I brush my hair out of my face. “No thanks. I’ll stay with Evander.”

Evander makes a furious sound from behind me. “Go with him.”

I whirl. “Oh, now you’ve decided to acknowledge that I exist? How big of you.”

He just glowers at me.

Alexios’ burning gaze flicks between us. “Spare me the lovers’ quarrel. If the girl wants to wallow in a cold dungeon all night, that’s her prerogative. Blade, take her to the Wolf’s cell, but don’t let her inside. If he gives you any trouble, remind him what it feels like to be in the pit.”

“Understood,” Bastien says. He turns his void-dark stare on me and Evander. “Come with me.”

We fall into step behind him as he stalks off down the path. The breeze carries snippets of hushed conversation from the courtiers, and I feel their stares as I follow Bastien through the looming doors into the palace.

The atrium unfolds before me in a dizzying sprawl of polished marble. Columns wrapped in gold vines rise on both sides, supporting arches adorned with delicate metalwork. Chandeliers scatter light across the glossy floors. To my left is a fountain shaped like a serpent with water burbling from its open jaws.

Courtiers linger through the halls in a sea of multicolored wings—vibrant purples and emerald greens, deep indigos and ambers. Their cold stares sweep over me, some openly repulsed, others unreadable. No one offers a reassuring smile as we pass.

Every conversation dies the deeper we walk through the halls. My skin prickles with the electric hum of their power, as if they’re braced for a threat.

Their stares keep dropping to my wrist—to the glowing eight-pointed star that marks me as the Wolf’s Chosen—but there’s no awe in the staring. All I see is disgust. Contempt. As if I’ve stolen something that was never meant for me.

It takes a moment for it to fully sink in—I’m not just a human; I’m a Devaliant. Some of these demis probably watched my ancestors butcher their families. I’m sure they’d rip me apart without Evander’s mark protecting me.

“You good?” Evander’s deep rumble snaps me out of my spiraling thoughts.

I swallow hard and nod. Evander’s brow furrows like he wants to say something else, but—

“Wolf.”

We both turn as a familiar demigoddess with dark hair and silver wings stalks toward us. Arcadia. The demigoddess who’d touched Evander in the garden that day like she’d done it a thousand times before. Who’d grabbed him for a kiss like she owned him.

She doesn’t slow down or hesitate, just storms up to Evander and slaps him across the face. He staggers back a step, a red print already blooming on his cheek.

“You soulbonded with a Devaliant?” Arcadia hisses, wings flaring. “Have you lost your fucking mind? Did someone knock the last shred of sense out of your skull when I wasn’t looking? Or did you just decide to spit on everything we lost?”

A ripple goes through the assembled court. Shame scalds my cheeks. The back of my neck prickles as the weight of a hundred judgmental gazes settles on me.

“Lovely to see you too, Cady.” Evander rubs at his face. “Been practicing that slap? Got some real power behind it.”

Cady again. I know it’s stupid to be jealous. He’s lived for centuries before me. But the possessive part of me—the part I didn’t even know existed until Evander—wants to claw her eyes out.

“You think this is a joke?” The hardness in Arcadia’s voice cracks, revealing something raw beneath. Something that makes me want to look away. “Why her? Of all people, why would you Choose—” She swallows thickly and glances away.

I suddenly feel like I’m intruding on something private. Something I have no right to witness.

“Arcadia.” Bastien’s voice is oddly gentle. Like he knows exactly what she’s feeling. “That’s enough.”

She sends him a venomous look before whirling on me. Those mercury eyes dissect me from head to toe like I’m something she found rotting on the bottom of her boot. “You think you belong here?” she sneers. “You’ll never be one of us. The Wolf might have Chosen you, but you’re just a pet he’ll get bored with. You’re not a queen.”

She storms off. I stare after her, my blood roaring in my ears. Pet. The word burrows beneath my skin like a splinter. I’d been so focused on saving my sister and not dying that I hadn’t let myself consider the rest—that if I win Evander’s freedom, I won’t just be bound to a male.

I’ll rule beside an Eternal.

Bastien’s eyes meet mine, and I read the unspoken accusation: my presence is salt in old wounds, a living reminder of everything they lost.

Evander’s hand grazes the small of my back, steadying. “Eyes front. Don’t let them see you flinch.”

I nod, grateful for the grounding touch.

We leave the main hall, following Bastien down a labyrinth of corridors. With each turn we take, the press of bodies thins out until it’s just the three of us, our footfalls unnaturally loud.

Before long, we arrive at a spiral staircase delving deep into the crags of the mountain. More runes flare, bathing the walls in red as we descend, the air growing colder with every step. The lights from above fade until there’s nothing but the weak illumination of the sigils lighting our way.

At the bottom, cells line the narrow hallway. The torchlight catches on dark stains covering the floor. I’ve spent enough time in Hellevig’s temple to recognize dried blood when I see it.

“In,” Bastien orders his brother, swinging open the nearest cell.

Evander steps inside without argument. The cell is barely big enough for him to stretch his wings. He stands motionless, not even flinching as Bastien secures a set of thick cuffs around his wrists and ankles. The metal ignites, flaring with pale light as the restraints seal into place, and the stink of seared flesh fills the air. My gorge rises as I realize what I’m seeing.

Turpori steel. The only thing in the realm capable of suppressing an Eternal’s power.

“What happens if he fights?” I ask. My voice emerges steadier than I feel. “Alexios said something about a pit.”

“Where Evander was headed before your bargain.” Bastien winds a set of chains around Evander’s torso, immobilizing his wings. “Complete sensory deprivation. Magic-suppressant cuffs. A long climb through miles of dirt to reach the surface, depth depending on the king’s mood.”

A shudder runs through me. “You’ve experienced it?”

His hands pause as he tests the final cuff. A minute tell, his composure fracturing for the span of a blink. “Twelve years. It’s unpleasant.”

And then he’s striding from the cell and slamming the barred door behind him.

I sink to the floor and arrange myself against the wall, as close as I can get to the male on the other side.

Bastien looks at me, unreadable. As if he’s trying to puzzle out the shape of me. To slot me into predetermined boxes with neat, tidy labels.

“I’d advise selecting proper quarters,” he says. “A bed, a bath, a door that locks from the inside.”

I almost laugh. “Thanks, but I’m good here.”

His eyes narrow, and I know I’ve surprised him. Stepped outside whatever narrative he’s constructed for me. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He starts away, but I scramble to my feet and hurry after him.

“Wait.”

Bastien turns back, the broad line of his shoulders rigid.

“Why did you help me earlier?” The words tumble from me in a rush. “With Alexios. You didn’t have to talk me through that negotiation, but you did. Why?”

A pause. I watch the restless movements of his shadow wings. “Your mind was a smoldering wreck when I looked through it earlier. It offended me.”

“Oh,” I say faintly. “I can see how that would be unpleasant, but I’m not sure what it has to do with—”

“Buried in all that pathetic mess, I found what someone more sentimental might call love. For my brother.” His gaze flicks to Evander, then back to me. “He let me beat him half to death without fighting back. For you. When you’re involved, he clearly operates on a policy of idiocy, so keeping you alive seems like the most efficient option.”