He blinks. “You did what?”

“Sank the knife into my own chest on the temple grounds. Figured I’d try to reverse his decision. Clearly, it didn’t work.”

And then, to my shock, the Wolf laughs. “That’s either the bravest or stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” He returns his dagger to its sheath between his wings. “But I can’t help but appreciate a mortal finding a loophole to a god’s loophole. Guess I can’t fault you, considering. But now you’re not an oathbreaker.”

That’s not comforting. The Wolf of Asteria is not someone who just walks away from an execution on a technicality.

“I don’t like that this amuses you.”

“You shouldn’t. Means I get to play with you longer. You’ve done an admirable job holding my interest tonight.” His hands clamp around my waist, hauling me closer. His magic lashes against my skin in a wave of heat. “Here’s what you’re going to do. I want you to go scrub off the blood. When you come out, these sheets will be clean, and this room will be empty. You’ll put your head on your pillow and remember this as nothing more than a hazy dream until the next time I visit to fuck with you.”

Next time. Is he insane?

The command vibrates through my skull, surging into my limbs and compelling me to obey. I strain against the thrall of his power, the inexorable pull of it. “But if I’m not an oathbreaker,” I pant, “then I’m Unclaimed. Fair game to kill right now without consequences. Are you seriously risking your king’s wrath and granting me a stay of execution because you’re bored?”

The Wolf stares at me for a long moment, his brow creased in confusion. As if he doesn’t understand why he’s making this decision, either. “I don’t always like listening to the king when he yanks my leash a little too hard. Keeps him on his toes. Reminds him who I am.” His gaze drops to my lips. “And I want another taste of your rage. Next time, if you’re very lucky, maybe I’ll let you sample mine.”

Then his magic crashes over me in a tidal wave of light.

And the world goes black.

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9

BRYONY

MY BEDROOM DOOR bursts open.

A jolt goes through me as Theodora storms in, coppery curls all mussed, dark circles under her eyes. She heads for my armoire and starts flinging drawers wide.

“On your feet, Bry. We need to get you dressed. I’ve been up all night trying to menace and bribe someone in the palace to drive us to the temple without alerting Uncle.” She pulls out a heap of clothes. “This place is full of spineless idiots.”

I push myself up on my elbows. “Theo, what—”

“After what happened last night, I don’t trust Idris with your safety.” She dumps the bundle of fabric on my mattress, already turning to rummage through another drawer. “I’ll threaten the Head Oracle into contacting Alexios and negotiate with him myself.”

I shiver as I swing my legs over the side of the bed and—Wait. Different nightgown. Gray silk, little vine pattern. When did I put this on?

A dream returns in snatches—those amber eyes, hot skin beneath my palms, lips against my ear.

Where do you want me? Where would you like to sink in your claws and teeth and tear?

Stupid. If the Wolf had been in my room, he’d have slit my throat and whistled while the blood pooled.

“Bry.” Theodora’s sharp voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. “Get that nightgown off. We need to move.”

I scramble to tug the shift off. Theodora lobs a chemise at me, followed by stockings. I yank them on, my hands trembling so badly I can barely work the buttons.

“How do you know Alexios will even bother to bargain?”

“He did it with Amalthea, didn’t he? I’ll be convincing.” She spins me around and tugs a soft muslin dress over my head. “I’ve seen an Enforcer come to collect. I won’t let that happen to you.”

My breath catches. I never spoke with Theo about that day in the palace woods two years ago—how quickly the Wolf killed. The way his power had pressed down on me. His words, low and intent.

Don’t ever give me a reason to come for you.

I swallow past the sudden dryness in my mouth. “Which did you see? The Wolf?”

“The Blade. The one without proper wings. His are like… living shadow spilling down his back.” She laces up my bodice, fingers deft. “I saw him when Aldgate stopped tithing and Uncle abandoned us. I went to speak with the village elders and remind them that nowhere is too isolated for a god’s notice. A lesson they all learned.”

“He killed them?”

“Yes. Every single one.” A shudder rolls through her. “By the time I reached the village, he was standing on a pile of corpses admiring his handiwork. I’ve never seen that much death.”

Watching the Wolf kill an oathbreaker was bad enough. I’ve heard his brother is worse. The Blade isn’t known for efficient kills; he just shows up for a massacre and makes it as bloody and brutal as possible.

“You spoke to him?” I ask, swallowing hard.

“You might say that. I got up in his face and insulted him.”

A strangled laugh escapes me. “Theo, you didn’t!”

“What was he going to do? Killing an Anchor breaks the Accords, and even an immortal attack dog has limits.”

Before I can respond, heavy footsteps thunder down the corridor. A moment later, Idris’ broad frame fills the doorway, and he scowls as he takes in my half-laced gown. “Whatever you’re planning, forget it.”

“I’m taking her to the temple myself,” Theodora tells him, finishing with my laces. “Right now, I don’t trust you to navigate your way off a toilet, much less with Bryony’s safety.”

Idris glares at her. “You take one step toward those gates with her, and I’ll have you dragged back by the hair.” He jerks his head at me. “Let’s go, Bryony.”

“Let her put shoes on,” Theodora snaps. “And don’t manhandle her in front of the servants. Grant her that small dignity.”

“Dignity?” He stalks to my dressing room, voice rising to a bellow. “She pissed that away the moment she bared her traitor’s brand to half the empire’s nobles and every royal family from here to the Southern Reaches.”

Idris storms out with a pair of my slippers. He chucks them at my feet, lip curled in a sneer. “Put those on.”

I slip into the shoes and tie up the ribbons.

Theodora grabs a cloak, settles it over my shoulders, and gently works the clasps. “Let me ride with Bryony. She shouldn’t be alone for this.”

Alone with you, she means.

“Absolutely not. Stay behind and keep the nobles calm.”

“You honestly expect me to play hostess after they all saw their princess show off an oathbreaker’s mark?”

“You’re a clever girl, Theodora. If those lords give you trouble, do what you always do and fuck them into compliance.”

Idris seizes my arm and hauls me toward the door. Panic claws up my throat. I twist around, searching for Theo’s face. She looks at me—angry, scared, her hands shaking.

“I love you,” she says.

“I love you, too.”

Idris yanks me away.

The servants won’t look at me. As my uncle drags me down the palace colonnade, everyone averts their eyes as if the sight of an oathbreaker might taint them. A few of the younger maids turn their backs.

Well. Guess I’m poison.

It’s funny, in a bleak sort of way. These same people used to fall all over themselves for a scrap of the Princess of the Blood’s attention, and now they avoid me like I’m a plague carrier. Typical. Once a god judges you, everyone’s quick to throw you to the wolves.

“Keep up,” Idris barks, tugging at my arm.

My teeth grind together, but I lengthen my stride. He wrenches the carriage door open, shoves me inside, and clambers in after me.