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Synopsis
For fans of Sarah H. Parker, Cassandra Clare, and Kerri Maniscalco, the villainous shapeshifter Dianna and tortured God King Samkiel return for a war to end all wars in this new, never-before-published epic romantasy from New York Times bestselling author Amber V. Nicole.
THE FINAL WAR BEGINS, AND THE CONSEQUENCES CAN MEAN COMPLETE DESOLATION.
As Nismera grapples with the promise of victory after her greatest enemy is seemingly defeated, a new, darker threat arises. As the power of the universe shifts and accords are struck, no longer is it gods against gods, but a fight against monsters.
An unlikely alliance forms when Dianna, Kaden, and Isaiah are thrust into a reality not their own. Forced to work with those from their pasts will either make or break the three of them. In searching for a way back, they discover that an old relic may be the key to survival across the realms.
A RACE AGAINST TIME ITSELF IS SET IN MOTION FOR THEM TO RETURN TO THEIR WORLD BEFORE THERE IS NO WORLD LEFT.
Release date: November 24, 2026
Publisher: Kensington Books
Print pages: 608
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The Fall of the Crowned King
Amber V. Nicole
Content notice: The Fall of the Crowned King explores some potentially triggering themes. A list of content warnings can be found on the Rose & Star website.
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by:
Kensington Publishing Corp.
900 Third Avenue
New York, NY 10022
kensingtonbooks.com
Copyright © 2026 by Amber Nicole
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Without limiting the author’s and publisher’s exclusive rights, any unauthorized use of this publication to train generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies is expressly prohibited.
All Kensington titles, imprints, and distributed lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotions, premiums, fundraising, educational, or institutional use.
Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington sales manager: Kensington Publishing Corp., 900 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10022, attn: Sales Department; phone 1-800-221-2647.
The K with book logo Reg US Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN 978-1-4967-6564-2 (trade paperback)
First Kensington trade paperback printing: December 2026
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Printed in the United States of America
Electronic edition 978-1-5161-1278-4 (ebook)
Map design by Dewi Hargreaves
Chapter illustrations by Marta Riva (Marta Into The Forest)
Interior design by Cassandra Farrin
The authorized representative in the EU for product safety and compliance is eucomply OU, Parnu mnt 139b-14, Apt 123
Tallinn, Berlin 11317, [email protected]
The gods are alive.
That wasn’t the only thing that tumbled through my mind. Yes, I’d known returning to the realms would be treacherous, but it was worse than I could have ever imagined. I’d known that convincing those who had sworn fealty to me that my wife was not a monster was going to be a task, but it was nothing compared to the reaction I got from those who turned up their noses at the mere sight of her. Nismera’s reign was like a poison through the cosmos, seeping into every vein and slowly rotting every living thing it touched. We weren’t simply trying to gather forces and rebuild an army. We were trying to save them, and instead of listening, they took one look at Dianna and saw it as proof of Nismera’s lies. Was it foolish to continue to try even as they willingly drowned themselves in fear and the promise of a better world that would never be realized? Perhaps. Or maybe it was simply infernal hope, and gods, what a wicked thing that was.
No matter our efforts, the universe continued to spit in our faces, throwing obstacles, threats, and foes at us, threatening what little peace we had managed to carve for ourselves. The upheaval all around us was echoed within myself. Without my ring, Oblivion was growing restless and volatile. I feared if I could not find another to replace the one Nismera had stolen from me, my power would eventually break the confines of my tenuous control and unleash destruction across the realms.
Although, I had proven that, given the right circumstances, I was not above utilizing it. It seemed that I had no remorse when using it in defense of Dianna, and I had not hesitated to deploy Oblivion to slay my brother. He had turned my akrai, stealing her mortality, and then he had used her sister as a leash to control her for centuries before finally killing Gabby. He had stolen Dianna’s life and then he had destroyed the only thing that had kept her in the light, and I felt nothing but satisfaction in his death. But the universe once more had a different plan, and Death intervened. He brought Kaden back to life, and as if that weren’t enough, he tied Dianna’s life to Kaden’s and Isaiah’s, forging a bond that even with all of my strength, I could not break. His demand was simple. He wanted us working together, and to make sure we complied, he ensured that if one of them died, all three of them died.
Once created, the bond began to bare hidden truths. Kaden and Isaiah were forced to face Nismera’s betrayal of not only themselves but her Legion. Discovering she was part Ig’Morruthen shook the foundations of their reality and sent them spiraling into a world of doubt and uncertainty. For Nismera, it was business as usual, using lies and manipulations to continue to slip her venom into the realms. It reached the King of the Otherworld, and his attack led to one of my worst fears. Dianna’s capture only aggravated the power festering inside of me, begging to be free. And no longer was it chained by a ring crafted at the will of my lying father. Now, the only thing between Oblivion and the realms was the thin, frayed grip of my will.
I used to think the worst day of my life was the fall of Rashearim, when I watched my home crack and burn. I watched those I called friends and family turn foe. They raged and fought for my death, my father’s annihilation. I locked myself away for a thousand years because of that guilt and the burden of the shame. That loss. But it was not true loss, not in the slightest. The worst pain imaginable was watching the one you love more than anything in the world slip between your fingers as they turned to nothing but ash.
I thought I had a purpose coming back to the realms. I thought it was my duty, my honor, to save them. This was an opportunity to reinstate and uphold the justice my father had introduced. I wanted to restore the realms to the beauty I remembered, but with the loss of Dianna … I couldn’t remember why. I supposed, I should have been grateful that the gods showed up at the height of my grief and the resultant destruction. Cameron and I were captured, and I couldn’t bring myself to care all that much. All I knew was …
The gods are alive. For now.
—Samkiel
PRESENT REALITY
Arcelia
Light spilled from the opening behind me, casting the large stone table aglow. Numerous cities and landscapes flowed atop it, all controlled by the exquisitely elegant power Kryella conducted like fine music. Emerald magic swirled in graceful streams as the scene changed. Raging tornadoes and howling, violent winds decimated everything in their paths, digging deep into the planet and changing the topography forever. This was all that remained of the once-proud realm of Pheher, the world Nismera had called home. It was now a planet of endless, brutal storms, rife with Oblivion.
