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“I have seen the future, and it is magnificent,” Barron boomed. “The old gods are dead.”

“You have Devani gods in your gardens!” she cried. “You still worship them, I’ve seen it!”

Barron paused. “Those are relics. Unfortunately, my wife insists on keeping them. And she’s a hard female to say no to. Now, let’s get this over with,” he sighed, boredom seeping into his tone. “I have a kingdom to rule. Until you come to your senses, we will keep you in a suspended state, siphoning your power over to Lady Hydrafort.”

Kora clawed at the ground, dragging her weakened body away from Blake, his green eyes burning once again as he knelt, vines trapping her in place on top of a small collection of boulders.

Her back cracked against the sharp edges, her skin slicing open, and the soil-like dust on his fingers spread to his knuckles as he conjured his power. Kora sobbed and whimpered. She couldn’t go back to that state again.

No, no, no, no!Panic seized her, her mind erupting. “NO!”

Bree watched beside Barron, a ruthless smile pasted on her full lips.

Blake gently placed a hand on Kora’s healed shoulder, and she froze under his touch. It was soft, gentle, and reminded her too much of the male he used to be. Sadness coursed through his stare, and her shattered heart fell apart, the pieces flying to the furthest corners of the world. “Things could have been different.” And then he blinked, replacing it with cold detachment.

Every inch of her life drained, seeping into him. This close, she could see a greenish light flicker in his veins—her life force. Her skin sagged once again, turning leathery and wrinkled before decomposing as her organs shrivelled, her bones protruding, pores shrinking, eyes crusting.

The pain was immeasurable.

A wrenching scream tore from her collapsing lungs, scratching up her atrophying vocal cords and past her sunken lips as the agony burned her alive.

“I told youasterya,” Blake murmured quietly. “When I finally took you, I’d make you scream.”

She screamed and screamed as he absorbed her life into his hands, suspending her into a prison of his own making. Trapped forever.

As her grasp on reality fell through her withered fingertips, Kora emitted one final flare of hope—a beacon to the only person she knew could listen.

“Raiden . . . please help me.”

Epilogue

Raiden

Kordelia was alive.

She was gods-damned alive, and he’d nearly wept with fucking joy at the sight of her. She’d looked fearless—like a goddess, tearing her way through those forsaken soldiers.

He nearly took her right there and then on that deck.

Gods, it’d been so long. Ten long fucking years trapped inside the Mist. A male could only do so much with his hand. She was still as beautiful as he remembered—but her hair was short. He didn’t mind, but it wasn’t . . .her.

And that scar.

Anger spliced through him so intensely that a torrent of wind blew through the chamber, scattering papers across the long, opal table. Sun speared through tall windows lining threerectangular walls, and cheery laughter echoed from children running in the streets outside.

The Mist had receded to the seas, and for the first time in a long time, they could feel the sun on their faces. Families had been celebrating, rejoicing.

But he couldn’t spare a single minute. Not when the Galenite War was back on the table. Literally.

“Stop brooding,” Aerion muttered, as he used his power to reorganise the papers on the shining surface.

“I’m not brooding,” Raiden snapped.

He folded his arms across his chest. He’d been planning everything he was going to do to the Talmon Empire for stealing Kordelia away from him. He’d had ten years to think about it.

But now . . . it was much worse. So much fucking worse.

He was going to kill them off one by one—slowly. Maybe Kordelia would join in. His cock twitched in his trousers at the thought of them together again, enacting their revenge.