Of course she does, you smug fuck. But temper has no place here. Reason, I remind myself. Diplomacy.

“She knows. Doesn’t like it, but she gets it’s my call.”

He arches a brow. “How domestic of you. What do you want?”

“Permission to pass through the wards at will. Bryony wants to see her sister, and Theodora is bound to Hellevig until she births an heir to carry on their bloodline.” I spread my hands in a silent, There it is.

The things we do for love. The monstrous bargains we strike.

Alexios just watches me, and I feel the weight of millennia in that hard red stare. The civilizations he ground to dust under his heel. Right now, he’s the Eternal through and through—conqueror and god-king, the one who stitched the realms together using shreds of his own soul to do it.

“No,” he says flatly.

I exhale through my nose, calling on every damn bit of restraint to keep from lunging for his throat. “You made me watch while you tortured my soulbonded mate,” I say, my voice deadly soft. “By every Scillarian law, I’d be giving my judgment on your punishment. Instead, I’m volunteering to help hold up your barrier. Letting the Devaliant sisters see each other is a small fucking ask.”

“It’s not a ‘small fucking ask,’” Alexios says. His power swells, pressure building, until a spark of lightning skitters over his cheek. “You want to parade a famous Devaliant through Vartena, where any idiot with functional eyes might notice their dead princess suddenly sprouted wings. Have you thought this through at all?”

My magic rises, snarling against his. The air thickens as our Eternal energies collide. “No one will see her. No one has to know.” I take a step forward. “But Theodora needs her sister if you want her sane enough to anchor your precious Shroud. Let them have this, or I’ll ally with Nyholm and leave you drowning under this burden alone. How long before it drives you completely insane, do you think? A century? Less?”

Electricity sparks between us and thunder rolls across the mountains, but I don’t flinch. I’ve spent too many years watching him demolish things to fear his temper now.

Finally, he looks away. “Fine. She can go to Hellevig. Keep it brief.”

“Thought you might see it my way.” I roll my shoulders. “Now. How do we stitch my magic into this mess?”

“I’ll bind you to a fifth of its weight to start. If you thought the collar hurt, wait until you experience the Shroud clawing into you.”

“I’ll hold. My Chosen bled for me. It’s only fair I return the courtesy.”

Something flickers over Alexios’ face. Maybe a shadow of recognition, of what it means to destroy yourself for another. “Open a vein. Bleed onto the ground and let the Shroud drink deep. Let me handle the rest.”

I unsheathe my blade and slice my left palm, watching as scarlet wells up and falls to the soil.

Alexios mirrors the action. His power unfurls and lashes my skin in a concussive wave of electric pressure. It sings through my veins and crackles over the Shroud in indigo lightning.

He cracks his neck. “Try not to scream too much.”

Then he slams our bleeding palms together and—

Pain explodes through me. The Shroud tears through skin and bones, sinking claws into my soul and cracking me open. I’m lost. There’s no gentle meld, no gradual coaxing of magic into new paths. Only a violent collision.

“Let it in.” Alexios’ voice is distorted and strange, filtering through layers of static. “Stop fighting, you stubborn fuck.”

I squeeze my eyes shut.

And I fall.

I fall and fall and fall. Searing cold floods my senses, fills my nose and mouth and lungs until I’m suffocating from it. Submerged in the frigid rush burrowing into all the empty spaces.

Everything feels wrong. Like I’ve been torn apart and nothing fits right anymore and I’m wearing someone else’s skin. My awareness stretches until I sense the pulse of the realms, the endless expanse of space between them.

And then … it settles. Calms like a heavy weight pressing to my chest.

Distantly, I feel Alexios’ hand on my nape. “Breathe through the pressure.”

I drag in air and breathe, gulping greedy lungfuls as my body tries to reconcile this new shape. This peculiar tightness in my bones.

Slowly, I come back to myself. Light whirls behind my eyelids, and a strange ache pounds inside my skull.

Evander? A phantom touch skates my consciousness, soft as a sigh. Are you okay?

I send a surge of reassurance down the glittering tether that binds Bryony’s soul to mine. I’m fine. Just the Shroud getting comfortable.

When my vision finally clears, I find Alexios watching me.

“Welcome back,” he says. “You keep all your insides where they should be?”

“I feel like I got thrown off a cliff, then smashed to a pulp on the way down. How do you bear it?”

He smiles slightly. “Let it fill up your ribcage until you stop choking on it. You’re not going to pass out, are you?”

The gall of this bastard.

I glare at him. “Not likely. What now?”

“I’ll tell the sentries to let you pass. And Severin needs to know you’re claiming Turpori until your brother gets his head out of his ass and takes his share.”

I nod my thanks.

Silence falls between us, broken by the wind whistling over the mountains. I notice a subtle shift in the atmosphere, a prickling at my senses. The pressure in my chest tightens another notch.

“Does it ever stop feeling like this?”

Alexios clenches his jaw. When he finally speaks, his voice is softer than I’ve ever heard it. “No. It’s always too much.” He looks out over the rippling barrier, something weary bleeding through his careful mask. “But you learn to endure it and keep breathing even when it feels like your spine might snap.”

I see him then—really see him. Not the god-king or the monster who hurt my mate, but the Eternal who’s been bearing this responsibility for centuries. Who’s felt it eating away at his sanity.

“This is the price we pay,” he says. “When it’s too much, go to your griefwood. Remember what you’re stopping from happening.”

Thunder rolls in the distance as storm clouds gather, and the heaviness of the Shroud presses harder against my chest. Testing my limits, waiting for me to crack.

But I won’t. I’ll carry this burden for her. For what she needs.

Lightning splits the sky, and then it begins to rain.

OceanofPDF.com

EPILOGUE

EVANDER

SHE’S GOING TO FALL.

I watch Bryony move closer to the cliff, wings pulled too tight against her back. It’s been fifteen days of watching her stumble and curse as she learns this new body. Fifteen days of pure torture. Because there’s nothing worse than seeing your Chosen struggle and knowing you can’t make it easier.

You’re going to let me fall, Wolf. Then you’re going to let me get back up and do it again.

I always keep my promises. So I keep letting her fall.

“You’re thinking too much,” Amara says, nudging Bryony. At the bottom of the cliffs, the waves of the Osbu Sea batter against the rocks. “Flying isn’t about mechanics. It’s instinct.”

Bryony’s wings twitch. “And exactly how long did it take you to master it?”

Amara smiles. “Years. But I wasn’t an adult demigoddess, so you might as well put in some effort. Get your ass over there and jump.”

Bryony inches her feet more. Her jaw’s clenched so damn tight I can practically hear her teeth grinding. All day, she’s been trying to wall up her emotions and pain from me, but her fear is bleeding through the bond.