With a flick of Kryella’s fingers, the scene disappeared, its magical surface inert and unassuming. Power pressed against the walls of the room, radiating from the many beings barking at each other like hounds. The council room was full of gods and goddesses, called together to once again speak of the realms. Only this time, it was regarding the most recent violent act by not a foe but one of their most treasured. The high gold-and-cream stone ceilings trembled with the effort to contain their outrage. Some sat, others stood, loudly voicing their thoughts and opinions.
My back remained straight, hands folded in my lap as I sat at the head of the table, looking out the open terrace doors. Kryella sat next to me, and I saw her glance at me from the corner of my eye. I was not gazing at the clouds as they rose and drifted past, but at what lay beyond. The mist constantly shifted and separated to reveal the floating, heavily guarded tower. The smooth, shimmering stone reflected the light of the sun, with guards standing at every entry point. They clutched swords and spears of the purest silver so tightly that even from here, I could see the tension that gripped them. What they were guarding frightened not only the most seasoned warriors but the gods themselves.
A smooth hand ran across mine, jarring me from the growing power I could feel thrumming even from here. Like a sleeping, massive entity yet to open its eyes and feast, power rolled from it in thick, dark waves, emanating effortlessly from the god trapped within the tower and reverberating through me to my very marrow.
“It is secured, my queen. He is,” Kryella said, smiling at me. I knew he was. She had reinforced the runes that ran from ceiling to floor, both within and outside of his prison, with magic so ancient and primordial that it rivaled even Unir’s power. After all, she was the one who helped craft the Ring of Oblivion. If anything living could temper that horrendous power, it was Kryella.
“I know,” I said and forced a smile for my oldest and most trusted friend, even as an icy chill ran up my spine.
“With all due respect, none of you were there. Kryella showed you the destruction left in the wake of Oblivion, but you didn’t experience the storms he created. The wind sounded like a howling beast. It was so violent that even the people it didn’t snatch from the ground and rip apart, it skinned alive before turning them into nothing,” Nismera said, her voice rising above the others. “Yet we have him imprisoned here, and I use that word lightly. Kryella is continually feeding the runes to keep him contained in that tower.”
“I can envision the damage you saw. His father, with help of course, designed and crafted that ring to contain such devastation.” Othello rubbed his brow, obviously having grown weary of the council meeting that had started at dawn and was pushing into the late afternoon.
“Unfortunately,” Neth added. “He has discovered that he doesn’t need a ring to wield Oblivion. He now knows it is a part of him. Uncontrollable destructive power is built into his very cells, and even we do not fully understand what that means.”
“It means Samkiel has inherited far more power and rage than his father ever had,” Wren interjected, casting a long glance at Nismera. “Rage you coaxed out of him.”
Nismera rested her finely manicured fingers against her chest in mock shock. “Me? I only did what all of you wished, did I not? Her execution was put to a council vote. The council voted. It was decided. I simply executed.”
Silence slowly fell as they looked at one another, then at me. I tipped my head, chairs moving as one by one they slowly sat.
“Yes,” I answered, the pressure in the room subsiding a fraction. “But perhaps a little more tact would have been prudent. Instead, from your report, she was dragged through the streets like a beaten mongrel.”
A satisfied glint flashed in Nismera’s eyes as she stared at me. We were at opposite ends of the table, she and I, but our wants and goals aligned. We had the same drive and ambition, and none around this table seemed to be the wiser. It was a secret that died with Unir and festered with Kryella and me.
“The council never decreed she had to be intact.” Nismera rested her hands along the arms of her chair, the silver chains draped over her armored shoulders swaying with the movement.
“Wren is correct in his assessment. You purposely coaxed Oblivion out of him,” I said.
Nismera shrugged off my accusation. “Perhaps. Or perhaps, it was finally to show you, all of you, the savior you so helplessly fawn over is no better than the man who ruled before him or the creatures he made and called his sons.” Nismera paused, allowing the murmurs to build before going on. “I did what the council asked, what you demanded, to show my allegiance to you,” her eyes sliced like daggers around the table before returning to me, “to this council, to these realms. Perhaps I was disillusioned over the loss of the throne I was promised. Perhaps I overstretched in my desire to reclaim my birthright, but I came willingly when we all realized what and who were the actual threats, and my Legion and I were nearly slaughtered for it.”
Nismera was beautiful, and her intelligence was beyond contestation. Her words were pretty and engaging, and she used them not as a weapon, but as an insidious poison that tasted sweet. As a result, a majority of the council was eager to fall to their knees before her, Blayne most obviously. Even Koa, who never agreed with Nismera, never forgot what she had done, knew she spoke the truth of what was at stake. So allegiances, as she so plainly put it, were formed because no matter what Nismera had done, she was still a god to them, an equal, and Ayla Deyanira was not.
“We need to make a decision,” Blayne said. “Samkiel’s crimes must not go unpunished. The people beg for it. If they see that one of us can fall and decimate a world without consequence, their belief and trust in us will be lost. If that happens, we lose the grip we have on them.”
A chorus of agreement rose into the air.
“I vote for execution,” Nismera declared, having no trouble being heard over all the voices.
Everyone fell silent, but I saw a few around the table nodding. Nismera once more let her hatred for her brother spill from her lips. Execution would normally have been the last thing they’d agree to. At most, they would have insisted upon a public punishment and shaming, out in the open for all to witness, but death would have been the furthest thing from their minds. Samkiel was their king and, above that, their kin. The act of murdering their own was a vile offense, especially after so many were lost in the Gods War.
“You overreach, Nismera. You wish for us to publicly execute one of our own?” I asked, tipping my head to the side. Challenge received and challenge met.
“What other option do you have?” she asked. “I know what I am suggesting, but the people of these realms are screaming for retribution. Do you know how many he slaughtered—”
“You mean the ones you invited to the public execution of his mate? Tell me, what outcome did you expect from the World Ender?” Koa interjected.
