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Synopsis
Don't miss the highly anticipated final installment of the steamy romantasy series everyone on BookTok is talking about!
After Lor makes the biggest mistake of her life, she finds herself on the run from the Aurora King and decides it's time to end this, once and for all. But when a new enemy emerges to claim her freedom, the entire fate of Ouranos comes to rest on her shoulders.
As the land continues to rebel, Lor must admit she is the key to saving the continent, whether she likes it or not. To fight for Nadir, she must lie, steal, and do whatever it takes to hunt down the remaining arks. Growing more and more desperate, she worries her actions are turning her into something she doesn't recognize, dooming her to repeat her grandmother's mistakes.
When the Aurora King finally comes for her, Lor ventures into the Underworld's shadowy depths, where, once again, she finds herself at the heart of another deadly test. Only this time, she’s competing for everyone's future, not just a crown.
The only thing Lor ever wanted was to be free, but she may soon find she was always destined for a cage.
Release date: November 26, 2024
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Print pages: 448
* BingeBooks earns revenue from qualifying purchases as an Amazon Associate as well as from other retail partners.
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Tale of the Heart Queen
Nisha J. Tuli
My heart lives outside of my body now, bleeding out on the hard-packed earth where I kneel on the unforgiving ground.
Sobbing, I cling to Nadir, pressing my ear to his chest, willing his heart to beat. It remains silent and inert, like wood charred by wildfires, drained of life and slowly crackling to ash.
My ribbons of my dense crimson magic pump through his limbs, grasping at nothing but the yawning emptiness in his chest. It’s no use. My grip slips and stutters, and I struggle to cling to the shreds of his spirit draining into the soil.
If I keep pushing myself, I risk losing control of my healing magic and sliding into the electric threads of my lightning, causing even more damage.
It’s hard to believe I could make this any worse.
I scream. I cry. I let every tear fall. I plead to the skies. I beg the goddess to save him. I bargain with the heavens. I offer up my soul in exchange for his life. I will do anything.
My vision blurs at the corners, and my stomach roils, bile basting the back of my throat. Sweat beads on my forehead as my surroundings tilt on an axis. My cries vibrate through every nerve, assaulting my ears and the tiny hairs covering my arms and the back of my neck. My skin hurts. My hair hurts. The pain in my chest feels like I’m being manipulated by giant hands, twisting my body at opposite angles until I’m nearly torn in half.
Distantly, my mind registers that Rion and his army are still close. Though we’re hidden from view, I need to stay aware. Soon enough, they’ll wake up under my dome of lightning unless I managed to kill them too. But something tells me it won’t be that easy to finally rid myself of the Aurora King.
He has the ark of Heart in his possession. Until a few days ago, I’d never heard of it, but it belongs to me. And I want it back. Something tells me I need it back.
I recall the way it looked as it landed in my outstretched hands. What the Empyrium shared with me in the Evanescence. Virulence. That black glittering stone I looked upon so many times when I stared at the Aurora Keep from the Hollow, vowing to tear it apart.
Are the arks made of the same substance?
The memory of Rion’s choking black magic filters into my turbulent thoughts. What shadowed power flows in his veins? What forces has the Aurora King been toying with? Is that what all of this has been about?
The Lord of the Underworld was the first Aurora King of the Second Age. He used virulence to attempt to destroy Zerra, and now Rion has his hands on the ark of Heart. Does he intend to destroy me with it? But why? Or am I only a step on a ladder to some other purpose?
Does Rion know that he sleeps in a bed surrounded by dark magic?
Could virulence bring Nadir back? I’d crawl into the very heart of the Beltza Mountains on my hands and knees if that’s what it took.
“Nadir,” I sob into him, soaking his shirt with my snot and tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
I did this. I was reckless and impulsive, failing to consider who might be close when I unleashed. Rion and his guards had to pay for touching me again.
Thank you for telling me where she would be.
Rion’s words come back to me with the diamond-hard clarity of honed steel.
But I refuse to believe them. If Nadir gave me up, he had a reason. He had no choice. He would never have done so willingly. After everything we’ve been through, I have to believe that. I handed him my trust, and I refuse to waver at the first test.
I fist the fabric of Nadir’s tunic as I wail, wondering how I’m supposed to go on. How can I possibly exist without him?
My magic fizzes under my skin, pulling towards him like fingers seeking a drop of moisture in a desert. It’s that same formidable tug I always felt before we finally admitted who we were to one another. Does it feel his loss, too?
No one’s heart has broken into as many pieces as mine. No number exists high enough to count these shards pushing under my skin. I am bereft. Tossed in the waves of a sea with no bottom where I’ll sink and sink for eternity.
My mate. I killed my mate.
“Help!” I scream as though anyone could make this stop being real. My stomach lurches, and my pulse pounds inside my skull, chipping away at its brittle walls. “Take me too,” I whisper. I can’t go on knowing I did this to him.
My heart lives outside of me now, exposed and raw for the world to witness the monster I’ve become.
I cry, and I cry until my soul melts out of my chest and my limbs drain of every emotion and feeling, leaving me numb and hollow and broken.
“Oh, do stop your blubbering,” comes a sharp voice, shocking me into choked silence. My head snaps up to find we’re no longer in the forest where I dragged Nadir. “It’s so very… phlegmy.”
We’re in a massive round room, the floor made of a shiny material that might be marble, except it’s one continuous slab with no discernible breaks. Windows surround us, filtering in soft white light that seems to almost hum. I feel it more than I hear it with the barest vibration in the backs of my teeth.
Though this isn’t the same room where I met the Empyrium, premonition tells me I’m back in the Evanescence, but I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
Given my luck lately, it’s probably a terrible fucking thing.
Before me stands a woman wearing a silvery dress that dusts the floor in light, airy folds. Her bronzed arms are bare, and her blonde hair curls almost to her waist, crowned with a silver circlet framing her lovely, heart-shaped face. A pair of piercing aquamarine eyes stare down at me with cool detachment.
She seems familiar, and it takes me a moment to place her. She’s the former Aphelion queen who failed to help her people and was “volunteered” to become a god.
“Zerra,” I whisper, and she tips her head, looking down at me like I’m dung smeared on the heel of her shoe.
“You called me.” She gracefully spreads her arms with her palms turned up. “So here I am.”
I search my surroundings for the Empyrium and their strange shifting body of many people, but there appears to be only the three of us in the room.
