I didn’t have time for their shit.

Twisting, I swung the sword in a high arc, cleaving the Rev’s head from its shoulders. Remembering what I’d been told about Callum’s head reattaching itself, I kicked this one down the hall.

“Kolis!” I screamed. The door to my right opened.

A blast of eather knocked the sword from my grasp, spinning me back a few feet. I caught myself before I went down. My skin smoked, my flesh charred, and I couldn’t feel my blood-soaked hand. I lifted my head.

A god stood before me, breathing heavily. I thought he looked familiar as he lifted both hands and took a tentative step back, a lock of brown hair falling across his forehead.

“I’m not going to fight you,” he began.

“Shut up,” I said, snapping forward. I gripped his throat with my ruined hand. It hurt, but I drowned myself in the pain and sent a rush of eather through him.

The god’s head kicked back, and he screamed, eather pouring out of his open mouth.

I dropped him, throwing out my hands. Eather spread across the interior wall. “Kolis!” I yelled. “You wanted this! Face me!”

He didn’t appear, even as I moved deeper into the building, leaving a path of ruin in my wake. Panting, my steps slowed when I entered a windowless hall. I’d been here before.

I stopped and listened. The fingers of my good hand twitched, and my head tilted. There were sounds. There had been noises the entire time. Quiet ones. Moans. Whimpers. Some louder. But I didn’t hear the rumble of a draken as my stare fixed on the wall.

Kolis wasn’t here.

The son of a bitch likely suspected I would come for him and took his draken and most of his Revenants.

But I knew what he didn’t take.

My chin lowered, and I pulled the essence to the surface. It pulsed and then crawled over the wall. I tore the innermost wall of the Sanctuary down, block by fucking block, exposing what Kolis kept inside to the sun.

There were many of them. Hundreds of Ascended. Most started to run, their skin smoking. Some came at me. Others headed for parts of the Sanctuary that still stood. None made it, their flesh catching fire. My gaze collided with the fine features of one not much older than me.

Jove.

I couldn’t look away as his face contorted in pain—the same features I’d seen fear in not that long ago.

He’d been a Chosen.

But he hadn’t chosen this. He hadn’t chosen any of this.

The throbbing in my chest intensified. I staggered sideways and turned. Jove fell in a fiery heap. My gaze landed on the path of destruction I had left as the smell of burnt flesh filled the air.

Through the smoke and crumbled stone, I saw a section of the Sanctuary still standing with strips of white rippling in the wind. I walked through the smoke, jerking to a stop.

A group of Chosen stood huddled together, pressed against one of the walls. Most were veiled, but others were not, their faces masks of fear and horror as they…

As they stared at me.

“It’s okay,” I assured them, lifting a hand.

They shrank back, some even screaming. My gaze fell to my hand, where eather still swirled around my bloody, charred fingers, wisps licking the air. Through the gore, I saw the still-shimmering golden swirl of my marriage imprint on the top of my right hand.

Every muscle in my body locked up as patches of shiny new pink flesh appeared. What…What was I doing?

My gaze flew back to the Chosen—to those I would give a real choice to once I’d dealt with Kolis. They could serve as intended without fear of exploitation or return to the mortal realm. I would set them free. Not harm them. But it was clear they were terrified of me. And this time I…

I had given them a reason to be.

I reeled back, inhaling sharply, and shook my head in disbelief. Of course, Kolis wouldn’t have taken them. He’d known I would come. All the guards were proof of that. Yet he still left them here. He didn’t care about life.

Did I?

The strips of white billowed as the clouds overhead began to break apart. The sight of them cowering in fear was startling, but the realization of all that’d led me here was monstrous.

I’d taken lives. Countless lives.

Oh, gods.

I stumbled, my heart thumping. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my chest seizing. In my mind, I saw the villagers, their arms raised to a sky I’d brought down on them in an act of justice.

An act of vengeance.

I kept walking backward, hands and arms trembling. My thoughts raced. I had to fix this. I had to. I could. I would.

I returned to Terra. The bells of Masadonia had ceased ringing as I walked into the blood-drenched forest. Slivers of moonlight filtered through the heavy canopy of crimson leaves, reflecting off the ash-hardened shells of the fallen villagers.

I knelt by one and saw there were two. A man or a woman with another beneath them—a desperate attempt to shield a child.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, lightly placing my bloody hand on the shell. “I’ll fix this.”

I put my other hand on the ground. I didn’t know what I was doing—it was instinctual. I summoned the eather, and it responded in a hot rush. My skin tingled with warmth, and gold-laced eather seeped from my pores and dripped onto the ground beside drops of blood that had fallen from me. I lifted my head and stared at the forest floor through strands of pale, bloodied hair. Tendrils of eather rolled out, casting a glow as the essence swirled under and over the shells of the dead, leaving glittering daylight in its wake. My fingers dug into the soil. Wisps of Primal mist seeped beneath them, curling and spreading across the ground.

Beside me, the shells shuddered, and the ash flaked off. Patches of pink flesh and ragged clothing appeared. Singed blond hair. My eyes locked with wide, blue ones full of fear and awe, reflecting the golden glow of eather. I pulled my hand back, and ash mixed with blood, smearing my fingertips.

“Momma?” a small voice trembled. “I had a bad nightmare.”

The woman’s attention immediately shifted to the small one in her arms. A sob shook her body as she held the little boy close.

I rose slowly, my body aching. Villagers stood throughout the forest, their faces pale or marked with confusion as they shook ash from their hair and clothing. They moved slowly, helping others stand, and some stood transfixed as the gold-laced silver tendrils disappeared into the mist, still gathering along the forest floor—

“Thank you,” a man whispered, dropping to his knees, the weathered skin of his jaw slack. “Thank you, my—”

“No.” I flinched as the man looked up at me how that guard Wil Tovar had. Others followed suit. Like I was a blessing. A miracle bestowed upon them. A benevolent Primal Goddess of Life. But I wasn’t. I was the opposite. The nightmare the boy had spoken of. I had not earned their praise or worship. I deserved their fear.

“Rise and leave,” I said, pushing with my voice—with my eather—until all were standing and backing away from me. “Leave this place.” The corners of my vision were filled with silvery, golden light. “Leave this place and never return. There is nothing but death here—in the Blood Forest.”

As they fled, I left and returned to Wayfair. To my family.

It was not quiet here. Deep, hollow bells rang from the Shadow Temple in a solemn rhythm of death as I limped forward. My gaze lifted to where Ezra remained impaled to the now-cracked wall.

My heart shattered again.

But I would fix it. I was the true Primal of Life.

I could bring them back.

All of them.

My clever, fair sister and her kind, loyal wife. My mother, who had named me after the brave and revered Queen of the Vodina Isles. The small ones in the gutters. Those in the sea, lying in the streets, and beyond Lasania. I would return them to what they were, just as I had with the villagers in Terra.