A vast majority of the other gods nodded in agreement, but I could tell at a glance that even now, Nismera had loyalists in our midst who were not in his favor.
Nismera turned toward him, her smile bordering on condescending. “Has age made it hard for you to pay attention in council meetings? We already spoke of this. I was getting rid of a growing threat we all agreed needed to be taken care of.”
“I did not vote for that outcome,” Koa sneered, ignoring her insult.
“No,” she said. “But a vast majority of this council did, and I took that responsibility. I told you all that I am on your side. You asked for proof, and I gave it, putting my Legion at risk. I saw what could destroy not only us but realms beyond. Now you can see it too. Samkiel has always been a weapon ready to detonate, and now you see his lack of care for those he sought to rule. I have apologized here on this council repeatedly for my transgressions, but what is civil unrest between gods?” She placed a hand over the space a heart would be if she had been born with one. “My challenges were always for my crown, not the end of all of you. Those who came for my throat were slaughtered in self-defense. Him? If he gains his freedom, he will slaughter the lot of us to avenge the creature he bedded. You are foolish to think otherwise. And who, I ask, will stop him? Shall I leave? I can take my warships and Legion, and then we will see how well you all fare when the World Ender finally shows you how fitting it is that he bears that name.”
Murmurs started once more, filling the air as an emotion I had not felt from the gods in this room leaked toward the floor. Fear. It was my turn to gather the room’s attention. I stood, clasping my hands in front of me as every set of silver eyes turned toward me.
“He is still one of us, regardless of what transpired three days ago. He is a god the public has viewed and cherished for eons. Statues of him still grace the great halls. If we wish to sow peace and settle unrest, we can have that.” I emphasized.
I saw Nismera’s jaw set in irritation, so much like the father who created her. I paid her no mind as I turned to each member of the council.
“Killing him, I fear, will only prove more unrest than we’ve already faced, Nismera. Your suggestion is overruled. Not only that, but it would show them that it can be done. Our blood built and crafted these realms, but this kingdom and throne exist on the backs of our people. You spill our blood in these streets, and those who have wished for our heads will slither from their pits to devour us. Samkiel has been, and remains, a great asset not only to the throne and crown but also to the people. A pillar of hope, strength, and justice. We take that away, and they will turn on us. Then who would we rule? Ourselves?”
“He betrayed us. Worked with enemies older than some gods and goddesses in this room,” Othello said, his voice raised as he pointed at me.
“I don’t see betrayal. He did not attempt to usurp the throne while he was here. If anything, he avoided it all in another act of rebellion that we all long ago grew tired of. Likely, he will grieve, he will mourn, and like his father, he will move on and focus on the realms.”
A scoff interrupted me as Koa placed his hands on his head.
My lips formed into a thin line before I forced them into a humble smile. “I know the last few days have been challenging for us all, but I do think peace, especially now, can be reached.”
“And how do you see that happening, may I ask?” Davian spoke, lifting a single perfect dark brow.
“Simple,” I said. “We offer him the same home he thought he’d lost. The same comforts and confines he grew up in, but first, we have him issue a public apology. Perhaps strip him of his title until he can help rebuild and restore what he has damaged. Have the people see that he knows he made a mistake, that he wants to be better, and that he wishes for change. Samkiel always dreamed of peace between the realms. We can succeed in that. Here. Now. A stronger, more fortified union between us all.”
“You are all fools!” Koa slammed his fist on the table, lightning crackling across his knuckles. Thunder clapped from the power roiling beneath his skin, and one by one the gods in the room looked to him, their eyes burning brighter with silver flames. Koa did not meet their gaze, nor mine, remaining focused only on Nismera. I gave her credit. She didn’t so much as flinch. “And you have sentenced us and this world to death.” Koa’s head swung to me, not in anger but sadness tinted with the same fear I felt earlier. “You cannot bribe love. You cannot bury it. He did not lose a tryst, and there are no words, jewels, crowns, or flesh you can force on him that he will accept in her place. Losing an amata does not just fracture the heart but the soul, and you all have let her strip the World Ender’s away in a violent public act of retribution.”
“Koa,” I said, drawing the old god’s gaze toward me. “The council’s decisions were made by all of us here. Your brethren as well. We can discuss Nismera’s methods, but you are speaking of Samkiel. He may lash out, perhaps, but he is level-headed. He—”
Koa snickered, but it held no humor. “I have no need to mince words or be corrected. You already know what he will do as a result of her methods. Nismera already stated it. He won’t lie down. He won’t weep. He won’t get over this, and no matter what we decide here, I doubt any of us, even together, can actually destroy him. If he ever leaves that tower, Arcelia will not be the only thing that ends. So shall we.”
He stood and pushed his chair out of his way with a flick of his wrist before storming out, the two strongest of his yeyras following. To my surprise, none of the gods followed him, but Neth’s eyes did linger on the doors as they closed behind him.
“And the throne?” Neth asked, cutting her eyes to Nismera. “If Athos’s plan works, would you gladly give it up if he chooses to stay and rule?”
Nismera blinked, staring at the dark-haired goddess. “If,” she enunciated, “if that were to happen, I suppose we’d invoke ignesai and see who survives.”
I hope the shock that struck me at her words didn’t show on my face. I never thought Nismera would invoke ignesai. It was one of our oldest customs. The last colosseum we had for such battles had long since fallen, and I was unsure if we had a place that could contain such a duel, especially between these two colossal beings of power. It served a purpose in history, squashing disputes between gods over who was more worthy of ascension. Blood was always spilled, limbs lost, bodies maimed, and the most violent ended in death. The one who lived was deemed the heir, and they would claim their crown. It wasn’t invoked often since most rulers stepped down willingly, not wishing to risk limb, death, or embarrassment should they fail.
“Swear to it,” Neth said.
“What?” Nismera cut a glare sharper than any blade.
“Swear you will uphold ignesai if he stays. Swear before the council.”
Nismera’s lip rose in a silent snarl. I would have missed it if I weren’t looking directly at her, but I was no fool. I knew she hated even the possibility of the throne belonging to anyone but herself, even if ignesai was what she offered, but she also needed the council and the gods on her side.