“This is the male you’re so attached to,” Zerra says with a sniff as she elegantly sinks to her heels and assesses him from head to toe. It takes a moment to process those words. Does she know who I am? Who Nadir is?
I reach out and grab her slender wrist. She feels as delicate as a bird, but the air around her is perfumed with the stench of chaos, and I would do well not to underestimate her.
“Can you help him?” I ask as she snatches it away.
She’s a god. Surely if anyone can fix this, then it’s her.
“Please. I screwed up. I lost control of my magic, and I…”
Zerra’s nostrils flare before she pushes herself to stand and takes two careful steps back, putting distance between us.
“I can help him,” she says matter-of-factly, as though she hasn’t just offered me a lifeline woven of glittering golden thread.
“Thank you,” I say, prepared to lay down my own life or whatever else she demands. “Please. I’ll do anything if you can help him.”
Zerra’s mouth twists up into a smile that sets me on edge.
“Yes. That you will, Lor.”
I blink, again noting the ominous bite of her beauty and waiting for whatever condition she’s about to attach to my future. Our future. I squeeze Nadir, hoping he knows I’m doing everything I can to fix this.
“What?” I finally ask while she continues staring at me with that same haughty look. “He’s not breathing. Hurry up. What do you want?”
She waves a hand. “Don’t worry. As long as he’s with me, he’s in a suspended state. He’ll be fine once I choose to revive him. It will be like you never killed him at all.”
Those words loosen the bolt screwed inside my chest, but it can’t be that easy. I’m confident I have many bridges yet to cross before this is over. I cling to him tighter, feeling how cold he’s grown already and how the color has leached from his skin. I run a thumb over the arch of his dark brow, my fingers caressing his cheek as my eyes burn with tears. When I look back at Zerra, she’s watching us, a crease denting the space between her brilliant blue eyes.
“What will make you choose to revive him?” I ask, gritting my teeth with impatience.
She clasps her hands at her waist and slowly paces a few steps left and then right before turning back. With my heart wedged in my throat, I clamp down on the urge to scream at her to hurry the fuck up.
“The arks,” she says after a few moments as a few pieces shift into place.
“The arks. Cloris Payne told us about them.”
“High Priestess Cloris,” she says. “You will respect her position and address her as is her station.”
I roll my neck because otherwise I’ll roll my eyes. I’ll respect Cloris fucking Payne when pigs grow unicorn horns.
“Fine. High Priestess Cloris told me.”
Zerra tips her chin as if that pleases her. But only a little. Her entire demeanor speaks to something that resembles a mortal-shaped sneer. This is the goddess who controls our lives? This small, petty woman?
“I don’t have the ark of Heart if that’s what you’re after.”
“All in due time,” she says.
I’m choosing not to think too hard about what that means, because for now, Nadir is the only thing that matters.
“The Alluvion King has an ark in his possession,” Zerra says.
I sigh, feeling pressure build in my temples, already knowing where this is going.
“I want you to retrieve it for me,” she says.
“Of course you do. And then you’ll bring him back?”
She presses her lips together and nods.
“Then I’ll bring him back.”
“What if I can’t find it?”
She wrinkles her nose and tips her head in a smooth feline movement. “Then your mate will die.”
At those words, my chest squeezes like my ribs are tied together with thick iron chains.
“Bring him back now,” I plead. “He can help me find it. And if we can’t, we’ll find another way to repay you. You have my word.”
Zerra paces a few more steps in the other direction, taking her time. I get the sense she wants to make me squirm, and I do my best to control my temper. She’s the only hope I have right now, and I have to remain on her good side.
If she has one.
Just from this single interaction and my brief window into her past, I suspect the good side of this High Fae queen-turned-goddess was set on fire and burned to ash a long time ago.
“No,” she says. “I don’t care for that idea.”
“But Nadir knows more about the rulers and their kingdoms than I do,” I say. “He’ll be a much better asset in aiding me. I’ll find it much quicker.”
I try modulating my voice into something that resembles confidence when my insides are liquefying into a raw pool of regret.
“And have you two plotting against me?” she asks. My forehead furrows as I think about the last thing the Empyrium said to me. They want to replace Zerra… and that’s when their final words come barreling back with the force of a tidal wave.
A queen without a queendom.
They want me for the job. I think.
Does Zerra know that? Am I now a threat to her?
Suspicion burns up the back of my neck. What are the odds Zerra found me only moments later? Surely the Empyrium wouldn’t have told her? And if they did, why?
I shake my head, pretending I have no clue. “I don’t know what that means. Why would we plot against you?”
I don’t want this role. It’s the last thing I want, just like the original rulers who also refused this fate. They wanted to return home and help their people recover from the disasters plaguing their lands. That’s what I want. I want to return to Heart and take my place where I’m sure I belong.
I ignore the tiny, chastising voice in my head telling me that maybe that has never actually been my destiny, even if it’s what I want.
But one problem at a time, I guess.
Should I tell her I don’t intend to replace her? Would she believe me? What if she doesn’t know about any of this, and I’d just be revealing everything to her?
“We wouldn’t do that,” I say. “I don’t even know how we’d do that.”
She makes a noise that suggests she doesn’t believe me.
“These are my conditions. You will travel to Alluvion, ingratiate yourself with Cyan, and find out where his ark is hiding.”
“That’s it?” I ask, hope spiraling in my chest. That I can do.
“No, that’s not it,” she bites out like I’m literally the stupidest person she’s ever met. “Then you’re going to steal it for me.”
I hold in another weary sigh that threatens to topple this entire room. Everyone wants something from me. Rion. Atlas. Cloris. And now… this goddess who seems like kind of a bitch. But worse than that, she seems dangerous. A knifepoint dangling over my head.
“And then you’ll bring Nadir back to life?”
“Yes,” she says. “Decide. I grow weary of this conversation. I can just as easily let him die right now. It truly doesn’t matter to me.”
She says the words casually, but they taste like a lie.
The Empyrium described the great lengths she went to retrieve the arks in the past. She wouldn’t have done any of that if they didn’t matter. She tore apart Ouranos trying to root them out, and now she intends to search for them again.
Why does she think I’ll succeed where her priestesses failed? Why is she asking me? Did she see an opportunity when I called for her, knowing she could use Nadir as leverage? Or is all of this a coincidence?
Does any of it matter right now when his life is on the line?
“Where will Nadir be while I’m in Alluvion?”
“Right here with me,” Zerra says. “Were you expecting a parade for him?”
