from her thoughts that there was not a single soul in the realm
who had protected her from her mother.
The fae guards had kicked my mate.
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They'd broken her back.

Sneered at her as she convulsed with agony for hours, naked.
My Revered had suffered in unimaginable ways, and we'd failed her
more than we ever knew.
Unholy rage pierced the veil of sleep as I was thrown out of the sickening
memory. I sat up in my bed, panting.
The bedroom was quiet, and the clock read three am
My body burned with heat, and even in the darkness, colors were richer.
The grayish-blue filter was gone from my vision.
The strange emptiness I'd felt inside her chest was replaced with an
overwhelming need for control.
Immediate regret filled me as I remembered how I'd treated her. How I'd lost
control of my temper and yelled at her, just like her mother—I'd been afraid for
her safety, but it was no excuse. I was disgusted with myself.
A whimper echoed in the sleeping room.
In a blur, I flung myself at the lower bunk on the opposite side of the
room and knelt before her.
It took me a second to realize Scorpius and Orion crouched beside me.
I turned to my mates with confusion and asked, “Did you experience—”
“Yes,” Scorpius cut me off.
The silence among us was fraught with angst and regret as we processed
what we all knew.
We knelt together in disbelief.
Disciples at her altar.
Since we'd all been affected, it was obvious what was happening—the bond
sickness had connected us to her memories. It was punishing us like we
deserved.
“No, Mother, please,” Arabella whispered in her sleep as she tossed and
turned before us. Her forehead glistened with sweat, and her covers were a
mess. She slapped her arm back and forth like she was trying to fight off an
invisible assailant.
I ordered, “Wake up,” as Orion shook her gently and Scorpius patted her
face.
She whimpered louder.
Then she opened her mouth, bowed her back, and silently screamed.
Helplessness churned in my gut. I hated that I knew exactly what torment
she was experiencing.
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“Please,” I begged as my mates tried frantically to wake her.

Nothing worked.
She continued to thrash about.
Suffer.
We couldn't wake her, but I couldn't stand by and do nothing. Flames
exploded across my shoulders, and red blurred my vision.
They had desecrated my Revered. I needed vengeance, or I was going to
burn the war camp to the ground and murder everyone within it. Embers fell
around me as I turned to my mates.
“We need to make this right,” I said roughly. “I refuse to do anything.”
“I agree.” Scorpius cracked his knuckles. “We need to go now, or I cannot
be held responsible for my actions.”
The eye tattooed on his neck shot wide open. It stared down at Arabella's
thrashing form.
I agreed in agreement, flames crackling hotter across my shoulders.
“One of us has to watch over her,” Orion whispered. “I'll stay.” He caressed
her sweaty blue curls as she thrashed about.
“Then let's go.” I grabbed Scorpius's arm to guide him and stalked him from
the barracks.
We ran through the snowy forest. It was eerie at night. The once steaming
ground was covered in a thin layer of ice and snow slammed against us from all
directions.
The white contrasted with the vibrant green and rich brown conifer trees.
It was nothing like the shades of blue and gray that Arabella's vision had
painted.
What was wrong with her sight? What was that crushing sense of emptiness
she felt?
I couldn't breathe like another terrible thought struck me. Did Arabella still
experience the world this way? Had we made the emptiness worse?
We'd failed our Revered in every possible way.
For a second, I stopped running and tilted my head back to the storm.
I inhaled.
It smelled like winter and rage.
It smelled like her.
The fire crawling beneath my skin intensified like it recognized its presence
in the ice. Flames multiplied on my shoulders. The urge to unleash my powers
spiked dramatically.
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Sun god, I'm ruined for her.

When we got to the strategy room, I threw open the door with a bang and
unlocked the desk's drawer. Then I grabbed the RJE device Lothaire had given
us before the war started.
The world whirred.
Crack.
We disappeared.
Only one thing was on our minds.
Vengeance.
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Chapter 13
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Aran
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ALONE

TENEBROUS (ADJECTIVE): causing gloom.

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DAY 8, HOUR 14

Mouth open on a silent scream, I jolted awake and sat up straight.

I cracked my forehead against wood.
Sun god help the idiot who had designed the cramped bunk beds, because I
was going to hunt them down.
“Oof, that sucks.” Orion was sprawled out on his bunk across the room,
reading a book.
We were alone.
I rubbed at my forehead and won. The clock on the wall showed I'd slept late
into the day.
Seeing the question in my eyes, Orion smirked and said, “The twins and
demons are bringing you back food from the cafeteria. “It's just the two of us.” He
winked seductively. “Wanna hang?”
I flopped back onto my covers. “Yeah—myself.”
Orion laughed loudly, and I started as I realized he'd been speaking to
me at full volume. His voice was as beautiful as his face.
Life wasn't fair.
“Where are your mates?” I asked as I threw myself out of bed and avoided
thinking about warm brown eyes, long lashes, plush pink lips, and a sinful voice.

“They're doing some important king business, don't worry,” he said.

Malum's words from last night came back to me. Orion had earned his cherry
blossoms with openmouthed kisses and moans of pleasure. I closed my eyes and
tried to rub away the feeling of warm lips devouring me.
Turning around, I walked into a wall of muscle and jumped. my mouth
watered with the divine scent of chocolate raspberries.
Orion stared down at me with a strange intensity. He'd moved silently
across the room with impossible speed.
His full lips gave him a perpetual pout.
The memory of how soft his lips had felt when he'd kissed me at Elite Academy
played through my mind. He has kissed differently from Malum. Less rough, but
equally passionate.
I licked my lips and swayed closer to him.
A sharp bolt of pain slammed down my spine and brought me back to
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reality.
Wondrous, I was becoming a pervert like the men.
I staggered away.
“Seriously. Are you okay?” I asked at full volume as he reached for me.
I flinched and kept backing away from him.
“Obviously—I'm clearly thriving,” I said drolly instead of admitting I kept making
out with my mortal enemy and I was beginning to suspect that I wanted to bone
both him and Malum at the same time.
I grimaced as I made my bed just to give myself something to do.
One day, you were a woman with hopes and dreams, and the next, you
were fantasizing about sitting on two men's faces just to shut them up.
Awkwardness stretched between us.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I have asked.
I swallowed manic laughter. “Hardly no.”
His scent spiked sweeter as he moved closer to me, and I covered my mouth.
Head spinning from too many hours of sleep, I staggered into the cramped bathroom
and slammed the door shut, then locked it for good
measure.
I turned on the water and collapsed into the tub.
Scalding-hot water burned my flesh, and I intended not to notice that it
reminded me of Malum's kisses.
There was screwed, and then there was screwed. I was the latter.
Pink blotches covered my limbs.
Wet curls were plastered across my face.
I laid my head back.
Orion hadn't told me where Malum and Scorpius were, but I pictured them
walking hand in hand on a date while they gave each other kisses and talked shit
about me.
Was I being rational? No. Did that matter at the moment because I was
spiraling? Also no.
I lay in the tub under the shower spray like a frigid corpse who was not
sexually attracted to her enemies.
Arms crossed over my chest.
Legs straight.
Mouth sewn shut.
The Necklace of Death hot against my chest.
Ice coated my fingers, then receded into the hot water.
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For a second, I hallucinated there was snow in the shower. White flakes
flurried down, then dissipated in the scalding steam.
A layer of thick cobalt ice coated my feet where they stuck out of the
toilet.
What in the sun god is wrong with me?
When I'd discovered I was an angel, I'd pictured soaring over mountains
and brandishing ice swords. I'd imagined poise and frosty control.
I had never pictured this.
The ice coating my feet traveled across the porcelain tub and welded us together.

“Are you all right in there?” Orion shouted through the door. His lyrics
voice cracked, and he said softly, “Please tell me you're doing okay.”
“Do you think I'm part angel, part Abominable Snowman?” I asked, slightly hysterical.

This was my final straw.

"Que?" I asked with confusion through the door.
“I read about it in a book,” I said. “It's this big beastly creature that lives in the ice
and snow with thunder thighs and sharp teeth and claws and—uh, a freak,” I finished
lamely.
There was a long pause.
“I know what it's like to be a freak,” he said softly through the door.
My heart twisted at the pain in his voice.
“You aren't one—don't say that,” I said fiercely.
I yawned loudly. It seemed impossible that I could be so tired when I'd
slept for so long. Panicking over becoming a snowman did that to a woman.
My eyes drifted closed.
“It's okay,” Orion replied. “The first time I enchanted someone with my voice, I was
four years old…” His voice was mellow as he told me stories about his childhood.

I listened with my eyes closed, imagining a cherub little boy with golden skin and
white-blond hair crying himself to sleep because he was forbidden from talking to anyone.

My heart hurt as he revealed his parents had given him away to an all-boys home
because they'd thought he was defective. Strength and power were the ultimate tenets
of devil life, and those viewed as different were discarded.

I have talked about living with the other foster boys on an expansive farm.
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How he'd loved visiting the village's farmers market.

I struggled to make sense of the world he described.
I'd pictured the devil realm as a dreary, miserable city filled with gangs and
violence, but what he described sounded provincial and rural. It was a place of
quiet living, apart from extreme tenets regarding strength and personhood.

His voice calmed the panic in my chest.

I have talked about how being with Corvus and Scorpius had saved him.
How Corvus secretly had a soft side you would never believe unless you saw
him in his home. How Scorpius could make pain feel greater than pleasure ever
could.
My stomach flipped, and a whimper escaped my lips.
Orion changed topics, and he talked about the euphoric feeling of unleashing
his powers with his mates. He said it felt divine but also like torment because
their mating bond wasn't complete.
There was a painful knot in his chest that wound tightened when they
unleashed their abilities. When they lost all awareness, it felt wrong, like they
were being punished for not having their fourth.
I listened intently.
What he described was so foreign I couldn't even imagine it. to have so
a lot of power that it felt like euphoria—it sounded like a fairy tale.
Then Orion randomly asked softly, “What's with Luka?”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Uh.” I have cleared his throat. “Why's he always so quiet? “I've noticed that
he seems—intense.”
The tone of his voice was weird, and I couldn't place it.
“John's hinted that he's been through a lot,” I said. “He's a very protective,
intense guy.” I smiled. “But he's secretly a softie.” I thought about all the times
he'd helped me during training, and we hadn't even known each other.

Orion was silent.

“Why do you ask?”
I have cleared his throat. “Just wondering. I've noticed him watching me
sometimes, and I was wondering if that was something he usually does?”
His words started me. “No, it's not—he usually only looks at me and John.
“Sometimes I don't think he knows other people exist.”
Orion made a noise in the back of his throat. “Interesting.”
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I smiled to myself. “He also has wicked-cool tattoos and a piercing

somewhere you'd never expect.”
“Really?” Orion asked, the interest clear in his voice.
Grinning, I launched into a detailed account of every fine-line tattoo that
covered Luka's chest.
As I talked, the ice on my toes didn't seem like such a big deal.
After a while of objectifying Luka, I asked more questions about Orion's
childhood, and he launched into a captivating tale of survival.
Yet again I drifted off to sleep, but this time in the shower to the sound of
an enchanting voice.
The nightmares stayed away.
I dreamed of grassy pastures, rolling hills, cherry blossoms floating on a
warm summer breeze, and Orion smiling as he spoke to me.
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Chapter 14
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Aran
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party

REVERIE (NOUN): the condition of being lost in thought.

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DAY 9, HOUR 19

“A safe place for the soldiers to unwind.”

That was what Lothaire had called Elite Academy last week. The unspoken
I'm doing this for you, my daughter had hung in the air between us.
Yesterday, he'd burst into our sleeping barracks and dumped RJE devices
onto the floor. “In recognition of your sacrifices, I procured these for you and your
soldiers. Your old room and the academy's servants are yours to use.
Thank you for your service.”
He'd ruffled my blue curls and whispered, “You're doing great.”
Then he'd RJE'd away, and I'd gaped at the place where he'd stood.
One day, a man's hitting you with a baton and the next he's trying to be a cool
dad.
Life comes at you fast.
Now we were back partying in our bedroom at Elite Academy, and it
It didn't feel like a safe place.
It felt wild.
Muted red light, so dark it was almost black, filtered through the stained-
glass windows and cast shadows over the dancers.
I wanted to scream with grief over the war, and I would have, but…
I couldn't feel my face.
I also couldn't feel my back or my limbs.
Or the crushing existential despair that was squeezing my—wait, never
mind, that was still present.
I danced like the party raged around me.
My hands waved in the air, diamond bracelet glittering for all to see, as my
hips rolled against the masses of sweaty flesh. The floor beneath my feet was
covered in black ice and I felt some partygoers falling to the ground.
I bared my teeth with satisfaction as another student fell.
We were all just carnal beasts looking for our next fix.
A few feet away, Ghost kissed a burley male student, who liked to make
homophobic and misogynistic comments, on the lips, and he fell to the ground,
convulsing and foaming at the mouth.
I gave Ghost a high five as he floated past. His disembodied hand went
through me, and I shivered.
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We loved an ally.
Apparently, he was not constrained to the library, because he glided around
the party, sending students into comas.
Tears filled my eyes.
I'd missed Ghost so much, and things just weren't the same without him
around because no one traumatized people like he did.
He had a rare gift.
Demon brew coursed through my veins as bodies gyrated around me, and
instead of crying, I did what I did best in life.
Drugs.
Sun god bless the demon culture; they were the true silent heroes of the
realm for helping us all get so gloriously wasted.
I saluted Zenith, who was across the room, grinding on Vegar.
Zenith scowled back at me, and I blew him a kiss.
He rolled his eyes, but I could tell from his acerbic expression that he
secretly loved the attention.
Bodies shifted in the packed room and blocked my view of the demons.
I tipped my head back and smoked.
Rolling my body to the beat, I held up my hand, and five fingers waved in
and out of focus. Five. It had been five days since we'd slaughtered an entire
compound full of people.
Now the party (funeral) raged in our old bedroom with enchanted music,
soldiers, naked students, drugs, sex, and alcohol.
The PTSD wasn't included.
I brought my own.
“Fuck you,” I snarled at no one in particular as faces blurred around me.
The singer crooned on the speakers, and I exhaled a cloud of smoke.
“You tell them,” Sadie shouted over the music. “You get 'em, girl.”
She moved against me, gyrating her hips and swinging her arms in what
most parts of the realm called “having an episode.”
I chuckled to myself as I remember how thinking about her dancing had
saved me from my attraction to Malum.
In the present, in what was supposed to be a seductive move, she spread
her arms wide and jumped into a split.
Shockingly her legs locked a few feet from the floor.
She screamed in pain and fell over.
“I think I pulled my crotch,” she moaned pitifully.
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Between gasps of laughter, I said, “You know, I picture you dancing

when I'm trying not to be turned on.”
She smacked at my hands as I tried to help her up. “Please, we both know
it's the opposite.”
“I'm not joking,” I said, laughing uncontrollably as she struggled to stand.

She lowered her voice and leaned close to me as she half shimmied, half
twitched. “Whatever you say, sweet stuff.”
I pushed her away. “That is exactly what I was talking about. “It's just weird.”

“Sun god,” she groaned. “You don't need to be a bitch because you find me
sexy. “A lot of people do.”
She tried to wink, but both her eyes closed at the same time.
She blinked furiously.
“Clearly,” I said dryly, “that's exactly what's happening here.”
The music changed to a faster beat, and she suddenly grabbed my arms
and spun us both around.
Unlike all the uncoordinated students and soldiers who kept slipping, Sadie
didn't hate the patch of ice that had spread beneath my feet; she tipped her
head back and laughed as she spun us both faster on it.
A thought struck me. She'd grown up in the cold shifter realm and was at
home with ice and snow.
Maybe that was why she was at home with me?
My heart swelled with emotions I couldn't afford to feel, so I tipped my head
back and lowered my shoulders, swung my arms back and forth as I smoked
five pipes at once.
Five.
It had been five days since five people from the Legionnaire Games had
been slaughtered in the battle. One angel and one assassin inside the building,
two leviathans and one devil outside in the snow as they fought against the
ungodly that tried to escape.
All their corpses were unidentifiable.
I didn't even know the names of the angel and assassin, but I'd fought
beside them as the ungodly ripped them apart.
I knew how they'd died.
“Okay, Aran, I see you. Go off.” Sadie rolled her body against me as I
tipped my head backward further.
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“Hit it. Hit it. Hit it,” she shouted encouragingly as I swung my arms and
legs back and forth and squatted low.
I rocked faster.
Smoked harder.
Seventeen was the total number of soldiers we'd lost in the battle, because
twelve foot soldiers had died securing the perimeter. There were five odd numbers
between five and seventeen.
So many fives.
I grabbed a bottle of demon brew from a student's hands and tipped it
back. Drank until it was empty, then chucked it against the far wall.
It exploded, and students yelped.
Sadie cheered.
The number 5555 was an enchanted one that stood for change.
They'd changed all right. Living to dead.
I wheezed, and my chest tingled.
“Here, sweetie,” Sadie said as she pressed another pipe between my
crammed lips. “Have another smoke. “This will help.”
I inhaled the drugs until my lungs felt like they were disintegrating inside my
sternum.
She was right.
It helped.
I loved her so much; she always knew what I needed.
She pulled me close and whispered into my ear, “We should pretend to have
sex in the shower again sometime.”
Never mind—she knew nothing.
"Que?" I stopped dancing.
She snickered. “Scorpius told me the other day that he would make you come
harder than I ever could.”
I pulled back and gaped at her. “He did not.”
“Yep.” She popped the p loudly. “Then he told me my stroke game was weak.”
She smirked as she shimmied her hips. “I told him I was better at giving head
because I was a girl and knew what felt best.”
I choked on smoke. “You didn't say that.”
She grinned. “Oh, I did. He was so pissed—you should have seen it. Poor
guy stabbed himself in the thigh with a pen. Can we please do it again? I think
your men would actually have aneurysms.”
“They're not my men,” I said reflectively.
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She rolled her hips and winked. “Suuuuure, whatever you say. And I
don't shift into a saber-toothed tiger and enslave people with my blood.”
I rolled my eyes, and we resumed dancing.
“Fine,” I said a few moments later and drew seductively, “You can fake fuck
me again.”
She squealed and pulled me close. “You will not regret this decision.”
I laughed because I definitely would, and we rocked together in the flailing
mass of sweaty limbs and hormones.
Everything was a jumbled mess.
Students were on their knees.
Soldiers pressed against the walls with their heads tipped back.
Sounds of pleasure echoed.
Pincers scraped.
Exoskeletons crunched.
High-pitched chittering sounded.
Eighty-three was the number of soldiers left in our army, and you
couldn't divide it by five.
It was all disturbing.
Horse cawed with agitation as he flapped above the heads of the partygoers.
His tail and wings were covered in long trailing feathers, and his neck was longer.