“I swear,” she said, all fine, poised venom. “To this council and the queen who wears the crown. Happy?”
Neth, to my surprise, did not snap back. Instead, she squared her shoulders and leaned back in her chair, her eyes fixed on Nismera. “Delighted.” Then Neth turned toward me. “Then I am in favor of your plan, my queen. You have my vote.”
“And mine,” Othello spoke next.
One after another voiced their agreement until every god and goddess in the chamber had spoken.
“Then it is settled.” I interlaced my fingers on the table before me as I met every eye in here, and when no one interjected, I continued, “Now we will move on to the next item of business. This, too, will require a council vote. It is regarding the Ig’Morruthen brought in with him.”
The room turned its focus to our next topic. The tension created by my words and Koa’s outburst remained, but it was the cold fury radiating down the long length of the table that clogged the air. Nismera’s eyes were devoid of emotion as they sliced from god to god. She didn’t speak, listening with a forced smile and a false calm, but I knew her far too well. All that had happened here with the council had only solidified whatever nefarious plan she had. The most terrifying part was that she would undoubtedly succeed.
Out of the corner of my eye, the edge of dark, feathered wings fluttered and disappeared from the balcony’s ledge.
PRESENT REALITY
Arcelia
Day had turned to night before I dismissed them all and went back to my personal chambers. As soon as the thick double doors of my suite closed, I leaned back against them and sighed. My hands rose, running through my hair as I wiped away the glamour Kryella applied daily for me. The strands grew until the ends tickled the small of my back, lustrous and as silver as the moon itself.
The twinkling lights of the delicate chandelier cast a warm glow over the plush, comfortable furniture. The sound of armored boots against the stone floor startled me, and I pushed away from the door. I flared my awareness through the suite and strode further into my home, preparing to destroy whoever dared to invade my space. Following the sound of clinking delicate glass, surprise had me skidding to a halt just inside the kitchen. Nismera tossed me a gleeful smirk as she twisted the top off a tall bottle and poured the shimmering liquid into two glasses.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, and what are we celebrating?”
Her eyes met mine, and I could see the victorious joy in her gaze. “Why? Only the fact that, at long last, one of my life’s missions has been completed. I killed Ayla Deyanira.” She paused and tipped her head back, her silver hair an exact match for mine, a startling contrast of femininity against the harsh lines of her armor. She smirked toward the ceiling and closed her eyes with a contented sigh. “It feels really good, you know?”
“Because the prophecy is complete?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest.
She giggled, and the sound was shocking. Ayla’s death brought her true joy. “The fates did say my reign would be secured once that bitch was dust, and guess what? She is.”
“You are forgetting one thing. Samkiel will never let us conquer past the stars. You’re a fool to think he would. You should have killed him, too,” I said.
Nismera chuckled. “I so love when that perfect crown of yours slips, but in my defense, I was not aware Oblivion was so entwined within him. I was caught off guard. It won’t happen again.” Nismera winked and pushed one of the glasses filled with the purple liquid she’d poured toward me before taking a drink of hers. I didn’t reach for it, and her eyes cut to it, then to me. I was no fool, and it would be monumentally foolish to accept venom from a viper. The smile that curved her lips made her perfect face seem almost angelic. If it weren’t for the bitch living beneath her skin, I might have even believed it.
“Oh, don’t make that face,” she cooed. “You think I’d poison my own mother? How cruel do you think I am?”
The one truth ricocheted across the room. The one Unir, Zaysn, and I buried. A weapon was needed for what was to come, and we made one. Not in the coming together of flesh, but with magic and blood.
I let out a long, controlled breath. “You snuck in too quickly. You should have waited until all the guards and gods retired.”
Nismera swiped the glass off the counter and took a step forward. She shoved it in my hands as she walked past, the edge of her blue cape dancing against my ankles.
“Please. My warships are hidden, and no one saw me.”
I followed her into the room where she plopped down onto the long settee and kicked up one armored boot, resting the other on the edge of the circular stone firepit table. The purple liquid in the glass she gave me shimmered as I swirled it and took a seat across from her.
She watched me over the flames, the firelight casting her silver eyes aglow and sparking against the flash of red as she waited. I didn’t break eye contact as I raised the glass to my lips and took a sip. She chuckled before she, too, drank. A challenge. It’s always a challenge with her.
Crossing one leg over the other, I adjusted the long gown across my bare thigh. Even with the flames between us, the room grew colder. “I think it’s a ruse. I can feel his power from here, and I already know he won’t kneel for this realm. But perhaps, with a small push, they will slay him, and I will remain the martyr queen.”
“Then we both win.” Nismera smiled.
“More or less,” I said, taking another small sip. “We can speak tomorrow, after it’s done, about payment to rebuild your warships. The Eye, the war, was a great ruse to help you build the forces we needed for this. Plus, it’s a fantastic distraction while we lay battle plans for the sovereigns. I had hoped both Samkiel and Ayla would have died beyond the realms, but we work with what we have, I suppose.”
Nismera waved her perfectly shaped nails, the jewels on her wrist gleaming. “Samkiel’s return was perfect. We always knew he’d eventually rebel, and now his rebellion will put us more in line with the people. They won’t even question the amount of material or resources needed for war beyond our horizons. Let your plan fail. He’s very sensitive about his whore. Taunt him with it. He’ll snap, and then I’ll show up tomorrow to save you and become the hero they wish for. Just make sure you have a lot of witnesses. They need to see he is as untamable as the beast he took to his bed. Then we slowly start speaking of threats beyond our walls, and the people will eat it up out of fear for themselves. Gods reunited and—”
“My crown rightfully on top of your head,” I said, finishing her thought.
“Yes.” She smiled.