The bitter taste of anger flashes in the back of my throat. “I just need to know he’ll be safe.”
She rolls her eyes. “You really don’t have much choice, dear Lor. Either accept my offer or I’ll send you back to Ouranos, and you can see how you manage on your own. But he’ll be gone. Understand that.”
I could be walking into her trap if she does know of the Empyrium’s plans, and I have no idea if she’ll keep her word, but I’m also aware that I have little currency to offer. If I don’t try, then Nadir will die for sure.
She waves her hand over his body like he’s a fallen log blocking her path. How can a goddess be so callous? I remind myself that she was a spoiled young queen who was forced into this role. She is no benevolent spirit, as we’ve all been led to believe. She never lived up to the potential the Empyrium saw in her. This might be all she knows.
“Fine,” I say through gritted teeth. It’s a fool’s mission, but I’ll do anything to save my mate.
And really, how bad could this be?
I rub a hand down my face.
When did I get so good at kidding myself?
“I thought you’d say that,” she says with a simpering smile. “You have five days.”
“What? That’s not enough time!”
But a second later, my surroundings blink out in a flash of white light, and I find myself lying facedown on a warm patch of sand, a strong wind tossing my hair and tugging at my clothing.
I cough the grit out of my mouth as I roll over to find an expanse of crystal-blue ocean filling the horizon. Sitting up, I scan my surroundings and realize Zerra must have dropped me in Alluvion.
At least she did me this favor. She must really want that ark.
“That bitch,” I say, wiping sand from my mouth, but the effort only deposits more fine grains onto my tongue. I try to spit them out, but more wedge between my teeth and in my throat.
I wince at the ache in every joint and muscle. Between the fight and the chase inside the Sun Palace, trying to heal Nadir, and the emotional weight of losing my mate, I feel like I’ve been filled with a thousand pounds of lead.
My quest stands in the distance. A shimmering palace made of what looks like sea glass sits on the shore, glistening in the sun—the Alluvion King’s home.
I stare at it, wondering how to approach this. Walk up and announce myself? Tell Cyan who I am? Would he believe me? And if he does, will he welcome me or vilify me for my grandmother’s actions? Maybe he’ll try to use me like everyone else. Can I trust my secrets with him? Do the rulers of Ouranos know the heir of Heart has surfaced?
I stumble to my feet, dusting sand off my golden Sun Palace livery. I think of Nadir in his black clothes and how he refused to wear the uniform during our mission to the Mirror. A sob cracks in my chest, and I hold my hand against it as though I could stop my heart from leaking out and bleeding through my ribs. But I have to keep it together for his sake.
I attempt to straighten my wrinkled clothes and finger comb the tangles out of my hair. I rub my face as if that might do something to make me more presentable. I must look like something the ocean vomited onto the shore.
“You couldn’t have given me something clean to wear?!” I shout at the sky, but I’m met with only belligerent silence.
Zerra’s probably watching me, loving every moment of this.
“Fucking gods,” I mumble to myself as I pick my way through the soft sand that’s already filling my boots, chafing my skin.
I remember the beaches of Aphelion and the day I was dangled on a rope over the water. I’ve decided I hate beaches and sand and maybe the ocean, too, as pretty as it is. This one’s probably also filled with deadly, flesh-eating creatures.
I pull off my boots and then curse when the hot sand instantly burns my feet.
Yes, I fucking hate the beach.
Loathe it, in fact.
I move quickly, attempting to find relief from this cursed stretch of blazing sand.
Finally, a stone pathway appears, winding towards the palace. In the distance, I make out a pair of guards flanking an entrance.
It feels as though I have no choice but to walk up and introduce myself. I could try to find a way to sneak in, perhaps get a job as a servant like Willow in Aphelion, but the clock is ticking on an impossible timeline, and I only have five days. This will require directness.
I make my way up the path. The stones are warm, but at least they don’t singe my feet. When I’m in view of the gate, I stop, again trying to smooth down my hair to make myself appear somewhat like the queen I apparently am. I’m sure it’s hopeless, though.
I consider putting my boots back on, but my feet are covered in sand, and the idea is deeply unappealing.
So I straighten my shoulders, trying to radiate confidence.
Fake it until you make it, they say.
I have a feeling I’m about to become the world’s biggest imposter.
I blow out a breath and then march towards the gate with my boots dangling from my hand and my chin held high, clinging to the promise of my certain failure.
I limp my way up the path as the Alluvion guards eye me with understandable suspicion. They wear light clothing—swaths of blue fabric slung across their broad chests, leaving slivers of exposed sun-kissed skin, and knee-length skirts draped around their hips. Silver shoulder plates, vambraces, and shin guards complete their armor.
They each hold a spear in one hand and wear a sword strapped to their back. My lightning magic buzzes under my skin, and I’d have no problem dispatching these two obstacles, but I don’t want to make that sort of entrance. Cyan will never trust me with the ark’s location if I go around maiming his guards without provocation.
The palace glints in the sun, reflecting so brightly its brilliance sears my retinas. The guards wear shields over their eyes made from pairs of oval-shaped lenses, obviously meant to protect from the glare.
When I’m a few feet away, I stop. We eye each other as they look at me and then beyond as if trying to determine where I’ve come from. Fair question because there’s nothing behind me but miles of empty sand and ocean. It makes me wonder why guards protect this entrance, but I guess that’s neither here nor there. Maybe Cyan is the paranoid type.
“Hi,” I say, waving like an idiot as they stare at me wordlessly. I drop my hand, suddenly nervous, as heat pricks up the back of my neck that has nothing to do with the temperature.
“I am here to see your king.”
Oh, very smooth, Lor. That’ll convince them. I attempt to infuse some authority and poise into my posture, but I’ve clearly failed as the guard on the left stares at me like I’ve grown another head.
“Now,” I add, hoping it makes me sound sufficiently bossy. That’s what a queen would do, right?
The guard narrows his striking blue eyes.
“Who are you?” he asks.
“I’m…” What do I say? I can’t just blurt out that I’m the Heart Queen. First, who’ll believe me? Second, too many people in Ouranos view my family in a less than favorable light. I’m just as likely to be gutted with a stake and left for the vultures as offered the welcome mat.
“I’m Serce’s granddaughter,” I say, hoping that’s vague but also specific enough. I wait for some sign these words mean something to this pair.
“Who is that?” the guard on the right asks. “And why should we care?”
I blow out a breath and scratch the back of my scalp.
