Now, she seemed… so tragically imperfect. Fallible in all the same ways as us.
“It would have bloomed,” I said softly. “If he had lived. You and Alarus. Your love wouldn’t have withered.”
Nyaxia’s eyes snapped to me, like I’d startled her by speaking—like she’d gone somewhere far away, forgetting I was here at all.
For a moment, grief collapsed in her beautiful face.
Then she shuttered it behind an ice wall, pristine features going still. She snatched the vial from my hand and drew herself back up to her full height.
“I feel your pain, my child,” she said. “But I cannot grant you a Coriatis bond.”
The words obliterated me.
My skin went numb. My ears rang. I could not hear anything over the sound of my heart shattering at my goddess’s feet.
“Please—” I begged.
“I am a romantic,” she said. “It brings me no pleasure to deny you. But you and him—you were created, thousands of years ago, as enemies. Those roles are marked onto your skin. Hiaj. Rishan.”
My chest burned, my Heir Mark pulsing, as if awoken by her mention of it.
“Roles given by you,” I said, even though I knew it was stupid to argue with her— “Roles given by your forefathers,” she corrected. “Do you know why I created the Hiaj and Rishan lines? Because even before Obitraes was the land of vampires, your peoples fought. A perpetual power struggle that would never end. It is what you are meant to be. If I grant you a Coriatis bond, your hearts would become one, your lines intertwined. It would erase the Hiaj and Rishan legacy forever.”
“It would eliminate two thousand years of unrest.”
And it wasn’t until Nyaxia nodded slowly, giving me a long, hard stare, that I realized: We were saying the same thing.
Nyaxia had no interest in ending two thousand years of unrest.
Nyaxia liked her children squabbling, constantly vying over each other for her affections and favor.
Nyaxia would not grant me a Coriatis bond with Raihn, would not allow me to save his life, out of nothing but petty stubbornness.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My anger swallowed all words.
Nyaxia sensed it anyway, though, a flash of disapproval over her features. She leaned close again. “I’m handing you victory for the second time, my child. Perhaps you should simply take it. Don’t all little girls dream of being queens?”
Did you? I wanted to ask her. Did you dream of becoming this?
Instead, I rasped, “Then tell me how to save him.”
Her perfect lips thinned, another drop of blood rolling down her chin with the shift of her muscles. Her lashes lowered as she took in Raihn’s mangled body.
“He is practically already dead,” she said.
“There has to be something.”
Another indecipherable emotion over her face. Perhaps genuine pity.
She flicked a tear from my cheek.
“A Coriatis bond would save him,” she said. “But I cannot be the one to give it to you.”
She rose and turned away. I didn’t look up from Raihn’s battered features, which blurred with my unshed tears.
“Oraya of the Nightborn.”
I lifted my head.
Nyaxia stood at Simon’s broken body, nudging it with her toe.
“Treasure that flower,” she said. “No one will ever be able to hurt you again.”
And then she was gone.
No one will ever be able to hurt you again.
Her words echoed in my head as I let out the sob I’d been choking back. I leaned over Raihn, pressing my forehead to his.
His breath, ever-fading, was so weak against my lips.
I did not care that Simon was dead.
I did not care that the Rishan were retreating.
I did not care if I had won my war.
Raihn was dying in my arms.
Slow rage built in my chest.
Treasure that flower.
Perhaps you should just take it.
Spoken by someone too young to see the ugliness of its decay.
With every memory of Nyaxia’s voice, it grew hotter.
No.
No, I refused to accept it. I had come this fucking far. I had sacrificed so much. I refused to sacrifice this, too.
I refused to sacrifice him.
A Coriatis bond, Nyaxia had said. But I cannot be the one to give it to you.
The answer was right there.
A Coriatis bond could only be forged by a god. And yes, Nyaxia had denied me. But Nyaxia wasn’t the only goddess my blood called to. She was my father’s goddess.
My mother’s was just as powerful.
Crazed hope seized me. I looked up to the sky—the sky still bright and swirling with the thinning barrier between this world and the next. And maybe I imagined it—maybe I was a naive fool for it—but I could have sworn I felt the eyes of the gods on me.