What a long con we had managed. One where the final goal was to have every realm on our side when we finally departed this place and returned to our true home. Unir had been a fool to dismiss the truth when he learned of it. Even if I lied and said I’d created the goddess before me to bring about change, looking into her silver eyes, there was no doubt I’d bred my true intentions into her. Now here was my daughter, who could help me achieve the objective many of us sought, and with the medallion, we could leave the same way our forefathers arrived here. Leave here, and then we’d claim the stars beyond. Nismera wasn’t wrong. This was better. A common enemy would unite those who dared to question our motives. If they saw Nismera as a savior and Samkiel as a pariah, it would be easier to lead them by the hand than to use a leash. A deep sigh left me as I glanced at the stars glittering in the night sky.
“I have grown tired of carrying it, and with Blayne’s and your union, they will accept it gleefully. You’ve rid the world of Ig’Morruthens, and now we’ll wipe the Otherworld clean at last. Go
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by:
Kensington Publishing Corp.
900 Third Avenue
New York, NY 10022
kensingtonbooks.com
Copyright © 2026 by Amber Nicole
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Without limiting the author’s and publisher’s exclusive rights, any unauthorized use of this publication to train generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies is expressly prohibited.
All Kensington titles, imprints, and distributed lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotions, premiums, fundraising, educational, or institutional use.
Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington sales manager: Kensington Publishing Corp., 900 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10022, attn: Sales Department; phone 1-800-221-2647.
The K with book logo Reg US Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN 978-1-4967-6564-2 (trade paperback)
First Kensington trade paperback printing: December 2026
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Printed in the United States of America
Electronic edition 978-1-5161-1278-4 (ebook)
Map design by Dewi Hargreaves
Chapter illustrations by Marta Riva (Marta Into The Forest)
Interior design by Cassandra Farrin
The authorized representative in the EU for product safety and compliance is eucomply OU, Parnu mnt 139b-14, Apt 123
Tallinn, Berlin 11317, [email protected]
The gods are alive.
That wasn’t the only thing that tumbled through my mind. Yes, I’d known returning to the realms would be treacherous, but it was worse than I could have ever imagined. I’d known that convincing those who had sworn fealty to me that my wife was not a monster was going to be a task, but it was nothing compared to the reaction I got from those who turned up their noses at the mere sight of her. Nismera’s reign was like a poison through the cosmos, seeping into every vein and slowly rotting every living thing it touched. We weren’t simply trying to gather forces and rebuild an army. We were trying to save them, and instead of listening, they took one look at Dianna and saw it as proof of Nismera’s lies. Was it foolish to continue to try even as they willingly drowned themselves in fear and the promise of a better world that would never be realized? Perhaps. Or maybe it was simply infernal hope, and gods, what a wicked thing that was.
No matter our efforts, the universe continued to spit in our faces, throwing obstacles, threats, and foes at us, threatening what little peace we had managed to carve for ourselves. The upheaval all around us was echoed within myself. Without my ring, Oblivion was growing restless and volatile. I feared if I could not find another to replace the one Nismera had stolen from me, my power would eventually break the confines of my tenuous control and unleash destruction across the realms.
Although, I had proven that, given the right circumstances, I was not above utilizing it. It seemed that I had no remorse when using it in defense of Dianna, and I had not hesitated to deploy Oblivion to slay my brother. He had turned my akrai, stealing her mortality, and then he had used her sister as a leash to control her for centuries before finally killing Gabby. He had stolen Dianna’s life and then he had destroyed the only thing that had kept her in the light, and I felt nothing but satisfaction in his death. But the universe once more had a different plan, and Death intervened. He brought Kaden back to life, and as if that weren’t enough, he tied Dianna’s life to Kaden’s and Isaiah’s, forging a bond that even with all of my strength, I could not break. His demand was simple. He wanted us working together, and to make sure we complied, he ensured that if one of them died, all three of them died.
Once created, the bond began to bare hidden truths. Kaden and Isaiah were forced to face Nismera’s betrayal of not only themselves but her Legion. Discovering she was part Ig’Morruthen shook the foundations of their reality and sent them spiraling into a world of doubt and uncertainty. For Nismera, it was business as usual, using lies and manipulations to continue to slip her venom into the realms. It reached the King of the Otherworld, and his attack led to one of my worst fears. Dianna’s capture only aggravated the power festering inside of me, begging to be free. And no longer was it chained by a ring crafted at the will of my lying father. Now, the only thing between Oblivion and the realms was the thin, frayed grip of my will.
I used to think the worst day of my life was the fall of Rashearim, when I watched my home crack and burn. I watched those I called friends and family turn foe. They raged and fought for my death, my father’s annihilation. I locked myself away for a thousand years because of that guilt and the burden of the shame. That loss. But it was not true loss, not in the slightest. The worst pain imaginable was watching the one you love more than anything in the world slip between your fingers as they turned to nothing but ash.
I thought I had a purpose coming back to the realms. I thought it was my duty, my honor, to save them. This was an opportunity to reinstate and uphold the justice my father had introduced. I wanted to restore the realms to the beauty I remembered, but with the loss of Dianna … I couldn’t remember why. I supposed, I should have been grateful that the gods showed up at the height of my grief and the resultant destruction. Cameron and I were captured, and I couldn’t bring myself to care all that much. All I knew was …
The gods are alive. For now.
—Samkiel
PRESENT REALITY
Arcelia
Light spilled from the opening behind me, casting the large stone table aglow. Numerous cities and landscapes flowed atop it, all controlled by the exquisitely elegant power Kryella conducted like fine music. Emerald magic swirled in graceful streams as the scene changed. Raging tornadoes and howling, violent winds decimated everything in their paths, digging deep into the planet and changing the topography forever. This was all that remained of the once-proud realm of Pheher, the world Nismera had called home. It was now a planet of endless, brutal storms, rife with Oblivion.
With a flick of Kryella’s fingers, the scene disappeared, its magical surface inert and unassuming. Power pressed against the walls of the room, radiating from the many beings barking at each other like hounds. The council room was full of gods and goddesses, called together to once again speak of the realms. Only this time, it was regarding the most recent violent act by not a foe but one of their most treasured. The high gold-and-cream stone ceilings trembled with the effort to contain their outrage. Some sat, others stood, loudly voicing their thoughts and opinions.
