My fingers curled into my palms. The center of my chest hummed with power—the eather of the King of Gods. The kind that should’ve been powerful enough to destroy whatever the hell Isbeth believed she was. But I hadn’t been prepared. I hadn’t fought like a god because I did not believe I was one.
But Casteel had, hadn’t he? Did he ever really believe I was a deity?
I exhaled roughly. “She was right.”
Vonetta looked over at me. “Who?”
“The Queen. I am a god,” I stated.
Her brows rose as she glanced over at Emil and Naill. “Um—”
“No. Wait.” Kieran rose, understanding flickering through him. “If what she claimed is true and Malec is one of Nyktos and his Consort’s sons—and you’re their grandchild—you are a god,” he reiterated what I’d just been thinking.
Delano nodded slowly. “It doesn’t matter what in the hell Ileana— Isbeth—is. You are the grandchild of Nyktos—of a Primal God. That is why your bloodline is so potent. You are a god, not a deity.”
“Shit,” Emil muttered, taking another drink before Vonetta snatched the flask from him.
“That’s what Nyktos meant,” I said, swallowing. “I never needed his permission.”
“For what?” Naill asked.
“To use his guards,” I said, knowing that’s what the Handmaiden had meant by the fire of the gods. “To summon the draken.”
Chapter 48
I stalked through the palace halls in Evaemon, the dust from the road and blood still staining my breeches and tunic. I headed for the sun-drenched atrium in the center, followed by Kieran and his sister still in their wolven forms. Naill and Hisa followed, their hands on their swords. Delano was with Tawny, having taken her to one of the rooms above mine. Healers and Elders were being summoned.
Crown Guards bowed stiffly as we passed, the heels of my boots clicking off the tile floor as sharply as the wolven’s claws.
Vonetta was one giant ball of stress. I didn’t know if she was more worried that I would obliterate Casteel’s mother or if it was the plans we’d discussed on the way back to Evaemon. I, on the other hand, was strangely calm. I wasn’t worried about what I was about to say to Eloana or what I would carry out next. I felt only determination and anger, so much anger, it seeped out of my bones and coated my skin, but I was calm. I didn’t know one could feel such wrath and yet feel such silence.
The doors to the family room were open, and the scent of coffee and freshly baked bread stretched out to me, turning my stomach instead of inciting my hunger.
Eloana wasn’t alone.
She sat across from Lord Sven and Lord Gregori. Several Crown Guards stood in the back of the room, but my focus was on her.
His mother looked at me, and then her gaze flicked behind me, searching for what she would not find. And she knew. The moment she didn’t see Casteel, her agony was sharp and pungent. A hand fluttered against her breast as she reached for the empty space beside her, seeming to realize then that her husband wasn’t there.
The two Elders stood hastily. “Your Majesty,” Sven said, bowing. Concern rippled from him as he glanced at the wolven siblings. “Are you okay, Your Majesty?”
No. I wasn’t. I wouldn’t be okay until Casteel was by my side, and the Blood Crown was nothing but a pile of ashes. But my sorrow and fear gave way to anger as I stared at Casteel’s mother. I latched on to it, letting it wrap around the hum in my chest, filling the hollowness of where my heart beat.
And that anger tasted of power and death, a lot like it had when I walked toward Oak Ambler, but I was in control this time.
Barely.
“You knew.” I stared at his mother. “You knew what she was and what she wasn’t.”
Blood drained rapidly from Eloana’s face as she jerked back. “Penellaphe—”
“Where is the King?” Gregori demanded, stepping forward.
The wolven let out a low rumble of warning as my head snapped toward him. Words fell from my lips like poison-dipped daggers. “Where is the King, Your Majesty?” I corrected softly in a tone eerily similar to the one Casteel had used when he was but a second away from relieving someone of their heart.
Gregori stiffened. “Where is the King, Your Majesty,” he repeated, his irritation acid on my tongue and his dislike of me hot against my skin.
