So easily, that we rolled off my lips.

The corner of Raihn’s mouth twitched. “There she is.”

He sat up, face hardening into an expression I’d seen many times before—the same look that would come over him during one of the Kejari’s trials. A kind of bloodthirsty focus, like he’d been presented with a very entertaining puzzle.

“So, princess,” he said, “that leaves us to figure out how to get back into the castle we just barely escaped alive. Now that we’ve established that we’re fucking insane.”

Two of us. A castle full of Rishan and Bloodborn soldiers. Most of whom were probably frantically looking for us. Septimus, presumably, still would want me for my blood. Simon needed to kill Raihn, and quickly, if he wanted to get his own Heir Mark. The nobles would support him due to his history alone—if out of nothing more than distaste for Raihn—but that goodwill would only last so long if Simon never managed to get a Mark of his own.

“Bad odds,” I said. But I found myself suppressing a smile.

“Oh, you look dismayed,” he said wryly.

I shrugged. “Reminds me of old times. It’s been a while since I’ve been underestimated.”

“We know just how much you love that. Going up against impossible odds.”

Despite myself, I smiled. “You loved it too.”

“I’ll admit it.”

He flopped back on the bed, hands behind his head. “So. If I remember right, this is the part where we come up with some kind of brilliant, twisted plan.”

It was indeed. And my mind was blank.

I fell next to him, staring up at the crooked wooden planks above us. A spider swung from beam to beam, crafting a silver-silken web. It was a chaotic thing, near-invisible threads strung messily into the shadows, functional but far from beautiful. Like fate itself, I supposed.

For a few long moments, we thought.

“So what do we have?” Raihn said.

Then, to start answering his own question, he said, “We have us.”

“A human and a usurped king,” I said, flatly.

“No. Two Heirs who won the Mother-damned Kejari.”

Fair point. Raihn and I had individually managed to fight through incredibly unbalanced battles in the Kejari, and done even more together. What’s more, our power had grown exponentially since receiving our Heir Marks. Sure, mine was still difficult to control, but I’d used it to kill Goddess-knew how many soldiers to save Raihn.

Somehow it had seemed… easier then, lost in a frenzy for blood.

All my life, Vincent had admonished my emotional impulsivity, teaching me that stoicism and focus were the only paths to mastering my magic. Yet I’d never felt more powerful than I did in those moments, totally out of control of myself.

I couldn’t let myself think about that too much now. How easily Raihn being in danger had unlocked something primal in me.

Mische in danger, I hoped, might unlock the same viciousness.

The corner of Raihn’s mouth quirked, albeit with a humorless edge that I suspected foreshadowed his own viciousness.

“Honored you have such faith in us, princess,” he said. “And after all this time.”

He got out of bed and crossed the room. I eyed his backside—I couldn’t help it—as he leaned over the bureau and rummaged through it. When he turned around, something sharp and glittering glinted in his hands, nestled in silk.

I recognized it before he returned to the bed. My brows leapt.

Vincent’s mirror.

“You have it,” I breathed.

“I got it out of the castle as soon as I could. You think I was about to let Septimus keep it? Or leave it lying around where you could find it and bring another round of Hiaj soldiers to my doorstep?”

I was almost offended. Almost. It was a totally reasonable concern.

Either way, I was wildly grateful.

I traced the edge of the shard with my fingertips, watching a little sliver of my reflection.

“So this gives us Jesmine,” I said.

Raihn gave me a sidelong glance. “You trust her?”

A valid question to ask, in the wake of a coup. Raihn couldn’t trust his own nobles. And hell, I couldn’t trust many of mine, either—but for better or for worse, Jesmine had been nothing if not loyal. She never had to follow the orders of her king’s human daughter, who she’d never even liked much anyway. And yet, she had, without hesitation. That counted for something.

“I do,” I said.

But whatever Hiaj forces I might have were far away from Sivrinaj, now. And we didn’t have time to raise an army before we moved.

I looked across the room, to the pile of my belongings that had been strewn over the floor yesterday. I slid from the bed and stood. I was endlessly aware of Raihn’s stare running over my naked body. There was a strange kind of satisfaction in that, I had to admit. Strange kind of pleasure, too.

I rummaged around in the pile of bloody silk and pulled out the Taker of Hearts.

Even sheathed, I could feel its magic burrowing under my skin. Not long ago, that had been uncomfortable, almost painful, like my flesh was too weak for it. Now? I could sense power in that discomfort—heady and a little disorienting, like vampire wine.

I could feel, too, my father’s presence in it. Like he was standing right over my shoulder, silently critiquing my grip.

“And we have this,” I said.

A weapon that Vincent had used to kill hundreds—thousands, even—of incredible warriors over the years. A weapon powerful enough to defend a throne for two hundred years.

A weapon powerful enough to destroy one of the last true great Rishan cities.

My stomach turned at that thought. I lifted my gaze to meet Raihn’s. No more joking in it now. Not even desire. No, he was utterly serious, mouth set. I wondered if he was thinking about the same thing I was—the ashes of Salinae, and the role this weapon may have played in making them.

“Nothing to scoff at,” he said quietly.

The pride I’d once felt in being able to wield this weapon soured slightly.

No. Nothing to scoff at. I’d taken down dozens of Simon’s men with this thing—and that had been alone. With Raihn beside me? Hell, we could almost fight our way through that castle by ourselves.

Almost.

As if reading my mind, Raihn said, “If we were taking them by surprise, we might be able to do it by brute force. But not tonight, when we’re the most wanted people in the House of Night.”

I settled back at the edge of the bed. Raihn and I were silent, thinking.

He was right. Brute strength wouldn’t work. But I hadn’t won the Kejari by being the strongest, anyway. I’d won because I had spent my whole life learning how to survive in Obitraes despite what I was or wasn’t. Learning tricks that could get me farther with less.

Tricks like…

My lips curled slowly.

Even before I looked up, I could hear the smile in Raihn’s voice. “I think I recognize that face.”

I said, “We have one more thing. We have me.”

47

ORAYA

Vincent had taught me how to stay alive. That meant learning how to fight, yes, but it also meant learning how to flee.

My father had created a castle perfect for a man who knew, one day, his greatest threats could come from within his own house. The tunnels were extensive, confusing, and disjointed. Septimus was aware of some of them—my own foolishness had seen to that. But he couldn’t know all of them, let alone guard them.

The hard part would be making it there.

I was certain that Vincent had created multiple avenues into and out of the castle. Unfortunately, he hadn’t trusted me with any of them—in hindsight, it made sense that he didn’t want to give me ways to sneak away from him. Still, he’d given me instructions on one way out. One way that was so unpleasant, he could feel confident that I wouldn’t use it unless my life was in imminent danger.