Maybe she was right.

Perhaps that was why the Primal of Death had decided that he no longer needed a Consort. After all, I carried the ability to steal souls away from him.

There seemed to be many reasons…

I thought of when Sir Holland had sat me down after the incident with Butters and explained that I hadn’t done anything wrong by bringing Butters back. That it wasn’t something to fear. He had helped me, at six years old, to understand why I had to be careful.

“What you can do is a gift, a wonderful one that is a part of who you are,” he’d said, kneeling so we were at eye level. “But it could become dangerous for you if others were to learn that you could possibly bring back their loved ones. It could anger the gods and Primals, for you to decide who should return to life and who should not. It is a gift given by the King of Gods, one that should be held close to your heart and only ever used when you’re ready to become who you were destined to be. Until then, you are not a Primal. Play as one, and the Primals might think you are.”

Sir Holland had been the only one to ever refer to it as a gift.

And what he had said made sense. Well, the part about it being a potential danger. People would do all manner of things to bring back their loved ones. Who knew how many went to the Sun Temples, asking for just that? But it was never granted.

Now, the part about me using the gift only when I was ready to be who I was destined to become didn’t exactly make much sense. I imagined he’d been talking about once I fulfilled my duty. I had no idea.

Closing my eyes, I let my hands fall to my lap as a heady warmth filled my chest. I’d felt that before when I used the gift. I hadn’t done it often. Just a few times on a stray dog struck by a carriage and a wounded rabbit. Nothing as large as a kiyou wolf.

The warmth invading my blood was stronger this time, and I figured it had to do with the size of the wolf. The feeling reminded me of how a swallow of whiskey seemed to blossom in the chest and then spread to the belly. The tension in my shoulders and neck eased.

It was a strange feeling, knowing that I had taken a life and then gave one back in the span of a few hours.

My thoughts drifted to that tiny babe. If I’d had a chance, would I have attempted to use my gift then? Would I have broken my rule?

Yes.

I would have.

I didn’t know how long I sat there as night fell around me, but it was the distant, mournful wail of a spirit that pulled me from my thoughts. Tiny goosebumps pimpled my skin as I squinted into the deep shadows between the trees. Grateful that the keening sound hadn’t come from the direction of my lake, I rose. As long as the spirits left me alone, they didn’t bother me. I started walking, hoping the wolf didn’t come close to the wall again. The likelihood that I’d be around next time wasn’t high.

 Traveling deeper into the woods, I pulled the pins free of my hair and unraveled my braid, letting the heavy length fall over my shoulders and down my back. Eventually, through the cluster of narrow elms ahead, I saw the glittering surface of my lake. At night, the clear water seemed to catch the stars, reflecting their light.

Carefully navigating the moss-covered boulders, I slipped through the cluster of trees and let out a soft sigh as grass gave way to loam under my feet and I saw the lake.

The body of water was large, fed by the fresh springs birthed somewhere deep in the Elysium Peaks. To my left, only a dozen or so feet away, water tumbled out of the cliffs in a heavy sheet. But farther out, where it was too deep for me to travel, the water appeared unearthly still. The dark beauty of these woods and this lake had always felt enchanted to me. Peaceful. Here, with only the whistle of the wind between the trees and the rushing water of the falls, I felt like I was home.

I couldn’t explain it. I knew it sounded ridiculous to feel at home on a bank of a lake, but I was more comfortable here than I’d ever been within the walls of Wayfair or on the streets of Carsodonia.

Bright moonlight spilled across the lake and the bulky chunks of limestone dotting the shore. Placing the pins on one of the rocks, I slid the blade from my boot and set it beside the hairpins. Quickly, I peeled off the blood-spotted gown, letting it fall. I shimmied out of my slip and undergarment, removing my boots, and wondering if I could somehow make it to my rooms in just my slip without being seen. The thought of donning the sticky clothing that smelled of White Horse smoke made my nose wrinkle. It was unlikely that I would be able to go unnoticed by the Royal Guards standing watch at the entrances, especially after what’d happened tonight. The King and Queen would surely learn of my scandalous arrival. My smile kicked up a notch at the thought of the horror that would fill my mother’s face.

That alone made it almost worth risking discovery.

The too-long length of my hair brushed the curve of my waist and fell forward over my breasts as I placed the slip next to the pins and the dagger. I really needed to cut my hair. It was becoming a pain when it came to detangling the numerous knots that formed at the first breath of air.

Shoving the curls out of my face, I padded forward. I knew the exact location of the rocky bank that had become an earthen set of steps, anticipation a heady trill in my blood.

I found the step in the moonlight. The first touch of chilled water was always a shock, sending a jolt through my system. Like the utter idiot I often proved myself to be, I’d once jumped into the lake during a particular hot day and nearly drowned when my lungs and body seized on me.

I would never do that again.

Slowly making my way onto the flat floor of the glimmering pool, I bit down on my lip. Water steadily lapped up my calves and spread out from me in small, rippling waves, which were swept away in the soft current. My breath caught when the water reached my thighs and again when it kissed far more delicate skin. I kept going, exhaling softly as my body adjusted to the temperature with each step. By the time it teased the tips of my breasts, tension had already begun to seep from my muscles.

Taking a deep breath, I let myself fall. Cool water rushed the still-heated skin of my face and lifted the strands of my hair as I slipped under the surface. I stayed there, keeping my eyes squeezed shut, scrubbing at my hands and then my face before breaking the surface. And I stayed even longer, letting the water wash more than the stale stench and sweat away. Only when my lungs began to burn did I rise, breaking the surface. Smoothing away the hair plastered to my cheeks, I cautiously crept forward.

The water was a little over waist-deep where I was, but there were dips that came out of nowhere and seemed bottomless, so I was careful. I had no fear of water, but I couldn’t swim, and I had no idea what the depth of the middle of the lake was nor the area near the waterfall. I wanted so badly to explore there, but I could only get within ten feet of it before the water started to rise above my head.

Sighing, I tipped my head back and let my eyes drift closed. Maybe it was the sound of the rushing water or the isolation of the lake, but my mind was always blissfully blank here. I didn’t think about everything I’d done or my mother. I didn’t think about the Rot and how many more bellies it would rob of food. I didn’t think about how I’d had a chance to stop it and failed. I didn’t think about the man whose life I’d ended today, any that had come before him, or what had happened to the Kazins or Andreia Joanis. I didn’t wonder what would happen once Tavius took the throne. I didn’t think of the damn god with silver eyes, whose skin was cold but made my chest feel warm.

I just existed in the cool water, neither here nor there or anywhere, and it felt like a…release. Freedom. Lulled and maybe even a little enchanted, the strange, prickly sense of awareness was a sudden shock.