My back remained straight, hands folded in my lap as I sat at the head of the table, looking out the open terrace doors. Kryella sat next to me, and I saw her glance at me from the corner of my eye. I was not gazing at the clouds as they rose and drifted past, but at what lay beyond. The mist constantly shifted and separated to reveal the floating, heavily guarded tower. The smooth, shimmering stone reflected the light of the sun, with guards standing at every entry point. They clutched swords and spears of the purest silver so tightly that even from here, I could see the tension that gripped them. What they were guarding frightened not only the most seasoned warriors but the gods themselves.
A smooth hand ran across mine, jarring me from the growing power I could feel thrumming even from here. Like a sleeping, massive entity yet to open its eyes and feast, power rolled from it in thick, dark waves, emanating effortlessly from the god trapped within the tower and reverberating through me to my very marrow.
“It is secured, my queen. He is,” Kryella said, smiling at me. I knew he was. She had reinforced the runes that ran from ceiling to floor, both within and outside of his prison, with magic so ancient and primordial that it rivaled even Unir’s power. After all, she was the one who helped craft the Ring of Oblivion. If anything living could temper that horrendous power, it was Kryella.
“I know,” I said and forced a smile for my oldest and most trusted friend, even as an icy chill ran up my spine.
“With all due respect, none of you were there. Kryella showed you the destruction left in the wake of Oblivion, but you didn’t experience the storms he created. The wind sounded like a howling beast. It was so violent that even the people it didn’t snatch from the ground and rip apart, it skinned alive before turning them into nothing,” Nismera said, her voice rising above the others. “Yet we have him imprisoned here, and I use that word lightly. Kryella is continually feeding the runes to keep him contained in that tower.”
“I can envision the damage you saw. His father, with help of course, designed and crafted that ring to contain such devastation.” Othello rubbed his brow, obviously having grown weary of the council meeting that had started at dawn and was pushing into the late afternoon.
“Unfortunately,” Neth added. “He has discovered that he doesn’t need a ring to wield Oblivion. He now knows it is a part of him. Uncontrollable destructive power is built into his very cells, and even we do not fully understand what that means.”
“It means Samkiel has inherited far more power and rage than his father ever had,” Wren interjected, casting a long glance at Nismera. “Rage you coaxed out of him.”
Nismera rested her finely manicured fingers against her chest in mock shock. “Me? I only did what all of you wished, did I not? Her execution was put to a council vote. The council voted. It was decided. I simply executed.”
Silence slowly fell as they looked at one another, then at me. I tipped my head, chairs moving as one by one they slowly sat.
“Yes,” I answered, the pressure in the room subsiding a fraction. “But perhaps a little more tact would have been prudent. Instead, from your report, she was dragged through the streets like a beaten mongrel.”
A satisfied glint flashed in Nismera’s eyes as she stared at me. We were at opposite ends of the table, she and I, but our wants and goals aligned. We had the same drive and ambition, and none around this table seemed to be the wiser. It was a secret that died with Unir and festered with Kryella and me.
“The council never decreed she had to be intact.” Nismera rested her hands along the arms of her chair, the silver chains draped over her armored shoulders swaying with the movement.
“Wren is correct in his assessment. You purposely coaxed Oblivion out of him,” I said.
Nismera shrugged off my accusation. “Perhaps. Or perhaps, it was finally to show you, all of you, the savior you so helplessly fawn over is no better than the man who ruled before him or the creatures he made and called his sons.” Nismera paused, allowing the murmurs to build before going on. “I did what the council asked, what you demanded, to show my allegiance to you,” her eyes sliced like daggers around the table before returning to me, “to this council, to these realms. Perhaps I was disillusioned over the loss of the throne I was promised. Perhaps I overstretched in my desire to reclaim my birthright, but I came willingly when we all realized what and who were the actual threats, and my Legion and I were nearly slaughtered for it.”
Nismera was beautiful, and her intelligence was beyond contestation. Her words were pretty and engaging, and she used them not as a weapon, but as an insidious poison that tasted sweet. As a result, a majority of the council was eager to fall to their knees before her, Blayne most obviously. Even Koa, who never agreed with Nismera, never forgot what she had done, knew she spoke the truth of what was at stake. So allegiances, as she so plainly put it, were formed because no matter what Nismera had done, she was still a god to them, an equal, and Ayla Deyanira was not.
“We need to make a decision,” Blayne said. “Samkiel’s crimes must not go unpunished. The people beg for it. If they see that one of us can fall and decimate a world without consequence, their belief and trust in us will be lost. If that happens, we lose the grip we have on them.”
A chorus of agreement rose into the air.
“I vote for execution,” Nismera declared, having no trouble being heard over all the voices.
Everyone fell silent, but I saw a few around the table nodding. Nismera once more let her hatred for her brother spill from her lips. Execution would normally have been the last thing they’d agree to. At most, they would have insisted upon a public punishment and shaming, out in the open for all to witness, but death would have been the furthest thing from their minds. Samkiel was their king and, above that, their kin. The act of murdering their own was a vile offense, especially after so many were lost in the Gods War.
“You overreach, Nismera. You wish for us to publicly execute one of our own?” I asked, tipping my head to the side. Challenge received and challenge met.
“What other option do you have?” she asked. “I know what I am suggesting, but the people of these realms are screaming for retribution. Do you know how many he slaughtered—”
“You mean the ones you invited to the public execution of his mate? Tell me, what outcome did you expect from the World Ender?” Koa interjected.
A vast majority of the other gods nodded in agreement, but I could tell at a glance that even now, Nismera had loyalists in our midst who were not in his favor.
Nismera turned toward him, her smile bordering on condescending. “Has age made it hard for you to pay attention in council meetings? We already spoke of this. I was getting rid of a growing threat we all agreed needed to be taken care of.”
“I did not vote for that outcome,” Koa sneered, ignoring her insult.
