His chest shudders beneath my touch as he visibly struggles against Alexios’ hold.

“Just promise me something?” The words barely make it past the lump in my throat. “When you think of me, remember that I love you. And that if our positions were reversed, you’d make the same choice.”

I lean down and press my lips to his in a kiss that feels like the end of worlds. Like galaxies colliding. Like two dying stars finally surrendering to the inevitable pull of gravity.

I kiss him with everything I have, every shard of my soul that belongs to him. I pour a lifetime’s worth of feeling into the slant of my lips—I love you and I love you and I love you.

And then I wrench away.

I turn to Alexios and nod in a silent assent to get this over with.

He draws a blade from his boot. My hand shakes as I take it from him, its weight like a promise, an oath. This is my lineage, my birthright. House Devaliant was born and bred for this singular purpose.

It’s only fitting that I return to it now—this time, on my terms. The death I choose.

“Remember,” Alexios says. “You have to mean it. No half measures.”

Drawing in a deep, steadying breath, I tighten my grip on the knife and lower myself to my knees, angling the point over my thundering heart.

My voice only trembles a little when I say, “I need your help to push it. I can’t do it one-handed.” The wrist he broke is numb now, hanging limply at my side.

Alexios kneels beside me, wrapping his hands over mine. “Look at him. Look at what you’re dying for.”

My eyes find Evander’s again, and I let myself have this last moment to etch him into my memory. I think of all the times he held me. Laughed with me. All those sleepless nights and stolen kisses and bruising fingertips. I remember his smile. The softness of his wings under my palms.

I let the remembering fill me until there’s no room for anything else—for fear or pain or regret. I wrap those moments around myself like armor and brace for impact.

“Ready,” I whisper.

Alexios’ stare meets mine, and we both shove the dagger into my chest.

Agony explodes through me. My vision flashes, narrowing down to the steel buried between my ribs, the bloom of scarlet spilling down my breastband.

“That’s it.” Alexios’ voice. “Bleed for him.”

So I do.

I fall back into the sand and yield to the darkness. Let it open its jaws and draw me into the drowning deep. There are no ledges to cling to, no handholds to scrabble for purchase, no way back. There’s only the helpless surrender and the descent into the Void.

My life has been hundreds of deaths staring up at vaulted temple ceilings and marble statues. I know this hurt, the cold and nothingness of the vast, unyielding black. There’s a terrible intimacy to this pain. Strange, how death feels the same as falling in love—all-consuming and terrifying. There’s no great conflagration. Just the plunge. The fall.

Down.

Down.

Dow—

A scream shatters the nothing. I burst awake in agony, my spine arching as power sears through my veins, stitching me together. It fills every hollow space, every crack and crevice, until I’m burning from the inside out.

And then my back tears open.

The pain transcends anything I’ve ever known. It cleaves through muscle and sinew and bone, flaring wide to give way to—

Wings.

They explode from my shoulder blades in a spray of dazzling light. Pure white dappled with gold, resembling fresh snow touched by the first rays of dawn.

They’re massive—and heavy. The muscles of my back strain as they struggle to compensate for the sudden weight.

I’m still trying to process—being alive, these wings, this magic running through me—when a familiar touch brushes my face.

Evander. Out of his shackles.

Awe fills his expression, breathless and full of quiet devastation as his gaze roams over me. Over my wings.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs thickly, tugging me against his chest. “I’ve got you, nemesis. Breathe for me, okay? Just keep fucking breathing.”

I sag against him as the arena spins. As my body tries to reconcile the new shape of itself, to grapple with the reality of pinions and flight and other.

But Evander isn’t finished with me.

His face hardens, and he grabs my shoulders to give me a small shake. “You reckless lunatic,” he snarls. “What in the ever-loving fuck were you thinking?”

“I was thinking”—a cough rattles from my newly reformed lungs—“that I love you.”

“Don’t—” His voice cracks as he crushes me against him. “Don’t you ever do that again. Do you hear me? Never. Fucking. Again.”

I’m spared answering by a pointed throat-clearing. Alexios fixes the assembled demis with a cutting look, and I swear the temperature plunges.

“I trust,” he says, “that she’s proven herself to you all? That Scillari claiming her is good enough to let her take her place at an Eternal’s side? No further pound of flesh you’d like to extract?”

His gaze sweeps the arena, daring a single one of them to so much as breathe dissent.

No one makes a sound.

And then—movement. A demi with silver wings lowers his head, kneels, and places a hand over his heart. Another follows. Then another. They all fall to their knees one by one.

“That’s for you, Princess,” Alexios whispers.

For me.

I’ve been worshipped and exalted as the Princess of the Blood. The Anchor. The sacrifice. I’ve had my name screamed by crowds of faithful, been showered with priceless gifts, had poets write odes to my beauty.

And nothing—nothing—has ever felt as good as seeing these demis place their hands on their chests and go quiet for me. I didn’t get this because I was born. I didn’t get it through ancient oaths or bloodlines or traditions.

I earned this.

Alexios straightens. “You’ll all have plenty of time to get acquainted with the Wolf’s queen, but she needs rest now. Let him have her.” He gestures upward with a jerk of his chin. “Go on. Out.”

They rise into the air in groups, their wings catching the torchlight as they fly toward the open oculus. Power drifts across my skin, and my own wings twitch with an instinct I don’t understand—something primal, a desire to stretch my limbs wide and follow.

“They want to fly with you,” Evander murmurs, noticing my reaction. “It’s tradition when an Eternal takes a Chosen. They’ll wait until you’re ready.” He bumps my shoulder. “Told you they’d come to love you.”

I watch until the last of them disappears from the arena into the night sky, and then it’s only the three of us.

Alexios faces us. “Let’s get one thing clear. This realm doesn’t just hand out wings because you asked nicely. When a mortal bonds with a god, Scillari tests them. It needed proof you were worthy of its king.”

Behind me, Evander’s chest vibrates with a sound that’s pure violence. “You could have fucking mentioned that.”

“If I’d told her, it wouldn’t have been real. The laws of our existence aren’t suggestions I get to ignore when they’re inconvenient.” He spreads his hands. “Be grateful someone still remembers how this works. It’s been thousands of years since one of us was stupid enough to soulbond with a human, and the realm rejected her. The last thing I needed was to put down another grieving, destructive Eternal.”

He fixes me with an assessing look, gaze skating over my new wings. “One more thing.” He holds out his hand, and the box I took from Nyholm materializes in his palm. “The seal inside releases the Wolf from his collar. Put the crystal right to his chest. When his power detonates, your bond is going to need attention.”

“What kind of attention?” I ask.

“The kind that keeps you in bed for a week. So pick furniture you don’t mind destroying.”