I was strong.

I’d survived being considered a failure to my family and a kingdom that never knew my name. I’d survived my mother’s biting disappointment and Tavius’s twisted cruelty. I’d survived the gods who had come to take me, and made it through Veses’ attack. I’d survived an Ascension that should’ve killed me. I’d survived Kolis.

Most importantly, I’d survived myself.

I was strong.

I was worthy.

I could do this.

And I needed no one, not even Ash, to speak for me.

I had faith in myself.

Just as I’d had faith in Ezra when I told her to take the throne—

Something clicked into place in my head that had nothing to do with the ancient knowledge I’d gained during my Ascension. There had been a reason I’d asked that of Ezra. It was because she had earned it.

And I still had a chance to do that here before it became an ultimatum.

My heart slowed, and my hands ceased trembling. Tension eased from my muscles and chest. The warm hum of eather replaced it as I stepped forward. Ash’s hand firmed around mine for a heartbeat and then slipped away. I stopped at the edge of the dais.

Below me, Rhain turned to the others. His chest rose with a deep breath. “Bow,” he said, his voice booming. “Bow before—”

“I will not bow to that,” Kyn spat, and my head jerked to him. “A common—”

“Finish that sentence,” I said, my vision flashing between gold and silver, “and you will find yourself running from that common whore once again.”

I heard a low, rough-sounding laugh from the direction of where Thierran stood in the alcove as Kyn glared at me. I arched a brow. His nostrils flared, but he kept his mouth shut, at least for now.

“Anyway,” Rhain muttered, clearing his throat, “bow for the One who is born of—”

“No,” I stopped him. His head swung toward me. I could feel Ash’s stare boring into my back. My heart was thudding again, but this time, it was different. Manageable. “I do not expect any of you to bow before me.”

Rhain looked like he wanted to run headfirst into a shadowstone wall. The others before me looked confused or, in Phanos’s case, like he was thinking of nothing. However, I’d gotten Thierran’s undivided attention.

“Yet,” I added, catching the small smirk that brought out one dimple on Attes’s cheek. “I don’t want your loyalty simply because of the essence coursing through my veins or because of the crown upon my head. Come to think of it,” I said, reaching for the crown. I lifted it, snagging a few hairs. The gold gleamed, and I glanced back at Ash. He watched me, curious but not concerned. His eyes were a molten silver, heated and bright. I looked back at those below. “I should not even be wearing this crown.”

Rhain closed his eyes, and Bele exchanged nervous looks with Saion and Rhahar.

Veses was still smirking.

Half-tempted to toss the crown at her face, I resisted the urge and willed it…well, I willed it wherever the crown was supposed to go when I didn’t want it. As it vanished from my hand, I hoped I hadn’t sent it to the Abyss.

“I’m sure some of you were thinking that. Or have. I know I have,” I admitted.

A throaty voice dug into every last nerve of mine. “Well,” Veses drawled, “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

My head snapped to her, but I didn’t get a chance to respond.

“If you interrupt my wife again,” Ash said, his voice a frigid warning that sent the flames above the candles flickering, “You will find yourself without the ability to do so.”

Veses’ mouth snapped shut. I didn’t think it was only anger that stained her cheeks. Ash’s threat had hurt her feelings, which was entirely fucked up.

But Veses was a mess.

I smiled at her. “I was saying that I have thought I shouldn’t be wearing the crown. Not because I was born mortal or because there has never been a Queen of the Gods.”

“Or because the essence inside you comes from Eythos,” Maia spoke up, her husky voice flat as she nodded in Ash’s direction. “And from him?”

“Not even because of that,” I said, keeping my hands at my sides and open. “However, I’m going to say what many have already thought, including me. Nyktos should be the true Primal of Life.”

A gasp of surprise came from someone on the floor as I felt Ash move, stepping closer to me. Phanos’s features sharpened, and his upper body leaned forward.

“Not because of who his father was or because of some birthright. As someone born mortal, I, more than most, know that birth doesn’t make you worthy of loyalty. Nor does gender,” I said, catching Phanos’ stare. “Nyktos has earned any loyalty you may have felt toward him. He did so through blood and sacrifice. You know him. He’s worthy of your loyalty whether you wish to admit it or not.”

Candlelight glinted off the pearl crown as Maia tilted her head. “He has.”

“But he is not the true Primal of Life,” I said, holding her gaze for a moment. “And neither is Kolis.” I took a small breath. “But you all already know that. Just like you know Kolis earned your loyalty through manipulation and fear. You all know him. And you know he is not worthy of your loyalty.”

“That is blasphemous,” Phanos stated blandly. “As is what you’ve done today.”

“You think this is blasphemous?” We needed to lure Phanos to our side, but disbelief and anger seized my tongue. “Did you not think it was that when Kolis killed Eythos’s wife simply because his brother refused to bring a mortal back to life for him?”

“A mortal he loved,” he argued. “Sotoria—”

“Do not speak of Sotoria.” Eather thrummed through me, and the corners of my vision turned silver-tinged gold once more. “You know nothing of her. And do not even dare defend his actions to me. What he feels for her is not love. It is a sick, twisted obsession.”

From the sky above, the deep, rumbling call of a draken could be heard.

I exhaled slowly, pushing the anger back down. “Was it not blasphemous when Kolis struck out against others in his anger, killing women and men? Children?” I waited for anyone to answer. “No? How about when he stole the embers from your King and installed himself as such?” My gaze swept over those below. “Was it not blasphemous when he snapped the necks of my family for no reason other than to lash out?”

“How about when you killed Embris?” Veses challenged.

My back stiffened. “I shouldn’t have done that. I lost control.”

The throne room went completely silent. No one, not even Kyn, had expected me to say that.

“And I will forever bear the shame of my actions. Not because I killed him. I cannot bring myself to care about him,” I said. “But I regret the consequences of my actions that were paid by the innocent.”

A muscle ticked in Kyn’s jaw when he folded his arms across his chest.

“I was told that Embris was a traditionalist,” I continued. “He did not care about tradition when Kolis stole the embers or when he lashed out at the mortal realm.”

“He did.” Phanos’s deep voice carried through the chamber. “But he was afraid.”

“As if you weren’t,” Kyn mocked.

The Primal of Sky, Sea, Earth, and Wind ignored him. “At that time, Kolis had taken the embers, and he would have been able to Ascend another Primal in place of any he struck down. We all knew that.”

I glanced at Attes. None of us has had much of a choice. That was what he’d said when it came to serving Kolis.

But once the embers faded in Kolis, the threat of death had passed for them, but not for the gods in their Courts, their draken, or anyone they may have cared for.

“Each of you did what was necessary to survive Kolis’s reign. You did what was necessary,” I repeated. The next words tasted of brimstone on my tongue. “I understand.”

“Just as you did whatever was necessary to survive?” Veses asked, her silver eyes pulsing.