“Please. Will you just go and tell your king that? He’ll know what it means.”
The guard scoffs. “Run along, sweetheart, unless you want to spend a night in His Majesty’s dungeon.”
“Just for asking a question?”
“For disturbing the peace.”
I make a show of looking at the empty space around us, at the deserted beach where not a single other soul is present, and then raise an eyebrow with a pointed look.
He clears his throat. “Nevertheless. No one demands an audience with the king.”
“I’m not demanding. I’m asking. Very politely.”
The guard sighs and shakes his head before he exchanges a look with his companion.
“Very well,” the first guard says. “Follow me.”
“Really?” I say, hardly daring to believe my luck. This still doesn’t guarantee Cyan will see me, but at least it’s progress. “I mean… yes, okay. Good. Take me to your king.” I throw my shoulders back again, trying to pretend I belong here.
He starts to roll his eyes but catches himself like the well-trained soldier he is. He opens the dark blue door made of some kind of shimmering material and gestures me ahead.
“Walk directly in front of me and don’t touch anything,” he says. I nod, lifting my hand in promise before I’m ushered into the palace’s cool interior. I blink as my eyes adjust to the shift. Though high windows let in plenty of light, it’s an abrupt change from the blazing reflections outside.
The watery blue tiles are cool on my feet, and I wince at the sensation of a reverse burn against my sweltering soles. I lift the hair on the back of my neck, attempting to expose it to a lick of cool air, savoring a break from the beating sun.
“Walk,” the guard says before we march down a hallway towards a large chamber through an arched doorway. As we near the end, he calls out, “Halt.”
He brushes past me. “Stay there.”
Two more guards flank the entrance. One male and one female, both stiff with attention. My escort exchanges a few words with the High Fae female in a low voice that I strain to hear. She casts a look at me and then back before jerking her chin.
The first guard then passes me by and walks in the direction we came, shaking his head as though I’ve ruined his entire day.
“It was nice meeting you too,” I call to his retreating back.
Not surprisingly, he doesn’t respond or acknowledge my existence.
“Come with me,” the female guard says as I turn to face her.
She has deep olive skin, her nose and cheeks covered in a dusting of brown freckles, likely garnered from hours in the sun. Her brown hair is tied in a high braided ponytail that accentuates the hard lines of her face, and her dark green eyes flash with anger. I can’t tell if it’s because of me or because she’s just having one of those days.
I’m led through the palace and its winding halls, hearing the crash of the ocean in the distance. Otherwise, it’s quiet here, no one passing us as we walk. The woman stares straight ahead as she marches at a brisk pace.
We pass high windows made of stained glass in various shades of blue and green and walls embedded with the fossils of seashells and sea life, all dusted with sparkling silver. As we head down another long hall, I see more guards waiting at the end.
We approach them, and the woman says, “Take her.”
Before I have a chance to react, two enormous male High Fae wearing Alluvion armor seize me roughly by each arm.
“What are you doing?” I ask as a door swings open and they drag me through. “I demand to see your king!”
The female guard walks ahead of us and calls over her shoulder. “You were told you’d be sent to the dungeons if you insisted on bothering the guards.”
“What?” I say, realization dawning on me. That bastard tricked me into following him inside, and I did so like a gullible little duckling.
My magic sparks under my skin, begging to be released. All it would take is a flick, and all three would be dead. But who else would I kill?
My heart stutters in my chest when I think of Nadir’s lifeless face on the ground. Of the way it felt when his heart stopped and the screams ripped from my throat. I don’t think I can face that again—even if these Fae are all strangers intent on locking me up.
My hands ball into fists as the guards force me to walk-stumble down a set of winding stairs.
They’re just doing their job. I’ve been granted immense power at the tips of my fingers, and I’ve discovered the hard way that I need to learn how to use it responsibly. I can’t just go around blasting away everyone who pisses me off.
A previous Lor might have done that, but I’m trying to be a better person.
Besides, I’m inside the palace at least. I’ll find a way to convince them to grant me an audience with Cyan, though I’m painfully aware that spending any time in the dungeon means fewer days I have to save Nadir.
Inhaling a deep breath, I will my nerves to settle. I have to keep a clear head. I won’t do him any favors if I panic and mess this up. I need to earn Cyan’s trust. My insides war with the need to think logically while my heart flakes away bit by bit. I’ve always been a master of compartmentalizing my emotions, but even I have my limits.
Finally, we reach the bottom of the staircase, and the female guard leads us past a row of cells, some already occupied and some sitting empty, until she comes to a stop and points.
I’m shoved inside by the guards with such force that I trip and drop my boots, still clutched in one of my hands. Someone kicks them in after me, and the door clangs shut before the lock clicks into place.
“Let me out of here!” I shout, grabbing the bars and shaking them. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”
The female guard stands at the bars, and it’s then I notice the ornateness of her armor—it’s similar to the men’s behind her, but detailed scrollwork marks her shoulders and vambraces, suggesting she’s someone of higher rank. Stacked with lean muscle, she looks like she could kick my ass using just her pinky finger.
There’s also something familiar about her, but I can’t figure out what.
“You’ll be quiet,” the woman says with such vehement authority that I do, in fact, go very quiet. “Serce’s granddaughter is not welcome here.”
The coldness in her eyes sets the hairs on the back of my neck at attention. Shit. Maybe that was the wrong hand to play.
But who is this woman, and how did she know my grandmother?
“I don’t know what vile scheme brought you here, but the only reason I’m allowing you to live is so His Majesty can question you first.”
Then she scans me from head to toe, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly with an implied threat, before she turns on her heel.
“Come,” she says to the guards before they all disappear, leaving me alone in my cell as Zerra’s clock tick tick ticks over my head.
My sword dangles from my hand, the tip dragging over the pavement with a dry scrape. It feels like it weighs a hundred pounds. Maybe a thousand. I step over a body, barely noticing it, my legs heavy and leaden, and make my way towards the palace.
I stare at the carnage, the air singed with smoke and ashes. And death. So much death. More than I ever imagined and so much more than I ever hoped.
When I concocted the plan to reveal Tyr to the world, I knew it would break us. I knew it would stir up ancient grudges and shake the foundations of our existence, but I hoped it wouldn’t be this bad.
What a naive asshole I was.
The sky is finally lightening after an endless day and night of fighting. Red bleeds into the sunrise, mimicking the blood that runs along the streets.
Gods, I fucked this all up.
