“Don’t,” Evander snarls. “Whatever heroic bullshit you’re about to try—”

Alexios doesn’t even look his way. Just flicks his fingers like he’s brushing away a fly, and Evander’s words die in a wet gurgle. Fresh blood pours over his lips.

I dig my nails into my palms. “Stop.”

The Eternal of Asteria turns those burning eyes on me. “I have to admire your nerve, if nothing else.” He crosses his arms. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to reveal dark tattoos in a flowing script on his forearms. “It’s almost impressive how thoroughly you’ve managed to fuck up the natural order of things.”

My hands tremble. “You mean how you upended my life? Tore away my protection on a whim?”

“When your little zealots abandoned my temple for your gates, they damaged the Shroud near past mending.” His red eyes narrow, as if he’s imagining all the inventive ways he could make me hurt. “And now you’ve turned my Enforcer into your lapdog.”

“They weren’t my anything,” I snap. “Maybe if you weren’t an absent god, and if my uncle did his job as a ruler, they wouldn’t have been so desperate for someone who gave a shit about them.”

Something dark flashes across his face. I’ve hit a nerve. “Then we’ll focus on what you did do, girl. You killed an Anchor under my protection. Even in your realm, that has consequences.” He circles me, those massive wings flexing. The tattoos on his arms pulse red. “Let’s make something clear. Being the Wolf’s Chosen might save your life, but it won’t save his. That wall he’s built to shield you from his pain? I’ll tear it down until you feel everything I do to him. A human might reconsider her choices after she feels her mate being flayed alive.”

It’s suddenly hard to breathe around the knife in my chest as images flood my mind of Evander being tortured. Skinned. Bled. For me.

I force my emotions down. “What do you want from me?”

One dark brow arches. “Want?” A low, cruel laugh. “Oh, Princess. This isn’t about wants. The Wolf slaughtered my Claimed in Hellevig, and an Anchor’s been murdered against my wishes. The Accords demand payment in blood. The only question is whose—yours or his.”

The kind of damage an Eternal could take is unthinkable. Intolerable. Evander could endure centuries of pain if Alexios wanted.

“He did it for me,” I say. “I’ll take his punishment. All of it.”

Evander thrashes against his invisible bonds. “Don’t—”

Alexios flicks his fingers again as the invisible lash of his power wraps around Evander’s throat. Fresh blood spills from his nose and trickles down his lips. Despite the pain, his eyes never leave mine, pleading mixed with that familiar fury.

You reckless creature. His snarl slams into the walls I’ve built in my mind.

I refuse to let him in. Not now. If I feel what he’s feeling, I’ll unravel.

“Name your price.”

Alexios studies me, as inscrutable as the statues in his grand temple. “What would you sacrifice for him, Princess? Where’s your breaking point? A little pain? A lot of it?” He leans close enough that I can feel his breath on my cheek. “Are you willing to die for this?”

The silence stretches. I feel Bastien’s cold stare on me, assessing. Waiting for me to crack.

“I’d do anything,” I say firmly. “Everything.”

“Hmm. Your family has a reputation for saying one thing and doing another. So, when Amalthea Devaliant crawled to me begging for clemency mid-war, I had her demonstrate her sincerity. I’ll do you the same courtesy. Three tests to prove your conviction. Complete them, and I’ll consider the Wolf’s slate wiped clean.”

Bargain for Evander’s leash, a voice whispers in my head.

I glance at Bastien, but his expression gives nothing away. What?

His leash, Bastien repeats, his mental voice cold and flat. You’re his Chosen. You can demand that his full power be restored.

Why are you helping me?

Nothing. He’s gone from my mind as quickly as he entered.

I swallow, hoping I’m not falling into a trap. “That’s not enough.”

Alexios’ eyebrows shoot up, as if no one has ever dared to counteroffer.

“If I survive your tests,” I continue, “then his power should be unbound completely. That’s my right as his Chosen.”

“Bold little human,” Alexios murmurs, eyes narrowing.

“You can’t kill me directly, so I’m guessing this is your loophole. So I’ll take my chances.”

Some calculation clicks behind that burning stare. “I’ll accept that bargain.”

Insist on fair terms, Bastien’s silent voice instructs. Parameters within human tolerances, or there’s a distinct possibility this agreement will be worth less than the air you waste making it.

“It has to be something I can conceivably do,” I press, following Bastien’s advice. “The tests. I have to be able to succeed. I can’t win if it’s rigged.”

Alexios dips his head in acknowledgment. “Fine. Possible, but not easy. I’ll suppress the magical feedback you share with Evander as his Chosen. He stays in power-suppressing cuffs until you earn his release.”

A low growl of protest comes from Evander before he breaks off with a hiss of pain.

And that solidifies my resolve. The Wolf of Asteria doesn’t show weakness, not unless he’s in the kind of agony I can’t conceive of.

“Let’s seal it,” I say.

Alexios stretches out his hand. I hesitate, but out of the corner of my eye, Bastien gives me an imperceptible nod.

Slowly, I place my palm in Alexios’. He plucks a small blade from the sheath at his wrist, slices open my skin in a shallow cut, and repeats the motion on himself. He presses our wounds together.

Power pours into me, the formation of a new tether. A shining golden cuff forms around my wrist—the physical mark of our deal.

Alexios wrenches me forward until bare inches separate us. “Sealed in blood and magic, Bryony Devaliant. For the duration of this game, you’re mine.”

Then he releases me with a shove, turning back to Evander. “Get your Chosen to my palace, Wolf. And Blade, keep our boy on his best behavior. Her first test starts tomorrow.”

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45

BRYONY

THE PALACE MATERIALIZES out of the mist as Evander dips into a tight spiral. Towers of opalescent stone cut through the clouds, their surfaces catching the sunset and breaking it into red and gold shards. The compound spreads across the mountainside as if someone had carved it directly from the peaks.

This is Alexios’ palace? I ask Evander.

Silence. Like a psychic door slamming in my face.

Still sulking, I see. Lovely.

Evander dives, sending my stomach plummeting. Details resolve as we plunge closer—gold and silver tiles on the roofs, copper accents glinting along the crenelated battlements and turrets. The entire place gleams red and gold in the waning sunset.

Everything rests on a precipice of rugged rocks. Teal runes flare on the walls, humming with power—the magical equivalent of a raised portcullis.

We soar over the manicured gardens dotted with pale winter blooms. Frost rimes the topiaries and fountains, the spitting streams frozen into glittering crystal arcs. Courtiers wander down the paths in silk dresses, dripping in glowing gems with trapped flames.

The flagstones rush up to meet us—until Evander snaps his wings out, bringing us to a jarring halt. I fight down a surge of nausea as he sets me on my feet.

Alexios lands beside us in a flurry of feathers. Bastien touches down a beat after that, his wings a shifting shroud of shadow.

“Blade,” Alexios says coolly, “escort Evander to the cells. Princess, you’re with me. I’ll show you to your room.”