He stopped flying and perched on my shoulder, nuzzling his beak against

the side of my head.
I leaned my head back to try to make the dark thoughts fall out.
I tipped backward, but they stayed inside my head.
Regrettable.
Sadie caught me before I crashed to the floor, then spun me around the
room like we were at a fancy ball on a spacious dance floor.
Plot twist, we weren't.
We crashed into bodies, and drinks sloshed everywhere as people swore.
I couldn't help but laugh as Sadie grinned like a maniac and spun me faster
in the crowd. She slammed me into a student like a battering ram, and I crashed
to the floor.
It was the most fun I'd had in weeks.
My elbow cracked against someone's nose, and blood sprayed like
diamonds. Sadie's cheeks were rosy, lips glossy, as she twirled with me.
We laughed uncontrollably.
Machine Translated by Google

This was the feminine experience.

We slammed into someone, and they hit the ground with a thud. horse
cawed in his face, then settled on Ghost's shoulder.
They haunted the party together.
Goals.
“What the fuck are you two doing?” the student we'd just bowled over spat
from the floor. “I'm a royal student, and I don't recognize you, which means
you're filthy commoners.” He lumbered unsteadily to his feet.
What a delightful man.
“Spinning sexily,” Sadie said in a duh voice as she flipped her white hair
over her shoulder and made an obscene gesture with her hands.
I put my hand over my mouth to hide my laughter.
Sadie grinned over at me, clearly proud that she was making me laugh,
and gyrated her hips to the music.
The man said something else, but we ignored him as we danced.
In my peripheral vision, he lunged toward us. “You little commoners think
you can—”
“Is this man bothering you?” Cobra appeared out of nowhere and blocked
the man.
He stared down at Sadie with an intense expression as the jewels embedded
in her skin glinted prettily at the dimly lit party.
She chuckled. “Nooooope.”
“Go away, snake man,” I slurred and chucked three of my pipes at him like
daggers.
They bounced off his chest and fell to the floor.
Snake eyes glowed in the darkness as Cobra said, “I didn't ask for your
opinion.” Slit pupils flickered as he faced me, and he arched his brow. “I see
you're struggling like usual. How predictable.”
I studied my fingernails. “I've always thought it fascinating that snakes have
brains the size of peanuts. It must be difficult being such a—” I wrinkled my
nose. “—dimwit.”
Cobra smiled back meanly. “Interesting talk coming from the girl who was
crying an hour ago while chugging demon brew.”
“How dare you,” I gasped. “I had something in my eye. Also, at least my
pupils aren't lobotomized.”
His eyes twinkled. “How is therapy going? Are you still sad?”
"No." I laughed falsely. “I'm cured.”
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Cobra spread his arms wide and blocked the student who was still trying to
charge at us as he proclaimed, “It's a miracle. Especially after you let yourself
get stabbed just a few days ago. Good to see you're doing better.”
I stumbled, and Sadie righted me.
How did he know? Had Malum talked to him? No, the king thought he was
above the shifters; no way he would have told them something so personal.

It must be a lucky guess.

Recovering my composure, I relaxed my posture and smiled. “Awww, thanks
for your concern,” I said condescendingly. “Also, don't worry, I'll keep your
secret. “Sadie's told me all about your little problem in the bedroom?”

“What did I say?” Sadie whispered in my ear. “I don't remember.”

Sun god bless her.
The student we knocked over tried to push past Cobra, but this time, the
snake shifter said, “You just threatened two of the champions in the war.”
The man paled, and his eyes widened as he realized who we were. I have
bowed respectively. “I didn't know, forgive me.”
Cobra slammed his foot down. “You're not forgiven.” Bones crunched, and
the student went down with a scream.
A dark corridor.
Glowing blue swords.
A bear roaring.
Infected dying.
High-pitched chittering.
A woman screaming.
I tripped and looked down.
It was a body.
CRACK.
“Snap out of it.” Cobra slapped me across the face, and the party (funeral)
came back into focus.
I touched my lip, and my finger came back red. The cold liquid hardened into
ice.
“Thanks,” I said sincerely.
“Don't mention it.” He grunted and stepped away. “Seriously, never talk
to me again. Better yet, forget I exist.”
"Quien eres?" I asked with feigned confusion.
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A slow smile curled his lips as he pulled Sadie to his side, tucking her under
his shoulder protectively.
He looked at something behind me and pulled his mate into the crowd.
Before the dancing bodies swallowed them, Cobra winked.
I cocked my head in confusion.
His meaning was clear a second later when long fingers grabbed my
cheeks and pulled my face to the side.
The hand was freezing.
Harsh.
Unrelenting.
A tongue licked across my lower lip wanted only, and I was just depressed
enough to enjoy it. I trembled.
“Why is my Revered bleeding?” Scorpius asked menacingly as he shook my
head back and forth. “I heard a slap, is that what this is from? Who do I need to
kill?”
I breathed roughly, and warm air puffed against the side of my face.
The blind king stood flush against me. He curled his body around mine
like a dragon hoarding its treasure.
I'd noticed that he was doing it more often.
Shielding me with his flesh.
“It's not blood,” I drew, my cheeks pressed against his fingers as I forced my
lips into a smile. “I'm just overflowing with existential dread, practically bursting
at the seams.”
He didn't release my face.
Instead, he rubbed his wide chest against my back and purred, “Seriously,
who am I killing?”
I leaned back against him and swayed.
“No one.” I sighed. “I slapped myself because I was trying to feel
something. Sadly, it didn't work. “I'll make sure to use a shovel next time.”
Warm breath fanned against the side of my face, and for a long moment,
we swayed to the music in a toxic imitation of dancing.
One began where the other ended.
“You're a shit liar, Arabella,” he said harshly in my ear.
I slammed my elbow back into his sternum. “My name is not Arabella.
It’s Aran.”
Instead of letting me go like I'd planned, Scorpius moaned and jerked his
hips against my ass.
Machine Translated by Google

Hardness pressed against me.

He curled his one hand around my face so his fingernails pressed against
my skin in five pinpricks of pain. He palmed my core with his other hand.
Fire exploded down my spine.
I whimpered.
“If you wanted it rough, you just had to ask.” His hips swayed against me
faster, in time with the music. He clutched my pussy through my sweatpants like
it belonged to him.
Arousal pooled inside my stomach.
Male and female students shot me dirty glares, and it took me a second to
remember that everyone at the academy had Stockholm syndrome over the kings.

They were all deranged.

Not me.
Nope, I had my head screwed on straight and a crystal-clear understanding
that the three of them were psychopaths.
In fact, I was so intelligent that I was letting one of them publicly fondle me.
Slay (in the sexual sense).
I sucked on my remaining three pipes.
Desire flamed hotter.
“The problem is,” I whispered as I melted back against Scorpius, “I fucking
hate you.”
His grip on my core tightened. Finger massage.
I shuddered.
My hips jerked against his hold.
Scorpius nuzzled the side of my face and breathed harshly into my ear.
Goose bumps exploded across my skin, and I shivered violently.
“Don't worry, Arabella, I forgive you for your cruel words.” He tightened his
hands and a spasm flowed through me.
I pressed my thighs together and said weakly, “Release me.”
“But you don't want me to.” He laughed, and the sound was filthy.
My voice dripped with frost. “But I'm telling you to, and you're not
listening. “Some Protector you are.”
He released me like I'd burned him. He stepped away, and his expression
It was dark. “I'll always protect you. Don't you dare question that.”
I scoffed.
I ignored the wetness between my legs.
Machine Translated by Google

“You tortured me when I was a man and when I was a woman. Turns out
you're an equal opportunist piece of shit. How progressive.” I clapped mockingly,
and manic chuckles burst from my throat. “Also, you are literally the opposite of
a Protector. You're a cruel, insecure bully.”
It was just so funny.
I sucked harder on my pipes, and everything became a little hazy.
Scorpius remained in harsh focus.
Shadows filled hollow cheeks, cheekbones glinted razor-sharp, unseeing,
milky white eyes narrowed, and full lips curled back.
Something new flashed across his features, and his mask cracked. “What do
you need from me?” His teeth clicked as he gnashed them. “How do I fix how
terrible we've been? “I understand now how horrible the things are that you've
gone through.” He choked on the last word like he couldn't say anything more.

What did he mean?

Why does he now understand?
“You can't,” I whispered with confusion. “It's too far gone.”
He flexed his hands.
He tilted his head to the side and slowly fell to his knees.
“What are you doing?” I gaped down at him. “Stand up.” I pulled at his wide
shoulders.
“No, Arabella.” Scorpius's voice was harsh, and he remained kneeling in the
crowd of bodies.
Students and soldiers stopped dancing to stare.
Why was a king on his knees?
Confusion was written on all our faces as the sadomasochist bowed his
head submissively. The posture was wrong on him. Foreign.
“Please forgive me, Arabella Alis Egan,” he spoke loudly so everyone could
hear.
The weight of everyone's attention was smothering.
I gritted my teeth. “Get up.” I tugged at his shoulders desperately.
"No."
“I'm not joking, Scorpius. “Stop this at eleven.”
He bowed lower and announced, “You've been wronged in despicable ways,
and I have also wronged you. I vow to be your servant. From this day forward, let
it be known that I am not a king of the sun god. I serve only you.
“I'm your hound.”
Machine Translated by Google

I stumbled back and covered my mouth, half expecting the sun god to strike
him down for his blasphemy. Everyone knew the kings lived to serve him. That
was their lives' purpose, and they never shut up about it.
Women and men oohed and aahed in the crowd.
My breath came out in frosty puffs.
“She's so lucky,” someone whispered next to me, and one person replied,
“I'd kill to have him on his knees for me.”
They giggled.
“You don't mean that.” I took another step back.
His voice took on his familiar sneer as he said, “I've never meant anything
more in my miserable existence. Let me serve you. Por favor."
There was a fresh round of swooning in the crowd.
I rubbed at my eyes, half convinced I was hallucinating because of excessive
drug use.
“Um, okay?” I scratched at the back of my neck.
The crowd parted as Orion and Malum stepped forward to flank their
mate. Looming shadows of death, they fell to their knees beside him.
All three of them bowed their heads to me and said in unison, “From here
on out, we will be known as your hounds.”
Someone swooned in the crowd, and there was a smattering of applause
and wolf whistles.
I was going to be sick.
“I don't get why they're so obsessed with her?” a different girl whispered
cattily from behind me.
“They'll pull of her eventually. “It's just for show,” someone replied, and they
burst into laughter.
They spoke my fears aloud.
I pressed my palms into my eyes and took another step back. Could they
not give me one party to rot in depression by myself?
“I've always been more of a cat person,” I mumbled under my breath as I
looked around for Sadie, desperate for my friend to distract me from whatever
the hell was going on in front of me.
Men were messy.
Each day, I became a bigger advocate for mandatory male imprisonment at
birth.
“You belong to us,” Malum said harshly, then his cheeks turned scarlet like
he was embarrassed for voicing his true thoughts.
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Case in point.
He couldn't even pretend to be contrite while prostrating himself before me in a
crowd.
I inhaled, tipped my head back, and scoffed in disbelief, “You're out of your minds
if you think I'll forgive you.”
Bright flames exploded across his shoulders, and he lifted his head,
molten silver pinning me in place as fury contorted his features.
The crowd fell over themselves as they put more space between
themselves and the volatile king who was known for losing his temper.
Orion grimaced. He looked up with pleading eyes like he was apologizing
because his mates couldn't pretend to play nice.
“Do you want me to crawl for you?” Malum asked loudly, and his deep,
baritone voice made it hard to breathe.
Another person swooned.
The Academy seemed to have a passing-out problem.
Malum crawled forward toward me, harshly handsome features appeared
insidious in the room's dark shadows.
I have tried to look suddenly.
He looked savage.
I subconsciously rubbed at my neck as I remembered how he'd dragged
his teeth across my sensitive skin.
The floor vibrated with music.
I pulled three pipes from my lips and blew out as I tried not to look at the man
crawling across the room toward me. “I'm yours. I'm your hound,” he said as he got
closer. “Forgive me—please.”
I choked.
Somehow he'd managed to make an apology sound like a command.
They were on their knees before their Revered; Malum was crawling toward her.

Not me.
He was trying to manipulate my womanly disposition by groveling.
The worst part was it was working.
I girded my loins and reminded myself that my most feminine quality was that I
was pure evil.
It forced out a dark chuckle as I glared down at the flaming king who knelt at my
feet. “You are all delusional.”
Turning my back to them, I pushed through the gaping crowd toward the
Machine Translated by Google

two men who'd been standing against the wall behind me all night, silently observing
as I'd danced with Sadie and sparred with her mate.
Their presence was a constant comfort.
Their energy was different because they wanted Aran.
Not Arabella.
Not a Revered.
John rolled his eyes at my expression, but he flashed his dimples and licked his
lips as I sauntered forward and wrapped my arms around his neck.
Luka pulled his gaze away from where Orion knelt, and focused the full weight of his
attention on me.
“Should we give them a show?” I asked him.
I tried to look disinterested but failed spectacularly. “Are you sure you want us and
not Sadie? You've been rubbing all over her all night,” he asked petulantly.

“Aw, are you jealous, sweetheart?” I asked back.

“It depends.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me flush against
his hips. “Does it turn you on?”
He winked, and I laughed. “Maybe.”
Luka played with a curl and asked, “Are you feeling okay?”
“Like today or in general?” I squinted.
I have arched a dark brow. “How are you doing right now?”
"Awful." I smiled up at his concerned expression as the room spun around me.

I frowned and massaged the back of my head. “I don't think we should

—”
“Fuck me in front of the kings until I feel better,” I demanded, loud enough for the
devils to hear.
The crowd broke into murmurs.
“What the fuck are all of you standing around looking at?” Malum asked
the crowd, and the dancing summarized.
John pulled me closer and twitched as he shook his head. “Are you trying to
use us to get to the kings? Am I nothing but a hunk of meat to you?”
“Nah.” I winked. “You've also got some gravy.”
He threw his head back with laughter. “Are you hitting on me, Aran? Is this your
attempt at flirting?”
“It depends.” I rolled the pipes between my lips. “Is it working?”
“Yes,” John said at the same time Luka whispered, “Fuck me. You can not
Machine Translated by Google

say things like that.”

“Why?” I asked, genuinely confused.
Luka leaned forward and whispered against the shell of my ear, “Because
I'll take you up on it. Aran, I'll make you scream our names so loudly that
everyone will know who you belong to.”
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Chapter 15
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Luke
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party

BELAMOUR (NOUN): one who is loved.

Machine Translated by Google

DAY 9, HOUR 21

Aran was pressed flush against me, and I inhaled her wintry scent, dry ice
exploding across my senses.
Music boomed from enchanted speakers and the room glowed with bright
scarlet light.
The crush of bodies rocked around us.
We trapped her between us; John pressed flush against her back as I claimed
her front.
My skin buzzed, but this time, the compulsion wasn't telling me to keep her
close and protect her. It was telling me to own her.
Mark her as mine.
Consume her.
Do depraved things to her.
Corrupt her.
Show her just what it meant to be the fiancée of an antisocial man with an
attachment disorder.
I wanted Aran's skin to tingle with pleasure like mine crawled with need.
I wanted her to know my torment and understand what it meant that we owned
each other.
When she'd accepted our betrothal jewelry, she'd agreed to tie her souls
to ours.
Irrevocably.
Aran gazed up at me in the dark, her hooded eyes rimmed with dark bruises.
My girl was tired and struggling with handling the weight of the war.
I wanted to shield her from all suffering.
I wanted to help her forget.
Cupping her face tenderly, I traced my thumb across her scar. The half
crescent adorned the top of her cheek and enhanced her fragile beauty.
Warm breath tingled across my wrist as she leaned into my hand.
Melted against me.
She was an island of softness and trust in a harsh, jagged room of killers.
Loud music and gyrating hips. The scent of sweat and sex. Drugs
consumed with despair. Soldiers tried to forget.
She was different from all the men and women in this cursed castle.
Machine Translated by Google

I'd recognized her uniqueness the first day I'd met her, when she'd
broken through my barriers. She wore it in her eyes, clear as day.
Aran was empathetic.
Terribly so.
In realms full of immortal beings where ruthlessness and cunning were
admired above all else, she defied the norms.
Aran broke the equation of an individual's power directly correlating with
their callousness.
Case in point, I didn't care about anyone but my twin, and the kings only
cared about one another. The demons were consumed with themselves, and
the angels thought they were the superior race. The shifters kept a close
familial circle and distrusted outsiders.
We were all perfect soldiers because we killed others easily.
Slaughter or survive because immortality was a long time to live under
another's thumb.
Yet despite it all, Aran Alis Egan was compassionate and struggled to
hurt others even though she was born with a crown and power in her veins.
How could one woman be so fierce, yet so caring?
The duality of man incarnate.
I stroked her chilled skin, and sooty eyelashes fluttered against the pad of
my thumb.
Need burned in my lower gut.
Everything narrowed until all I could see was hooded dark blue eyes, wild
blue curls, smoke curling from plush pink lips as Aran stared up at me like I
was her savior.
Awareness exploded across my skin.
Because I wanted nothing more than to be her champion.
A tortured woman like her needed, a tortured man like me; like Sisyphus,
we were bound to suffer. Together.
Diamonds sparkled on her wrist, and the jewel of death hung heavy across
her chest.
I was touching her.
She was at my mercy.
At last.
Since the party had started hours ago, John and I had stood against the
wall, watching as she flirted with Sadie.
And even though I didn't have an issue with the woman like my twin did
Machine Translated by Google

—since she made Aran happy, that was all that mattered to me—it had still been
frustrating to watch without touching. Claiming. Defiling.
Alas, she smiled differently when Sadie was around, so we'd stayed back in
the shadows. Watched with amusement as they'd flung themselves through the
crowd like battering rams.
They'd danced wantonly and drunk heavily. Taking random drugs from
strangers with mischievous grins.
She'd been carefree.
Different.
She'd only sunk once into the darkness, but Cobra had slapped her and
brought her back to reality. By the time John and I had realized what had
happened, the snake shifter had disappeared into the crowd and the kings had
arrived.
We would punish him later.
For now, I held her in my arms.
I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, and her icy scent was like adrenaline
straight to the veins.
My lips tingled from the innocent touch.
Electricity sparked between us.
Aran's mouth curled up into a smirk, and she whispered huskily, “Fuck
“me in front of the kings, pretty please.” She batted her eyelashes.
Blood rushed south at the thought of taking her so publicly.
The idea of Orion watching was an added bonus.
Lately, I'd noticed how his dark eyes were always fixed on my Aran.
He'd bite his pouty lips like he was dreaming of devouring her. I understood
exactly how he felt.
It was intriguing to see someone else fixate on her with the same obsession.