Running a hand through my hair, I feel my fingers tangle in the knotted strands sticky with sweat and blood, and Zerra only knows what else.
Everyone finally saw the truth. Tyr is alive, and Atlas is a fraud.
I’ve lived with this secret for so many years, but its release doesn’t feel as light as I expected. Now I stand burdened with something entirely new and unfamiliar.
Tyr is alive, but he isn’t present. And Atlas is a traitor. He has always been a traitor.
He cursed me as they took him away, screaming and hurling accusations of my betrayal. I tried to drag up an ounce of sympathy for what I’d done. I’ve condemned him to an inevitable fate, but will this b
Sobbing, I cling to Nadir, pressing my ear to his chest, willing his heart to beat. It remains silent and inert, like wood charred by wildfires, drained of life and slowly crackling to ash.
My ribbons of my dense crimson magic pump through his limbs, grasping at nothing but the yawning emptiness in his chest. It’s no use. My grip slips and stutters, and I struggle to cling to the shreds of his spirit draining into the soil.
If I keep pushing myself, I risk losing control of my healing magic and sliding into the electric threads of my lightning, causing even more damage.
It’s hard to believe I could make this any worse.
I scream. I cry. I let every tear fall. I plead to the skies. I beg the goddess to save him. I bargain with the heavens. I offer up my soul in exchange for his life. I will do anything.
My vision blurs at the corners, and my stomach roils, bile basting the back of my throat. Sweat beads on my forehead as my surroundings tilt on an axis. My cries vibrate through every nerve, assaulting my ears and the tiny hairs covering my arms and the back of my neck. My skin hurts. My hair hurts. The pain in my chest feels like I’m being manipulated by giant hands, twisting my body at opposite angles until I’m nearly torn in half.
Distantly, my mind registers that Rion and his army are still close. Though we’re hidden from view, I need to stay aware. Soon enough, they’ll wake up under my dome of lightning unless I managed to kill them too. But something tells me it won’t be that easy to finally rid myself of the Aurora King.
He has the ark of Heart in his possession. Until a few days ago, I’d never heard of it, but it belongs to me. And I want it back. Something tells me I need it back.
I recall the way it looked as it landed in my outstretched hands. What the Empyrium shared with me in the Evanescence. Virulence. That black glittering stone I looked upon so many times when I stared at the Aurora Keep from the Hollow, vowing to tear it apart.
Are the arks made of the same substance?
The memory of Rion’s choking black magic filters into my turbulent thoughts. What shadowed power flows in his veins? What forces has the Aurora King been toying with? Is that what all of this has been about?
The Lord of the Underworld was the first Aurora King of the Second Age. He used virulence to attempt to destroy Zerra, and now Rion has his hands on the ark of Heart. Does he intend to destroy me with it? But why? Or am I only a step on a ladder to some other purpose?
Does Rion know that he sleeps in a bed surrounded by dark magic?
Could virulence bring Nadir back? I’d crawl into the very heart of the Beltza Mountains on my hands and knees if that’s what it took.
“Nadir,” I sob into him, soaking his shirt with my snot and tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
I did this. I was reckless and impulsive, failing to consider who might be close when I unleashed. Rion and his guards had to pay for touching me again.
Thank you for telling me where she would be.
Rion’s words come back to me with the diamond-hard clarity of honed steel.
But I refuse to believe them. If Nadir gave me up, he had a reason. He had no choice. He would never have done so willingly. After everything we’ve been through, I have to believe that. I handed him my trust, and I refuse to waver at the first test.
I fist the fabric of Nadir’s tunic as I wail, wondering how I’m supposed to go on. How can I possibly exist without him?
My magic fizzes under my skin, pulling towards him like fingers seeking a drop of moisture in a desert. It’s that same formidable tug I always felt before we finally admitted who we were to one another. Does it feel his loss, too?
No one’s heart has broken into as many pieces as mine. No number exists high enough to count these shards pushing under my skin. I am bereft. Tossed in the waves of a sea with no bottom where I’ll sink and sink for eternity.
My mate. I killed my mate.
“Help!” I scream as though anyone could make this stop being real. My stomach lurches, and my pulse pounds inside my skull, chipping away at its brittle walls. “Take me too,” I whisper. I can’t go on knowing I did this to him.
My heart lives outside of me now, exposed and raw for the world to witness the monster I’ve become.
I cry, and I cry until my soul melts out of my chest and my limbs drain of every emotion and feeling, leaving me numb and hollow and broken.
“Oh, do stop your blubbering,” comes a sharp voice, shocking me into choked silence. My head snaps up to find we’re no longer in the forest where I dragged Nadir. “It’s so very… phlegmy.”
We’re in a massive round room, the floor made of a shiny material that might be marble, except it’s one continuous slab with no discernible breaks. Windows surround us, filtering in soft white light that seems to almost hum. I feel it more than I hear it with the barest vibration in the backs of my teeth.
Though this isn’t the same room where I met the Empyrium, premonition tells me I’m back in the Evanescence, but I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
Given my luck lately, it’s probably a terrible fucking thing.
Before me stands a woman wearing a silvery dress that dusts the floor in light, airy folds. Her bronzed arms are bare, and her blonde hair curls almost to her waist, crowned with a silver circlet framing her lovely, heart-shaped face. A pair of piercing aquamarine eyes stare down at me with cool detachment.
She seems familiar, and it takes me a moment to place her. She’s the former Aphelion queen who failed to help her people and was “volunteered” to become a god.
“Zerra,” I whisper, and she tips her head, looking down at me like I’m dung smeared on the heel of her shoe.
“You called me.” She gracefully spreads her arms with her palms turned up. “So here I am.”
I search my surroundings for the Empyrium and their strange shifting body of many people, but there appears to be only the three of us in the room.
“This is the male you’re so attached to,” Zerra says with a sniff as she elegantly sinks to her heels and assesses him from head to toe. It takes a moment to process those words. Does she know who I am? Who Nadir is?
I reach out and grab her slender wrist. She feels as delicate as a bird, but the air around her is perfumed with the stench of chaos, and I would do well not to underestimate her.
“Can you help him?” I ask as she snatches it away.
She’s a god. Surely if anyone can fix this, then it’s her.
“Please. I screwed up. I lost control of my magic, and I…”
Zerra’s nostrils flare before she pushes herself to stand and takes two careful steps back, putting distance between us.
“I can help him,” she says matter-of-factly, as though she hasn’t just offered me a lifeline woven of glittering golden thread.