My head tilted to the side as everything came to a head. Something happened then, tearing open from deep within. It had rattled with all the lies and then had shaken loose when Casteel had saved my life. It had cracked open when I stood before Nyktos and told him that he would not hurt my friends. The locks that held it back had been blown to pieces when I saw Ian fall and then awoke to find that Casteel had been taken. It was a whole new awakening.
I wasn’t the Maiden.
I wasn’t a Princess or even a Queen.
I was a god.
And I was so over this.
“You don’t like me, do you?” I queried softly.
An icy splash of shock rolled through him, but he quickly masked it. His chin lifted. “I think you know the answer to that.”
“I do. And you know what?” I asked, my skin humming as the air charged around me. A silvery-white glow seeped from my skin, crowding the sides of my vision as Sven inched away from Gregori. “In the entirety of the two kingdoms, I couldn’t give a fuck if you or any other member of the Council likes me. It does not change that I am your Queen, and your tone and the manner in which you address me is highly inappropriate.” I watched pink seep into the man’s cheeks, and I smiled tightly. “Not just because I’m your Queen, but because I am the grandchild of Nyktos, and you speak to a god with such disrespect.”
Eloana sucked in a sharp breath as I let the restless vibration from within the center of my chest come to the surface. Silvery-white light spilled across the room, reflecting off the walls and turning the glass to shimmering diamonds. Sven tripped over the corner of the striped carpet, catching himself on the edge of a chair. The furniture and windows rattled as I took a step forward. Silver dripped from my fingertips, forming webs of iridescent light that fell to the floor, disappearing into the stone, and that beautiful light could give life. It could also take it.
Hisa was the first to move, dropping to a knee, one hand pressed over her heart, the other flattened to the floor. The other guards followed, as did Sven. Gregori remained standing, his eyes wide.
“Try me,” I whispered, and those two words echoed throughout the room.
A tremor coursed through Gregori as he slowly lowered himself to one knee, bowing his head. “I’m sorry,” he uttered, placing a hand to his chest and the other to the floor. “Please forgive me.”
In the hidden, darkest corners of my being, the urge to lash out was a tempting force. To unleash all the sorrow and anger I felt, and let it flay open Gregori’s skin and rip out each bone. I could—with just a thought, a single will. He would be no more, and he would be the last to speak to me in such a way.
Isbeth would do it.
But I wasn’t her.
I reined in the eather, and pulled the power deep within me. The radiance retreated, seeping back into my skin. “Leave,” I ordered the Elder. “Now.”
He rose, stumbling around me and the wolven. I heard Naill’s soft snicker as the Elder rushed past him. My gaze flicked to Sven. “You should leave, too,” I said. “And the guards. Leave.”
Sven nodded, exiting the room with far more grace than his predecessor. A few of the Crown Guards lingered, obviously still loyal to Eloana—or afraid for her. I turned to where I saw that she had lowered herself to the floor.
I fought a cruel smile, stopping it from reaching my lips as she looked up at me. “I do not believe you want many to hear what I have to say.”
The skin around the corners of her eyes puckered as she closed them. “Listen to your Queen,” she whispered hoarsely. “Leave.”
Vonetta and Kieran tracked the guards’ progress. It wasn’t until Naill and Hisa had
closed the door that I said, “You may rise.”
Eloana rose, collapsing onto the settee, her glistening amber eyes fixed on me as I strode forward, gripping the back of a chair. The legs scraped against the floor as I dragged it so it was before her.
Slowly, I lowered myself to the chair, my eyes meeting hers as Kieran and Vonetta moved so they crouched on either side of me. Naill and Hisa remained at the door. “Ask me whose blood stains my clothing.”
Eloana’s lips trembled. “Whose blood—?” Her voice cracked as she glanced at the wolven. “Whose blood stains your clothing?”
“My brother’s.” I flattened my palms against my knees. “He was slaughtered when I refused to join the Blood Crown, uniting the kingdoms under the sovereignty of Solis. He didn’t even see it coming. They cut his head from his shoulders, and he did nothing to deserve that. Nothing. She did it because she could.” My fingers curled into my knees, where the material was stiff with dried blood. “Now ask me where your son is.”