The strangest part of it all was that I'd noticed he existed.

Now his long lashes fluttered as he stared at Aran with undisguised hunger.
His gaze flickered in the space between our lips.
I liked knowing he watched.
I liked knowing he was just as obsessed, but she was mine.
I smirked with male satisfaction and cupped her precious face with both my
hands, trailing my thumbs across her cheekbones as I cradled her before
I.
“You don't have to beg, love,” I said softly.
Machine Translated by Google

She inhaled sharply and relaxed into my touch. She let me hold her up.
Own her.
I whispered into her halo of curls, “But I like the way you melt for me.”
A soft moan escaped her lush lips, and it was the sweetest ambrosia after
a lifetime of starvation.
“This is your only warning.” My voice was rough as I pushed myself
flush against her. “I'm not going to hold back because we're in public.”
Navy eyes widened as her lips made an oof surprise, then she smiled
shyly and mumbled, “That's fine.”
I couldn't stop my smirk.
It was time to show her just how attached I could be.
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Chapter 16
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Aran
Machine Translated by Google

party

AMATIVE (ADJECTIVE): strongly moved by love and especially sexual love.

Machine Translated by Google

DAY 9, HOUR 21

Luka pulled the pipes from my lips and pressed them into his mouth. He tipped
his head back and inhaled with his eyes closed. The lines of his neck strained,
and he shivered.
I gulped.
He tipped his head back forward and licked frost off the pipes like he was
savoring my taste.
Students and soldiers moved around us in a mass of flailing limbs. The
shadowy darkness of the room wrapped around.
We were blanketed in darkness.
Desire flamed between us.
Courage burned my sternum, and with the room warped in slow motion, I
fell to my knees.
Before.
Luke.
His eyes were chips of obsidian, and he tracked my every movement like
he was obsessed with me.
He always watched and touched me like he couldn't get enough. When I
was around the twins, I felt cared for.
With Luka, I felt cherished. Special.
He sucked on my pipes, the vapor from drugs curling around him as his
Fingers tangled in my hair and he looked down at me ardently.
My knees dug into the hard floor.
His pupils were blown wide, swallowing his irises, and he radiated
strength. I was powerless before him.
A worshiper on the steps of the sun god's chapel.
Luka didn't tell me to stop; Instead, he slowly unzipped his cargo pants
and widened his stance with smoke above his head like a crown.
Colors swirled in my peripheral vision as demon brew pulsed through me.
My head spun with giddiness.
Drugs in my blood, lust in my veins.
I laughed as someone bumped into me from behind. The crush of bodies
swarmed around us, and we were swallowed by the dancing mess.
Everything was surreal.
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I still couldn't feel my face.

Not an ounce of pain streaked across my back because I was floating; I'd entered
into a higher plane of existence.
I was incorporeal.
The haze wrapped around me in shades of seductive black.
Luka pulled himself free from his pants and rubbed himself leisurely against my
mouth, cold metal and velvet heat.
I stared up with wide eyes up as he stroked his pierced dick across my
lips. I have groaned deeply.
Obsidian eyes were hooded and his muscles tensed.
He was seconds away from losing control.
A sense of power rushed over me, and I slowly opened my mouth, leaned
forward, and took him in.
Cold metal on my tongue.
The music switched, and the floor vibrated to the bass as people jumped
around us with their hands in the air.
I lapped at the tip with my tongue and flicked his piercing back and forth.
Teased him slowly.
Sweat dripped down the side of his face.
For a second, I imagined a black glittering cape hanging off his shoulders,
but I blinked and it disappeared.
Pulling back, I licked only at his head like it was a lollipop. His Adam's apple bobbed
as he swallowed thickly.
Long graceful fingers reached down and gripped my chin in a punishing grip. He
held my face immobile so I couldn't move as his dark eyes flashed.
Pleasure coiled in my gut.
The moment was so intense that it left me lightheaded.
Surrealism morphed into hyperrealism as every hair on my body stood at attention.

I tingled down to the tips of my toes.

Nothing could ever compare.
Hands tangled in my curls and powerful legs pressed against my back as John
straddled me from behind.
The intensity crescendoed as it reached new heights.
Luka held my face in his grip with his dick between my lips, and John held my curls
in his fists as he pressed my face forward.
I was trapped.
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I was flying.
The twins towered above me on either side.
The party raged around us as bodies danced and the floor vibrated
beneath my knees. There was nowhere else I'd rather be.
They moved in tandem and pulled my face to the left so I was no longer
looking up at Luka.
There was a wet pop as I released him from my mouth.
For a second, I stared into the crowd, confused about what they were doing.

Then I realized.
My core pulsed, and I pressed my knees together.
The kings had stood up.
They were unmoving, disturbingly still in the middle of the dancing crowd,
as they fixed on where I knelt between the twins. Red flames leaped across
Malum's shoulders and were reflected in silver eyes. Orion whispered in
Scorpius's ear, his pretty features contorted with anger. The blind king was
grinding his teeth together with his hands fisted.
Cherry blossoms swirled. A dagger glinted like it was solid. A third eye
blinked.
The kings were close to losing all control.
They were murderous.
Good. Satisfaction was heady and warm in my chest as I remembered all
the times the kings had fucked in this very room while I watched on
dispassionately. They could proclaim their devotion to me as much as they
wanted, but it didn't change the past.
Karma was a bitch.
And so was I.
Without saying a word, the twins turned my head away from the kings.
Luka dragged his thumb across my lower lip slowly as he pulled my chin
down, then he leaned his hips forward and pressed velvet-wrapped steel
against my tongue.
I gagged around its length.
He pressed himself deeper.
John massaged my scalp as he fisted my curls tightly and pressed my head
forward.
I inhaled roughly through my nose as I was speared between them.
Someone bumped into John as they danced, and all three of us rocked, but
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they didn't release me.

“You're taking me so well, my love,” Luka said roughly as he thrust in
deep, languid strokes, then groaned under his breath, “Fuck me.”
I flushed with pleasure.
Hardness pressed against the back of my head as John stepped closer and
pinned me.
Drool dripped out of my mouth and trickled down my chin.
“We belong to each other, Aran,” John said roughly as he used my curls to bob
my head up and down faster on his twin's dick.
I tried to nod, but I couldn't move my head.
Students and soldiers stared down at me with envy on their faces as they danced
near us. They watched us with lust-glazed eyes like they were imagining taking my
place.
I let their attention wash over me in a wave of smug satisfaction.
They could look, but they would never get to touch. The twins were mine.
Luka stared down at me with rapture on his face. “I didn't exist until you came
into my life; there was no purpose or meaning to the monotony. Now I burn with life
because I live for you. Every breath I take is yours. You are the totality of my essence.
I survive by your mercy.”
I swallowed, and I groaned.
It was the most I'd ever heard him say at once.
Called fingers squeezed my chin as he thrust deeper. “You're doing beautifully,
my love. You take me so well.”
I floated on his praise.
Then he thrust deeper and stilled. John forward pushed as Luka pulled me
close and jerked against my face as he spilled himself down my throat.
It was intimate.
Overwhelming.
He pulled himself out of my mouth, and he spilled down my chin. Yo
coughed, and he pulled me to my feet, then he claimed my mouth with his.
The kiss was depraved.
I exhaled as I collapsed against his chest in a boneless heap.
In one smooth motion, John picked me up and cradled me tightly against his
chest.
“Are you okay, Aran?” I have asked.
I shivered at how intensely he said my name, and nodded sleepily. The
room spun, and my head buzzed.
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I closed my eyes.
An RJE device whirled.
Time folded, and I gladly let it go because the twins would take care of
I.
I sighed with contentment.
Water blanketed me in a hot spray, and the twins were pressed flush
against me in the narrow shower. We were back to our barracks.
John shampooed my hair, and Luka cleaned my body.
I tried to help, but my arms were too heavy.
“Relax, love,” Luka commanded. “Let us take care of you.” His eyes were
softer obsidian as he scrubbed every inch of me with painstaking attention.

I relaxed, boneless between them.

“For once, the queen has nothing to say,” John said playfully as he
massaged my scalp. “It's sad that all it took was a public blow job.” I tsked, like
he was disappointed in me.
“I'll still kill you,” I mumbled, then moaned as he dug deeper into my scalp.

I laughed. “You can try, little Smurf. You can try.”

Time melted.
A towel was wrapped around my body as another dried my hair.
Fuzzy socks were pulled onto my feet, and oversized sweatpants that didn't
belong to me were pulled up my hips. I smiled as an oversized sweatshirt
enveloped me in heat. Sandalwood and musk wafted from it deliciously.

“Duck your head, love,” Luka whispered, and I squinted with confusion as I
climbed into my bed. It was all hard plans and warm skin, and there was barely
any room.
“Shh, settle down and lie on me,” John whispered in my ear as I lay spread
atop him. “I refuse to sleep apart another night.”
“But Luka?” I asked sleepily.
“Right here, love.” Luka's hand tangled in my hair, and I opened my eyes.
He was sitting on the floor and was leaning against the low bunk bed so he
could touch me.
I furrowed my brow and asked him sleepily, “Are you comfortable?”
Luka whispered, “There's nowhere else I'd rather be.”
I fell asleep with John wrapped around me and Luka's fingers buried
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tightly in my curls.
That night, a small piece of ice in my chest thawed.
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Chapter 17
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Jinx
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OPPRESSION

DRACONIAN (ADJECTIVE): cruel, severe.

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DAY 9, HOUR 20: AN HOUR EARLIER

The shifters left for Elite Academy, and Warren went to get food from the
cafeteria.
I finally had the room to myself, and the silence was blissful.
Until it wasn't.
Knock. Knock. Someone was outside.
I stilled.
The door was enchanted to allow inhabitants entry—only an outsider would
knock.
Apprehension prickled down my spine as I realized the party had created
the perfect opportunity to get me alone. It might have been planned for that
very purpose.
Sweat broke out across my forehead.
It was a good plan.
Sun god forbid my family members miss an opportunity to drink themselves
into oblivion. Technically, I was twenty-five, but since they were under the
misconception that I was a decade younger, I was left out. They'd know I'd be
left behind.
Knock-knock-knock —knock.
The pattern was familiar.
Instantly, I felt sick to my stomach.
I was still waiting on a prosthetic for my leg and could barely maneuver
around, let alone face who was at the door.
I cursed my family for putting me in this situation. If any of them bothered
to use their critical thinking skills, then maybe I wouldn't be left to shoulder dark
consequences, but alas, they were oblivious, insensitive, incognizant, and I
was cornered.
Sitting on my lower bunk with a heavy tome spread across my lap, I
debate the best course of action.
“I know you're in there,” an ominous voice said.
With a deep, steadying breath, I closed The Ancient Art of War and
Manipulating Those Around You and tucked it under my pillow.
I was on the bottom bunk, but it still took effort to roll myself out of bed
without falling over. Grabbing onto the bedpost, I jumped on one leg.
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My remaining knee was stiff and uncomfortable.

Apparently having my leg burned completely off wasn't enough trauma,
because new growing pains were making my joints perpetually achy. The lovely
benefits of being a species who went through puberty in under a year.
I grimaced.
The door was only a few feet away, but it might as well have been thousands.
Cursing the High Court for not getting me a prosthetic by now, I hopped forward
awkwardly with my arms outstretched. They said they were acquiring one, but
every time we asked, they acted weird about it. It had to be an intimidation tactic.

A foot away, I crashed onto the floor.

I crawled awkwardly on my elbows, then grabbed the doorknob and
hoisted myself up. Foreboding washed over me as I opened the door.
Frigid air pooled into the room in a flurry of snowflakes and malfeasance.
“Hello, Jinx,” Dick said coldly as he brushed past me and entered the space
like he belonged, which made sense because a corrupt oligarch was most at home
in the suffering of others.
Cold from outside wafted in.
I hung off the door and said a quote often attributed to Plato, “The price of
apathy toward public affairs is to be ruled by evil men.”
Dick smirked. “True.”
We sized each other up as snow and ice dripped off their shoulders.
I white-knuckled the doorknob and said crisply, “Let's disregard the false
niceties and get to the point of this visit.”
The man who controlled us kept smirking at me and said nothing.
Another purposeful intimidation tactic.
Our battle of wills persisted.
We'd both shed our masks because there was no use for subterfuge
among us. We both knew the worst of each other.
Dick stood up straighter and dropped his mask. Pale skin glowed with health
and ruddy fixtures became more sculpted as he said, “I forgot how much you saw
through me.” He has gritted his teeth. “It's quite refreshing.” An obvious lie.

I pocketed my sunglasses and let him see his death in my eyes.

He had the audacity to bare his teeth with mirth.
Dick was part of the handful of people who were naturally immune to my
abilities.
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I wouldn't call them powers, because that word was synonymous with
something mighty and impressive, something with the potential to give something
to society.
My abilities were Machiavellian in their cruelty.
They only took.
Violently.
Dick wrinkled his nose as he looked around the messy room.
My family were savages, and I was used to it. To expect anything better
from them was an act of futility. So I didn't.
“What do you want?” I held my chin up high, unwilling to cow before
him like he wanted me to.
A horrible smile curled the edges of his lips. “I see you've begun
puberty.” He stared down at me.
It wasn't a question, so I didn't respond.
I waited.
Sunset blanketed the room in an eerie lavender glow, and everything the
sunlight touched sparkled. There was something off about the extreme beauty
of the realm, and it put my teeth on edge.
I had a bad feeling we'd discover something sinister in the glimmering
landscape.
It wasn't a matter of if.
It was a matter of when.
Moving quicker than my eyes could track, Dick grabbed my wrist in a
punishing grip and squeezed. The pressure was overwhelming, and my bones
creaked.
I screamed.
Something snapped.
I cried out louder as unwelcome tears streamed down my cheeks because
unlike everyone else in my family, I was physically pathetic. No amount of
mental prowess could make up for the fact that my body was flimsy.
Breakable.
Dick exploited it mercilessly.
I fell hard onto my knee and collapsed forward, my arm twisted in his
grip at a horrible angle as snot ran down my nose.
I sobbed pathetically.
Dick wrenched and twisted it further.
“PPP-Please,” I blubbered pathetically as spots danced in my vision. TO
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horrible sense of helplessness consumed me.

Click.
Metal fell to the floor, and I followed its trajectory. He released me, and I
smashed face forward, unable to stop myself in time.
Blood splattered across my shattered nose as I face-planted onto the chilled
concrete floor.
Long moments passed.
I wheezed before my jailer.
“Stand up,” Dick ordered, voice tight with annoyance like he found me
deplorable.
It took a few fumbling tries, but finally I pulled myself off the ground using the
doorknob, back pressed against it as I put as much space between us as I could.

Watery hiccups racked my slight frame.

“Stop acting so pathetic,” he spat with disgust as he glared at me like I'd
disappointed him.
I covered my mouth, but the hiccups didn't stop.
Copper, snot, and tears pooled across my hands as I trembled. to pitiful
mess.
How easy it was to break me.
Shame cornered me. The ability to suffer is a small matter —weak women
and even slaves can achieve mastery in that. Nietzsche's sexist observation was
so much crueler because it applied so perfectly to me.
How easily I suffered.
It made me feel tiny.
I was nothing like Aran.
The disgust that choked me as my knee shook and I gagged on blood was
almost worse than the pain in the first place. I hated the sight of blood because it
made me woozy.
Another weakness.
Spots slowly receded from my vision, and a noise of shock escaped me as
I stared down at the innocuous gold cuff sitting on the floor between us.
I knew from experience that a similar cuff was hidden by enchantments on his
own wrist.
“WW-Why?” I asked Shakily as I stared at the invisible metal still heavy on my
other wrist.
The sense of foreboding increased.
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I wasn't fool enough to believe it was an act of goodwill.

After I'd used my voice and frozen the worthless shifter who'd kidnapped
us back in the beast realm, Dick had increased the number of cuffs from one
to two.
He'd neutered me completely.
Sun god forbid I defend myself from attack.
His expression was bored as he pocketed the removed cuff and walked
toward my cowering form, then his face twisted with cruelty. “Let me make this
very clear, little girl.”
I bristled with indignation because we both knew I was a woman.
It was a mortifying order to be at his mercy.
Dick's voice was hard as steel. “Make no mistake, your abilities are still
mostly constrained. If you try anything—I will personally eliminate you.
Your worth only extends as far as you allow yourself to be used, understood?”
His voice cracked like a whip, and I jumped.
“Yes,” I said through gritted teeth as I raised my head and pretended to be
stronger than I was.
His expression changed to boredom, and he said clinically, “Seventeen
men and women have already been killed in this war. The numbers are
unfortunate, and our projections of the war efforts are not pretty. We've
calculated that all able bodies will be necessary to defeat the ungodly—you're
included in that number.”
I waited.
Tears and snot still running down my face.
He smirked.
“Are you not able-bodied?” he asked mockingly as he stared in the space
where my leg used to be.
I fisted my hands and didn't rise to his bait.
Instead I said slowly, “My species is banned from the High Court realms.
If I use my other abilities, I will be executed. “I'm not ignorant of my situation.”

“In peacetime, yes.” He smiled condescendingly. “This is war, and the High
Court has made an exception on your behalf. “Just like we did once before.”

I wrapped one arm around my stomach protectively. “I didn't want to.”

Instinctually I shielded my organs from a predator that wanted to
disembowell me.
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He tipped his head back and roared with laughter.

“We both know you're always the aggressor.” His expression flatlined.
“Don't we?”
“How do I know this isn't a trick to get me arrested?” I enunciated each word
as I tried to steady my jumbled thoughts. It was next to impossible with the pain
radiating through my face from my broken nose.
His face was a mask. “You don't.”
A long moment passed as neither of us spoke.
“Is that there?” I asked haughtily.
We kept staring at each other, and the longer he stood above me, the more I
wanted to scream.
He smirked and said, “The High Court will be unable to procure you a
prosthetic or hover chair, now—or in the future.”
A ringing echoed in my ears.
“Excuse me?” The room swayed around me. “How am I supposed to get
around, let alone fight?”
He tipped his head back and laughed. “You have to keep the monsters
neutered. Otherwise, they'll turn on you.” He smirked. “We both know you'll be fine.”

