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Thank the Sisters.

That peace was all he’d ever wanted for his sons. All he’d ever truly asked the stars for.

“Go on, then. You’ll be the first to know anything that matters.”

Brand and Lunara were gone before his next blink, and the teasing mask slipped away.

Alwyn sucked in a harsh breath to find the Imperial Sovereign behind the murderous father. Another, to remind his hands that they could not, under any circumstances, slaughter the creature Okthana yet. And one more, to set the calm facade.

Hardest fucking thing he’d ever done.

A twist on the ancient handle and the iron door swung wide, humid air wafting from within. Good. The cunt could sweat to death, for all he cared.

The cage Brand and Lunara created let off a cool, prismatic glow that sparkled discordantly in the dank space. It managed to be pretty somehow, and he couldn’t decide whether or not he liked that. On the one hand, it might give her something to cling to, which wouldn’t fucking do. On the other, it might crack her mind, making her more unhinged than she already was.

One could hope, anyway.

He rounded the slight bend, control already slipping and⁠—

Alwyn’s knees hit the rocky floor before he knew what was happening, a secret wound nearly as old as his life was long splitting wide, fucking open.

The creature before him was older, yes, but as lovely as she’d ever been.

“Eira?” He barely got out that single word.

A muscle twitched below one of her violet eyes. “Hello, Winnie.”

Astrellion was just on his way to pay Nyri a visit, halfway through the mist, when something tugged at him from within.

A sound. Distant. Desperate.

Interesting.

He kept to the space between, flying unseen over the Great Plateau. Searching. Listening. And there it was again. A weak, layered bellow in the west. Bordoroth’s landscapes passed in a blur as he chased it down, curious. And when he found the source, there was no stopping his grin.

Araxis aht Bordoroth, stumbling across an empty Thodeleborian field and shouting to the sky while he tried to hold his guts in.

Astrellion stifled a laugh. What fun.

Too bad the ether was fucking irritating.

Within it, they were wraiths. Fog. Unable to even touch, let alone harm. Otherwise, he might have used the opportunity to end the Fifth Son. No one would ever find the body. But the meddling bastard was one key to the larger lock in his own right, just like half the other wretched pests on this infantile planet, and he was needed.

Honestly, it was the only reason he hadn’t just murdered the whole Imperial Family and taken the throne.

Ah, well. Games had their merit.

Araxis tripped, landing hard. His form rapidly pulsed, disappearing then reappearing as he writhed on a silent scream, fangs flashing before he slumped in defeat.

Night fucking take him.

Araxis was trapped in the ether. And without a blood gift to heal him, he was staying that way.

There was no end to Astrellion’s delight. In fact, it was everything he could do not to fly straight down there and gloat in the Sorcerit’s face.

There were only a few creatures in this world who could find Araxis. Astrellion wouldn’t tell, and Endellion was chained by Celestial shackles to within an inch of her life. Even if his sister did manage to get free, she was so far below ground that it would take her years to crawl out. Which she’d have to do since he’d kept her malnourished on purpose. Oh, and there was the little matter of when he severed the wings from her back.

Oops.