She kicks, her eyes rolling back.
I stop her heart.
Then I start it again. For fun.
“Stop.” A voice not unlike my own whispers. “This isn’t you. Please, stop.”
I step back, the blackness rewinding, spooling itself inside me. Cecile falls to the floor, her breath coming in great gulps.
I blink hard. “I’m so sorry.” I kneel next to her and help her to her feet. “I don’t know what that was.”
She backs away. “You’re a necromancer. Evil. Unseelie.”
“No, I’m your sister.” I step closer. “Please, I’m not bad.”
“Stay back.” She holds one hand out to ward me off.
“Cecile, please.” I move closer. “It’s me. You know me. I wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
“Are you back to normal?” She relaxes a little.
Gullible fool.
Normal. The word is so ridiculous. Was the weak version of me ‘normal’? That pathetic Taylor who had to wear the soulstone to keep me repressed? She was a bad joke. It’s a good thing my mother is with the Ancestors, because I would kill her for what she’s done to me. Forcing me to remain locked in a silent, black cage inside a wretched changeling version of myself.
I turn back to Cecile. “Yes, I’m back to normal.” I reach down and grab her pet’s hand, crushing it in mine.
Cecile flies at me. I wrap her in death again, holding her off the floor as she struggles.
Her anger is laughable.
“Don’t worry.” I grin. “I can bring your human pet back. She’ll just be a little … different.” I delight in Cecile’s horrified scream as I send death twisting through her human.
“Daughter.” My father kisses my cheek as I enter the bedroom he’s had prepared for me. “I hope everything is to your liking.”
“It will do.” I peer at the rack of clothes along the back wall. Mostly black items, and the shirts have clever notches in the back for my wings. Good.
I can smell everything—the leather from the pants, the mold on the rocks, the semi-fresh linens on the bed. So many sounds form the background of this place that I could go mad if I don’t learn how to block them out. The groans from the undead are particularly unappealing.
“When do we march for Byrn Varyndr? I have a few scores to settle there.” I pull a black shirt from the rack and a pair of black leather pants. “I want to bathe in Aurentia’s blood. Is that too dark? Because I think it would be delightful.”
“Perfectly dark.” He smiles, his fangs lengthening. “You make me so proud.”
I roll my eyes and strip out of my dress.
He doesn’t look away. I don’t care. I pull on the pants, then drop the shirt over my head. The slits go around my wings, and I’m able to fasten it with a tie at my waist. I wonder if I can really fly with these things. I suppose I’ll find out soon enough. “Fly to Leander. He can help.”
“Did you hear that?” I glance around the sparsely-furnished room.
“What?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head and strap my blade to my belt.
Shathinor strides to me and dangles a small pendant from his fingers. “I have a gift for you.”
I arch a brow. “Another necklace. No, thank you.”
“This one is special.” He guides me to the mirror above a dressing table.
I suck in a breath when I see my reflection. My eyes are the same, but my skin is paler, my ears pointier than I imagined, my hair somehow darker. Not to mention the fangs and the wings. But I’m still me, right? I pause for a second and stare into my eyes. Who are you? I blink hard and try to place how I got here. Cenet, right? Cenet brought me here. I remember it all—but it’s like it happened to someone else. Not me. To someone weak and foolish and silly. I’m none of those things. So why does this all feel wrong somehow? Like I’m forcing a puzzle piece in the wrong spot.
I shake my head and square my shoulders. Nothing’s wrong. I want to be here. The other woman, the one whose memories I have, was an embarrassment. I’m not her. I’m something better. And I will rule this world and crush any who stand in my way.
The mark at my shoulder catches my eye. My mate. A hint of a smile creeps across my crimson lips when I think of him.
“The traitor marked you with a vengeance.” Shathinor scowls. “The Ancestors are cruel to do such a thing, but there it is. He deserves a death so gruesome that it’s whispered of for thousands of years. Instead, he takes even more from me.”
“I won’t kill him. Not for you.” I can still feel him inside me, the way his body moved, the bite that sealed our mating. My fangs lengthen. I look forward to fucking him upon our next meeting, even if it’s on a bloody battlefield.
“Mate bonds are ancient magic. They can’t be broken, not without the greatest sacrifice.” He taps his shirt where his rotted heart still beats. “I could have been whole. But I chose to salt the ground in the winter realm, destroy future mating bonds, starve them of children until I could return triumphant.”
“Vicious.” I hold his gaze in the mirror. “I’m impressed.”
“Not as much as I am. You are a true beauty. Not unlike your mother was, though you are so much more than she could ever be.” He gestures for me to lift my hair. “You were foretold long ago. Your wings of death and your power to destroy the realms.”
“Tell me the rest of the prophecy.”
“You don’t know it?”
“The Vundi witch didn’t finish it before she was killed.”
“Very well. ‘A child of many worlds, clothed in light, will come home. On wings of death, the child will glide to sit on her throne of bone. The realms will bend to her command, she has but to choose. She alone can start the war and be victorious, win or lose.’”
“That doesn’t entirely make sense.”
“Prophecies never do.” He clucks his tongue and holds the necklace up for me. “But it gives us enough. You are the spark we need to start the war, to end the summer realm and take winter back.”
I lick my lips. “The summer realm will fall. They thought they could break me. My waves of death will roll over them like an unrelenting ocean.” I pull my hair up and he drapes the necklace around my throat. It’s a simple golden vial with what looks like blood inside. “What is it?”
He centers the pendant for me, his cold fingers sending ugly prickles along my skin. “A phylactery.”
I stare at him blankly.
“It contains a small bit of my essence. Something of me that you can keep with you always.” He squeezes my shoulders. “Do you like it?”
For an evil king, my father sure is turning out to be a pussy. I wonder how long it will take me to overthrow him. A day? Maybe two? Or maybe I should keep him around just long enough to take the realms, and then dethrone him in front of an audience. Taking his head will certainly set the tone for my reign. I force a smile.
It’s enough to get one in return from him. “Now, how would you like a flying lesson as we discuss our battle plans?”
“I need lessons?” I scoff.
“I suppose we’ll find out.” He opens the door for me. “Flying is critical, and of course we’ll need to practice reanimation and a few other tricks.”