Fingernails digging into the concrete wall, I gestured with my head for him to
leave.
Time expanded.
He didn't go.
Muted orange light glowed around Dick, and its features hardened.
“You'll still be punished nightly to ensure your compliance. If you attempt to use
your abilities outside of battle, I'll be alerted and you will be eliminated.
If you attempt in any way to overthrow the High Court or work against our objectives
—you'll be eliminated.”
Silence stretched.
Again I smirked. “Am I clear?
“Crystal.”
He rubbed his hands together as he turned to leave. “Glad we could have this
chat. Like usual, if you tell anyone about this situation, you and everyone you care
for will be tortured beyond recognition.”
He stared into my eyes like he was trying to read my mind.
Inside my head was a vast black lake, and if he tried to step a toe inside the
waters, he'd drown.
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A part of me wanted him to try.

Breaking eye contact, he shook his head and said, “You're the only person
in centuries who has dared to challenge me.” He smirked like he knew something
I didn't, like he was complimenting me on my strength.
Blood poured down my nose as my nails scraped against concrete.
I didn't feel strong.
I felt like broken glass, shattered across the floor.
Dick opened the door.
“Wait,” I blurted out, and he stopped but didn't turn to look at me as frigid air
wafted into the room.
For a split second, his side profile changed into something marble-esque.
He looked like a familiar statue.
Dick's ruddy features returned, and I blinked rapidly.
Snowflakes blasted against my skin as the room's temperature dropped
further.
“Why take one cuff off now?” I asked. “Why not wait until there are
fewer soldiers? Why do this now? What do you know about the war?”
Dick left without another word, and the door swung closed.
Outside, I glimpsed a towering figure in a dark cloak. Their blue eyes glowed
like lightning and were staring directly at me. They always accompanied him.

The door slammed shut.

I slid down onto the floor. For a long moment, I lay panting as shock
permeated my bones. The silence surrounded me.
Cradling my throbbing face, I acknowledged that Nietzsche would be satisfied.

The abyss had gazed back into me.

And it hurts.
Warren started when he returned a few minutes later and found me
dejectedly sprawled out.
He swore and fell to his knees as he snarled, “They can't keep fucking
hurting you like this. “We have to tell the others.”
He knew I was tortured at night and sometimes people paid me to visit, but
he didn't know it was Dick. He didn't know the cloaked figure was usually present.
He didn't know anything that mattered.
Secrets stood between my life and his death.
Because of what I was, everyone I knew was at risk.
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“No,” I said as he wiped blood off my face with a wet washcloth. “We'll
tell them I tripped and fell.”
The shifter frowned, but he didn't argue as he carried me back to my bed.
He gently put down a sandwich from the cafeteria.
“Thank you. “You're a good friend.” I stared down at my covers and cradled
my wrist.
Warren sighed as he climbed up into his bunk above mine. “What are we
going to do?”
“What we always do.” I gingerly reopened my book with one hand and
started reading. “Survive.”
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Chapter 18
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Aran
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TRAINING

MATUTINE (ADJECTIVE): rising in or just before the dawn.

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DAY 10, HOUR 5

“Wake up. It's time to train.”

I cracked open an eyelid to find Malum shaking my shoulder. Excessive
drug use at the party last night made my skin feel clammy.
My head throbbed.
The bronze king glared down at me, silver eyes gleaming eerily in the
darkness. Scorpius and Orion flanked him on either side.
The clock on the wall read 5:00 am
We'd returned home from the party at 4:00 am—I was going to kill them.

Who did this to a person?

"No." I turned over. “Go away.” Closing my eyes, I burrowed deeper into the
warmth.
A hangover pounded through my skull and made me regret ever trying to
find a will to live.
Fingers tangled in my curls and pulled as Malum whispered fiercely, “It's
crucial to the war effort that we master our powers. Every day we waste could
be another soldier's death. The High Court is waiting for us to be able to
perform.”
I rolled my eyes. “You just want to force me to mate. Don't act like it's any
other reason.”
There was an awkward pause.
Malum dragged his hands over his face like he was tired. “I don't care about
that—”
“Please,” I said sarcastically.
Who did he think he was fooling?
He sighed loudly and, sounding defeated, said, “I just want you to be safe
and…well. If that means you won't bond—so be it. But we still need to try to
master our powers. “One thing I won't do is put you in needless danger.”
I took a moment to let his words sink in.
Then I shrugged.
“If it's just about training, then let the soldiers die,” I mumbled. “I hope the
ungodly win.” I squeezed my eyes tight and wished everyone around me would
stop trying so hard to save everyone else.
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Every man for themself was my life motto.

I'd always said this.
“You don't mean that.” Malum's voice was rough from sleep, and I shivered.

“I really do.”
The covers were ripped away, and I shrieked with horror as the cold became
crippling.
“Shut the fuck up,” Vegar shouted sleepily from across the room.
I whispered, “Sorry,” as I grabbed the covers back from his hands. Frost
marks covered the fabric where I grabbed, and I repositioned the blankets so
the ice wouldn't touch my skin.
The warmth from the bed was a harsh contrast to the freezing air.
I shivered miserably.
Malum whispered back angrily, “So you're fine with the ungodly murdering
our soldiers because you wanted to sleep? Or you're fine with us unleashing
our powers and killing them anyway?”
“Both,” I mumbled.
“Just wake up,” Scorpius said tiredly, like he didn't want to have this
conversation. "Por favor."
I buried my face in the warm body laying beneath me. “I hate you three so
much,” I mumbled. “But especially Malum.”
“I know,” Malum said darkly. “Let's go.”
I groaned.
Once again, I wished I weren't such a good person, because it was hard
being so sun-god-damned magnanimous. I should get an award for how much I
gave to others. It was exhausting being the backbone of society.
Also why was everyone so obsessed with me?
With a hangover pounding in my skull, I pushed myself out of John's warm
embrace and stumbled over Luka's sleeping figure sprawled partially on the
floor and leaning against the lower bunk so he could be close to us.
The twins mumbled in their sleep.
“I'll be back.” I ruffled their messy hair and gave them both a smacking kiss
on the forehead. Icy blue outlines of my lips lingered on their foreheads, and I
admired my work.
“Bye, love,” Luka murmured, and my heart hurt because he was just so
adorable all rumpled on the floor with his arms wrapped around his twin.
Cuteness aggression made me want to bite him.
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Malum swore, and I was 99 percent sure he purposely tripped over Luka
and kicked him in the stomach.
“Don't hurt him,” I snarled. Normal aggression made me want to stab him.

The kings made noises of annoyance.

I scoffed back at them as I fumbled through my drawer and got dressed.
So much for them prostrating themselves before me and swearing to be
my hounds. Watching them pretend to be remorseful was giving me whiplash.

So much for Malum crawling.

It was like they could only pretend to be meek and repentant for a few hours
before they were overloaded with aggression.
I zipped up my jacket and shivered as I followed the harbingers of doom
out into the chilly morning where an ice storm raged. Another gray day.
Being mated to them was proof that sexuality was not a choice.
As we left the sleeping barracks, instead of walking ahead of me like I
expected, Malum fell into step behind me. Scorpius and Orion flanked my sides.

“With all due respect,” I whispered to them, “which by the way, is none—
why do we have to train at the ass crack of dawn?”
They didn't respond.
As we walked through the snowy forest further away from the camp, Orion
kept looking down at me with a strange expression.
It almost looked like pity.
I shifted back and forth uncomfortably as I shivered because whoever had
decided that our uniforms didn't need gloves deserved to be shot.
Repeatedly.
Scorpius grabbed my right hand.
“I'm warming you up.” He gave no other explanation.
Orion grabbed my other hand and held tight.
It was nice to hold hands.
Comforting.
That was how I found myself walking for miles through a quiet, snowy
forest holding hands with my enemies.
I tried to swing my arm dramatically and skip to make fun of them, but
they flexed and I couldn't move my arms an inch.
“Boring,” I mumbled.
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Only once did the kings try to make small talk, and it wasn't what I ever
would have expected. Orion mumbled something about Luka putting on quite
a show, and Scorpius asked me if John had always had such a side to him.
I gaped at them in disbelief, unsure how to handle the fact that they were
intrigued by the Princes.
Malum just grunted, like he was used to their antics.
Then I ruined the small talk by bringing up how Luka's piercing felt in my
mouth. Apparently, that was too far. All the men glared at me (they were
jealous of how good I was at sucking dick).
As we left the valley and climbed up one of the towering mountains, we
were able to speak at full volume. The wind howled with so much force that
our voices did not carry up in the higher elevation.
As the air thinned, I got more annoyed that I'd left the comfort of my bed.
The weather mimicked my mood. Tiny snowflakes transformed into thick, wet
flakes and the snow-covered dirt was replaced with icy rocks.
I slipped on black ice.
Arms flailing, I tipped forward toward the edge.
Malum grabbed me and barked, “Be careful.” Orion and Scorpius also
scrambled to hold my arms.
They pulled me to safety and let me go.
Silver eyes narrowed. “You need to watch where you're going. Do you ever
pay attention? What is wrong with you?”
I closed my eyes. Three. Seven. Nine. Eleven. Thirteen.
Nope, counting didn't work.
I whirled on him. “How about you watch where you're going, Mitch?”
“Don't call me that.” Flames exploded across his arms, and I leaned toward
the warmth. His sleeves must have been fireproof, because his clothes didn't
melt away.
“Then don't act like a Mitch and I won't,” I countered.
I have glowered. “Well, don't almost fall off the mountain like an idiot, and I
won't act that way.”
“Maybe I wanted to fall off,” I countered.
Silver eyes sharpened into steel. “Try it and see what happens.”
I gasped with fake outrage. “Are you threatening me?”
“Maybe I am.” Flames climbed up his head. “What are you going to do
about it?”
I pointed at his chest. “Don't you dare tempt me.”
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“You're all talk.” He smirked cruelly.

“Move it along,” Scorpius ordered as he grabbed Malum by the back of the
neck and dragged him up the side of the mountain. Orion motioned for me to
walk forward like a gentleman, and we resumed our hike.
Malum shot dirty glares back at me over his shoulder.
I mimed snapping his neck.
His eyes widened, and it was my turn to smirk.
“Watch out, baby girl,” I mouthed, and he shook his head like I disturbed him.

Mission accomplished. Slay (in the celebratory sense).

Thirty minutes later, huffing on thin air, I asked, “Why again do we have
to go so far away to train?”
“For the tenth time,” Scorpius said impatiently, “so we don't accidentally
hypnotize our fellow soldiers and murder them. “We don't know exactly how far
Orion's voice projects, but in our experience, it travels much further than normal
sound.”
I sighed and kept climbing. “Well, I'm willing to risk it.”
“We know,” Orion said loudly.
Scorpius and Malum stopped moving on the side of the mountain. They
were entranced. Frozen. Eyes glazed over.
“That shut them up,” I snickered, and Orion narrowed his eyes like I was
ridiculous, but I didn't miss the way the corner of his mouth turned up.
We had a secret.
It was nice to have something over the other kings, something only the two
of us knew.
Unfortunately, they reanimated a second later and resumed climbing up the
mountainside, none the wiser that Orion had temporarily frozen them with his
voice.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Malum stopped climbing and pointed
at a low boulder. “Here will work.”
Sun god help whoever had to purchase property with him, if this was the
extent of his judgment.
“Oh yes,” I said sarcastically. “Thank the sun god we've found this rock
in particular.” I patted the top. “I like the poop-brown color.”
We were halfway up the side of the jagged cliff face surrounded by nothing
but snow and icy wind.
The visibility was shit.
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Malum snarled, “That's not funny.”

Scorpius snickered, and I pointed at him with satisfaction. Malum looked
like he was having an aneurysm.
“Are you sure about that?” I asked as I kicked a rock, and it tumbled off the
mountain's sheer cliff face. I admired the steep incline; you could really do some
damage if you fell off. All your bones would be easily broken.
“Oooh, I'm going to fall.” I flailed my arms and intended to stumble.
Faster than my eyes could track, Malum grabbed me around the waist and
he threw us both away from the edge.
I landed on top of him.
For a long moment, we lay in stunned silence.
“You're an idiot. It was just a joke,” I said haughtily as Orion and Scorpius yanked
me to my feet.
Malum exploded into angry scarlet flames as he stood. His expression was pure
violence.
“Sadie would have laughed,” I pointed out as I pursed my lips and rubbed my
hands together. They were frozen solid.
Men truly had no sense of humor.
“Don't mention that whore in front of us,” Scorpius sneered.
I gaped at him. Sadie wasn't exaggerating when she'd said the men were still
jealous of her for having fake shower sex with me.
“Oh my sun god,” I exclaimed. “Is it hard?”
The three of them straightened and looked around for danger. “Is it hard?”

“Being so stupid?” I asked at the same time Scorpius asked, “My cock?”
I ignored him.
Flames sizzled as they shot higher off Malum's arms, and I smirked with
triumph. It was too easy to rile him up. I might have even called it a hobby.
Their ire was even more satisfying because they thought I was their precious
Revered. They were all, you're our mate, we'll kill everyone and cherish you forever.
They were so into me.
It was so cringy.
I pitied them.
They couldn't handle me—few could. I had the body of a large bird, mind of a
lunatic, and personality of a divorced middle-aged woman with a shopping addiction.

I was perfect.
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“Deep breaths,” Scorpius barked at Malum and grabbed his neck in a tight
grip.
I covered my mouth to hide my laughter, and Orion looked over at me with
exasperation.
“Is Mitch seriously going to kill us all right now with his fire?” I asked
between gasps.
Somehow I'd gone from sleeping in the warm embrace of John to being
halfway up a mountainside while Malum struggled not to burn us all to death.
Emotionally, this was too much for me.
Delirium was setting in. Also, I was 99 percent sure I was still intoxicated.

No one responded, because they were too busy trying to help Malum get
control of himself.
To help the situation, I pointed at the flaming king and said, “You need
therapy.”
A muscle in Malum's jaw ticked, and when he spoke, flames shot out of his
mouth. “We are literally in therapy with you.” He roared and painted the cold
air in shades of scarlet.
I grimaced.
Some people didn't get sarcasm.
I sat down on the ugly boulder and blew into my cupped hands. “How long
is this going to take?” Tucking my pipe between my lips, I closed my eyes with
relief as I inhaled drugs. “Can we hurry this up? “I want to go back and cuddle
the twins.”
Malum screamed out more fire.
“You sound like a dying cow,” I said as I held my arms out to get some of
the warmth from his fire. I exhaled with relief as I defrosted. At least he was
good for something.
Malum fell to his knees, still screaming, and the scene was reminiscent of
when he'd lost control on the shore of Elite Academy. Back then I'd been
concerned about him and had stepped in to help.
That was before he'd chosen me for the last competition.
Now, I didn't care.
I studied my abused nails and made a mental list of products. Cuticle
softener wasn't a need; it was a must. A clear coat would do me wonders, and
what did a woman have to do around here to get some vanilla-scented lotion?
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My fictional lover would have given me a basket with nail care on the first day
of being in this hostile environment.
A good man would protect my cuticles.
I grimaced as I looked at the kings—these weren't good men.
Flames burned hotter as they rolled off Malum and his mates tried desperately
to calm him down.
At least I had Sadie because she would definitely have a miniature spa
day with me. She was always down.
“Are you even listening to me? What did I just say?” Malum asked loudly, and
I realized he'd been speaking.
I gnawed on my lower lip and narrowed my eyes.
"Forks?" I asked slowly.
Malum chucked a boulder—different from the boulder—off the side of the
mountain and screamed louder. Scorpius tackled him and started whispering
frankly in his ear.
Orion stared at me and mouthed, “Are you doing okay?”
His eyes were haunted, and I had a strange feeling he wanted to ask me
something else but didn't know how to say it.
I was going to ask what he meant, but Malum bellowed and slammed his fist
into another rock. It shattered into pieces, and when he stood up, his knuckles
were swollen and coated in blood.
The memory of when I'd thrown myself fruitlessly at the wall haunted
I.
How come it was the men who had all the power? How come I was just the
stupid, useless Revered that needed to be taken care of and stop their murderous
rampages?
I wanted to punch rocks and smash them.
I wanted to rampage.
Sun god, the things I would do to people with that type of strength.
I rubbed at my temples and announced, “I'm bringing this up to Dr.
Palmer next session. Frankly, your flames are giving me a migraine. Can you turn
it down?”
I wasn't kidding.
The bright flames were blinding on my corneas, and a headache throbbed
more intensely.
I closed my eyes.
“You're hurting her!” Scorpius shouted, then whispered into his ear,
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“You know what…” His voice dropped lower, and I couldn't hear.
“Know what?” I asked.
No one answered.
Malum's flames slowly extinguished, and he looked dejected, sitting on the
ground with his head cradled in his hands. Scorpius rubbed his back while
Orion patted his head.
I would have felt bad.
But I didn't.
What could I say—bitches were harsh like that. For context, I was bitches.

“Break's over team.” I clapped my hands. “Let's hurry this up.”

Malum stumbled to his feet, and all three kings turned their attention toward
me.
I took a step back.
Their expressions were mournful.
I glanced behind my shoulder to see if they were looking at someone else,
because the energy radiating off them put my teeth on edge. Apparently giving
the twins a blow job in front of them had broken their spirits.
If I'd known that it was all it would take, I would have done it sooner.
Sun god, I hadn't known oral sex was such a big deal to them.
“So how do we want to do this?” I asked.
“Take off your coat and shirt,” Scorpius ordered.
I rolled my eyes and spat at his feet. “You're a pig.”
“What did I say about spitting?” he asked in a mocking, cruel voice, and all
of a sudden, I was struggling to breathe.
He stalked across the rocks and leaned close to me. “I said—that I'd spit in
your pretty little mouth if you ever spat at me again.”
His breath mixed with snowflakes and fanned against the side of my face.
“Did you forget, Arabella? Or are you purposefully being a brat?”
I forgot how to swallow.
“Um?” I asked eloquently.
He arched his brow and sneered, “Open up.”
My jaw unhinged, and his eyes widened with surprise, then I snapped it
closed. “You gotta be quick,” I taunted—opening and closing it repeatedly.
He looked down at me with pity.
Yep, I was 100 percent still intoxicated.
Scorpius rolled his milky eyes and took a step back. Apparently, I'd
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killed the mood. Oh darn.

