Red-hot agony exploded as I careened backward, short-circuiting all my senses. My back hit the wall, and then I was on my ass, staring down at the iron hilt of a dagger embedded in my chest—in the same damn spot Poppy had gotten me in New Haven. Which had been a bit more than a nick of the heart.
Blood flowed from the wound, drenching my bare stomach, but my skin—fuck, I could feel it burning, peeling back from where the blade had penetrated. That pain. Fuck. I’d never felt anything like it before. My teeth gritted as it rippled through me.
The Rev spoke quietly as he bent, picking up the fallen dagger. “Bones of the Ancients. Sharper than bloodstone. Harder than shadowstone.” One golden wing lifted with his half smile. “And deadlier than both, able to kill a god with just a prick and incapacitate a Primal.”
The fucking Rev winked and rose. “Should have closed those windows, Your Highness.” He flipped the milky-white dagger.
My gaze shot to the bed.
Poppy.
Terror was an icy shock to the system, momentarily freezing the fire in my chest. I pushed to my feet—or thought I had. My brain sent the message, but my legs didn’t move. I remained slumped against the wall as the Rev chuckled, turning to the bed. I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs—any air. I couldn’t breathe.
Get up, I ordered. Get the fuck up.
Muscles twitched but didn’t respond as the Rev approached the bed. Panic crashed into terror as my mouth opened, my throat issuing no sound.
I was frozen. Couldn’t move. Voiceless. Couldn’t yell for help. I didn’t know who was in the hall—either Emil or Naill, but the walls were thick. If they stood down a ways, they wouldn’t hear shit—
Good gods, this couldn’t be happening.
Not now.
Not when we didn’t know what it felt like to have each other when the realm was at peace. Not when we hadn’t gotten the chance to know what our love was capable of—what we could create together.
Not ever.
“What a pretty little flower,” the Rev sang softly.
For a second, the scorching pain faded, replaced by the raw horror of his words as I stared at the Rev’s back. That godsdamn rhyme—Poppy had heard it for years, actual years.
“What a powerful poppy,” he said, grabbing the thin blanket.
It started low, coming from outside of me, a low hum—no, it came from within me.
“Pick it,” he continued to sing, yanking the blanket back. “And watch it bleed.”
Get up.
Nothing moved. Not a godsdamn thing as Poppy remained asleep, her features relaxed and peaceful.
“Not so powerful any longer.” The Rev reached for Poppy, grabbing a fistful of her hair—
He touched her.
He was fucking touching her, and she was completely vulnerable. My heart shattered—it had to be shattering. She was vulnerable, and she’d promised herself she would never be that again. I’d sworn I would never allow it.
I couldn’t.
I wouldn’t.
The Rev jerked her head back, exposing the back of her skull. “He’s been waiting so, so, so long for what is his.”
Like a chasm splitting open, pure, unfettered rage exploded from deep within me, but there was…there was more. Not knowledge. I was fucking beyond that. It was instinct—ancient, powerful instinct. Primal. The hum in my ears intensified and then hit my blood. My skin buzzed as I latched on to the fury. My muscles quivered as I took all that feral rage and let it pour into me, flooding every vein and filling every cell in my body until the violence tasted like ash in my mouth and became ice in my veins.
Blood full of ash and ice…
A streak of lightning tore through the sky outside, turning night to day as my arm lifted.
The Rev’s head jerked to the window as another bolt lit up the realm, and for a moment, I swore I saw silvery cords draping the chamber—flowing from Poppy and rippling across the floor, covering my legs. My body. The Rev’s head tilted.
A rumble started in my chest as I willed my fingers around the red-hot hilt. My arm moved, jerking the dagger free. Air poured into my lungs as I shifted sideways. The dagger fell and clattered—
Power, ancient and unyielding, flooded my senses as my hand slammed into the floor. And then it seized control of my body.
Tiny specks of silver appeared along my flesh, filling every pore. My lips peeled back as my jaw popped out of its socket. Canines jutted out. My palms roughened as my fingers spread out, fingernails growing and thickening, sharpening, digging into the stone floor. The linen pants split at the thighs as bones throughout my body shifted, breaking at joints and then rapidly fusing back together, lengthening and hardening. The cloth fell away as my back bowed. I could feel my skin thinning, moving. From the silvery-lit pores, fur sprouted—glossy, onyx-and-gold-hued fur. I pushed back onto my knees, then rose to my hands and feet—no, my paws. It had only taken seconds. A stuttered handful of heartbeats. And I was still me, but not.
I was something else.
I rose onto all fours, shaking myself as the sound of the Rev’s fast breaths echoed in my head. His stale-sweet scent reached me, tinged in…fear. I smelled his fear. Something in my peripheral vision snagged my attention—a reflection in a standing mirror propped against the wall. A large black and gold feline with a shoulder height of over five feet and nearly double the length—and eyes a luminous silver.
That rumble came again from my chest as I turned my head to the Rev.
Pale blue eyes were wide behind the golden mask. “Impossible.”
There was no thought, no need to figure out how to get these much larger limbs and body to move. It was more than just an instinct that took over. It was a long-buried knowledge that had been waiting for decades, maybe centuries, to be awakened and tapped into.
I leapt, clearing the distance between us as the Rev jabbed out with the dagger. My reflexes, already fast, were now sharper. I caught his arm, clamping down with my jaws. Skin gave way like fragile silk. Hot, strange-tasting blood poured into my mouth. Bones cracked as if they were nothing more than twigs.
The man howled as I twisted my head, tearing through tissue. I yanked him away from the bed, the dagger falling from his grasp. He fell back, away from me. I spat the lower half of his arm onto the floor.
“Fuck,” he rasped, lurching for a fallen dagger.
Powerful, sleek muscles coiled and stretched as he darted to my side, attempting to go around me. I swiped out with a clawed paw, slicing through his leg. His shout of pain turned into a grunt as I latched onto his calf with my canines, dragging him across the floor. With my hold on his muscle, I lifted him and flung him aside. Blood spurted as his leg came off from the knee down.
He skidded across the floor, slamming into the wall. His head jerked up as he rolled onto one knee. I stalked him, a low hiss coming from the back of my throat as he half-crawled, half-slid.
I let him get close enough that his fingers brushed what he sought, then I pounced. Driving him onto his back, I dug my claws into his chest, his thighs, shredding skin and muscle.
I was brutal, clawing through his chest until the cavity gave way beneath me. Savage satisfaction filled me. Then I moved onto his shoulders, ripping apart the tendons, removing what was left of his arms and legs as his screams turned to pitiful whimpers.
Lifting my blood-soaked head, I prowled up his writhing form as I brought my face to his. His mouth opened, revealing blood-streaked teeth—