“I’m sorry I blew up on you.”

“I know.”

He laces his fingers on my shoulder, pulling me close. “I don’t know how to be a king.”

“I know that too. At least, I know you don’t know how to be your father. But Evander, that isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

He stiffens uncomfortably, and I have to move his face closer to mine to get him to look at me.

“What is it?” I ask.

“He said he was proud of me before he died. Well, technically he didn’t even say that. But he said Jerad would have been proud, and coming from him, that was basically like saying he didn’t wish I’d been the one to fall off that ravine.”

I frown, letting out a deep exhale.

“It would have been nice of him not to leave me on such a confusing note,” says Evander, shrugging.

“Well, your father did like surprises,” I say, slumping back on the bed next to him.

“Hm,” Evander says, pensive. “Remember me telling you about the shadow siren Kiran, Blaise, and I ran into in Mystral?”

I raise my brow. “No, the creature who got into Kiran’s head and almost convinced him to yank out Blaise’s heart slipped my mind.”

Evander chuckles, but there’s no life in his laugh. “Well, it wasn’t just Kiran’s head she got into.”

I nod, remembering Evander telling me that the shadow siren had offered to bring his brother back. “But you didn’t fall for her tricks.”

Evander’s cheeks drain of the little color left in them. “You know what tipped me off that it wasn’t real?”

I take my husband’s hand, and he strokes it absentmindedly.

“She came to me in the form of my father. Pretended to be him, then begged me to kill Blaise to bring Jerad back. I was tempted, too. But you know what the siren did that tipped me off? You know what her mistake was?”

My heart thuds, aching in my chest for my husband.

“‘I love you, son’—that’s what the vision of my father said. And I knew then it wasn’t real.”

Silence blankets the room for a moment, and I don’t know what to say, so I do all I know to do, and sit in the pain with my husband.

“Do you regret it?” Evander finally asks.

“Regret what?”

“Putting the crown on my head?”

I snap my neck to stare at him. “Why? Are you planning on making me regret it?”

And then, blessedly, the smallest of laughs escapes my husband’s mouth. “That prospect is too terrifying to consider.”

Evander pulls me into him and kisses me as if our perfect little world hasn’t just shattered to pieces.

CHAPTER 76

PIPER

I probably should hate Blaise a tad more than I do.

I probably shouldn’t like her, either, but what can I do? Hate her for opening the Rip to bring back her kind-of-dead suitor?

That feels a little hypocritical, given I prefer others overlook the fact that I used to kidnap children for a living.

Besides, the girl is so clearly lost. And that’s a feeling I recognize. I know what it’s like to swim in an ocean of your own guilt, the hatred of others acting as waves crashing above your head. Your own self-talk—the current trying to pull you under.

So I decide not to feel too terrible about not hating Blaise. She’s told me her story now, and though I wasn’t born yesterday and know better than to assume she hasn’t omitted any important information, I believe what she has revealed is probably the truth.

No one paints their own actions in such a horrible light unless it’s true.

As we make our way through the forest, my heart longs for Marcus and Amity. I want nothing more than to go after them, to ensure they’re safe. But if things continue to go as Blaise fears they will, I’m not sure my family will ever find safety.

It feels like my soul is being rent in two, feels like I’m abandoning them.

But logic reminds me this is just a fear response. That the idea of searching them out only feels safer. If I ever want the people I love to find peace, Az has to be stopped.

I just have to pray Amity finds a way to keep Marcus alive.

“So, does it talk to you?” she asks, seemingly out of nowhere as we pace through the words.

“Does what talk to me?”

“Your magic.”

“My Gift?”

Blaise snorts. “I suppose, if that’s what you want to call it.”

I furrow my brow. “No. Is it supposed to?”

Blaise shrugs. “Asha’s does. Mine—the parasite, I mean—never did. Not while it was inside my head, at least. When it took over my body, then it talked. But I think that had more to do with it being cursed to only be active during the full moon.”

“Oh.” I consider whether I’ve ever heard any voices. “It hums to me sometimes, sings to me. But only when I’m really emotional.” I think back to the time I’d been intending to slip my blade between my ribs. I shudder, remembering the gentle tune that had carried me off to slumber before I could end my life.

“Good to know I wasn’t the only one with a creepy magic,” Blaise says when I relay the story.

I frown, Blaise’s words bothering me for some reason. “No. It’s not creepy. My Gift did it to save my life.”

Something like disappointment flashes over Blaise’s face, but she schools it quickly enough. “I wonder why yours doesn’t talk. Asha’s didn’t talk to her for years, until it deemed it necessary. Maybe yours can speak, it just chooses not to. Or maybe it’s cursed like the parasite was.”

Something wriggles inside my chest, like a hammer bumping over a set of chimes.