He explained, “You need to reveal your wings. “That's why you need to
take off your clothes.”
“Fine.” I ripped off my coat and pulled my long-sleeved thermal over my
head so I was in nothing but a sports bra. The Necklace of Death and diamond
bracelet were warm against my skin even though they were exposed to the
elements.
The kings stared at me hungrily.
Their hooded eyes were locked on my sports-bra-covered chest, and I
looked down.
I crossed my arms over my chest. It wasn't like I was well endowed in
that department, so I didn't understand why they were acting obsessed.
Instead of wondering about the inner workings of deranged men, I took a
deep breath and focused on unused muscles.
Appendages exploded from my back.
Blue crystal feathers clattered together in my peripheral vision, and I
twisted my torso back and forth, making them shimmer in the sunlight.
They were stunning.
The beauty lost her appeal ten seconds later as I panted and struggled to
stand up straight under their weight. The wings were heavy, and it felt like
someone had tied boulders to my shoulder blades.
I leaned forward to stop myself from tipping backward.
Sweat dripped uncomfortably down my sides from the strain even though
it was freezing.
“Now what?” I asked.
Molten silver eyes melted me where I stood. “Now you stop us.” Malum
agreed to his mates.
Orion opened his mouth.
And we walked together into hell.
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Chapter 19
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Aran
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DEVILS UNLEASHED

IGNEOUS (ADJECTIVE): of, relating to, or resembling fire.

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DAY 10, HOUR 10

Click. Click. Click.

The gold hardware on the kings' ears levitated upward and separated into
shards. Three gold crowns floated above their heads.
Snow whipped around them in a frenzy as the icy wind shrieked. The
storm picked up, and the sky darkened.
Rocks groaned under the onslaught.
I bent my knees and leaned further forward as I tried to alleviate the weight
on my back muscles. Part of me was shocked that we were really doing this
right now. Do not preamble.
The wind and ice slammed against me, and I cursed the mercurial weather.

Silver, brown, and milky white eyes darkened to black, and talons
lengthened on their hands, eerily similar to the serrated ice talons I'd donned
when I killed my mother.
Gore in my mouth, blood dripping down my chin, Mother howling as I
consumed her heart and stole her crown.
Malum's baritone voice dragged me out of the memories as he proclaimed,
“As the Ignis from the illustrious House of Malum, I invoke the power of my
mates.”
He pulled the silver dagger from his throat and said, “As the crowned King
of the Sun God, I invoke the power of my mates.”
“Venimus! We came,” Orion sang loudly as he triggered the sequence that
unleashed their powers. The three of them went unnaturally still. They became
mindless.
My eyes widened at the sheer beauty of his voice.
A petal slapped against my face as cherry blossoms mixed with snow in a
swirling vortex of white.
It was magnificent.
It was terrifying.
Scorpius proclaimed, “Vidimus. We saw,” and the eye tattoo on his neck
blinked open. It stared straight at me. His blind eyes glowed, and he turned his
head like he was searching for people.
“Vicimus. We conquered,” Malum finished as flames poured off him.
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My thighs trembled, and I put my hands on my knees to keep myself

upright. Crystal feathers clattered against the rocks as my wings dropped.
I wanted to lie down.
Flames tumbled off Malum faster, like the air was kerosine, and somehow
the frozen mountainside caught fire.
It should have been impossible.
Somehow the kings' power broke the laws of thermodynamics.
I gnawed on my lips as I stared at the three men who were in a trance.
It hit me like a punch to the gut that this was an astronomically stupid idea.

How was I supposed to do anything to stop them?

Ice radiated around me, but whenever I tried to channel it into something
different, nothing happened. It was like I was an inanimate frozen object,
incapable of anything but misery.
No, I was not having a pity party.
It was called being aware of your limitations.
My knees knocked together, and it took everything I had not to sprawl
down under the weight of my wings.
“Stop it,” I said and pointed my icy hands at the fire. Immediately I felt
like a fool because nothing happened.
If anything, the warmth felt delicious, and I wanted more of it. Why would I
try to put out the fire that was warming the chill from my bones? I wanted to
flame it brighter.
“Stop the fire,” I repeated lamely to the kings and envisioned ice exploding
from my fingertips toward the devils like it had when I'd fallen atop Jinx and
stopped them.
At least, that was how I imagined it happening. It wasn't clear to me how I'd
stopped them.
I gnawed on my lip as the flames expanded across the mountainside.
Swearing under my breath, I visualized putting out the fire. My stomach
twisted with apprehension.
No ice exploded off my hands toward the scarlet inferno.
If anything, frost receded from my fingers as the air warmed around me. Yo
thawed and basked in the inferno.
I clapped my hands loudly and tried a different approach. “Snap out of it.”

The kings remained mindless beings of fire and death. The very unwell
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part of me was jealous. It would be nice if I could sink into a mindless craze and
stop worrying about my actions.
Shockingly, they didn't stop.
No one could say I hadn't tried.
The mountain became uncomfortably warm as scarlet flames expanded in
every direction. They leaped high into the air and formed a wall of fire.
I squinted against the brightness while I inhaled the heat greedily.
The kings were shadowy outlines, untouched in the middle of an inferno.
Tools of death waiting to be deployed.
For a split second, I had the horrible sense that I was the one supposed to be
doing something, and it didn't feel like it had to do with stopping them. It felt like
they were working an enchantment over me and lulling me into a
trance.
What else could be the fire's purpose?
There were no enemies around, and it was just the four of us up in the
thin air of the mountains with snow and rocks all around.
My eyelids fluttered shut.
I was unbelievably tired, and the flames called to me. They melted me in
the most intoxicating way.
The fractured, icy bits of my soul thawed.
The Necklace of Death and diamond bracelet warmed and vibrated until my
skin buzzed.
It was heavenly.
Bending forward so I could get closer to the raging fire, I enjoyed the delicious
warmth as it chased away the invasive chill that was always present in my bones.

I wanted to curl up like a cat and bask in the inferno.

I wanted to lie on a bed of ashes for eternity.
It was pure relief after years of being plagued by chattering teeth and goose
bumps.
After a lifetime of ice, I finally knew what genuine warmth felt like.
It was everything.
I wanted more because it was so much better than I could have ever
imagined.
My legs went out, and I fell to my knees. The rocks were toasty against my
chilled flesh, and I pressed myself into the ground.
Everything became hazy in the best way.
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The heat intensified, and I sighed with relief as my lungs thawed.

I closed my heavy lids and drifted off.
Int.
Blissful.
Sleep.

“Wake up!”
Someone begged down at me, and I batted at them. “Shut up,” I mumbled as
I tried to sink back into the warm darkness.
It was divine.
“She's fine.” A different person sighed with relief, and I shivered as cold
battered my face.
“No, she's clearly not fucking fine.”
There was a smacking noise and what sounded like a fight.
“I am fine,” I said sleepily as I curled tighter into a ball and mourned the
exquisite warmth because, yet again, everything was uncomfortably cold.
“More heat,” I begged.
There was silence.
Then someone broke into laughter. “Hear that, Corvus. She wants more heat.
“Sun god fucking damn it, I can't do this.”
“Arabella, wake up right now,” Malum ordered as he yanked me to my feet.

I narrowed my eyes at the angry devil snarling in my face and immediately

wished I was sleeping again.
"Que?" I asked petulantly.
Scorpius filled my vision, and his jaw was tight with anger. “Why did the three
of us just snap out of our powers to find twelve hours had passed and you were
sleeping peacefully in the middle of a fucking fire?”
My eyes shot open as memories rushed back. The blizzard had stopped, and
the night was cold and still. More stars were visible than in the valley because we
were halfway up the mountain.
I stumbled out of Malum's embrace.
My wings had retracted, and the awful weight was gone. In its wake, energy
strummed through me.
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I felt better than I had in a long time.

Alert.
Strangely healthy.
I felt limber, and the pervasive cold was gone.
It felt like I'd come out of a monthlong coma with a new lease on life. For
the first time in forever, I didn't feel a crushing emptiness.
I was satisfied.
“Wow,” I said slowly because the eleven snow-covered rocks were now
scorched black as far as the eye could see in every direction, as if a fire had
raged for hours.
“Once we unleashed our powers, what did you do?” Malum's deep voice
snapped me out of my thoughts.
He glowed at me, a dark god in a barren wasteland of scorched earth
and anger. Snow whipped angrily back and forth.
Silver eyes narrowed. “Tell me you used one of your wings to stab me or
that you tried to counter my fire with ice. Because that's what we expected you
to do.”
All three of the kings were standing uncomfortably close as they waited for
me to speak.
I kicked a rock, ducked my head, and mumbled, “I was going to get to
that.” My cheeks burned with embarrassment, and I couldn't look at them.
I had no idea why I'd fallen asleep instead of trying to stop them.
It was strange, even for me.
A rough sound escaped Malum's throat, and Scorpius sneered, “Please tell
us. What part of the stopping us did you get to?”
I ripped a flap of skin off my lower lip.
Threw it to the rocks.
He lifted my nails to gouge harder, but Orion grabbed my wrist and brought
it to my side, his long lashes fluttering as he looked down at me with concern.
“You're upsetting her,” he whispered. “Take a step back. Give her some
space.”
Shockingly, Malum and Scorpius obeyed.
“Here, let's get you dressed,” Orion mouthed as he grabbed my undershirt
and pulled it over my head.
Still reeling from my own strange behavior, I stood still and let him dress
me. I zipped up my coat and brushed snow out of my hair.
“There,” he whispered. “Are you feeling warmer?”
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I stupidly agreed.
He smiled down at me, and a new warmth prickled in my chest. “I took a
nap in the heat,” I blurted out.
There was a long pause as they processed what I'd said.
A muscle in Malum's jaw ticked, and he opened his mouth. I turned my
head to the side to avoid his censure, but my eyes widened.
Rocks were scorched black miles down the mountainside and stopped
inches from the valley.
Holy sun god.
Sadie. Jinx.
They'd almost been murdered because of my idiocy.
Emotion and energy burst through my veins, and I vibrated from the
onslaught.
Malum said, “What do you—”
I didn't catch the rest of his sentence because I darted down the side of the
mountain, trying to get back to camp.
Boots pounded against rocks as they sprinted after me.
Malum bellowed at the top of his lungs, “What the fuck do you mean?
“You took a nap?”
“I don't know!” I yelled over my shoulder as I ran faster. “I got really tired.”

“Excuse me?” Malum's voice was so deep that the hair on the back of my
neck stood up. He didn't like my answer.
Neither did I.
Scorpius swore. “You're going to be the death of us.”
“I don't know what came over me,” I shouted into the night as I kept
running. “It was weird.”
“Do you think this is a joke?” Malum's voice was closer. “Do you think all
this is a bloody fucking lark? Do you know what's at stake—I was really worried
about you!”
I sprinted with all my might.
Pretended not to hear him.
Nothing was funny.
It was all falling apart around me.
Crumble.
Memories of Orion chasing me down a marble corridor played in my
mind as black boots slammed against icy rocks, and I slid forward.
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My arms pumped.
I threw myself down the side of the mountain, half sliding, half sprinting
as fast as I could with my heart hammering in my chest. I was going insane.
The storm picked up.
My muscles were warm and ready to be used, and I exploded forward
with unbridled adrenaline.
Adrenaline pumped through my veins.
Snow whipped my face, and my eyes watered from the frozen air.
For the first time since we'd started to train together, I brought the kings
back to the camp.
For hours, they couldn't catch me because fear was truly the best
motivator
But I wasn't running from them.
I was running from myself.
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Chapter 20
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Corvus Malum
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THERAPY

RIPOSTE (NOUN): a retaliatory verbal reply.

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DAY 11, HOUR 5

“So how did the last week of—” Dr. Palmer looked down at her clipboards like she
was reading off something prepared by the High Court “—training and battle go?”

I shifted, and my thigh bumped against Arabella's.

Rain splattered against the window, and it was gray outside.
At the beginning of the session, I'd made sure to take the spot next to her on
the couch. We were pressed flush against one another because there wasn't
enough room for all four of us.
There was a patch of frost beneath her feet on the carpet, and as I shifted my
foot closer, the ice melted into water.
I needed her next to me.
Lately my control on my fire was tenuous at best, and it wanted to
explode from me and burn the world.
Whenever I was around Arabella, the urges intensified. But the pain was
nothing compared to the memory of her being on a palace floor while she was
tortured.
The threadbare couch creaked as I spread my legs wider and reassured
myself that my Revered was okay. If anyone wanted to torture her, they'd have to
go through me.
Arabella mumbled something under her breath about manspreading and
wanting to stab me.
I pretended not to hear her.
Cracking my knuckles, I focused on the severe-looking therapist instead of
releasing my flames and demanding that Arabella tell me every single wrong that
had been done to her.
Eventually I'd discover it all.
In the meantime, I was making a list.
Dr. Palmer cleared her throat and peered at us over her thin spectacles.
Not one spoke.
This session was the worst one yet because she kept asking us to recap our
last week.
I would rather die.
In summary, our Revered had allowed herself to get stabbed in battle and
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had almost bled out, she'd had sex with the twins in front of us at a party, we'd
scorched the side of a mountain, she'd run away from us and straight into the
arms of the twins, and we were no closer to mastering our abilities.
It had been the worst week of my life.
Easily.
Dr. Palmer sighed with exasperation, then squinted at his clipboard. “It says
here you successfully defeated the ungodly at the first battle. Tell me about it.
Did anything especially traumatizing happen?”
Arabella choked.
I patted her back and glared at the therapist. “Get her water. “Now.”
Dr. Palmer frowned but handed over a cup of water.
Arabella gulped it down while I rubbed soothing circles on her back and tried
not to tangle my fingers in her blue curls.
She didn't pull away.
My fingers clenched as I remembered a slur was carved into her skin. I
forced my hands wide and kept rubbing.
The arm on the other side of the couch went up in flames.
Scorpius muttered something derogatory under his breath as he smacked
out the flames with his sleeves, and Orion tried to peer past me to look at our
Revered.
I draped my right arm over his shoulder, and he snuggled against me. I have
turned his face so he could stare at her.
Water splashed over the rim of the water cup and fell as snowflakes onto
her clothes as she took a sip.
A noise of distress rumbled in my chest.
Everyone turned to stare at me, and I ignored them. Lifting my chin high, I
concentrated on keeping the flames contained to my skin.
“Aran, from your reaction”—Dr. Palmer looked at her shaking hands pointedly
—“it seems that something did happen in the battle. Let's talk about it.”

Her trembling intensified, and the water in the cup turned to ice.
My upper lip pulled back. How dare she ask such intrusive questions of my
Revered?
Only I could pester her about her choices.
This random woman had no right to distress her.
Scarlet shooting off my fingertips, I leaned back and draped my arm over
the cushion behind Arabella as I fantasized about Dr. Palmer's expression
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when she went up in flames.

I felt significantly better.
Maybe therapy was working?
“Please, Aran?” Dr. Palmer looked at her expectantly.
”
There was a long pause. “Fine—I'll tell you.
I glanced down at her in surprise.
It never failed to shock me, having a woman for a Revered. No one would
accuse Arabella of being weak, especially after her performance in the
Legionnaire Games, but she was clearly more empathetic than the three of us.
She was a composite of contradictions: kind and playful, sad and morose,
a victim and an aggressor, tenacious and merciless.
I wanted to crawl under her skin and learn every nuance.
My fingers curled around a turquoise curl that stuck out of her messy hair
and hung over the edge of the couch.
Arabella was also shockingly pretty.
Her arching cheekbones and lush lips haunted me. Dark lashes fluttered
over wide navy eyes that were rimmed in dark circles and highlighted with a
slashing scar. Sleek muscles tapered into curves.
“Something did happen in the battle,” she whispered, and Dr. Palmer clicked
his pen in anticipation.
Arabella wet her lower lip, and I swallowed a groan, unable to tear my eyes
away from her.
Now that I had gotten used to the idea, I was more than content with the
House of Malum having its first female Revered. It was not a sign of weakness
but rather showcased how strong we were because we would take care of her.

Our Revered was someone softer and kinder who needed Protectors and a
powerful Ignis to shield her.
It made sense.
Before us the realms had not been kind to her.
Now she had us, and we would not be kind to the realms on her behalf.
Sure we'd fucked up badly at Elite Academy and we still had to make it up
to her. There was a reason the sun god only chose devils for his kings.
Unlike angels, we couldn't be constrained. When we wanted something, we
didn't stop until we got it.
Period.
Going forward, we would shield Arabella like no mate had ever been
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shielded before. We hadn't been lying when we'd called ourselves her hounds.

We were hers to use.

She just didn't know what that meant yet, but she would.
Cherry-red lips parted. Arabella acknowledged like she was fortifying herself,
then blurred in one breath,
“I-got-stabbed-in-the-stomach-with-an-enchanted-sword-and-would-
have-died-but-didn't-because-I'm-the-fae-queen-and-can-only-die-by-
having-my-heart-ripped-out-and-eaten-like-I- “did-to-my-mother-which-is-
weird-because-actually-I'm-an-angel-so-I-don't-understand-how-I-can-be-
queen.”
Arabella collapsed back like it had physically hurt her to speak, and she
waited for a response.
Preoccupied with what she'd revealed, she didn't notice she'd slumped
against my side.
I noticed.
Dr. Palmer's eyes widened.
I tucked my arm around Arabella's side protectively and glared at the
therapist, daring her to say something upsetting.
I didn't like what she'd done, but I didn't want her to have to relive it.
My left hand rested against Arabella's forearm, and cold wafted off her
sweatshirt. Her skin must be freezing if I could feel the chill through her clothes,
especially since it was uncomfortably warm in the cramped office.
Lately ice trailed behind her wherever she went, and I didn't like it. None of
the other angels radiated cold like my Revered did, and I was worried something
was wrong.
When we'd first arrived at the war camp, Jinx informed us that Arabella's
mother was renowned for her power. It had driven her to madness and the angel
governing body refused to grant her wings.
Needing to do something to help, I tucked Arabella closer to me like I
created a small fire in my right palm, then laid my flaming hand on her lap.
Subconsciously, she huddled closer to me and the flame.
With Orion leaning against my right and Arabella pressed against my left, I
felt like I was flying.
I reached over and grabbed Scorpius's shoulders so all three of them were
touching me.
Instantly, I relaxed.
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I was an Ignis taking care of his mates.

