Ash’s fresh, citrusy scent enveloped me for a moment before his lips brushed my forehead, right below the crown. “You’ve got this.”

Did I?

“You do,” Ash whispered.

Had I asked that question out loud? My hands trembled slightly as my grip tightened on Ash’s hand. Weight began settling on my chest, causing my shoulders and neck to tense.

I took a deep breath and held it for five seconds. Ash’s gaze caught mine. He gave me a short, barely noticeable nod.

I reflexively sought that veil of nothingness where I could retreat into myself and become whatever was needed of me.

You’ve got this.

That was what he’d said to me before we met with the gods after I’d awakened, too. And while I hadn’t been convinced, Ash had been sure. He had faith in me. He didn’t believe my anxiety made me incapable. He didn’t believe that me being born mortal made me weak. None of the gods here thought that.

I was strong.

My time in Dalos had proven that, and it had nothing to do with the essence pumping hotly through my veins. I didn’t need to don the veil of nothingness to find strength. I just had to be myself. Though not the burn-it-all-down version. Maybe the fifty percent burn-it-all-down version—okay, more like seventy percent. But also who I was becoming.

“Ready?” Ash asked.

I nodded.

Ash held my gaze for a moment longer, and then Nektas opened the throne room door. Fresh, late-afternoon air washed over us as we walked across the dais, his hand remaining wrapped firmly around mine.

We passed the hauntingly beautiful thrones carved from blocks of shadowstone, their backs stretching into wings that touched at the tips. The only sound was our footsteps as Nektas veered to the right, and we reached the edge of the dais.

Thousands of candles jutted from the smooth, black walls, and hundreds more hovered above the main floor, scattered throughout and casting a soft fiery glow over the massive, circular chamber open to the shining stars. Guards lined the walls, two by two, standing together every four feet, dressed in black, their hands resting on the pommels of their swords. The main doors were closed, but I knew a small army’s worth of guards was stationed outside the doors and all along the Rise.

Ash squeezed my hand, and I realized I was holding my breath for far longer than five seconds. Forcing my lungs to work, I looked past the empty shadowstone benches, my gaze momentarily snagging on Penellaphe. She…she looked well, dressed in a peach-hued tunic and pants. The bronze crown of olive branches and serpents looked better on her than on Embris. Though I could’ve done without the serpents. I started to look away, but a dark figure against the wall snagged my attention. Thierran. My lips twitched. He was leaning against the wall with one boot propped against the shadowstone. He stared straight ahead at no one in particular. It amused me that he had weaseled his way in. Then I saw who stood near him, and relief surged through me once more. I saw a familiar brown-haired god beside Attes: Elias. The guard I’d met in Dalos gave a short, quick nod. As Rhain moved to stand at the foot of the dais, my eyes locked with hers. I saw no one else.

Veses was toward the back, and it registered that she stood next to Kyn. Her blond hair fell in ringlets to her impossibly narrow waist, and the jade tree crown made from a stone matching the deep red of her gown sat upon her head. Her dress covered her from the neck down, yet every part of her body was still somehow revealed in the skintight crimson silk, from her ample breasts to the indent of her navel.

Her face had a strange pinch to it when she stared up at me, almost as if she couldn’t believe either of us was standing there. Maybe it was the crown upon my head. Perhaps it was the fact that I dared.

Seconds ticked by with us staring at each other. I had no idea if she was thinking about the last time we’d seen one another in Dalos. Her shame? My pain? Was she reliving the moment Kolis had punished her by giving her to Kyn? Or how she’d ordered me not to intervene on her behalf? Saying that what Kolis had done was nothing, even though we both knew that wasn’t true. Was she smug in the knowledge that she had tried to warn Nyktos, but I hadn’t listened? Or did that knowledge make her uncomfortable?

I was thinking all those things, and as the seconds ticked by, I couldn’t help but think about how Veses deserved all kinds of unimaginable pain for what she had done to Ash.

But my thoughts hadn’t changed when it came to what Kolis had done to her. She didn’t deserve that.

No one did.

I didn’t have to like the bitch to acknowledge that.

A muscle twitched just above Veses’ delicate brow, and then she looked away, her lip curling into a smirk. But I knew.

I knew she was unsettled by the sight of me. It made her feel something.

I looked at the Primal beside her. For some reason, the bastard was shirtless and barefoot. He, too, appeared stuck between shock and anger, his narrowed gaze darting between me and his brother, the reddish-black crown dull in the weakening sunlight pouring in from above.

As I stared at Kyn, a fierce storm of rage-fueled eather surged through me, threatening to consume every ounce of restraint I possessed. The air charged with it as I stared at the Primal who had played a role in my family’s demise and the destruction of my home.

Everyone in the room felt the power pounding through me. I held Kyn’s gaze, and Ash’s hand tightened around mine.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

I counted between breaths as every fiber of my being screamed for vengeance. Yet I gritted my teeth and forced myself to hold back, knowing that succumbing to the rage would not only end with the Fates doing something messed up in return for violating the rules of balance but would also end with me causing more violence and suffering.

Reeling in my self-control, I forced my gaze from Kyn to the Primal of Rebirth. Keella wore a caped, golden gown, and upon her head sat the crown of pale-blue quartz with many limbs and leaves. I saw Bele then, but she, too, had changed her attire. Gone was her customary black. Now, she wore white pants and a fitted white tunic. A crown of ruby antlers sat upon her head. I thought it looked far better on her than on Hanan.

Another reddish-black helm caught my attention. My gaze locked with Attes’s. He winked. Beside me, Ash sighed. To his left stood the most beautiful Primal goddess I’d ever seen.

A crown of pearls, roses, and scalloped shells sat upon Maia’s warm blond hair that fell in waves to her lush hips. The Primal Goddess of Love, Beauty, and Fertility wore a pale-pink gown similar to Keella’s. She smiled as my gaze swept over her, and I felt relief at the response.

But it was the one who stood at the back of those before the dais, separate from everyone else, arms folded over his chest, that gave me hope. No crown sat upon the Primal God of the Sky, Sea, Earth, and Wind’s burnt-umber head, but he didn’t look shocked or angry. He looked…curious.

It really wasn’t only about the sizes of Maia’s or Phanos’s armies anymore, even though we wanted as many soldiers on our side as against us. Though like Attes had said, we were going for more precision, targeted battles that didn’t require grand landscapes. It was more about the fact that I didn’t want to have to send them to Arcadia or worse.

But what was also huge was the silence in the throne room.

No one spoke.

Not even Kyn.

My mouth dried, and my gaze flickered over those before me. Anxiety threatened to rise like the three-headed serpent I’d faced in the cavern, poised to strike and deliver venomous self-doubt.

Tremors coursed through my hands, and I started to look at Ash but caught myself.