“Thank you,” I say, prepared to lay down my own life or whatever else she demands. “Please. I’ll do anything if you can help him.”
Zerra’s mouth twists up into a smile that sets me on edge.
“Yes. That you will, Lor.”
I blink, again noting the ominous bite of her beauty and waiting for whatever condition she’s about to attach to my future. Our future. I squeeze Nadir, hoping he knows I’m doing everything I can to fix this.
“What?” I finally ask while she continues staring at me with that same haughty look. “He’s not breathing. Hurry up. What do you want?”
She waves a hand. “Don’t worry. As long as he’s with me, he’s in a suspended state. He’ll be fine once I choose to revive him. It will be like you never killed him at all.”
Those words loosen the bolt screwed inside my chest, but it can’t be that easy. I’m confident I have many bridges yet to cross before this is over. I cling to him tighter, feeling how cold he’s grown already and how the color has leached from his skin. I run a thumb over the arch of his dark brow, my fingers caressing his cheek as my eyes burn with tears. When I look back at Zerra, she’s watching us, a crease denting the space between her brilliant blue eyes.
“What will make you choose to revive him?” I ask, gritting my teeth with impatience.
She clasps her hands at her waist and slowly paces a few steps left and then right before turning back. With my heart wedged in my throat, I clamp down on the urge to scream at her to hurry the fuck up.
“The arks,” she says after a few moments as a few pieces shift into place.
“The arks. Cloris Payne told us about them.”
“High Priestess Cloris,” she says. “You will respect her position and address her as is her station.”
I roll my neck because otherwise I’ll roll my eyes. I’ll respect Cloris fucking Payne when pigs grow unicorn horns.
“Fine. High Priestess Cloris told me.”
Zerra tips her chin as if that pleases her. But only a little. Her entire demeanor speaks to something that resembles a mortal-shaped sneer. This is the goddess who controls our lives? This small, petty woman?
“I don’t have the ark of Heart if that’s what you’re after.”
“All in due time,” she says.
I’m choosing not to think too hard about what that means, because for now, Nadir is the only thing that matters.
“The Alluvion King has an ark in his possession,” Zerra says.
I sigh, feeling pressure build in my temples, already knowing where this is going.
“I want you to retrieve it for me,” she says.
“Of course you do. And then you’ll bring him back?”
She presses her lips together and nods.
“Then I’ll bring him back.”
“What if I can’t find it?”
She wrinkles her nose and tips her head in a smooth feline movement. “Then your mate will die.”
At those words, my chest squeezes like my ribs are tied together with thick iron chains.
“Bring him back now,” I plead. “He can help me find it. And if we can’t, we’ll find another way to repay you. You have my word.”
Zerra paces a few more steps in the other direction, taking her time. I get the sense she wants to make me squirm, and I do my best to control my temper. She’s the only hope I have right now, and I have to remain on her good side.
If she has one.
Just from this single interaction and my brief window into her past, I suspect the good side of this High Fae queen-turned-goddess was set on fire and burned to ash a long time ago.
“No,” she says. “I don’t care for that idea.”
“But Nadir knows more about the rulers and their kingdoms than I do,” I say. “He’ll be a much better asset in aiding me. I’ll find it much quicker.”
I try modulating my voice into something that resembles confidence when my insides are liquefying into a raw pool of regret.
“And have you two plotting against me?” she asks. My forehead furrows as I think about the last thing the Empyrium said to me. They want to replace Zerra… and that’s when their final words come barreling back with the force of a tidal wave.
A queen without a queendom.
They want me for the job. I think.
Does Zerra know that? Am I now a threat to her?
Suspicion burns up the back of my neck. What are the odds Zerra found me only moments later? Surely the Empyrium wouldn’t have told her? And if they did, why?
I shake my head, pretending I have no clue. “I don’t know what that means. Why would we plot against you?”
I don’t want this role. It’s the last thing I want, just like the original rulers who also refused this fate. They wanted to return home and help their people recover from the disasters plaguing their lands. That’s what I want. I want to return to Heart and take my place where I’m sure I belong.
I ignore the tiny, chastising voice in my head telling me that maybe that has never actually been my destiny, even if it’s what I want.
But one problem at a time, I guess.
Should I tell her I don’t intend to replace her? Would she believe me? What if she doesn’t know about any of this, and I’d just be revealing everything to her?
“We wouldn’t do that,” I say. “I don’t even know how we’d do that.”
She makes a noise that suggests she doesn’t believe me.
“These are my conditions. You will travel to Alluvion, ingratiate yourself with Cyan, and find out where his ark is hiding.”
“That’s it?” I ask, hope spiraling in my chest. That I can do.
“No, that’s not it,” she bites out like I’m literally the stupidest person she’s ever met. “Then you’re going to steal it for me.”
I hold in another weary sigh that threatens to topple this entire room. Everyone wants something from me. Rion. Atlas. Cloris. And now… this goddess who seems like kind of a bitch. But worse than that, she seems dangerous. A knifepoint dangling over my head.
“And then you’ll bring Nadir back to life?”
“Yes,” she says. “Decide. I grow weary of this conversation. I can just as easily let him die right now. It truly doesn’t matter to me.”
She says the words casually, but they taste like a lie.
The Empyrium described the great lengths she went to retrieve the arks in the past. She wouldn’t have done any of that if they didn’t matter. She tore apart Ouranos trying to root them out, and now she intends to search for them again.
Why does she think I’ll succeed where her priestesses failed? Why is she asking me? Did she see an opportunity when I called for her, knowing she could use Nadir as leverage? Or is all of this a coincidence?
Does any of it matter right now when his life is on the line?
“Where will Nadir be while I’m in Alluvion?”
“Right here with me,” Zerra says. “Were you expecting a parade for him?”
The bitter taste of anger flashes in the back of my throat. “I just need to know he’ll be safe.”
She rolls her eyes. “You really don’t have much choice, dear Lor. Either accept my offer or I’ll send you back to Ouranos, and you can see how you manage on your own. But he’ll be gone. Understand that.”
I could be walking into her trap if she does know of the Empyrium’s plans, and I have no idea if she’ll keep her word, but I’m also aware that I have little currency to offer. If I don’t try, then Nadir will die for sure.
She waves her hand over his body like he’s a fallen log blocking her path. How can a goddess be so callous? I remind myself that she was a spoiled young queen who was forced into this role. She is no benevolent spirit, as we’ve all been led to believe. She never lived up to the potential the Empyrium saw in her. This might be all she knows.