I was warming my Revered.
It was a dream that a month ago I'd thought would never come true.
Dr. Palmer scribbled furiously on his clipboard, then glared over his
spectacles. “Do you feel like you've been processing getting stabbed and almost
dying? Have you been thinking about this traumatic event a lot?”
I gnashed my teeth.
Dr. Palmer ignored me.
Arabella pulled out her pipe, inhaled smoke, and said hoarsely, “I feel the
same as always.” An opaque crow settled on her shoulder.
“And how do you normally feel?” Dr. Palmer asked.
Arabella scoffed. “Empty.”
I jolted, Orion made a sad noise, and Scorpius muttered something
harshly as all three of us remembered the hollow sensation in her memory.
Did she still feel that way?
I wanted to scream.
Her crow cawed, and my eyes widened; While she'd been sobbed on the
palace floor, her mother had accused her of setting monstrous birds free from
their gilded cages. Was that why she kept the bird as her companion?
I tucked her tighter against my side, and she scooted closer.
My heart soared.
My eyes burned with pressure.
“Could you expand on the emptiness you feel? Try to put it into more words.”
Dr. Palmer scribbled aggressively on his clipboard.
“It feels like I'm missing something.”
“And when did this start?”
“I woke up one day at fourteen years old, and the world was colored in
shades of dark blue and gray.” Arabella stared off into the distance like she was
somewhere else. “It was freezing cold. “I remember it vividly because for the
first time in my life, living felt like a chore.”
Dr. Palmer furrowed his brow and stopped writing. “You mean you felt like
the world was colored in shades of dark blue and gray.”
“No, the colors changed.” Arabella shook her head.
“Well, to start, you need to recognize that you just felt that way.” Dr.
Palmer waved his pen. “The colors weren't actually different.”
“Yes, they were,” Orion whispered.
Everyone turned to him.
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“What did you say?” Dr. Palmer asked.

I scoffed. “She said the colors were different, so they were. Ask something
else,” I spoke harshly to end the conversation because we couldn't let Aran
know we were in her memories.
She would want to stop the connection.
We were desperate to link ourselves to her.
Any way we could.
Dr. Palmer bristled but looked at Arabella and changed the subject. “How
is your relationship coming along with your mates? Do you trust one another
more after the battle?”
“No,” Arabella said at the same time we answered in unison, “Yes.”
Arabella whipped her head toward us. “What are you talking about?”
Navy eyes narrowed. “You three have done nothing to earn my trust.”
Scorpius scoffed loudly.
Arabella gritted her teeth and asked condescendingly, “Do you have
something you want to say, Scorp?”
“Yeah, I do.” Scorpius laughed cruelly. “We fell to our knees in front of
hundreds of witnesses and proclaimed ourselves our hounds. “We promised
to serve you and not the sun god, and you have the audacity to say we've
done nothing.”
“Lie.” Arabella laughed louder. “There were sixty people. “Max.”
Scorpius let out a string of expletives, and Dr. Palmer snapped, “Control
your mouth in my office.”
Everyone ignored her.
Scorpius continued with exasperation, “Corvus even crawled for you.”
My gut twisted at the reminder.
She acted like it meant nothing to her.
“What else do you want us to do for you?” I looked down at my Revered.
“Do you want us to watch you suck off the twins and say nothing about it?
Because we've done that—we haven't even brought it up?”
“Excuse me. “Suck who off?” Dr. Palmer asked with confusion.
Scorpius muttered something about John holding his head as he adjusted
his pants.
I rolled my eyes; his new obsession with the human was entertaining.
Poor John.
Arabella jabbed her finger into my chest. “Wow, you couldn't just let it go?
You had to bring it up. Sun god, I knew the three of you couldn't be
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mature.”
“You had his cock down your throat, what do you want us to do?”
Scorpius's face turned red, and he gesticulated wildly. “Congratulate you?”
Arabella bared her teeth at him. “Maybe it would be nice to have a little
support and not be slut shamed for owning my sexuality. “Sun god knows it's
been hard enough for me after what I've been through.”
“Sweetheart,” Orion whispered. “Of course we support your sexuality.”
He reached across me and grabbed her hand. “I thought it was hot.”
She held his hand back and smiled. "Thank you. That means a lot.”
I gaped at my Protector. “You cannot support her sucking off the twins?”
“Technically, I only sucked off Luka,” Arabella pointed out.
Orion agreed. “I support her. Not her actions.” I have shrugged and
whispered, “You have to admit it was—intense.”
I glared, not him too.
What was happening with my mates and the twins? Couldn't they see that
they were stealing our Revered from us?
“No,” I said. “What it was—was horrifying!”
Fire buzzed beneath my skin, and the urge to burn the world intensified
because now I couldn't stop remembering my Revered gazing lovingly up at
another man, who had his dick down his throat.
A piece of the carpet went up in flames.
Everyone ignored it.
“What the hell is going on?” Dr. Palmer shouted. “Someone explain.
“Now.”
Arabella didn't take her eyes off me as she snapped, “I gave Luka a blow job
at a party last week while the three of them watched, and John pulled my hair
during it.” She clapped. “Case closed.”
I glared right back at her.
Dr. Palmer put down his pen. “I'm not paid enough for this.”
“Are they paying you?” Arabella furrowed her brow. “Wait a second—is
the High Court paying us for fighting in the war?”
“Stop talking.” Dr. Palmer clicked his pen. “None of you speak.”
Arabella made a noise of annoyance but slumped back into the couch, and
I pulled her back against my side.
She moved both her hands to hover over my still-flaming palm.
More warmth fluttered in my chest because my Revered might be mad at
me, but she still needed my warmth.
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She needed me.

I'd never been more grateful for my abilities.
“Since the High Court thinks it's crucial that you mate and come into your full
powers for the war effort—and they've tasked me with the impossible job of helping
you—here's what we're going to do.” Dr. Palmer smoothed his hands over her
already slick bun. Then she grabbed a stack of small books off the table next to her
and handed one out to each of us.
“This is an enchanted truth journal. In order to avoid species rights violations,
the High Court gives them to inmates incarcerated at the Olympus realm's maximum-
security prison. It is supposed to help unfeeling sociopaths build relationships.” She
glared at us. “I think they would be beneficial for you four.”

Arabella crossed her arms. “Are you calling us—”

“Yes,” Dr. Palmer said.
Arabella slumped petulantly, and I couldn't stop my chuckle because she
it was so adorable sometimes.
Dr. Palmer forged ahead. “Your answer to the prompt will appear in one another's
journals. That way you can discuss back and forth the implications of your answer
and build a connection.”
Arabella made a sound of disbelief.
“I understand your doubts.” Dr. Palmer stared at me as she spoke. “At the very
least, it should begin a discourse among the four of you, which it seems like you
need. Communication is the key to forging any type of connection.”
“Sounds like a pseudoscience,” Scorpius muttered under his breath loud enough
for everyone to hear.
The doctor turned purple.
I patted the book on my lap. “We'll take them.”
Dr. Palmer narrowed his eyes. “This is not up for debate. All four of you will
answer the prompts whenever you have free time.” Her tone was clipped with
annoyance. “The pen is enchanted to only write down the truth.”
She looked down at the books pointedly.
None of us touched them.
Dr. Palmer frowned. “Also, I'm mandated to inform you that if you try to use the
pen as a weapon, it is enchanted to electrocute you.”
It took a second for her words to process.
Arabella opened her book. “Cool,” she said as she stabbed the pen into my thigh.
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She was electrocuted.

I lunged and grabbed her twitching form, just barely saving her from
falling off the couch. I gaped down at the woman in my arms.
I'd never meet anyone so reckless.
Keeping her safe was near impossible. Sun god, she's a danger to herself.
“She just stabbed Corvus,” Orion whispered with horror, and Scorpius barked
with laughter.
After painfully long minutes where I worried about the physical but mostly
mental health of my Revered, she stopped twitching and grinning.
“That was sick.” Her curls stood up around her head as they cracked with
electricity.
I snatched the pen out of Arabella's hand, and a shock leaped where our
fingers touched. “Don't be a brat,” I ordered.
She smirked, and for a second, her gaze caught on my lips. Her pupils
expanded, and lust sparked between us.
Abruptly she wonced and jolted.
Strange.
Blood trickled down my leg and pride welled in my chest at the force of her
stab. I liked that she wasn't a weak, always fool; it was extremely attractive how
strong she was.
Scorpius couldn't stop laughing, and Orion grinned over at her.
Dr. Palmer's mouth was wide open. The alarm went off, signaling the end of
the session, but she didn't react. She seemed stunned by Arabella's violence.

We RJE'd away before she could come to her senses.

Entering our barracks, I stared down at the book in my hands labeled,
“Journal to Help Facilitate Relations among the Criminally Insane,” and my spirits
soared.
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Chapter 21
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Journal Prompt #1
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TRUTH JOURNAL TO HELP FACILITATE RELATIONS

AMONG THE CRIMINALLY INSANE

What does a toxic relationship look like to you? How does this
relationship make you feel?

ARAN ALIS EGAN

This is fucking stupid, but I can't sleep, so I'm going to write in this to
make it clear how much I hate you.
A toxic “relationship” (this is not a relationship) is whatever I have right
now with you three, in case it was not obvious enough.
You're the worst people I have ever met in my life. You're unfeeling bullies
who hurt others for fun. You need help.
Just thinking about the three of you makes me feel murderous. Other
than that, right now I feel nothing but a mountain of nihilism with a smidgeon
of self-deprecation.
Side note: Sun god, these pens have a serious truth enchantment. Yo
couldn't have put it better if I tried.

Corvus Malum
Thank you, Arabella, for taking this seriously.
I will also share my thoughts so we can repair our relationship (you're
right, this is not a simple, pathetic “relationship,” you are my soulmate, which
means I would die and kill just to make you smile).
A toxic relationship to me means Arabella, Scorpius, and Orion are all
dead. I failed them. I attend their funeral and am so overcome with grief that
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my flames explode around me and I murder hundreds of thousands of people.

Afterward I walk through the carnage feeling nothing, not even remorse,
because my mates are gone, and that is all that matters. I am alone.

Aran Alis Egan

My name is ARAN, not Arabella, you flaming jerk.

Corvus Malum
You are not masquerading as a male anymore. Stop being childish.
Arabella is a gorgeous name. You are also the most gorgeous woman I have
ever seen in my life.
I didn't mean to say that.

Aran Alis Egan:

You're so obsessed with me that it's insane (HAHA, it's the truth). Also,
remember when I stabbed you earlier with the pen?
I want to stab you every time you call me the wrong name. It fills me with
joy (still the truth, take that!).

Corvus Malum
If you hurt yourself again, I will put you over my knee, Arabella. But I'll
let you hurt me any way you need to, as long as you don't hurt yourself.
That is unacceptable.
I can't stop thinking about how gorgeous and murderous you are.
Also, you missed.

Aran Alis Egan

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MISTAKE

This is an automated enchanted message that the owner of this journal's pen
is out of their immediate vicinity. They are not ignoring you, don't panic. The
High Court wants you to remember, you are enough and criminal insanity does
not define you.

Corvus Malum:
Don't throw your pen across the room like a brat or I'll treat you like one.
I fantasize about painting your ass red, and I need to cover you in my cum.

Orion Malum
Oooh, are we playing a game where we only talk through the journals?
This is fun.
Nice goal, baby. Don't worry, I'll bring your pen back over to you.
Also, in a toxic relationship I can't talk to my mate or share anything with them.
They don't acknowledge me when I am trying to communicate with them. They don't
let me watch over them as they sleep. They don't like that I want to own them like a
treasure and consume them.
I feel lonely and abandoned.
That is why my relationship with Corvus and Scorpius is not toxic. They always
listen to me. That is why I'm enraptured with you Arabella, you fit in with the three of
us perfectly.

Aran Alis Egan

Thanks for the pen, Orion. Some people are chivalrous gentlemen unlike other
people (MALUM), who are dramatic and misogynistic.
Also, side note, is that why I've been having weird dreams about a figure watching
over me?
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I thought Malum was the only one who did that?

Corvus Malum
I like to stand watch for everyone's protection. It is my job as Ignis. As my
Revered, you should love it.
I noticed you didn't call me ugly like you so often do when you run that
mouth. Perhaps because it's a lie, my gorgeous girl.

Aran Alis Egan

You're ugly, unkind, unruly, and unwell.

Corvus Malum
You can't write ugly while describing me, can you?

Aran Alis Egan:

Ugsome is a synonym for ugly.

Corvus Malum
Then use it in a sentence, gorgeous. Ugsome also means offensive, which
is how you meant it. I like arguing with you. Intellectually you stimulate me, in
every sense of the word.

Aran Alis Egan

You are utilitarian. UGH FUCK THIS SHIT. I also like arguing with you.
The fact that you aren't stupid is attractive.

Corvus Malum
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I'm hard right now. Everyone, please ignore that.

Aran Alis Egan

You didn't just say that.

Orion Malum
Holy sun god, I can't believe you said that Corvus.
I'm glad your sensitive side is finally coming out for Arabella.
Also, to answer your earlier question, I don't stand watch like my Ignis. I
stalk. It's different. I need to watch you breathe, or I can't breathe myself.
I'm obsessive compulsive about other people, but I've never fixed on anyone
like I have you, sweetheart. You're much more fun to watch than Corvus and
Scorpius. I also like to watch Luka.
Sometimes my fixation can turn violent, and I feel terrible for chasing you
down the hall in Elite Academy. My urges overcame me, and I lost myself in
obsessing over you.
I am truly so sorry.
I never want to be a source of fear for you.
I want to be your home.
Sorry guys, it's the truth. She smells better, and is prettier, and is
captivating, and vicious, and stunning, and is everything I've ever wanted in a
mate. I want to kill her.
So. Badly.

Corvus Malum
My feelings are slightly hurt, Orion, but I understand what you're saying
about obsessing. I can't stop thinking about our Revered. She consumes every
second of my thoughts.
These journals must be broken.

Aran Alis Egan

Machine Translated by Google

Aw, Malum, are your feelings hurt? Poor baby girl.

Thank you, Orion, for saying sorry. It means a lot. I like that you obsess
over me because sometimes I find myself obsessing over you too. Also, I
think it's so adorable that you like Luka. Um, I mean, you're cool.

Orion Malum
Sweetheart, that's everything I've ever wanted to hear. I love that I can
speak aloud to you, and you listen. I love that you aren't scared of my devotion.
I will never stop apologizing for chasing you. Sun god, I'm blushing right now.
I'm not ashamed of what I'm saying.
Please don't tell Luka how I feel.

Corvus Malum
Seeing you two get along gets me so fucking hard. My hand is in my
pants right now. I fantasize about both of you in bed. You're both so pretty.
THESE JOURNALS ARE BROKEN.

Scorpius Malum
I was wondering why my journal kept vibrating. Did you guys know it
was enchanted to include braille?
Of course that deranged therapist wouldn't let me get out of this shit show.

Since I fucking have to, a relationship is toxic if they don't like pain and
they're a fucking pussy and only want pleasure. I would feel nothing but
embarrassment for them because they were a weak, mindless sheep.
Corvus, I am slightly embarrassed to call you my Ignis right now. Control
yourself, you're coming across as a pervert. I love the idea of hurting, or being
hurt, by all three of you during sex. It makes my toes curl.
Also, I wouldn't mind stabbing John.

Aran Alis Egan

Machine Translated by Google

Wait, are all of you named Malum? I'm confused. I thought Mitch was the
only one named Malum.
Also, I'm laughing so hard right now I can't breathe. John is going to hate
that.

Orion Malum
Scorpius and I are members of the noble House of Malum through
matehood. Mitch is the only heir of the noble House of Malum. Any other
questions, sweetheart? I love talking to you and would rather stay up all night
writing in these journals than going to sleep if it means I get to communicate
with you.
My love language is obsession.
What is yours, sweetheart?

Corvus Malum
My love language is touch. Thanks for asking, Orion. It's part of the
reason my abilities drive me insane. I also love words of affirmation.
I'm moving to a different realm.

Scorpius Malum
Mitch. I'm cackling. I'll cuddle you more, you little flaming softie. You just
had to ask. Also, my love language is pain. Obviously.

Aran Alis Egan

My love language is quality time.
That is why I love the twins so much. They are always there to support me
in big and small ways. It is healthy and fills me with comfort when everything
else inside me feels very dark.
Also, we know you're cackling, Scorpius. Everyone can hear you, and
Vegar just told you to shut up. Listen to him or we're all going to have
nightmares.
Machine Translated by Google

I'm going to stick with Mitch from now on, for accuracy.

Orion Malum
It hurts me to hear you say that about the twins. It makes me realize how
much we've failed you. Whatever you need, baby, we will give it to you going
forward. We support you. Just to be clear, we will never hurt you for fun, never
ever again.
Pinky promise.
Also, I'll scalp Vegar if he gives you more nightmares, sweetheart. No
one hurts my woman and lives. Lo prometo. Don't worry about anything.
We'll protect you.

Scorpius Malum
I can't agree to not hurt her for fun. Pain can be very pleasurable if
done right. I want to tie you up and stick a…no, I'm not saying that.
Also, Arabella tell Vegar that if he tells me to shut up one more time, he's
getting stabbed.

Aran Alis Egan

Tell him yourself, coward. Or just make Mitch do it, since he's the scariest
with his fire and is supposed to be a leader. Sometimes I find myself attracted
to how ferocious he is.
These books are broken.

Corvus Malum
Scorpius, how did you stop yourself from writing?
I'm fisting my dick and squeezing thinking about all three of you beneath
I.
Please don't read that.
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Aran Alis Egan

You're so obsessed with us. It turns me on, the thought of you being
turned on.

Orion Malum
I'm also turned on right now, but I'm glad I have more self-control than
Mitch. I am also slightly embarrassed for him right now.
Mitch, tell Vegar to stop telling Scorpius to stop laughing. Our Revered is
scared of him giving us all nightmares, and it infuriates me. Do something
before I kill him.

Aran Alis Egan

Oh my sun god, Mitch, I can't believe you actually said something!
Vegar's just brandished an ink dagger, and I think he's going to throw it
at Mitch for talking back.

Scorpius Malum
Their swords aren't made of ink. They're made of nightmares.
Orion, leave the killing to me if it comes to that. I want someone writing in
pain beneath me, although no amount of pain has truly satisfied me lately
because I want Arabella beneath me.
Unlike Mitch, I am not ashamed of the truth.

Aran Alis Egan

Damn. Vegar threw the dagger. No one is hurting anyone on my behalf. It
stresses me out. Please don't.

Orion Malum
Mitch, are you okay? That's the second time you've been stabbed today.
Also, of course, sweetheart, I will kill them secretly so you don't worry.
Machine Translated by Google

Anything so my girl doesn't stress.

Scorpius Malum:
Fuck, I'm jealous. What's your secret, Mitch? Arabella, will you stab me?

Aran Alis Egan:

No. No one is killing anyone on my behalf, with my knowledge OR in
secret
I might stab you. It sounds fun.

Scorpius Malum
You're perfect.

