“Yes. Help yourself.” I shot Kieran a look of warning when he opened his mouth. His lips smashed together in a thin, hard line as his sister snatched up a slice of bacon. I glanced at Emil and then looked back at Vonetta. “How did it go?”
“It went good. I think.” Vonetta dropped into the chair opposite Kieran, nibbling on the bacon. “We spoke to—gods. Hundreds? Maybe even more. Quite a few of them were…” She frowned slightly. “It was like they were ready to hear that someone was doing something about the Ascended. These weren’t like the ones who don’t question the Rite, believing it an honor or whatever. These were people who didn’t want to give their children over to the Rite.”
I couldn’t think of the Rite and not picture the Tulis family, begging the Teermans to speak to gods who still slumbered on their behalf—pleading to keep their last child.
And no matter what had been done for them, the entire family was now dead.
“You were right, by the way. About telling them about you,” she added between bites.
“What I would’ve paid to see their reactions to that news,” Emil mused. “To learn that not only had their Maiden married the dreaded Atlantian Prince but that she was now the Queen of Atlantia and also a god.” A faint smile appeared. “I bet many dropped to their knees and started praying.”
“Some did,” Vonetta reported wryly.
I winced a little. “Really?”
She nodded. “And since they believe the gods are still awake, the news that you joined with Atlantia got a lot of them thinking. Even a few said the gods may no longer support the Ascended.”
The curve of my lips matched hers.
“I suppose we should be grateful that they lied about the gods backing Solis instead of speaking the truth—that the gods had nothing to do with the war and are asleep,” Kieran noted. “With their lies, they set the expectations of the gods changing their alliances.”
I toyed with the ring on my pointer finger. “It wasn’t my idea, though. That was…that was his. He recognized that the lies the Ascended told would ultimately be their downfall.”
“Cas did know that,” Emil confirmed. “But that was before he or any of us knew you were a god. It was your idea to reveal that. Give yourself credit.”
My neck warmed, and I cleared my throat. “Do you think they’ll listen? That they will tell others?”
“I think many will.” Vonetta glanced at her brother and then back at me. “We all know that telling the mortals what we planned was a risk—one we believed was worth it, even if the Ravarels learned of our plans.”
I nodded. “Giving the mortals a chance to leave the city before we take it so they won’t be caught in the middle is worth this dangerous move.”
“Agreed,” she confirmed. “So, some didn’t believe the part about you being a god. They think the evil Atlantians somehow manipulated you,” she said, reaching for the other slice of bacon as Emil leaned in and did the same. He was faster. “Hey, that’s mine.” She shot him a glare. “What are you even doing here?”
“Actually, the bacon is—” Kieran began, and I did kick his leg under the table this time. His head jerked in my direction.
“We can share.” Emil snapped the bacon in two and handed half over to a less-than-grateful Vonetta. “And I’m here because I missed you that much.”
“Whatever,” Vonetta muttered. “Seriously, why are you here?”
Emil grinned, his amber eyes warm as he finished off his half of the slice. “I’m here because someone delivered a missive to the Rise,” he announced, wiping his hands on a napkin. “It’s from the Duke and Duchess Ravarel.”
Every part of me tensed. “And you’re just now sharing this?”
“You had questions about their time in Oak Ambler. Figured I’d let them get answered,” he reasoned. “Plus, Vonetta was hungry, and I know better than to get between a wolven and food.”
Vonetta whipped toward Emil, nearly coming out of her chair. “Are you seriously blaming your inability to prioritize on me?”
“I would never do such a thing.” Emil pulled a slip of folded parchment from the breast pocket of his tunic as he grinned at Vonetta. “And none of that changes the fact that I did miss you.”
Kieran rolled his eyes.
Vonetta opened her mouth and then closed it, sitting back in her chair, and I did what I probably shouldn’t. I opened my senses. What I tasted from Vonetta was spicy and smoky. Attraction. There was also something sweeter underneath.
“I need wine.” She started to lean forward, but Emil was, once again, quicker. As he handed the missive to me, he snagged the bottle of wine and poured her a drink. “Thank you,” she said, taking the glass and swallowing an impressive mouthful. She looked at me. “So, what does it say?”
The thin slip of folded parchment felt as if it weighed as much as a sword. I glanced at Kieran, and when he nodded, I opened it. One sentence was written in red ink—a response we all expected but that still came as a blow.
We agree to nothing.
Chapter 4
“Run, Poppy,” Momma wheezed. “Run.”
She wanted me to leave her, but I couldn’t. I ran. I ran toward her, tears spilling down my cheeks.
“Momma—” Claws caught my hair, scratched my skin, burning me like the time I’d reached for the hot kettle. I screamed, straining for Momma, but I couldn’t see her in the mass of monsters.
They were everywhere, skin dull and gray and broken. And then there was the tall man in black. The one with no face. I twisted, screaming—
Papa’s friend stood in the doorway. I reached for him. He was supposed to help us—help Momma. But he stared at the man in black as he rose above the twisting, feeding creatures. Papa’s friend jerked, stumbling back, his bitter horror filling my mouth, choking me. He backed away, shaking his head and trembling. He was leaving us—
Teeth sank into my skin. Fiery pain ripped through my arm and lit across my face. I fell, trying to shake them off. Red streamed into my eyes. “No. No. No,” I screamed, thrashing. “Momma! Papa!”
Fire sliced through my stomach, seizing my lungs and my body.
Then the monsters were falling, and I couldn’t breathe. The pain. The weight. I wanted my momma. Nothingness slipped over my eyes, and I was lost for a little bit.
A hand touched my cheek, my neck. I blinked through blood and tears.
The Dark One stood above me, his face nothing but shadows beneath the hooded cloak. It wasn’t his hand at my throat but something cold and sharp.
He didn’t move. That hand trembled. He shook as he spoke, but his words faded in and out.
I heard Momma say in a voice that sounded strange and wet, “Do you understand what that means? Please. She must…”
“Good gods,” the man rasped, and then I was floating and drifting, surrounded by the scent of the flowers the Queen liked to have in her bedchambers.
What a powerful little flower you are.
What a powerful poppy.
Pick it and watch it bleed.
Not so—
I jerked awake, my eyes open wide as I scanned the moonlit chamber. I wasn’t there. I wasn’t in the inn. I was here.