“No,” she said. “But a vast majority of this council did, and I took that responsibility. I told you all that I am on your side. You asked for proof, and I gave it, putting my Legion at risk. I saw what could destroy not only us but realms beyond. Now you can see it too. Samkiel has always been a weapon ready to detonate, and now you see his lack of care for those he sought to rule. I have apologized here on this council repeatedly for my transgressions, but what is civil unrest between gods?” She placed a hand over the space a heart would be if she had been born with one. “My challenges were always for my crown, not the end of all of you. Those who came for my throat were slaughtered in self-defense. Him? If he gains his freedom, he will slaughter the lot of us to avenge the creature he bedded. You are foolish to think otherwise. And who, I ask, will stop him? Shall I leave? I can take my warships and Legion, and then we will see how well you all fare when the World Ender finally shows you how fitting it is that he bears that name.”
Murmurs started once more, filling the air as an emotion I had not felt from the gods in this room leaked toward the floor. Fear. It was my turn to gather the room’s attention. I stood, clasping my hands in front of me as every set of silver eyes turned toward me.
“He is still one of us, regardless of what transpired three days ago. He is a god the public has viewed and cherished for eons. Statues of him still grace the great halls. If we wish to sow peace and settle unrest, we can have that.” I emphasized.
I saw Nismera’s jaw set in irritation, so much like the father who created her. I paid her no mind as I turned to each member of the council.
“Killing him, I fear, will only prove more unrest than we’ve already faced, Nismera. Your suggestion is overruled. Not only that, but it would show them that it can be done. Our blood built and crafted these realms, but this kingdom and throne exist on the backs of our people. You spill our blood in these streets, and those who have wished for our heads will slither from their pits to devour us. Samkiel has been, and remains, a great asset not only to the throne and crown but also to the people. A pillar of hope, strength, and justice. We take that away, and they will turn on us. Then who would we rule? Ourselves?”
“He betrayed us. Worked with enemies older than some gods and goddesses in this room,” Othello said, his voice raised as he pointed at me.
“I don’t see betrayal. He did not attempt to usurp the throne while he was here. If anything, he avoided it all in another act of rebellion that we all long ago grew tired of. Likely, he will grieve, he will mourn, and like his father, he will move on and focus on the realms.”
A scoff interrupted me as Koa placed his hands on his head.
My lips formed into a thin line before I forced them into a humble smile. “I know the last few days have been challenging for us all, but I do think peace, especially now, can be reached.”
“And how do you see that happening, may I ask?” Davian spoke, lifting a single perfect dark brow.
“Simple,” I said. “We offer him the same home he thought he’d lost. The same comforts and confines he grew up in, but first, we have him issue a public apology. Perhaps strip him of his title until he can help rebuild and restore what he has damaged. Have the people see that he knows he made a mistake, that he wants to be better, and that he wishes for change. Samkiel always dreamed of peace between the realms. We can succeed in that. Here. Now. A stronger, more fortified union between us all.”
“You are all fools!” Koa slammed his fist on the table, lightning crackling across his knuckles. Thunder clapped from the power roiling beneath his skin, and one by one the gods in the room looked to him, their eyes burning brighter with silver flames. Koa did not meet their gaze, nor mine, remaining focused only on Nismera. I gave her credit. She didn’t so much as flinch. “And you have sentenced us and this world to death.” Koa’s head swung to me, not in anger but sadness tinted with the same fear I felt earlier. “You cannot bribe love. You cannot bury it. He did not lose a tryst, and there are no words, jewels, crowns, or flesh you can force on him that he will accept in her place. Losing an amata does not just fracture the heart but the soul, and you all have let her strip the World Ender’s away in a violent public act of retribution.”
“Koa,” I said, drawing the old god’s gaze toward me. “The council’s decisions were made by all of us here. Your brethren as well. We can discuss Nismera’s methods, but you are speaking of Samkiel. He may lash out, perhaps, but he is level-headed. He—”
Koa snickered, but it held no humor. “I have no need to mince words or be corrected. You already know what he will do as a result of her methods. Nismera already stated it. He won’t lie down. He won’t weep. He won’t get over this, and no matter what we decide here, I doubt any of us, even together, can actually destroy him. If he ever leaves that tower, Arcelia will not be the only thing that ends. So shall we.”
He stood and pushed his chair out of his way with a flick of his wrist before storming out, the two strongest of his yeyras following. To my surprise, none of the gods followed him, but Neth’s eyes did linger on the doors as they closed behind him.
“And the throne?” Neth asked, cutting her eyes to Nismera. “If Athos’s plan works, would you gladly give it up if he chooses to stay and rule?”
Nismera blinked, staring at the dark-haired goddess. “If,” she enunciated, “if that were to happen, I suppose we’d invoke ignesai and see who survives.”
I hope the shock that struck me at her words didn’t show on my face. I never thought Nismera would invoke ignesai. It was one of our oldest customs. The last colosseum we had for such battles had long since fallen, and I was unsure if we had a place that could contain such a duel, especially between these two colossal beings of power. It served a purpose in history, squashing disputes between gods over who was more worthy of ascension. Blood was always spilled, limbs lost, bodies maimed, and the most violent ended in death. The one who lived was deemed the heir, and they would claim their crown. It wasn’t invoked often since most rulers stepped down willingly, not wishing to risk limb, death, or embarrassment should they fail.
“Swear to it,” Neth said.
“What?” Nismera cut a glare sharper than any blade.
“Swear you will uphold ignesai if he stays. Swear before the council.”
Nismera’s lip rose in a silent snarl. I would have missed it if I weren’t looking directly at her, but I was no fool. I knew she hated even the possibility of the throne belonging to anyone but herself, even if ignesai was what she offered, but she also needed the council and the gods on her side.
“I swear,” she said, all fine, poised venom. “To this council and the queen who wears the crown. Happy?”
Neth, to my surprise, did not snap back. Instead, she squared her shoulders and leaned back in her chair, her eyes fixed on Nismera. “Delighted.” Then Neth turned toward me. “Then I am in favor of your plan, my queen. You have my vote.”
“And mine,” Othello spoke next.
One after another voiced their agreement until every god and goddess in the chamber had spoken.
“Then it is settled.” I interlaced my fingers on the table before me as I met every eye in here, and when no one interjected, I continued, “Now we will move on to the next item of business. This, too, will require a council vote. It is regarding the Ig’Morruthen brought in with him.”