Corvus Malum
Too late. I hate when you call me Mitch.

Aran Alis Egan

What does too late mean? Were you referring to hurting people in
secret??????? Also, don't be sad, baby girl. (hahaha)

Orion Malum
Poor Mitchy needs a kissy. I do love you so much, Mitch, and I hope this name
doesn't hurt your feelings too bad.

Scorpius Malum
His love language is touch. I'm going to crawl down and cover him in kisses.
Machine Translated by Google

Corvus Malum
Please come touch me, Scorpius. I am so hard just thinking about it. Sun
God, please make it stop.

Aran Alis Egan

AWWWWWWWWW. Apart from me loves that you are being vulnerable.
I like this side to you. LIES.

Orion Malum
It's okay, Mitch, I'd come sleep on top of you tonight, but I need to watch
Arabella, so I can't. Try to take some deep breaths.

Scorpius Malum
Do you need me to hurt you, Mitchy? I'll give you love bites.

Corvus Malum
You have five seconds to get down here or I'm crawling up the bunks.

Orion Malum
Listening to you two make out right now is driving me insane.

Aran Alis Egan

Same.
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Chapter 22
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Aran
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MORE FAILURE

ALIFEROUS (ADJECTIVE): having wings.

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DAY 12, HOUR 11

“Bend your knees and pinch your shoulder blades together.” Knox pulled his
shoulders back and shook his wings to demonstrate. “Your power comes from
your wings. First, you must learn to fly. Once you've mastered your wings, then
you'll be able to use the energy of your feathers to create an ice sword. However
—flying is the crucial first step.”
His crystalline feathers were so pale they were almost silver and were
streaked in black. They clattered loudly in the quiet forest.
Knox bent his knees, flared his wings wide, then flapped downward with a
whoosh as he said, “Without flying, we are nothing.”
He hovered a few feet off the forest floor.
Snow whirled around his levitating body and the frosted forest floor.
Gray branches clattered together on a chilly breeze that carried the scent of
pine.
The wintry forest was eerie with no animal life.
It was steeped in shadows.
Tones of blue-gray distorted my vision even worse than usual, and a
preternatural chill froze my bones from the inside out.
I shivered uncontrollably as Knox hovered gracefully among the trees.
His shoulder-length brown hair defied gravity; it floated around the
crown of his head like a halo as the rapid beat of his wings created wind.
His face was ethereal.
Contorted in pure bliss.
One black and one yellow eye were opened wide and staring up at the sky
as if he'd found his life's purpose and there was nowhere else he'd rather be,
nothing he'd rather do.
He was built to fly.
I'd never known such rapture.
The angel captain folded his wings against his back and dropped to his
feet. He smirked at me.
Sadie clapped loudly in the silence, and I glared over at the traitor.
Rina put her pointer finger to her red lips in an exaggerated shushing motion.

Sadie made an obscene gesture back, and Cobra smirked down at her. Jax
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rubbed at his face like he was exhausted, while Ascher and Xerxes stood
behind Sadie, making similar gestures in solidarity.
No one would ever say they didn't support their mate.
The twins sat on the ground in front of the shifters, watching me silently.
I made eye contact with John, and he gave me a thumbs-up.
Scorpius was the only king present, and he'd announced that Orion and
Malum had to do “secret High Court business.”
He'd sounded angry that he hadn't been included with his mates and had
been left behind to babysit me.
Part of me was upset that two of the kings had disappeared again.
The blue-tinted forest darkened to gray.
All pigment disappeared.
The cold intensified.
The kings were keeping secrets and lying.
“Now you try.” Knox pointed at me as he demonstrated the motion with his
shoulders.
I took a deep breath even though I knew it was pointless. I'd already tried
and failed plenty of times.
Standing up straight, I tried to ignore the crushing weight that pulled my
spine toward the ground as sweat streaked down the sides of my face and
dripped off my chin.
Wild curls were itchy where they stuck to my neck and forehead.
Discomfort radiated down my spine.
Bent knees shaking, I flared my wings wide, flexed my arms, and pushed
my shoulder muscles downward with every ounce of strength I possessed.
My muscles strained, and I grunted through gritted teeth. Groaning, I tried
to replicate Knox's smooth flapping.
Unfamiliar appendages ached with pain.
My wings flapped like they were in molasses.
Time morphed and expanded until each second lasted an eternity.
I didn't fly.
Again.
Mother would have loved this moment, too bad I ate her heart.
Back buckling under the weight of my wings, I gave up and rested my
hands on my knees, gasping loudly while cold air whistled through my teeth
and burned my gums. I tasted copper in my mouth even though there was no
blood.
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My teeth ached from inhaling harshly.

Freezing temperatures were a miserable bitch.
“Good job. You're doing it.” Sadie clapped loudly, and I shot her a glare
because I clearly was not doing it.
She stopped clapping when she saw my facial expression. “I swear I saw
you hover a few inches.” Her face was earnest and shone with pride.
“Did I really?” I asked doubtfully.
She crossed her arms over her chest and made the symbol of the sun god
with her fingers. “I swear on Cobra's life that I saw you rise off the ground.”
“Excuse me?” Cobra hissed.
Across the clearing, Vegar mouthed, “No, you didn't fly. “You suck,”
while Zenith gave me a thumbs-up.
I exhaled exhaustion.
“I promise you flew!” Sadie said aggressively and glared at the other
people in the forest, daring them to contradict her.
“I hope so,” I mumbled as I concentrated on not passing out as I
asphyxiated on air. Fatigue and zero progress after hours of effort were killing
me.
It was like running in place.
Banging my fractured skull against a brick wall.
Being trapped at Elite Academy.
Fighting in a battle against monsters.
Killing when I wanted to rest.
“She's lying to try to make you feel better,” Jinx's voice ranges inside my
mind. “Nothing happened.”
Her voice cleared the haze.
It sounded like she was speaking directly into my ear. Each word was
crystal clear and nothing like the fuzzy connection that had been cut out in the
middle of battle.
I stopped spiraling and glared over at her, nearly falling over from my
sudden movement. The unfamiliar weight distribution pulled me lower into a
hunch.
I gasped out clouds of water vapor.
Hyperventilated.
Jinx leaned against a tree next to Scorpius, who clenched her elbow in a
tight grip and made sure she didn't fall over. Since Warren was currently in
ferret form, wrapped around his neck, it seemed the king had taken his place.
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She had a black cast on her wrist. She said she broke it tripping while trying to
maneuver into bed.
Annoyance flared in my gut. What was taking the prosthetic so long? The High
Court couldn't be this incompetent.
Black sunglasses hid Jinx's face as she watched me with a bored expression.
Standing next to the tall devil, she almost came up to his shoulders. She no longer
looked like a small child.
Had she always had curves?
She was definitely getting taller.
“How old are you again?” I asked in my head, forgetting to be annoyed
that I hadn't made any progress with flying. “You don't look fourteen.”
Jinx's voice echoed crisply through my skull. “I'm older than you.”
I scoffed aloud. “Good one.”
"Que?" Knox's mismatched eyes focused on me. “Who are you talking to?”

“A crazy bitch,” I mumbled as I turned back to the angel.

In my peripheral vision, Jinx and Scorpius shared a smirk. When they had them
become friends? I sensed danger.
“Try again,” Knox said encouragingly as he showed me how to push my
shoulders back. Now that I had earned my wings, the angel captain was nothing
but pleasant and positive.
In fact, I have made it a point to be nice to everyone in the camp.
His attitude differed vastly from how he'd acted during the Legionnaire
Games, and contrasted with the haughty arrogance of the rest of the angels.
They use the term grounders frequently.
They sneered when we gave them instructions.
Case in point, Rina huffed loudly at Knox's proclamation, and she flopped back
against a tree with annoyance. The men and women angels around her did the
same.
They grumbled and shuffled with boredom.
Glared at me with disgust.
I hated to say it, but I got where they were coming from. It seemed like the
gods had made a mistake naming the shifter and academy legions as champions.

We were chaotic, unorganized, and prone to falling apart. Not the best
candidates for leading a war.
I wouldn't want to listen to me either.
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But the angels could fly.

They were majestic and elegant, full of confidence, and seemingly
unfazed by the ungodly's violence.
Meanwhile, I still hadn't stopped spiraling.
Arthur made a comment under his breath, and a female angel laughed
beside him.
I ignored them and focused on Knox's encouraging smile. Whatever his
reason was for suddenly acting nice, it didn't matter to me. If he wanted to
pretend to respect us, then I'd take it.
I pushed my hands off my knees and staggered into a standing position.
Thighs trembling, pain screaming across my shoulder blades, I raised the
wings high at my sides.
Blue-white crystals clattered.
Flexing with everything I had, I gritted my teeth.
Closed my eyes.
Focused on moving the new heavy appendages quickly and intended it
wasn't like trying to sprint straight up a cliff.
Sweat poured down my face.
I yelled through gritted teeth and strained with everything I had, hands
fisted as pressure pounded in my skull from the force of my concentration.
My combat boots sank deeper into the snow as my wings pulled me
downward instead of upward.
Cartilage and feathers chained me to the dirt.
Tied me down.
The temperature dropped, and when I opened my bulging eyes, the shades
of gray had become shades of black. Emptiness expanded into a chasm within
my chest.
“You are nothing but a failure.” Mother straddled my writing form.
Blue flames tortured me as I screamed in pain.
I'd failed as a fae, and now I failed as an angel.
Pressure intensified behind my eyes, and liquid dripped down my cheeks,
thicker than tears.
“That's enough. She's had enough training for today. Everyone, leave.”
Luka's voice cracked like a whip through the forest, and his tone brimmed with
violence.
For the first time, Rina had nothing to say.
“Pull your wings in, Aran,” John said in my ear.
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I hadn't seen him approach.

He grabbed my arms and used his strength to tug me up while he wiped
his fingers across my cheekbones. They came back stained with blood.
At least, that was what I assumed the black substance was. My vision wasn't
picking up most of the color spectrum.
Shadows coalesced around me.
I choked, unable to draw the frigid air into my lungs.
“Pull your wings in.” Now,” John ordered in an uncharacteristically angry
tone.
I complied.
The crushing weight became manageable, and suddenly the chains
pulling me to the ground disappeared.
I felt bizarrely light, like I could float away as a shaky trembling permeated
through my muscles.
“Whoa, steady.” John wrapped his arms around me.
He grinned down at me with his dimples on full display. His dark eyes twinkled
as he took in my questioning expressions and pulled me flush against him.

Pinpricks of pain raced down my spine.

I loved his smile.
"Forks." John grinned. “I pretended to get mad to make you obey. reverse
psychology. “I'm a genius.”
“You're an idiot,” I huffed as I leaned into his embrace, relieved in ways
I couldn't put into words.
There were two constants in the realms: John was good-natured, and I was
depressed.
It was who we were.
Intrinsically.
Two halves of a whole.
His arms wrapped around me squeezed punishingly, and I relaxed for the first
time in hours.
He mumbled into my hair, “Let's get you inside and warm.”
“I think we can still work—”
Knox was cut off by Scorpius shoving him in the chest and sneering
menacingly, “She needs to rest.”
Knox's black and yellow eyes flashed with violence.
They squared up to each other, equally matched in height and muscle,
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warriors bristling with barely constrained energy.

The forest appeared darker.
Sinister.
Abruptly, Knox's features smoothed out, and he held his hands up in the
universal gesture of surrender. “Of course, I meant no offense. My mistake. “I
didn't realize we had been going at it for hours.” He stepped around Scorpius
and looked at me. “Don't get discouraged. Most people earn their wings when
they're younger and have spent their entire lives preparing to fly. “We'll figure it
out.”
He smiled.
Too late, I was way past discouragement. We were entering manic
breakdown territory.
Everything is going to work out great. Just have positive thoughts and keep
trying. Blah. Blah. Blah.
I'd show him how positively deranged I could be.
John stepped forward and blocked me as I flipped off Knox with both my
hands. The angel missed the gesture.
I punched him in the gut. “Move out of my way.”
He punched me back, with far less force, then the forest blurred as he
swung me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
I was too tired to stop him.
“To the bunk beds.” He pointed an imaginary sword dramatically and ran
down the path.
“You're so fucking stupid,” I said between laughs. “I hope the ungodly
“kill us all for being loud.”
The world tipped again, and I shrieked.
Head swinging upside down, it took me a moment to process that John
held my ankles in his hands with his biceps extended above his head.
He held me upside down behind his back so I was perpendicular to the
ground.
Since we were almost the same height, my head was close to the ground
and enveloped in warm steam.
I shrieked and tried to kick free. “Put me down right now, you idiot.”
“Nope.” John ran forward awkwardly as I pushed against his calves.
“I'm going to trip you,” I threatened.
He flexed and straightened his hands so I was hanging higher off the ground.
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In this ridiculous position, he ran past the rest of the group, who were walking
on the path like normal individuals.
Sadie slapped my ass as we passed.
John almost tripped at the loud crack and then said in his most serious
tone, “Touch my wife's ass again and I'll remove your hand.”
“What did you just say to her?” Cobra hissed.
Before we could die via snake, Luka appeared out of nowhere and blocked us
protectively. There was a loud shhhhhk that signaled Xerxes had pulled out his
knives, and suddenly Orion was standing beside Luka creating a wall.

“Later, suckers!” John shouted as he continued running down the path.

Sadie yelled after us, “I fucked her first!”
John stumbled but caught himself and resumed running awkwardly with
me hanging behind him.
“Be fucking quiet and stop breaking protocol,” Rina snarled angrily, and Sadie
replied, “That wasn't very quiet of you.”
They were getting far behind us, and I barely made out Rina saying some
choice swear words that were mixed with the words grounder and idiot.
Abruptly, we burst into our barracks, and John dumped me.
I was lying in an undignified heap on the floor of our room. Out of breath from
laughing and general exhaustion, I could do nothing but lay immobile and gasp.

John grinned down at me proudly. “That was fun.”

I kicked him in the back of the knee, and he crashed down beside me.
“You're so stupid,” I said. “I don't know why I put up with you.”
Before I could catch my bearings, he was straddling me as he smothered me
with a pillow that he'd somehow procured.
“Be silent, witch,” he said dramatically as he pressed harder and actually
asphyxiated me.
I kneed him in the balls and threw him off.
He moaned as he rolled over, cupping his junk like a wuss.
I ripped the pillow away from him and slammed it down into his face as hard
as I could. There was a crunch because I'd accidentally made the fabric icy.

I grinned with satisfaction.

“She's killing me. Someone help!” I have wailed dramatically.
I hit him harder.
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The crunch was louder.

“What the current fuck is wrong with you people?” Vegar snarled from where
he was lying on Zenith's bunk, and from the way the covers moved, he was also
lying on top of Zenith.
At this point, all the demons did was nap and yell at us.
Frankly, I respected their lifestyle.
“So much.” I staggered to my feet and held my hand out to help John up, but
instead of taking my offering, he kicked out at my shins, and I slammed down on
top of him with an oof.
The wind was knocked out of my lungs.
While I was momentarily distracted, two hands wrapped around my throat.

Darkness twinkled around John as he won down at me. “I win. take

that. Now who's the idiot?”
I flipped him off as he crushed my trachea with his fingers.
He waggled his eyebrows like he wasn't strangling me to death. Yo
I slammed my hips upward with all my strength, and pushed him off.
A flash of black streaked across the air.
John's eyes widened, and suddenly he was moving much quicker. In a split
second, he rolled on top of me protectively and tugged us across the floor.

Clang.
A black dagger, made of nightmares, lay on the ground right where we'd been
fighting.
“Did you just try to stab them?” Luka asked with anger, chest heaving as
he stood silhouetted in the doorway, snow and ice wafting around him.
Scorpius stood behind him, plush upper lip contorted into a scowl. “Did
you say 'stab'?” he asked menacingly.
The violence ratcheted up.
“To be fair”—John offered to help me up—“we deserved it.”
I ignored his hand and stood up, then shoved at his chest. “Maybe lay off
choking so aggressively? What is wrong with you?”
John shoved me back with so much strength that I flew across the room
and slammed onto my bunk bed.
He stalked after me and leaned forward. His voice dropped an octave, and
I have grinned. “But I liked that my fingerprints are on your neck.”
I have winked.
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“What the fuck? Be gentle with her.” Luka grabbed his twin and pulled him
back from me.
I gaped at John as he was dragged across the room by his twin, and I tried
to process his words.
He shimmied his hips and winked in his brother's arms, dimples on full
display as he licked his lips.
His dark eyes twinkled with myrth.
Outrage turned to gratitude in my chest as I realized what had just happened.

Once again, John had acted so ridiculously that he'd successfully

distracted me when I was spiraling.
Scorpius pushed past John, bumping against him with his entire body as
he passed, then he glowed down at me. “I wanted to ask you something.”
He clenched his teeth, and a muscle ticked on the sharp edge of his jawline.
“Can we talk?”
His cut cheekbones were stark against his hollowed cheeks.
There were dark-purple smudges underneath his eyes.
The man before me looked exhausted, and my gut told me his change in
demeanor had nothing to do with war against the ungodly. Scorpius was a self-
proclaimed sadomasochist and wasn't someone to balk at something as trivial
as murder.
No.
It wasn't the war; it was something else.
His jaw clenched tighter, and he tapped his foot with impatience as he
waited for me to respond.
I sat silently and stared up at him blankly as I purposefully said nothing just
to piss him off.
He clenched his jaw tighter.
Pride filled me because it was nice to set goals and achieve them,
especially when those goals were tormenting men.
I rubbed my eyes, trying to process the fact that John had purposely left red
marks on my throat while we played wrestled, and now Scorpius was asking
for permission to speak.
Men were strange creatures.
“Shot.” I leaned back on my covers with my arm behind my head, legs
spread wide like the fuck boy I used to pretend to be. Casual and unbothered,
with the confidence of someone who'd achieved greatness while doing
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nothing.
It was empowering being delusional.
“I'm manspreading, just so you know,” I said, just so he could get the full
picture.
Scorpius's dark eyebrows contrasted with his pale complexion as they lifted.
"OK?" he asked with confusion, then shook his head and said forcefully, “I know
you're exhausted after training, so”—he gritted his teeth together—“please let
me wash you in the shower.”
He said “please” like it was a filthy word.
“Why?” I asked, genuinely confused.
He pulled at the neck of his sweatshirt like he was dying from discomfort.
“I'm your Protector,” he said with a sneer that insinuated I was stupid for
asking.
“False—you're just a rude asshole.”
White teeth flashed as he bared them at me, then his expression smoothed
over like he was forcing himself to appear unthreatening.
He failed.
“I want to show you that I meant what I said about serving you. I want to be
your hound. I want to—” He swallowed thickly. “—have a relationship with you.”