Her eyes started to close—
“No.” I tipped forward. “Don’t you dare close your eyes. I didn’t when I watched a sword slice through my brother’s throat. Don’t you dare close your eyes. You’re stronger than that.”
Her chest rose with a heavy breath as her eyes remained open. “Where is my son?”
“She took him,” I forced out, the words cutting into my skin. “And you know why? You know exactly why she wanted your sons. It’s not just to make more Ascended. It’s personal.”
Her lips moved, but no sound came out.
“You knew. This whole time. You knew who Queen Ileana really was.” Rage heated my blood, sparked off my skin. She leaned back an inch. “You knew she was Isbeth and that she was never a vampry.”
“I…”
“Malec gave her his blood when you poisoned her.” I reclaimed what distance she’d gathered. “He couldn’t make a vampry with his blood. Isbeth was never the first Ascended.”
“I didn’t know that at first,” Eloana spoke. “I swear to you. I had no idea that she wasn’t a vampry. She had black eyes just like the others that were made after her—”
“Because her eyes are black but not like the Ascended,” I interrupted. “They’ve always been black.”
“I didn’t know,” she repeated, one of her hands curling into a fist. “I didn’t know until I found Malec and entombed him. That is when I learned that Isbeth had never been a vampry, that she had Ascended into something else—”
“Something like him,” I cut her off, not even truly caring if she spoke the truth at this point. “When you learned the truth doesn’t matter. What does is that you knew Ileana was Isbeth, and you didn’t tell us. You didn’t prepare us for the fact that we weren’t dealing with a vampry but with something far more powerful than that. That is why your son is not with me.”
“I…” She shook her head, her features beginning to crumble. “Is my son alive?”
“Which one?”
Her eyes widened. “W-what do you mean?”
“Are you asking about Malik or Casteel?” I said. “Malik is alive. He’s actually doing just fine, all cozied up with Isbeth.”
She didn’t move. I didn’t think she even breathed. I could’ve broken the news to her in a far kinder way, but she could’ve also told us the whole truth.
“No,” she whispered.
“Yes.” I nodded as Isbeth’s voice haunted my thoughts. “It was him who retrieved Casteel.”
A tear fell from her eye, streaking across her cheek. “Is Casteel alive?”
I lifted my left hand, showing her the glimmering marriage imprint. “He is.” I swallowed hard. “But I’m sure you understand that means very little at this point.”
She shuddered, and I didn’t know if it was from relief or fear. A long moment passed. “Oh, gods,” she whispered on a ragged breath, closing her hands over her face. Her shoulders shook.
Forcing myself to sit back, I waited until she’d pulled herself together…and she did, just like I knew she would. It took a couple of minutes, but her shoulders stilled, and her hands lowered. Puffy, glassy eyes stared out from behind tear-soaked lashes. “It’s my fault.”
“No shit,” I snapped. At least, partially, it was. Because I…I had lost control. I’d given Isbeth the opening she needed.
She flinched. “I…I didn’t want people to know she’d won.”
I stilled. Everything in me stilled. “What?”
“It was…it was my ego. There’s no other way for me to say it. I loved Malec once upon a time. I thought the moon and sun set and rose with him. And she wasn’t like the other women. She sank her claws into him, and I knew…I knew he loved her—loved her more than he loved me. I didn’t want people to know that in the end, even with Malec entombed, she didn’t just win, she became a Queen,” she admitted hoarsely. “Became the Crown that forced us to remain behind the Skotos Mountains, used our people to make monsters, and took—took my children. I didn’t want Casteel to know that the same woman who’d taken my first husband was who’d held him and then his brother. She won in the end, and…she’s still managing to tear my family and kingdom apart.”
Now I was the one struck speechless.
“I was embarrassed,” she continued. “And I didn’t…I know it’s no excuse. It just became something that was never spoken. A lie that became a reality after hundreds of years. Only Valyn and Alastir knew the truth.”
Alastir.
Of course.
“And their son?” I said. “What did you do with Isbeth and Malec’s son? Did you have him killed? Was it Alastir who carried it out?”
