Nyktos was gone when I woke but returned before I rose, almost as if he’d sensed that I’d awakened. He’d had a bath drawn for me and had breakfast ready when I finished. He’d been mostly silent throughout the meal—not distant or cold, just quiet, and I didn’t let myself dwell on the reasons for why he had little to say. Instead, as I got ready, I allowed myself to enjoy last night, focusing on what he’d shared about the Primals’ morality and the pleasure that had come afterward. I had so many more clothing options this morning and settled on a pair of laced leggings, a white blouse, and a black vest that had been tailored just for me. And I let myself enjoy that, too. Other than the wedding gown I loathed, everything else had been hand-me-downs. But not these. The clothing lining the wardrobe now belonged only to me, and that was a strangely empowering feeling that stayed with me as Nyktos and I left the palace to enter the mortal realm.

Despite what Nyktos had claimed that morning as he summoned Odin from his silver cuff, the steed was not over me holding a dagger to Nyktos’s throat.

Odin eyed me as if he were debating biting me as I approached him. That disposition hadn’t changed as we traveled the road I’d arrived in the Shadowlands on, but it hadn’t diminished my excitement as the Primal mist enveloped us.

I was going to see Ezra.

And I was about to see my lake.

Two things I’d feared never seeing again.

The white haze blotted out the realm as I tensed. I knew it would only be temporary, but the inability to see still filled me with unease.

Nyktos’s arm tightened around me. “Just a few more seconds,” he said, his voice soft against my temple.

I nodded, grasping the pommel of Odin’s saddle. Seconds, I reminded myself, and seconds was all it took for the haze to scatter, and for a stream of faint light to pierce the brief void of darkness that came afterward.

Sunlight.

My lips parted as the mist eased off, revealing the lake’s shadowstone floor and the still waters on either side of us. Seeing the lake split in two as if held back by invisible walls was an unsettling sight.

And an impressive one.

I tipped my head back as Odin took us across the lake. Only a faint, fractured sunlight pierced the clouds overhead. The heavy scent of rain hung in the air, and I hoped that meant some much-needed rain had already fallen—or would—and not the drizzle that did nothing but increase the humidity—something I was already beginning to feel under the cloak…the thinner of the two new ones Erlina had made for me. The soft material would soon become nearly unbearable, but it was wise for us to keep our faces hidden.

Nyktos lifted his hand once we were on the bank. The water immediately fell back into place, and he glanced down at me. “Impressed?”

“No.”

He chuckled roughly, urging Odin into the Dark Elms. I cracked a grin as I scanned the ripples from the waterfall cascading off the Elysium Peaks and spreading across my lake, my chest feeling looser than it had in weeks. I kept my eyes on it until I could no longer see even a hint of the water, then faced forward, pushing down the keen yearning to feel the water on my skin and slip beneath the surface.

“I wish we could linger,” Nyktos said after traveling a few moments in silence, his hand shifting on my hip. “So you could enjoy your lake.” His thumb began moving in idle circles just above the waistband of my breeches. “Once it’s safe, I promise we will return to your lake. You can come back as often as you like.”

I pressed my lips together as the back of my throat suddenly burned with emotion. I’d likely projected something in that moment, and that wasn’t surprising to discover. The lake felt like a part of me, and I wasn’t sure if the fact that it was a gateway to the Shadowlands had anything to do with it. But what brought the faint sting to my eyes was his response.

His promise.

“I’d like that,” I whispered.

We said nothing more as Odin navigated the thick clusters of trees. The Dark Elms were quiet, not even the faint moan or wail of a lost spirit could be heard. The breeze didn’t even penetrate the woods. When we neared the edges, and the walls of Wayfair Castle came into view, a strange sense of nervousness filled me.

“We should walk the remaining distance,” I suggested. “Any guards who spot us will already be suspicious of two people coming out of the Dark Elms. Odin will draw even more attention.”

Odin huffed.

“It’s because you’re rather large,” I said to the top of Odin’s head. “And very beautiful.”

He gave another huff.

I sighed.

Nyktos drew the horse to a halt. “He appreciates the compliments.”

“Doubtful.”

“He does.” Nyktos swung himself off the horse with ease. “He just likes being dramatic.”

Odin turned his head to Nyktos as he puffed out another aggravated-sounding breath. I gripped Nyktos’s arms, accepting his aid as he lifted me by the waist. He was close, and as he lowered me to the ground, I was treated to a full-body slide that sent a rush of pleasure through me.

His hands lingered on my hips, the weight and feel of them igniting a pleasant hum in my blood and chest, where the embers wiggled. I lifted my gaze to his. The eather in his eyes had faded to a faint pulse behind his pupils.

“Ready?” he asked.

I nodded.

Nyktos didn’t move. Neither did I, and the hue of his eyes heated to quicksilver. I thought he might kiss me just to kiss me, even though we didn’t have time for that. Something about seeing him in the mortal realm made him seem more reckless, impulsive. More like…

Ash.

His jaw tightened as his hands left my hips and found the hood of my cloak. I didn’t understand the small burst of disappointment. Kissing simply for the sake of kissing felt like something…more.

And while what we were now felt like something different than before, and definitely not like those hasty bids for pleasure I’d experienced in the Luxe, we were not more.

Nyktos lifted the hood of my cloak and then his. Pulling myself out of the somewhat-troubling direction my mind had gone, I turned to the wall and got myself moving.

“The guards who normally patrol this section of the wall aren’t the most…astute,” I told him, enjoying the feel and sound of the crunch of fallen branches under my boots. “They will likely assume that we’re a part of the staff since the Dark Elms—”

“Are private property?” He grinned as I shot him a look from beneath the cowl of my hood.

“Nice of you to acknowledge that now.”

Nyktos chuckled.

“But I was going to say since everyone avoids the Dark Elms, and they can’t be accessed from outside the Wayfair grounds,” I continued, “they’ll probably think we didn’t actually enter them…” I trailed off as we cleared the last of the heavily branched elms.

My mouth dropped open at what I saw.

Nyktos stopped. “Is something amiss?”

“The gates to Wayfair are open.” I stared. “And there are…people.”

There were people everywhere. Not nobles but the people of Lasania. They milled about the wall, their faces glistening with a sheen of sweat as some carried baskets and others armfuls of sacks.

“I’m guessing that’s not normal?”

“No.” I shook my head in confusion. “This isn’t normal at all.”

I started walking, half-afraid there had been some sort of uprising. If so, I couldn’t blame the people for fighting back, but that likely wouldn’t have ended well for any ruling party.

A fine drizzle began to fall, and many of those in the courtyard lifted the cowls sewn into their shirts and vests. I picked up my pace as we crossed the uneven, rocky soil and passed through the gates. Guards were stationed inside the easternmost part of the courtyard, but none in the ridiculous plum-puffed waistcoats and pantaloons of the Royal Guard. I squinted, searching the many entrances of Wayfair’s east wing for them.