A cage sat in the center of a candlelit chamber. Behind black bars, likely constructed of shadowstone, was a large, gray feline with bright green eyes fixed on Poppy—just as they had been in Oak Ambler. There was no doubt in my mind that he’d known who she was to him then. Probably had all those years ago, too.
“My gods,” gasped Nektas, his eyes widening as the skin around his mouth went taut at the sight of Ires.
The god hadn’t looked this haggard when we’d seen him last. Ribs pressed against his dull gray fur coat. His stomach was sunken. Tendons strained in his throat as his head whipped toward Nektas.
Ires reacted upon seeing the draken, jumping weakly at the bars as his still-bright eyes shot between Nektas and Poppy when they entered the chamber.
“Are these wards?” Kieran asked, noticing the markings etched into the shadowstone ceiling and floor, symbols and letters in ancient Atlantian—the language of the gods.
“Yes.” Nektas went to the bars. “No one in the mortal realm should be in possession of this knowledge.”
“Callum,” I surmised, watching Poppy kneel before the cage.
Nektas nodded. “But that’s not the issue right now.” He clasped the bars, drawing Ires’s attention, but only for a moment. “He might be a bit…unstable, especially if he’s been in this state for as long as I fear. He’ll be more animal than anything. We need to be careful.”
No one needed to tell us that as Ires kept jumping at the bars, pressing his sides and head against them as a low noise radiated from him, a sound that was a cross between a growl and a whine.
I crouched behind Poppy, forcing my hands to my knees to stop myself from grabbing her and hauling her back.
“Can you get past these bars?” Poppy asked, her hands twisting together, a sure sign she was anxious. “Or can I?”
“You will probably be able to. Eventually,” Nektas tacked on. “But I can.” He focused on Ires. “You’re safe now. I promise you,” he said to the god, voice thickening with emotion. “I just need you to stay calm. Okay?”
Ires leapt at the bars again.
“I don’t think that’s a yes,” Kieran noted, kneeling beside me.
“It’s okay,” Nektas told Ires once again, but the more the draken spoke, the more the god behaved erratically, pacing and lunging at the bars. “Dammit, he’s going to hurt himself.”
“I can barely…barely pick up anything from him.” Poppy’s worry flooded her tone, and I swore I could feel it gathering in my throat like too-thick cream. “He wasn’t like this before.”
“He’s been in this form too long,” Nektas answered. “It’s not like us,” he added, nodding at Kieran and Delano. “We are of two worlds. He is only of one, and it’s far too easy, even for a god and a Primal, to lose themselves if they stay in their animal form for too long.”
Shit. How long was too long for a god when we were likely talking about hundreds of years? But another thought occurred to me. He’d said if a god and a Primal stayed in their animal form for too long. Did that mean Poppy would…？
I shook my head. Now wasn’t the time to consider that. Rubbing Poppy’s back, I watched Ires pace, hating this for her—for both of them.
“I didn’t know that,” Poppy responded to what Nektas had shared.
“Neither did I,” Kieran added.
“And on top of that, he’s probably felt the other gods awakening,” Nektas explained. “It would feel like an extreme jolt of energy that he would not have been prepared for.”
Kieran rose as Ires pressed against the bars in front of us. “I can try to distract him while you—dammit, Poppy.”
A wicked sense of déjà vu swept through me as Poppy lurched forward. I reached for her, but dammit, she was fast when she wanted to be—and even faster now.
“Poppy,” I shouted as she crouched and thrust her hand through the bars. “Don’t—”
Too late.
Her hand was already pressed against the side of Ires’s throat by the time I curled an arm around her waist. Ires swung his head back, lips peeling back over sharp fucking canines. A low growl of warning radiated from him. I started to haul Poppy’s ass back. She would be pissed, but I’d rather her be angry at me than experience exactly what happened when a Primal lost a hand.
“It’s okay,” she said, inhaling deeply. “Just give me a second. Please.”
I didn’t want to, but she’d said please. Still, it took everything in me to keep from grabbing her again. The only reason I didn’t fail was because Poppy succeeded.
Ires shuddered, the low snarl fading as he stood there, panting. I knew what she was doing, feeding good thoughts and emotions into the god. Calming him.
The first time she’d done that to me, I hadn’t known what she could do. The relief—the peace—she had given me had been quick and stunning. A gift. Still, I wanted her pretty hand as far away from Ires as it could get. I liked her hands and the things she was learning to do with them.
Poppy’s eyes were half-closed as Delano pressed against her side, his stare wary, watchful, and pinned on Ires. “It’s okay. Just give him a few seconds.”
“Whatever you’re going to do with these bars…” Kieran said to Nektas, a dagger in hand—one I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to use. “I suggest you do it quick.”
“Working on it.” Nektas stepped back from the bars.
A tremor went through Ires. His fur stood on end, and Poppy kept her hand on him as he lowered to his belly. His ears twitched. A bright blue flare came from our right, lighting the chamber—draken fire. Nektas hadn’t shifted. I figured we would’ve been aware of a huge-ass draken in the chamber if he had. I was curious, but I didn’t dare take my eyes off Ires and Poppy.
Ires began trembling as the scent of heated metal filled the air. Silvery light appeared in his eyes, spreading. His fur retracted and faded as patches of golden skin appeared. Muscles shrank, and bones cracked into different positions. Long, russet-colored hair appeared—hair damn near as long as Nektas’s. I folded my other arm around Poppy, holding her tightly as her father struggled through the transition. It appeared as if he were fighting it. Or maybe the animal in him was. The process likely took less than a minute, but it looked painful, unlike when Kieran and the others shifted. It was as if he felt every claw sink back into his nailbeds.
Another ripple of shimmering light swept over him, and then, a male appeared in the cage where the large feline had been. He was on his knees, his upper body tucked into his lower half. Through clumps of unwashed hair, he stared at Poppy’s hand resting on what turned out to be his shoulder.
Poppy lifted her hand, her fingers curling inward as she drew her arm back. She tightly gripped the arm I’d put around her waist. “Hi,” she whispered.
The god’s bright green eyes locked with Poppy’s. Eyes that were almost identical to hers. The silvery glow in his, just behind the pupils, was faint. Much of his face was hidden, but what I could see was all sharp angles and sunken planes. He shook.
“I don’t know if you…if you remember me at all,” Poppy began. She was trembling, too. I held onto her. “But my name is Poppy—well, it’s Penellaphe, but my friends call me Poppy. I’m your…” She trailed off, her breath catching. I ran my hand over her side, squeezing her.