The room turned its focus to our next topic. The tension created by my words and Koa’s outburst remained, but it was the cold fury radiating down the long length of the table that clogged the air. Nismera’s eyes were devoid of emotion as they sliced from god to god. She didn’t speak, listening with a forced smile and a false calm, but I knew her far too well. All that had happened here with the council had only solidified whatever nefarious plan she had. The most terrifying part was that she would undoubtedly succeed.
Out of the corner of my eye, the edge of dark, feathered wings fluttered and disappeared from the balcony’s ledge.
PRESENT REALITY
Arcelia
Day had turned to night before I dismissed them all and went back to my personal chambers. As soon as the thick double doors of my suite closed, I leaned back against them and sighed. My hands rose, running through my hair as I wiped away the glamour Kryella applied daily for me. The strands grew until the ends tickled the small of my back, lustrous and as silver as the moon itself.
The twinkling lights of the delicate chandelier cast a warm glow over the plush, comfortable furniture. The sound of armored boots against the stone floor startled me, and I pushed away from the door. I flared my awareness through the suite and strode further into my home, preparing to destroy whoever dared to invade my space. Following the sound of clinking delicate glass, surprise had me skidding to a halt just inside the kitchen. Nismera tossed me a gleeful smirk as she twisted the top off a tall bottle and poured the shimmering liquid into two glasses.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, and what are we celebrating?”
Her eyes met mine, and I could see the victorious joy in her gaze. “Why? Only the fact that, at long last, one of my life’s missions has been completed. I killed Ayla Deyanira.” She paused and tipped her head back, her silver hair an exact match for mine, a startling contrast of femininity against the harsh lines of her armor. She smirked toward the ceiling and closed her eyes with a contented sigh. “It feels really good, you know?”
“Because the prophecy is complete?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest.
She giggled, and the sound was shocking. Ayla’s death brought her true joy. “The fates did say my reign would be secured once that bitch was dust, and guess what? She is.”
“You are forgetting one thing. Samkiel will never let us conquer past the stars. You’re a fool to think he would. You should have killed him, too,” I said.
Nismera chuckled. “I so love when that perfect crown of yours slips, but in my defense, I was not aware Oblivion was so entwined within him. I was caught off guard. It won’t happen again.” Nismera winked and pushed one of the glasses filled with the purple liquid she’d poured toward me before taking a drink of hers. I didn’t reach for it, and her eyes cut to it, then to me. I was no fool, and it would be monumentally foolish to accept venom from a viper. The smile that curved her lips made her perfect face seem almost angelic. If it weren’t for the bitch living beneath her skin, I might have even believed it.
“Oh, don’t make that face,” she cooed. “You think I’d poison my own mother? How cruel do you think I am?”
The one truth ricocheted across the room. The one Unir, Zaysn, and I buried. A weapon was needed for what was to come, and we made one. Not in the coming together of flesh, but with magic and blood.
I let out a long, controlled breath. “You snuck in too quickly. You should have waited until all the guards and gods retired.”
Nismera swiped the glass off the counter and took a step forward. She shoved it in my hands as she walked past, the edge of her blue cape dancing against my ankles.
“Please. My warships are hidden, and no one saw me.”
I followed her into the room where she plopped down onto the long settee and kicked up one armored boot, resting the other on the edge of the circular stone firepit table. The purple liquid in the glass she gave me shimmered as I swirled it and took a seat across from her.
She watched me over the flames, the firelight casting her silver eyes aglow and sparking against the flash of red as she waited. I didn’t break eye contact as I raised the glass to my lips and took a sip. She chuckled before she, too, drank. A challenge. It’s always a challenge with her.
Crossing one leg over the other, I adjusted the long gown across my bare thigh. Even with the flames between us, the room grew colder. “I think it’s a ruse. I can feel his power from here, and I already know he won’t kneel for this realm. But perhaps, with a small push, they will slay him, and I will remain the martyr queen.”
“Then we both win.” Nismera smiled.
“More or less,” I said, taking another small sip. “We can speak tomorrow, after it’s done, about payment to rebuild your warships. The Eye, the war, was a great ruse to help you build the forces we needed for this. Plus, it’s a fantastic distraction while we lay battle plans for the sovereigns. I had hoped both Samkiel and Ayla would have died beyond the realms, but we work with what we have, I suppose.”
Nismera waved her perfectly shaped nails, the jewels on her wrist gleaming. “Samkiel’s return was perfect. We always knew he’d eventually rebel, and now his rebellion will put us more in line with the people. They won’t even question the amount of material or resources needed for war beyond our horizons. Let your plan fail. He’s very sensitive about his whore. Taunt him with it. He’ll snap, and then I’ll show up tomorrow to save you and become the hero they wish for. Just make sure you have a lot of witnesses. They need to see he is as untamable as the beast he took to his bed. Then we slowly start speaking of threats beyond our walls, and the people will eat it up out of fear for themselves. Gods reunited and—”
“My crown rightfully on top of your head,” I said, finishing her thought.
“Yes.” She smiled.
What a long con we had managed. One where the final goal was to have every realm on our side when we finally departed this place and returned to our true home. Unir had been a fool to dismiss the truth when he learned of it. Even if I lied and said I’d created the goddess before me to bring about change, looking into her silver eyes, there was no doubt I’d bred my true intentions into her. Now here was my daughter, who could help me achieve the objective many of us sought, and with the medallion, we could leave the same way our forefathers arrived here. Leave here, and then we’d claim the stars beyond. Nismera wasn’t wrong. This was better. A common enemy would unite those who dared to question our motives. If they saw Nismera as a savior and Samkiel as a pariah, it would be easier to lead them by the hand than to use a leash. A deep sigh left me as I glanced at the stars glittering in the night sky.
“I have grown tired of carrying it, and with Blayne’s and your union, they will accept it gleefully. You’ve rid the world of Ig’Morruthens, and now we’ll wipe the Otherworld clean at last. Go
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The Fall of the Crowned King
Amber V. Nicole
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