“Fine,” I say through gritted teeth. It’s a fool’s mission, but I’ll do anything to save my mate.
And really, how bad could this be?
I rub a hand down my face.
When did I get so good at kidding myself?
“I thought you’d say that,” she says with a simpering smile. “You have five days.”
“What? That’s not enough time!”
But a second later, my surroundings blink out in a flash of white light, and I find myself lying facedown on a warm patch of sand, a strong wind tossing my hair and tugging at my clothing.
I cough the grit out of my mouth as I roll over to find an expanse of crystal-blue ocean filling the horizon. Sitting up, I scan my surroundings and realize Zerra must have dropped me in Alluvion.
At least she did me this favor. She must really want that ark.
“That bitch,” I say, wiping sand from my mouth, but the effort only deposits more fine grains onto my tongue. I try to spit them out, but more wedge between my teeth and in my throat.
I wince at the ache in every joint and muscle. Between the fight and the chase inside the Sun Palace, trying to heal Nadir, and the emotional weight of losing my mate, I feel like I’ve been filled with a thousand pounds of lead.
My quest stands in the distance. A shimmering palace made of what looks like sea glass sits on the shore, glistening in the sun—the Alluvion King’s home.
I stare at it, wondering how to approach this. Walk up and announce myself? Tell Cyan who I am? Would he believe me? And if he does, will he welcome me or vilify me for my grandmother’s actions? Maybe he’ll try to use me like everyone else. Can I trust my secrets with him? Do the rulers of Ouranos know the heir of Heart has surfaced?
I stumble to my feet, dusting sand off my golden Sun Palace livery. I think of Nadir in his black clothes and how he refused to wear the uniform during our mission to the Mirror. A sob cracks in my chest, and I hold my hand against it as though I could stop my heart from leaking out and bleeding through my ribs. But I have to keep it together for his sake.
I attempt to straighten my wrinkled clothes and finger comb the tangles out of my hair. I rub my face as if that might do something to make me more presentable. I must look like something the ocean vomited onto the shore.
“You couldn’t have given me something clean to wear?!” I shout at the sky, but I’m met with only belligerent silence.
Zerra’s probably watching me, loving every moment of this.
“Fucking gods,” I mumble to myself as I pick my way through the soft sand that’s already filling my boots, chafing my skin.
I remember the beaches of Aphelion and the day I was dangled on a rope over the water. I’ve decided I hate beaches and sand and maybe the ocean, too, as pretty as it is. This one’s probably also filled with deadly, flesh-eating creatures.
I pull off my boots and then curse when the hot sand instantly burns my feet.
Yes, I fucking hate the beach.
Loathe it, in fact.
I move quickly, attempting to find relief from this cursed stretch of blazing sand.
Finally, a stone pathway appears, winding towards the palace. In the distance, I make out a pair of guards flanking an entrance.
It feels as though I have no choice but to walk up and introduce myself. I could try to find a way to sneak in, perhaps get a job as a servant like Willow in Aphelion, but the clock is ticking on an impossible timeline, and I only have five days. This will require directness.
I make my way up the path. The stones are warm, but at least they don’t singe my feet. When I’m in view of the gate, I stop, again trying to smooth down my hair to make myself appear somewhat like the queen I apparently am. I’m sure it’s hopeless, though.
I consider putting my boots back on, but my feet are covered in sand, and the idea is deeply unappealing.
So I straighten my shoulders, trying to radiate confidence.
Fake it until you make it, they say.
I have a feeling I’m about to become the world’s biggest imposter.
I blow out a breath and then march towards the gate with my boots dangling from my hand and my chin held high, clinging to the promise of my certain failure.
I limp my way up the path as the Alluvion guards eye me with understandable suspicion. They wear light clothing—swaths of blue fabric slung across their broad chests, leaving slivers of exposed sun-kissed skin, and knee-length skirts draped around their hips. Silver shoulder plates, vambraces, and shin guards complete their armor.
They each hold a spear in one hand and wear a sword strapped to their back. My lightning magic buzzes under my skin, and I’d have no problem dispatching these two obstacles, but I don’t want to make that sort of entrance. Cyan will never trust me with the ark’s location if I go around maiming his guards without provocation.
The palace glints in the sun, reflecting so brightly its brilliance sears my retinas. The guards wear shields over their eyes made from pairs of oval-shaped lenses, obviously meant to protect from the glare.
When I’m a few feet away, I stop. We eye each other as they look at me and then beyond as if trying to determine where I’ve come from. Fair question because there’s nothing behind me but miles of empty sand and ocean. It makes me wonder why guards protect this entrance, but I guess that’s neither here nor there. Maybe Cyan is the paranoid type.
“Hi,” I say, waving like an idiot as they stare at me wordlessly. I drop my hand, suddenly nervous, as heat pricks up the back of my neck that has nothing to do with the temperature.
“I am here to see your king.”
Oh, very smooth, Lor. That’ll convince them. I attempt to infuse some authority and poise into my posture, but I’ve clearly failed as the guard on the left stares at me like I’ve grown another head.
“Now,” I add, hoping it makes me sound sufficiently bossy. That’s what a queen would do, right?
The guard narrows his striking blue eyes.
“Who are you?” he asks.
“I’m…” What do I say? I can’t just blurt out that I’m the Heart Queen. First, who’ll believe me? Second, too many people in Ouranos view my family in a less than favorable light. I’m just as likely to be gutted with a stake and left for the vultures as offered the welcome mat.
“I’m Serce’s granddaughter,” I say, hoping that’s vague but also specific enough. I wait for some sign these words mean something to this pair.
“Who is that?” the guard on the right asks. “And why should we care?”
I blow out a breath and scratch the back of my scalp.
“Please. Will you just go and tell your king that? He’ll know what it means.”
The guard scoffs. “Run along, sweetheart, unless you want to spend a night in His Majesty’s dungeon.”
“Just for asking a question?”
“For disturbing the peace.”
I make a show of looking at the empty space around us, at the deserted beach where not a single other soul is present, and then raise an eyebrow with a pointed look.
He clears his throat. “Nevertheless. No one demands an audience with the king.”
“I’m not demanding. I’m asking. Very politely.”
The guard sighs and shakes his head before he exchanges a look with his companion.
“Very well,” the first guard says. “Follow me.”
