LOGINEMBER’S POVThe food is served alongside some wine.Silas sits across from us, nursing a glass of amber liquid. He looks exhausted, but his eyes soften when they land on me.“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, picking at the food on my plate. “For my mother. For how she spoke to you.”“Nonsense,” Silas snorts, waving a hand. “Do not apologise for Devika. I grew up with her, remember? I knew the monster before she even grew teeth.” He takes a sip of his drink, intentionally lightening the air. “Though I must say, seeing my niece sitting here with the Lycan King… our ancestors are violently rolling in their graves right now. Spinning, really.”Knox pauses, his spoon halfway to his mouth. He takes a bite, chews slowly, and arches a dark brow at my uncle.“The stew is actually decent. I was almost certain you had poisoned it.”“I considered it,” Silas deadpans. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, suddenly slipping right into the role of a protective, interrogating father. “Which br
EMBER’S POVHis jaw works, and then he nods.The scale glows and reaches into me, and I feel it lift the whole rot of Gale out — years of terror and grinding and a white hospital ceiling, flashes after flashes, of violence and blood and cruel words and down to the sex with Logan — and then there’s a smooth blank place where he lived, and I know only, the way you know a fact about a stranger, that I was married once, and it was bad, and I left.The details of it are gone. And it doesn’t hurt at all.The light of the scale dies down, and I am heaving, chest heaving and confused.What did I give away?It’s hard to dwell on, because Devika’s wound is still crushing.“And you, King,” Silas says.Knox is quiet. Then, he says softly:“My father. Everything he was. Everything he did to my mother, to me, to this life. The night he nearly killed her, and every night before it, and every day since I’ve spent carrying the fear that I’m made of the same thing.” His face is stone. “I’ve let that ma
EMBER’S POVSilas is quiet for a long beat.“…As you wish, sister.”The scale flares. The cold, buzzing light reaches across the table and sinks into her.And I have to sit there, choking on my own tears, and watch my mother die without her heart ever stopping.I watch the light pull it out of her. I watch the deep, ancient grief drain out of her features drop by drop.I watch the tension that has lived in her jaw for years smooth out into nothing.I watch her weep for a thing she is no longer allowed to remember, until the tears on her face are just water on a stranger’s cheeks, meaning nothing at all.The light snuffs out.The room plunges back into silence.Devika blinks. Her spine straightens slightly, the posture of a wealthy woman who has just awoken from a nap in a strange room.She looks around the blood-stained room with mild, detached puzzlement.Then, she reaches up and touches her face. Her fingers come away wet.“…How odd,” she murmurs to herself, her voice perfectly ligh
EMBER’S POVDevika freezes. Her hands drop from her wet face.For a long, terrible moment, she just stares at me. And then, right in front of my eyes, the ice finally cracks. The monster dies.Twenty-six years of survival comes crashing down, and the woman under it caves in.“Because that’s what he called me,” she whispers. It is the softest, most broken sound I have ever heard her make. “Rhovan. When it was just the two of us, in the dark. When I was the only thing in the world he wanted. He’d take my face in his hands and he’d call me his spark in the dark. His ember. The little fire that kept catching no matter how the world tried to put it out.”Devika reaches across the black table.Her hand is trembling violently, her knuckles white. And when her cold, shaking fingers gently cup my wet cheek, the breath violently leaves my lungs.It is the first time in my entire life my mother has touched me with tenderness.I let out a wounded, suffocated noise and lean into her palm. She smel
EMBER’S POV“So yes,” I say aloud, and Silas looks up, because he doesn’t know what I’m answering. But Knox does. Knox’s eyes find mine, and hold. “You asked if it’s worth it. Worth the war. Worth the carnage. Worth conquering a god.” I don’t look away from Knox. “Yes. He’s worth all of it. He’s worth every single bit of it, and more than I have to give.”Silas frowns, slow, and looks between the two of us, and something in his scarred face closes like he’s understood more than I said.“Goddess help you both,” Silas mutters, and then he pushes himself up out of his chair. “But wishes don’t open my doors. The house has delivered on its promise. It’s time to settle what’s owed. The toll you paid earlier was just to drag the truth out of my sister. But walking out of this mountain with that truth is another matter entirely. The Slaughterhouse does not let anyone keep what they came for for free. That’s the last law of this place. If you try to cross that threshold without paying, the hou
EMBER’S POV“No.”It’s out of me before she finishes.“No. Absolutely not.” I’m shaking my head, my stomach turning at the thought. “I want nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with that man. You’ve described him to me for the last hour, Mother. He’s a snake who betrayed the woman who loved him, who tried to force you to kill me, who handed you to a hunt to save his own skin. He might be no different from you.” The words are gut-punching, and I don’t take them back. “You want me to walk into the East and shake hands with my monster of a father to murder a woman? I won’t. I won’t take a life, and I especially won’t take hers.” I meet the whole table. “Because here’s the thing none of you wants to say plainly. Isolde isn’t wrong. Not really. Her wolf was stolen from her line. Her crown is sleeping in me. If someone took my family’s whole legacy and hid it in a stranger’s child, I’d hunt it too. She’s cruel, and she’s dangerous, and she wants me dead — but she’s not wrong to see me as a th