“And I want to fly,” I said dryly. “Get to the point.”

His sneer returned, and he snapped, “You're literally a fucking angel.”
“But”—I popped the B obnoxiously—“I can't fly.”
Scorpius exhaled loudly, and it sounded like he was screaming through his
nose. I slumped back on my bed and rolled my eyes.
Instead of walking away like I expected, Scorpius smiled, and it transformed
the harsh edges of his face into a breathtaking work of art. “I would like to have
some quality time between the two of us. Is that okay with you?”

For a second, I was speechless.

I'd never seen the cruel king smile before, and holy sun god, his face was a
weapon of mass destruction.
Pain streaked across my back, and my breath hitched.
He frowned and narrowed his eyes.
I whispered, “No.”
He scowled darkly and clenched his hands into fists, and the dark circles
under his eyes seemed to expand.
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“No,” I explained with another heavy sigh. “You don't get to spend quality
time with me, because I still hate you.”
His scowl deepened, and he opened his mouth.
“However,” I cut him off, “you can spend quality time with me because it
will probably piss off Malum.”
He would be so angry if I let Scorpius shower with me when he wasn't
around. I could practically feel the heat from his meltdown.
The blind devil kept looming over me, but he unclenched his hands and
quirked an eyebrow.
I opened my mouth to say something derogatory about his mates—because
I never missed an opportunity to talk shit about my enemies—but he grabbed
my wrist and I forgot what I was going to say.
Without saying another word, he tugged me out of bed toward the small
bathroom and pulled us both inside before I could change my mind.
“Don't do anything I wouldn't do!” John yelled cheekily, and we both
ignored him. “Let us know if you want help. “We're happy to join.”
Scorpius mumbled under his breath, “We'll get to that later.”
I stumbled. He really was becoming obsessed with John.
“Speak for yourself,” Luka mumbled as the door closed with a loud click.
Suddenly, I was trapped.
With the king who liked pain.
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Chapter 23
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Scorpio
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SHOWERS

CORDOLIUM (NOUN): heartfelt grief.

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DAY 11, HOUR 12

“While we're in the shower, I'm in charge,” Arabella said.

She was adorable.
And delusional.
I quirked my eyebrows and crossed my arms over my chest as I mockingly
waited for her directives. Then I remembered I was trying to appear
nonthreatening, and I softened my features, relaxed my posture.
Earlier her breathing had changed like she was in pain, and my stomach had
plummeted because just being in my presence had hurt her. I didn't want that.

I inhaled deeply. Her icy scent filled the small bathroom.

She was pure adrenaline to the veins.
Muscles flexing, senses heightened, I forced myself to keep my arms at
my side. Fingers relaxed.
Listening to her wrestle with John had triggered something inside me.
They were both so noisy.
So playful.
I wanted them both.
I'd start with Arabella.
Cold wafted off her, and goose bumps prickled my skin from her proximity.

The bathroom was pathetically small, and just standing in front of the
shower meant we were chest to chest, mere inches between us.
She breathed unsteadily, and her breath puffed against the exposed skin on
my neck.
I held back a moan.
"SW. Now that we're in here, we're going to…” Arabella trailed off like she
wasn't exactly sure what she wanted to command of me.
I swallowed down a mocking laugh because I knew exactly what she needed.

She needed to be cared for.

Looked after.
Pampered.
“Um,” she said awkwardly as she struggled to come up with an idea.
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It took every ounce of control I possessed to appear receptive to

directions.
It was the least I could do.
Ever since I'd learned that Arabella had been tortured as a child, a sick sense of
guilt twisted my stomach. I woke up nauseous and went to bed feeling weak. It
permeated every second of my day.
Just like myself, my Revered had suffered at the hands of others when she
she was too young to defend herself.
Yet I'd called her pampered. Weak. I'd tormented her and added to her distress.

I'd been a fool.

My chest ached with regret.
If Arabella was ever going to accept me as her Protector, I needed to build a
relationship with her, which would only happen if I came across as nonthreatening.

I forced my shoulders to relax and tried to look approachable.

My lips curled up in a welcoming smile.
Corvus always grouched about how stupid John was with his “fucking dimples and
constant smiles.” Most likely because Orion said Arabella liked to comment on how
much she liked John's jokes and smile.
Fucking John.
There was something intriguing about a grown man making jokes and
acting so idiotic all the time. He was just so nice.
But if he was the type of man my Revered preferred, then that was exactly who I
would be for her. Just because I wasn't nice didn't mean I couldn't pretend I was.

My plan was simple.

Effective.
Failure was not an option.
“What's wrong with you?” Arabella asked me with concern. “Do you
need to use the bathroom? Should I leave? Why are you standing like that?”
She moved toward the door.
Frustration welled. I stepped in front of her and blocked her exit. “I'm fine, say your
demands,” I snarled, annoyed that she was misinterpreting my relaxed meaning.

Could she not tell I was pretending to be a nice guy? What was wrong with her?
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She scoffed. “No need to get all huffy.”

I opened my mouth to retort, but my teeth clicked as I shut my lips, and I
breathed deeply.
I would wait patiently like a normal, nice man would.
For her, I would pretend.
“Why are you making that face?” she asked incredulously, then whispered,
“Are you having stomach pain? Sometimes I also get it after a battle. Don't worry,
I think it's normal.”
I gaped down at her with disbelief.
She continued rambling, “It's probably just an ulcer from worrying. “I read
somewhere that loads of people get them, especially during violent times in
history with lots of upheaval.”
A headache throbbed against my temple as I struggled to come up with a
response to her inane statements.
What would a nice guy say in this situation?
“Do you need me to get you medicine for your stomach?” I asked slowly
as I pulled my lips up into an approachable smile.
“No need to snarl at me.” She made a disgruntled noise. “I was just saying.”

I wanted to scream with frustration because I wasn't snarling, I was fucking

smiling.
Why can't she tell the difference?
Stepping forward, I used my larger size to surround her.
Frost burned my tongue, and my heart thudded erratically in my sternum.
My skin tingled with the urge to wrap my fingers around her cold flesh and dig
my nails into her skin.
I needed to mark her as mine.
I wanted to hurt her until she cried with pleasure.
I wanted to show her how much I cared.
I wanted her. Period.
Lately, everything had been dull and unexciting. The ungodly were
predictable, and the infected were pathetic.
Everything was dissatisfying.
Boring.
Everything except for the woman who was standing before me, trapped in
three cubic feet of space by her own voluntary will.
I used my larger size to press her against the wall.
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“Back off!” she yelled abruptly, and the side of her hand slammed into my
trachea.
I stumbled back, unprepared for her outburst of violence.
Goose bumps exploded down my back, and I shivered from the ecstasy of
her touch.
My throat throbbed with pain, and it felt delicious.
I licked my lips.
The skin on my neck burned where her icy fingers had touched. I pressed
my hands against it and marveled at the difference in temperature where she'd
made contact.
Adjusting myself in my sweatpants, I took a deep breath as I tried to
figure out how to proceed.
Should I pin her against the wall and ravish her? Beg her to punch me in
the throat again? Dig my nails into her throat as punishment until her blood
coated both of us?
So many fucking options.
I was paralyzed by indecision, so turned on that I couldn't think rationally.

She sighed and repeated, “This is what we're going to do.” There was a
creak as she turned the shower nozzle, then the sound of rushing water.
“We're going to get into the fucking shower.”
I gulped.
Pressing my fingers harder against my neck, I tried not to jerk my hips as I
remembered the blissful pain that had rocked through me when she'd punched
me.
Then I remembered I was pretending to be someone I wasn't.
I was pretending to be a nice guy.
It wasn't an exact science, but I was pretty sure John didn't get turned on
from throat punches and fantasize about digging his nails into Arabella's skin
and making her bleed.
I forced my hands away from my neck and said slowly, “I'll wash and
pamper you in the shower. “I'll take care of you.”
It wasn't a complete lie, since I did want to care for my Revered.
The problem was my standard of care was probably very different from
what a normal man would imagine. It involved daggers, wax, screams of
pleasure, and moans of pain.
I reached down for the edge of my sweatshirt and began to tug it off.
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"No." Arabella pulled the fabric back down and stopped me. “Don't take
your clothes off.”
Bemusedly, I waited for her instructions.
A long moment passed awkwardly between us, like she was waiting for me
to fight her and didn't know what to do with the fact that I'd obeyed her
command.
I smiled softly and waited.
She exhaled heavily like I was being difficult. “We're going to both get
into the shower, and we're going to talk to each other. “Fully clothed.”
“Why would we do that?”
“Because I like to think in the shower, and this way we can clear the air
between us,” she said sassily. “I don't believe we've ever just sat and talked to
each other.”
“We can do that unclothed,” I pointed out.
Her teeth ground together, and her breath hitched unevenly as she said,
“Either get in and shut up, or be a pervert like Malum and leave. “It's your call.”

I arched my brow at the venom in her voice.

Women made no sense, and I'd never understand them. Their logic was
unsettling. Unfortunately, a nice guy wouldn't point that out.
Shrugging, I pulled back the shower curtain and stepped in.
The scalding water immediately soaked through my clothes, and the
warm fabric hung heavy off my frame. It was unpleasant but easily ignored.
I sat down, folding my long limbs awkwardly in the narrow tub, and waited
for further instructions.
“What are you doing?” Arabella asked with confusion.
I scrunched my knees up and parted my legs as wide as possible to make
room for her in the cramped space. “I'm doing what you said.”
“Exactly!” She sounded genuinely disturbed. “Why are you listening to me?”

I rolled my eyes at the insinuation that I would never obey her.

She was absolutely correct.
Still, it was rude to point it out so obnoxiously. She was making it fucking
hard to be the nice guy that she apparently preferred.
“Are you going to get in or not?” I asked slowly as I tried not to bite her
head off.
Nonchalance was extremely difficult to portray because my throat still
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burned where she'd punched me and I was painfully erect.

But I did it.
For her.
Anything for Arabella.
There was a long moment of silence, then an exhale and the flutter of the
shower curtain as she climbed into the tub and joined me.
My sweatpants became uncomfortably tight.
Water sprayed down and splattered across the both of us, mixing our
scents as her legs brushed against mine as she positioned herself.
I swallowed down a moan.
It didn't matter that we were both clothed; the knowledge that her skin
was so close to mine was enough to make me groan with awareness.
Breathing heavily through my nose, I tried to maintain a calm facade.
Unfortunately, that meant I inhaled more of her intoxicating scent.
Blood rushed south.
My head spun with dizziness.
This was torment. Why in the realms would I agree to sit in a fucking tiny
space with my fated soulmate? A space where people usually got naked.
I was an idiot.
Soapy skin and moans of pleasure filled my imagination. I tipped my head
back, squeezed my eyes shut, and prayed to the sun god for self-control.
Also, why had I thought it was a good idea to approach her when my mates
were gone?
I should have forced Orion to stay and helped Corvus—sun god knew it had
been fucking rewarding last time I'd gone—but Orion hadn't wanted to miss out
on the fun and I'd agreed to be the one to stay back .
My control was waning.
"SW." She thudded her head against the shower wall. “What should we
discuss?”
I barely stopped myself from snapping at her not to hurt herself.
Only I got to do that, not her.
She didn't know how to make the pain enjoyable. She needed a teacher;
she needed me.
I shrugged as I tried to think of what a nice guy would want to talk about.
After a long pause, I finally settled on, “How are you feeling?”
Arabella burst out in laughter.
Annoyingly long minutes passed where she cackled to herself like a
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maniac Finally, she gasped and said, “I've been better. How about you?”
She laughed harder, clearly mocking my attempts at pleasantries.
She was begging to be punished.
I harumphed and said, “I was trying to be nice. You don't need to be
fucking rude about it.” I grimaced as I realized what I was doing.
Forcing my muscles to relax, I tried to look apologetic and nonthreatening.

“What is wrong with your face?” she asked. “Your expression is weird.”
I clenched my jaw as water poured over me, overstimulating my arousal-
heightened nerves.
That was it.
I was done with the games.
“Really, can't you fucking see I'm trying to be a nice guy for you?” I snapped
as I glared at her. “Since that's all you seem to want in a man, I'd think you'd be
a little more appreciative of my efforts—sun god, could you be any more
difficult?”
Arabella scoffed, then replied with venom, “I never told you to be a nice guy.
News flash, I already know you're not nice, so don't pretend to be something
you're not. It's pathetic and frankly, creepy.”
I ground my teeth together. “You're the pathetic one who has us sitting here
fully clothed in the shower like idiots.”
“Well, you're the pathetic one who listened to me.”
“Well, you're the pathetic one for making me so obsessed with you.”
“That doesn't even make sense.”
“Why are you so difficult?” I shook my head in exasperation. “Why do you
have to make everything so fucking hard? Can't you just be all weak and
stubborn or whatever a woman is supposed to be like?”
“You sexist piece of shit,” she said through gritted teeth. “Why can't you be
all gallant and chivalrous like a man is supposed to be?”
“Gallantry is for foolish men.” I laughed cruelly at the idea of simpering
about.
She laughed back louder. “And weakness is for foolish women.”
I opened my mouth to argue but snapped it closed because she had a
point. Neither of us fit into any gender stereotypes.
“So where does that leave us?” I asked slowly as I trailed my fingers across
the cracked edge of the tub and counted the seconds between her breaths.
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She didn't breathe for five seconds, then her breath expelled in a whoosh.
“It leaves me sitting in the tub with an ass.” She mumbled under her breath,
“And you wonder why I don't want to be your mate.”
I scowled.
Fisted my hands and tried not to growl with frustration.
Within five minutes of trying to be nice, I'd ruined everything between
us.
Again.
“I just want to be your Protector,” I said dejectedly.
Her breathing hitched, and I fixed on the soft whooshing noise amid the
thundering water.
She sounded upset. Was I making her sad? Was she frowning? Sun god, I
wished Orion were here to whisper her every facial expression.
I felt lost.
Pathetic.
Unable to be anything but the broken blind man who couldn't control his
vitriol. The man who liked pain when everyone yearned for pleasure. Even my
Revered didn't understand me.
It was my turn to gasp.
Unable to breathe.
Icy fingers grabbed my hand and squeezed. I fixated on the sensation.
Every molecule was highly tuned to where we were touching.
“You don't need to panic,” Arabella said softly. “I know you aren't a nice
guy. “I don't need you to pretend to be someone you're not.”
I exhaled shakily.
“There's no pressure.” She squeezed my hand encouragingly. “We're just
sitting here talking, even if it means we argue, although I'm tired of arguing.
Why don't you tell me about yourself.”
The tingling sensation in my hand intensified, and my arm went numb.
Shock held me still as I tried to process that she was voluntarily touching
me and acting like I hadn't ruined everything.
I inhaled the steam, warm water, and my Revered's icy scent.
“It's difficult,” I blurted out before I'd gathered my thoughts. “Being the weak,
blind guy who's mad at the world.”
Pressure burned behind my eyes, and I cursed myself for speaking so
rashly. What the fuck was I doing? She deserved a strong Protector, not a
pathetic, broken man who doubted himself.
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I opened my mouth to take it back, but her nails dug into my skin.
“Don't try to take it back,” she said forcefully.
My jaw snapped closed.
She squeezed me, “I want to know the real you, not whatever stupid
Protector you need to be.” She scoffed. “What's the point of all the bullshit we've
been through and survived if we don't even know each other?”
The warm water sprayed between us, and I frowned at the melancholy in
her voice.
“I'm tired too,” she whispered dejectedly. “If you're the blind, mean guy,
then I'm the depressed bitch who can't be what anyone wants her to be.”
I curled my fingers around her hand.
“You're not a bitch,” I whispered.
“And you're not the weak, blind guy.”
I dug my nails into her skin, like I did for Corvus when he was spiraling. Yo
squeezed to let her know I wasn't letting her go.
“We're quite the pair,” she laughed hollowly. “The angel who can't fly
and the assassin who can't see.”
“I don't need to see to kill,” I said honestly. “And you just haven't learned to
fly yet.”
She made a noise of disagreement under her breath but didn't argue.
Silence expanded between us.
“What was it like growing up under the mad fae queen?” I blurted out,
then sighed with relief when she didn't try to pull her hand away.
It felt wrong that I'd lived through her heinous memories but had no idea
what her current perspective was on anything.
How had we never asked her about her past?
Just when I thought she wasn't going to answer, she whispered, “I think it
broke me. “Permanently.”
My heart twisted in my sternum, and a volcano of rage engulfed me.
Long minutes passed before I could speak. Since she was being so honest,
I said, “I used to not like pain. But in the devil realm, the weak evils are culled.
There's no such thing as a blind devil because anyone who makes it to
adolescence are killed off in the brutal school systems.”
My words hung between us.
She didn't gasp or give false platitudes like I expected. She squeezed my
hand with hers like she was telling me she understood.
After all, with how she'd grown up, she probably did.
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I didn't need to explain to her how cruel childhood could be.

There was something about the cramped tub and scalding water that made it easy
to bare my soul.
I spoke words I'd never revealed to another person, not even my mates.
“I don't know exactly when it happened. All I know is that one day after a beating, I
licked the blood off my lips and revealed it in the pain. I found myself craving the violence
and dreaming about hurting them back. “I wasn't born a monster—I became one.”

The intoxicating icy scent intensified.

Emotions swirled between us.
She whispered back, “I hated my mother, but I never wanted to kill her, and I found
myself thinking about her constantly. She was horrible, but I still don't know how to cope
with what I've done. What I've become.”
The rage intensified inside me, and I scowled.
“You did what you had to do,” I said harshly. “You survived, that's all you did. You've
become who you needed to be to live in a cruel world. It’s something to be proud of—not
something to be ashamed of.”
Water sputtered off her lips.
She squeezed my hand like we were tethered together. “Then that applies to you
too,” she whispered. “You survived despite the bigotry of the devil realm. If I'm not broken
—then neither are you.”
I dug my nails harder into her skin and acknowledged.
“I agree.” My voice was hoarse as I struggled to process the influx of unfamiliar
emotions filling my chest. The power she held over me was insane, and I was drowning
in her. Gladly.
She shook our hands up and down. “It's nice to meet you, Scorpius.”
“Same, Arabella.” My voice cracked.
Her breath caught as she inhaled, but she didn't reprimand me for using her given
name.
The unfamiliar emotion tripled in my chest, and it was like sunshine straight to the
soul.
Something fragile burned between us.
It was delicate and new. It was everything.
It felt like hope.
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Chapter 24