“Really?” I say, hardly daring to believe my luck. This still doesn’t guarantee Cyan will see me, but at least it’s progress. “I mean… yes, okay. Good. Take me to your king.” I throw my shoulders back again, trying to pretend I belong here.
He starts to roll his eyes but catches himself like the well-trained soldier he is. He opens the dark blue door made of some kind of shimmering material and gestures me ahead.
“Walk directly in front of me and don’t touch anything,” he says. I nod, lifting my hand in promise before I’m ushered into the palace’s cool interior. I blink as my eyes adjust to the shift. Though high windows let in plenty of light, it’s an abrupt change from the blazing reflections outside.
The watery blue tiles are cool on my feet, and I wince at the sensation of a reverse burn against my sweltering soles. I lift the hair on the back of my neck, attempting to expose it to a lick of cool air, savoring a break from the beating sun.
“Walk,” the guard says before we march down a hallway towards a large chamber through an arched doorway. As we near the end, he calls out, “Halt.”
He brushes past me. “Stay there.”
Two more guards flank the entrance. One male and one female, both stiff with attention. My escort exchanges a few words with the High Fae female in a low voice that I strain to hear. She casts a look at me and then back before jerking her chin.
The first guard then passes me by and walks in the direction we came, shaking his head as though I’ve ruined his entire day.
“It was nice meeting you too,” I call to his retreating back.
Not surprisingly, he doesn’t respond or acknowledge my existence.
“Come with me,” the female guard says as I turn to face her.
She has deep olive skin, her nose and cheeks covered in a dusting of brown freckles, likely garnered from hours in the sun. Her brown hair is tied in a high braided ponytail that accentuates the hard lines of her face, and her dark green eyes flash with anger. I can’t tell if it’s because of me or because she’s just having one of those days.
I’m led through the palace and its winding halls, hearing the crash of the ocean in the distance. Otherwise, it’s quiet here, no one passing us as we walk. The woman stares straight ahead as she marches at a brisk pace.
We pass high windows made of stained glass in various shades of blue and green and walls embedded with the fossils of seashells and sea life, all dusted with sparkling silver. As we head down another long hall, I see more guards waiting at the end.
We approach them, and the woman says, “Take her.”
Before I have a chance to react, two enormous male High Fae wearing Alluvion armor seize me roughly by each arm.
“What are you doing?” I ask as a door swings open and they drag me through. “I demand to see your king!”
The female guard walks ahead of us and calls over her shoulder. “You were told you’d be sent to the dungeons if you insisted on bothering the guards.”
“What?” I say, realization dawning on me. That bastard tricked me into following him inside, and I did so like a gullible little duckling.
My magic sparks under my skin, begging to be released. All it would take is a flick, and all three would be dead. But who else would I kill?
My heart stutters in my chest when I think of Nadir’s lifeless face on the ground. Of the way it felt when his heart stopped and the screams ripped from my throat. I don’t think I can face that again—even if these Fae are all strangers intent on locking me up.
My hands ball into fists as the guards force me to walk-stumble down a set of winding stairs.
They’re just doing their job. I’ve been granted immense power at the tips of my fingers, and I’ve discovered the hard way that I need to learn how to use it responsibly. I can’t just go around blasting away everyone who pisses me off.
A previous Lor might have done that, but I’m trying to be a better person.
Besides, I’m inside the palace at least. I’ll find a way to convince them to grant me an audience with Cyan, though I’m painfully aware that spending any time in the dungeon means fewer days I have to save Nadir.
Inhaling a deep breath, I will my nerves to settle. I have to keep a clear head. I won’t do him any favors if I panic and mess this up. I need to earn Cyan’s trust. My insides war with the need to think logically while my heart flakes away bit by bit. I’ve always been a master of compartmentalizing my emotions, but even I have my limits.
Finally, we reach the bottom of the staircase, and the female guard leads us past a row of cells, some already occupied and some sitting empty, until she comes to a stop and points.
I’m shoved inside by the guards with such force that I trip and drop my boots, still clutched in one of my hands. Someone kicks them in after me, and the door clangs shut before the lock clicks into place.
“Let me out of here!” I shout, grabbing the bars and shaking them. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”
The female guard stands at the bars, and it’s then I notice the ornateness of her armor—it’s similar to the men’s behind her, but detailed scrollwork marks her shoulders and vambraces, suggesting she’s someone of higher rank. Stacked with lean muscle, she looks like she could kick my ass using just her pinky finger.
There’s also something familiar about her, but I can’t figure out what.
“You’ll be quiet,” the woman says with such vehement authority that I do, in fact, go very quiet. “Serce’s granddaughter is not welcome here.”
The coldness in her eyes sets the hairs on the back of my neck at attention. Shit. Maybe that was the wrong hand to play.
But who is this woman, and how did she know my grandmother?
“I don’t know what vile scheme brought you here, but the only reason I’m allowing you to live is so His Majesty can question you first.”
Then she scans me from head to toe, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly with an implied threat, before she turns on her heel.
“Come,” she says to the guards before they all disappear, leaving me alone in my cell as Zerra’s clock tick tick ticks over my head.
My sword dangles from my hand, the tip dragging over the pavement with a dry scrape. It feels like it weighs a hundred pounds. Maybe a thousand. I step over a body, barely noticing it, my legs heavy and leaden, and make my way towards the palace.
I stare at the carnage, the air singed with smoke and ashes. And death. So much death. More than I ever imagined and so much more than I ever hoped.
When I concocted the plan to reveal Tyr to the world, I knew it would break us. I knew it would stir up ancient grudges and shake the foundations of our existence, but I hoped it wouldn’t be this bad.
What a naive asshole I was.
The sky is finally lightening after an endless day and night of fighting. Red bleeds into the sunrise, mimicking the blood that runs along the streets.
Gods, I fucked this all up.
Running a hand through my hair, I feel my fingers tangle in the knotted strands sticky with sweat and blood, and Zerra only knows what else.
Everyone finally saw the truth. Tyr is alive, and Atlas is a fraud.
I’ve lived with this secret for so many years, but its release doesn’t feel as light as I expected. Now I stand burdened with something entirely new and unfamiliar.
Tyr is alive, but he isn’t present. And Atlas is a traitor. He has always been a traitor.
He cursed me as they took him away, screaming and hurling accusations of my betrayal. I tried to drag up an ounce of sympathy for what I’d done. I’ve condemned him to an inevitable fate, but will this b
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Tale of the Heart Queen
Nisha J. Tuli
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