"You came for my world and you leave with nothing. You tried to destroy me—us—and you failed."
He holds his head high. "I will kill you, little girl. All of you."
He's encompassing Drusk, Titus, and Violet in one sweeping glance.
I bare my teeth. "Let me make you a promise. If you ever lay a hand on my family again, we will take yours. Not just you. Your children, and grandchildren, and their children, too. This is your last warning. Stay away from Tenebris."
He gets to his feet, tall and proud as ever, though I know Violet cut him down a thousand times, waiting for him to heal before cutting again.
That enrages me. I can't help it: I suck on his soul one last time, making him scream.
He never begs, and I hate him for it.
"There," I say. "Now your hair matches Daddy dearest's."
It’s silvery-white, rather than dark. I've drained almost every drop of his life, and the man has the gall to laugh.
"We immortals are patient," he tells me. "And one day, we'll take your pitiful kingdom."
He turns around, walking away like a king.
And we let him.
“That promise of yours was careless,” Titus tells me. “You spoke for both of your bloodlines. You may have linked your fates.”
I ignore him. There are more important matters to attend to.
As soon as the Vikus prince disappears in the darkness, I start the second ritual.
The tears. The blood. The stones. The sacrifice.
It is my grandfather I set to rest today.
And with his death, Tenebris is once again land of the unseelie fae.
Epilogue
Dursk
Vlari is the worst at keeping secrets. From me, in any case. We have a tradition of sorts, she and I. Every year, she does her best to hide her presents and party planning for my birthday, and every year, I figure it out. The first few times, it hadn’t been on purpose; I just came across whatever gift she’d stuffed in a broom closet. I must admit that the last few years, I’ve sniffed around for it, knowing how it infuriates her when I find her presents.
I haven’t found anything this year. Not in the lily pond, not on the roof, not behind the paintings in the armory.
She knows it, I can tell. The way she smirks when she enters the hall of crowns shows she knows she’s victorious.
I try not to pout.
The fact that she’s particularly gorgeous tonight, wrapped in one of Ma’am Rolo’s long gossamer gowns, so delicate I almost see through the blush fabric, would drive any man to distraction.
“Do you truly need to look at her like that?” Dornant asks, grimacing.
Dornant despises any show of affection, from anyone at all—Vlari and I more than the rest.
I ignore him. He’s a hundred and fifty now, twice the age Vlari and I were when we saved Tenebris from the human invaders, but in his entire life, he has known no sorrow, no hardship. We’ve built a world where our children have the luxury of being spoiled and naive. It’s our grandest accomplishment.
“Oh, leave Father alone, grumpy.” Rulla yet again confirms her place as my favorite child, slapping the back of her twin’s head.
I can admit that. Dornant is Vlari’s boy. Rulla’s my girl.
