Assyria pierced me with a sharp look, squeezing Kiira tighter. “Can’t you see she’s upset?” she snapped down our bond. “Maybe be a little nicer and let her speak.”

I grumbled but stood down.

“So what did you see of me?” Assyria asked, her tone soft and guiding.

Kiira lifted her gaze to meet mine as if she were pleading with me to understand. “The first glimpse I had of you winning, Rokath, you carried Zaph and Ishim’s heads through the streets of Sivy. Now, though, Assyria is by your side when it happens. And you’re carrying Koron Stadiel’s head.”

All air fled my lungs. For a moment, all I could do was blink. “What? The outcome completely changed?”

Kiira’s teeth dug into her bottom lip. “Yes.”

“I’m confused. Is that not how Sight works?” Assyria clarified, brows dipping together.

“When Kiira receives one, they always come to pass in exactly that way. She’s never had a repeated one, or one that changes later. Unless I’m mistaken?” I offered my cousin a chance to clarify.

She shook her head. “Never until now.”

“When exactly did you have this vision?” I repeated the question, wondering if she’d seen it before or after Assyria’s kidnapping. If she’d seen it before…

“About a week before I received your letter.”

The snake crushing my chest eased. I hadn’t realized just how tense I’d become over the thought that I could have acted differently, slaughtered Zaph in that moment instead of allowing him to butcher my army.

“So after Rokath chose me over the soldiers,” Assyria murmured, her mind walking along the same path as mine.

“If that is the timing, then I think it was a test for you, Rokath,” Kiira said, finally emerging from her slumped, defeated posture. “The Fates rarely weave a fork in our paths. Determining which direction to take might incur a cost—or gift—we can’t foresee. To me, it seems that by choosing Assyria, you changed the future of your victory.”

I didn’t know whether to feel relief or dread. To know that even an innocuous choice could carry a massive consequence curled unease in my gut. Would Kiira’s new prophecy alter the timing of our victory too? Extend our war into years to come or shorten it to our next assault?

Yet one thing was certain: if I ever saw Zaph again, I would not have to hold back. He would fucking die, slowly, painfully, excruciatingly, and I’d savor the entire experience.

“What else is there?” Assyria asked.

I blinked, tearing myself away from my riot of thoughts.

My cousin offered her a sad half-smile. “A great sacrifice will have to be made.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but Kiira held up a hand. “I know nothing of what the sacrifice is. In my vision, I was watching you approach, Assyria by your side, and an army of males and females was at your back. Rapp and Xannirin were there too. But one word rang out loud and clear, over and over and over.”

“Sacrifice,” Assyria murmured.

Ice slithered down my spine at the word.

Kiira exhaled, shaky and slow. “I had this immense chill, like I was standing atop the glaciers in the Skala Mountains, despite being in the heart of the Eső Forest. It was one of the most vivid visions I’ve ever had, if not the most vivid.”

“And it came with far more clarity than the others you had of Assyria?” I questioned. I had to be clear in my understanding. It was the only way to protect the Demons.

“To this day, I don’t remember the drawings or anything else you spoke of about her. When I try to think about it, all I see are glimpses of her eyes,” Kiira said, attention dancing over my mate with overt interest.

“Maybe that’s because when I left Stryi, I was using my magic all hours of the day?” she suggested. Absently, she twisted her mother’s ring around her finger.

Kiira lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “Perhaps. We’ll never know for certain.”

Frustration clawed up my spine, and I curled my fingers into a fist, the bite of pain grounding me. “How will we know anything for certain now that we know your visions can change?”

Silence stretched between us for a long moment as Kiira weighed my words. My cousin tugged on the ends of her hair, running her fingers along the dark length as she so often did when she was deep in thought.

“Look for major turning points and think them through carefully,” Kiira offered finally. “If the Fates are truly testing us, perhaps they need to know we can make good decisions on our own without their interference.”

“What if they never predetermined our paths in the first place?” Assyria challenged, embers burning in her eyes. “What if life is always a series of choices, and so far, the three of you have always made the one that leads you to the visions you had?”

She had a point. We may have purported ourselves as Gods, but no one truly knew the workings of our deities. That was where the power of belief entered, and that power was one we’d endlessly exploited to serve our needs in shaping society. After all, if the populace believed it to be true, if we had the claws of fear sunk deep into their hearts, they were like sheep—easy to herd in whichever direction we wanted.

“After all, no matter how much we pray and spill our blood, bad things still happen to us.” Assyria uncrossed her arms and leaned forward. “We can say it’s the Reaper cursing us, but for what? Why would they choose to have their faithful suffer?”

“These are all questions many have struggled with for a long time,” Kiira told her, reaching out and taking her hands. “So it is okay if you still harbor them. Explore them and find meaning in your suffering. It is what I had to do in my position.”

The sight twisted something in my chest—something soft and rare that felt a lot like what a family should be.

“Have you told anyone else about this yet?” I asked her, redirecting the conversation to the matter at hand.

“Only Rapp. He was the one who encouraged me to tell you both right away,” she sighed, looking at her hands once again. She fiddled with a diamond band, the stones dancing in the sunlight.

At least she hadn’t told Xannirin before anyone else. He could have used it as leverage. I suspected that was why she hadn’t, given that as much as we’d spoken, he still hadn’t acquiesced to the bare minimum of allowing females into the army.

“It’s time we force Xannirin to listen. To concede to what is right,” I growled, my fingers flexing at my sides. “He has questions to answer. Accountability to take. And I’m fucking tired of his games.”

“Do you think he was behind the assassin?” Kiira asked, sucking in a sharp breath.

“I can’t deny that he has some motive. And his behavior has been suspicious since then. Since arriving, really. But with new information, we can’t wait for him to stop being such a prick. We need to confront him.”

Kiira pressed her lips together but nodded. “The four of us. Assyria needs to be there too.”

My mate wrapped her arms around my cousin. “Thank you.”

Kiira hugged her back. “It is what is right. You have been elevated to our status. You deserve your place among us.”

“Then it’s decided. Tomorrow, we will break down his door if he won’t let us in. We’ll do whatever it takes to learn the truth behind the assassination attempt, to bend him to the future,” I pronounced. Yet even as determination heated my veins, doubt crept in. What would happen if Xannirin dug in his heels? What would I have to do if he was the one who tried to kill my mate?

I’d never feared wielding authority. Leading the army was what I had been born to do. But ruling? Being the Kral? I wanted nothing less.

So when Kiira finally departed, Assyria looped her arms around my torso and squeezed hard. But as I held Assyria close, a word from Kiira’s vision echoed through me.

Sacrifice.

And I couldn’t help but wonder which one of us the Fates would choose.