grateful, for once, for the thick veil that hides my panic-filled eyes from view. I don’t want my father to see how terrified I am. I think I’m practically green.

I feel a strong arm around me and lean into my father’s embrace. “Remember, what you do, you do for your mother and Ryrn,” he murmurs.

I nod fiercely, fighting back the tears pooling in my eyes. I can’t cry. It will ruin my makeup. “I know, father,” I whisper.

He pulls away and I’m filled with fear again. “Don’t be afraid. You’re a Princess of Ryrn.”

His words mean little to me now that I’m already drowning in anxiety, but I nod anyway. My sisters enter the throne room first, their heeled shoes tapping on the floor as they’re escorted by servants. My father follows, and the door closes behind him. I wait alone, Sera and Laurel were sent away. Through the door, I can hear my father’s booming voice as he discusses the terms of the Collection with King Kane. He makes a swift speech about the ties between our kingdoms. And then the door opens again.

I take a hesitant step forward, my feet never lifting from the ground, so I don’t lose my footing or sense of direction. I walk as regally as I can into the throne room, holding my head high. It’s the cold that almost stops me first. I hesitate, fear coiling around my heart. I’ve never felt cold like this before, the kind that creeps over you like a snake. I shuffle forward until I reach the soft padding of a carpet; my spot.

When I turn and face in the direction of my groom, it’s completely black. There’s no light filtering through my veil any longer, it’s as dark as night. I almost jump when my father’s voice rings out beside me.

“I, Alban Charleroi Deslionne, offer you a Daughter of Ryrn,” my father intones.

My heart pounds, waiting for my groom’s reply. “I,” a silky voice purrs from in front of me. I feel weak at the knees, relieved to hear a normal voice. Kane’s voice is deep, without grating on my ears; an addictive sound. “I, Kane Enfer of the line of the Gods, accept this Daughter of Ryrn.”

“She is yours, lest the Gods strike me down,” my father says, his voice booming through the throne room.

The ceremony is complete now, but grooms may offer a final proclamation if they wish. So, I wait, knees quaking, as I face my groom in complete darkness. I hear a soft breath in front of me, and I know it’s him. My stomach does an odd, little flip at the sound.

"She is mine, the token of a debt now paid, lest the Gods strike you down," Kane says. I shiver at the sound of his voice, at the dangerous implications of his words.

Soft footsteps as my father steps backward, leaving me alone before Death himself. I fix my eyes forward, praying to the Goddess of Peace that he can't hear my heart pounding in my chest. I hear the soft rustling of fabric as Kane closes the distance between us. The shadows around me grow deeper and I wonder if he himself is nothing more than darkness.

But then I feel the firm touch of his hand on the small of my back. He’s cold; even through the veil I can feel the chill emanating from him. He guides me forward, fingers digging into me. I don’t feel any claws. I try to breathe regularly, to convince him that I have no fear. But I can’t help the gasp that slips from my lips when my world tips upside down.

I’m going to the Underworld.

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Chapter One

Altair

The purple hue of the dusky sky is fringed with orange. The sun is rising, though the daylight hasn’t yet driven out the night. The stars are still visible, winking above the city and the palace. From the roofless tower, I can hear my people below. The sounds of the city echo towards me, reaching high into the sky. Music and laughter. Laughter that will soon fall silent forever.

I narrow my eyes, staring angrily towards the mountain range in the distance. I can almost see Maaz and her Bloodbane witches soaring over the mountain peaks on their deadwood brooms. But it’s only a flock of birds.

I’m running out of time. The night is disappearing, and the days are passing too quickly. I relish the night. Every morning, as dawn approaches, I can’t escape the memory of the day Maaz cursed me. Cursed me to become the beast she saw when I refused her. I close my eyes, envisioning the moment.

Maaz, dressed in the blood-red gown slinked into my throne room as if it were hers already. She had dragged her long, black fingernails across my throat and down my chest, grinning.

I will never forget that grin. Cursed, she had said. Cursed for a thousand years or until I find a Bloodbane witch to break the spell and bind herself to me willingly. Cursed to die, along with all of my people, at the end of the thousand years.

And time is running short.

My stomach twists as Maaz’s cruel smirk flashes through my mind again. The wind caresses my cheek, and I open my eyes to stare down at my city once more. My coat snaps out behind me as the wind speed picks up. It’s coming from the West, towards the mountains.

I scowl, probably a reminder from Maaz. A gloat. A boast. She thinks she’s won already. Fury sweeps through me, sending my blood singing with blood lust. I swing my arm towards the flag pole beside me, where my banner proudly waves, and drive my fist through the wood. It splinters loudly, and the pole breaks in half. It clatters to the stone floor of the tower, the flag coiled beneath it.

I stare down at it, at the black hawk poised to

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