Pressing her lips together, she looked up at the ceiling. “Alastir did. He knew of the child before I even did. Valyn doesn’t know about the child at all.”
I stared at her. “Is that why you didn’t want to go to war? Because doing so would mean that Ileana’s real identity would be revealed, along with everything else?”
“Partly,” she admitted as she wiped the heels of her hands under her eyes. “But also because I didn’t want to see more Atlantians and mortals die.” She lowered trembling hands. “Malik is…is well and—” She cleared her throat. “He’s with her?”
“He appeared well, and he supports the Blood Crown. That is all I know,” I told her, sinking farther into the chair. I didn’t know how much of what she said was the truth now, but I did know that the agony I felt from her hadn’t just been sorrow. I recognized that the agony was partly shame now, something she’d carried for hundreds of years and would continue to shoulder. To be honest, I didn’t know what I would’ve done if I had been in her place. The war between her and Isbeth had started long before the first vampry had been created, and it’d never ended. “Malec wasn’t a deity.”
“I…I can see that.” She sniffed. “I mean, I saw that when you showed Gregori what you were. But I don’t understand. Malec —”
“He lied to you,” I said, spreading my hands along the arms of the chair. “I don’t know why, but he is one of Nyktos’s sons. He’s a god.”
Her surprise couldn’t be fabricated, and it cooled some of my anger. “I didn’t know—”
“I know.” I curled my fingers around the edges of the arms. “Malec confided in Isbeth. She knew.”
Eloana flinched as she let out a low whistle. “That stings more than it should.”
“Maybe you never stopped loving Malec.”
“Maybe,” she whispered, staring at her lap now. “I love Valyn. I love him dearly and fiercely. I also loved Malec, even though I don’t think I…knew anything about him. But I think Malec will always own a part of my heart.”
And the part owned by Malec would always belong to him, and that was…that was just sad.
“Isbeth is my mother,” I told her, and her eyes shot to mine. “I’m the daughter of her and Malec. And I married your son.”
She paled once more.
“It was a part of her plan,” I continued as Vonetta leaned into my
leg. “That I would marry Malik and take Atlantia. With my bloodline and a Prince at my side, there would be absolutely nothing that could be done. But in a twist of fate, I married Casteel instead.”
“Her plan worked, then,” she rasped.
“No, it hasn’t,” I replied. “I will not take Atlantia in her name.”
“She has Malik and Casteel,” she countered, her tone hardening. “How has she not won?”
“She won’t kill them. Malik is helping her, and she can use Casteel against me like she used your sons against Atlantia,” I told her.
Her lips thinned. “I still don’t see how she hasn’t won.”
“Because I’m not you.” I noted the faint wince, and I didn’t even want to feel bad for inflicting it. “I have been used my entire life in one way or another, and I will not be used again. I know what I am now. I know what it means to have had the power in me this whole time. My brother’s death wasn’t in vain. Neither was Lyra’s. I understand now.”
Eloana’s brows puckered. “What are you saying?”
“I can summon Nyktos’s guards, and I will. Isbeth may have her Revenants, her knights, soldiers, and those who support her.” My grip tightened. “But I will have the draken.”
Visibly shaken, it took Eloana a few moments to respond. “Can you even—? I’m sorry. You can. You are a god.” She smoothed a hand over her gown, a nervous habit, I realized. “But are you sure? The draken are a fierce bloodline. There is a reason they went to sleep with Nyktos. Only he can control them.”
“I am his grandchild,” I reasoned, but I really had no idea how the draken would respond. I could only assume that what Nyktos had said also meant that they’d do so favorably. “And I don’t seek to control them. I just need their help.”
Understanding flickered through her. “I thought you and Casteel wanted to prevent war. You won’t once the draken are awakened.”
“By holding Casteel, she thinks she can stay my hand. But, sometimes, war cannot be prevented,” I said, echoing her words—ones I knew the Consort had whispered to me before when I first entered Saion’s Cove.
The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood And Ash Series Book 3) Page 63