“What you did would’ve ended in disaster,” she said. “But your willingness to take such a risk speaks of your integrity. And that is to be respected. Honored.”

Respected? Honored? I tried to think of a time when I had been on the receiving end of either of those things as we crossed under an archway. Before the night of my seventeenth birthday, I’d been honored, but not for anything I’d done. Only for what my family believed I could do for the kingdom. They respected that. Not me.

We reached the empty but brightly lit foyer and passed under the cascading glass candles powered by Primal energy. I half-expected an entire armed fleet of guards to be waiting for us. Forcing out a short breath, I glanced at the plain, white pedestal with nothing on it, wondering for the umpteenth time what, if anything, had once sat there. A nervous sort of energy buzzed through me as we passed the entryways to the halls, one of which held Nyktos’s office. The palace was eerily silent as we passed that corridor.

My anxiousness ramped up. “Where are we going?”

“To Nyktos,” she answered. That much was already apparent, but she didn’t elaborate.

I folded an arm over my stomach as my gaze shifted to the throne room. My steps slowed. I couldn’t remember seeing the doors closed before. If I had, then I was less observant than I realized because there was a beautiful design painted on them. The same kind of scrolling vines embroidered on the tunics Nyktos and his guards wore had been engraved in silver. White poplar leaves bloomed from the vines. In the center of each door were two crescent moons facing each other, and in the space between them, across the closed doors and painted behind the spiraling vines, was the shape of a wolf.

A white wolf.

I blinked, my brows pinching as I stared at the design—

The ember belonging to Nyktos hummed in my chest as the doors silently swung open upon our approach, revealing two unfamiliar guards. My pulse skittered. Why was I meeting him in here? Senses on high alert, I entered the throne room and jerked to a stop.

Under the glow of the star-strewn sky high above the open ceiling, and the thousands of lit candles lining the walls, stood…good gods, there had to be hundreds of men and women standing in the throne room, garbed in the dark gray of the Primal’s guards and armed to within an inch of their lives.

It couldn’t be all of them because I knew the Rise and Lethe wouldn’t go unprotected, but the vast, circular chamber was nearly full. My wide gaze swung over the sea of faces. I caught sight of Saion standing with Rhahar across from Rhain and Ector. Another male stood with them, one with dark, wavy hair and the same pale, ivory skin as Orphine. Rhain looked away, his jaw tight as my gaze touched his.

My confusion only rose as I saw Lailah and Theon, joined by a purplish-black-scaled draken that reached the height of their knees. It was strange seeing Reaver in his draken form when he’d looked like a boy of ten with shaggy blond hair, an elfin face, and solemn, too-serious eyes the last time I’d seen him. Then I looked at the dais.

Nyktos stood before the empty thrones, dressed in a loose shirt and dark pants. Even from a distance, his eyes found and held mine. My heart started pounding as I stood there.

“Come.” Orphine motioned for me to follow.

As if I’d fallen under a spell, my feet moved. Guards and gods parted as we walked forward, the room so quiet I feared they could hear the thundering of my heart as I reached the rounded steps. I truly had no idea what was going on, but I didn’t think Nyktos had brought me before all of these people to yell at me. He had to know how poorly that would go for him, Primal or not. I stopped again because Orphine had, and…

Because Nyktos’s intense stare was still locked on me and my hair, which I’d left down. That choice had had nothing to do with his fascination with it or that he’d once said it reminded him of moonlight. Not at all. The back of my neck tingled as I slowly climbed the short set of steps.

“It’s okay,” Nyktos said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. Candlelight glinted off his cuff as he extended his hand to me. “Take my hand.”

Too confused to deny him, I did as he ordered. Nyktos gave a nod as I turned to face those below. The guards at the doors closed them as Reaver prowled out from the mass of people. Talons clicking softly as he crossed the shadowstone floors, he climbed the steps. I didn’t see Nektas, but I saw Aios standing near Paxton, the young mortal boy that Nyktos had brought to the Shadowlands after he’d tried to pickpocket him. The confused pinch to her features mirrored what I felt.

Nyktos placed his other hand on my shoulder, the chill of his fingers bleeding through the sweater, serving once more as a reminder of what I’d done to him. “Those gathered here are some of my most trusted allies,” he continued quietly. It struck me then how he never referred to his guards or the gods under him as servants. He only spoke of them as equals. “They have sworn to protect the Shadowlands and stand against Kolis and those who support the false Primal of Life.”

My stomach gave another tumble as Reaver crouched by my legs.

“All of them have done so with the knowledge that their oath will likely end in death. And yet, they actively work to restore Iliseeum to what it once was—a realm of peace and fairness to all. They’re all brave, almost to a fault,” he said, his voice rising. “Just as you are.”

Air whooshed out of my lungs.

Nyktos squeezed my hand as he lifted his gaze to the crowd. “Any of them would have done as you did the other night,” he spoke, allowing his voice to carry through the throne room. “Any of them would sacrifice themselves if they thought that would protect the Shadowlands and those who seek shelter here.” He lifted his head as Reaver leaned against my legs, stilling the faint tremor that had begun there. “Seraphena has taken no oath, sworn no loyalties, nor does she yet wear the crown of the Consort. She has not been here long, but she was still willing to risk her life to protect all of you—all of those within the Shadowlands and beyond. Believing that she was the cause of the recent attacks, she planned to turn herself over to Kolis. Though she is not the cause,” he said, the slight lies rolling off his tongue smoothly. “Her bravery is unmatched, even among all of you.”

There were no dismissive laughs as shock rippled through the faces of those I recognized and those I didn’t. And I…I was just as surprised as I stood there. I didn’t know if I should throttle Nyktos or hug him. Because no one—utterly no one—had ever recognized anything I’d ever done in such a public way. I heard a low murmur as my gaze swept over the crowd, stopping on Aios. The blood had drained from her face.

Nyktos’s thumb brushed across the inside of my palm, causing me to jerk. “Seraphena will be a Consort more than worthy of the swords and shields each of you will wield to guard her. One the Shadowlands will be honored to have.”

I felt dizzy as I stared at Aios, then movement caught my attention. Ector stepped out from the throng, withdrawing his sword. He crossed it over his chest as he lowered himself to one knee. “Then we will endeavor to be deserving of such an honor.”

I jerked again, bumping into Nyktos as Reaver lifted his wings and stretched his neck, letting out a staggering, high-pitched call. Nyktos steadied me as Saion did the same as Ector, then Rhahar and the twins. Then shouts echoed Ector’s vow as swords were lifted, and gods and guards alike knelt.

“None of them will harbor any ill thoughts toward you now. They will see you as you are. Brave and daring.” Nyktos had lowered his head, speaking so only I could hear him. His cool breath danced over the shell of my ear, sending a shiver over my skin. “And if they still harbor any ill thoughts, they will be the last ones they ever have. No matter how loyal they are to the Shadowlands, I will destroy them.”