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hit the ground. He stabs his friend, his Commander, in both of his thighs.

Solar stumbles, and Roc presses his advantage, moving behind him and placing a dagger at the hollow of his throat.

Erebus claps, as if he’s witnessing a sporting event, his team winning. His phantoms rip through the Astra with ease.

The man in the black robe displays no emotion. The women at his sides sob.

Between harsh pants, Roc pleads, “Don’t make me do this, Commander. You won’t recover.”

“I’m no longer your Commander, and I’m no longer your brother.” Solar laughs, crazed, blood staining his teeth. He continues to hold the sword, the tip resting in the ground. “The curse is indeed upon us. Can you feel it? I’ve lost my love, and with my death, so will you. You, the challenge winner, will take my place as leader. You’ll become the one to wed and slay the virgin bride. One day, you’ll find your gravita. If you don’t kill her, Erebus or your men will do it for you, and my pain will become yours. Enjoy it with my compliments, Roc.”

With that, Solar swings his sword, the tip arching up. His head flies off his neck, his body turning to stone as it topples.

As Roc falters with shock, blood pours and spurts from severed arteries. Half his hand is missing.

Taliyah was panting as the real world replaced the memory. A flush seared her cheeks and hot tears slicked down her cheeks.

Roc peered at her, the torment in his eyes tangled with a toxic mix of grief, guilt, sorrow and regret. Because he’d killed his Commander’s wife. Because he’d killed his leader. Because Solar’s prediction had come true.

No wonder he’d refused to sympathize with any of his brides. Deep down, he’d feared this very thing. Of living Solar’s nightmare.

“Now you know my shame,” he said, his tone flat.

“Yes.” He’d gone to great lengths to avoid the curse, and he’d still failed. He would always go to great lengths. That he’d pleaded with Chaos to be with Taliyah, well, it meant tons. But in the end, he would take her life if necessary. “Now I know.”

33

Just love her.

His sister’s parting words played on repeat within Roc’s head, causing an excruciating tightness in his broken chest. Far worse than ever before. He felt as if someone had wrapped barbed wire around his heart and now squeezed the life from him one drop of blood at a time.

He did love Taliyah. He knew that now, the truth as bright as she was, chasing darkness from the deepest corners of his mind. She’d become a part of him. The most important part. To have her in his arms every night...to awaken with her every morning...to witness her battles and protect her when she required it...to spar with her, talk with her, tease her...to anticipate what she would say or do and always end up surprised...

He would do anything.

From the beginning, she’d given him her best. He’d only shown her his worst. That needed to change.

Perched on his lap, she said, “Tell me everything about the blessing, and I mean everything. Leave out no detail, even those you consider dangerous for a bride—”

“Wife,” he corrected.

“—to know.”

Very well. He would do anything she asked. He explained how everything worked. How Halo would begin his task upon the completion of Roc’s, then Silver after him. The order depended on the rank.

“So nine tasks in total. Nine chances for Erebus to initiate the curse.”

He toyed with the ends of her hair. “He strikes at us in varying ways. Sometimes to cause failure. Sometimes simply to torment. If one of us fails, all other tasks are moot, and his fun is over, which is why he mostly toys with us and strikes at Ian the hardest.”

“Why do people stand around watching the sacrifice?”

“They serve as witnesses. On the thirtieth day of our marriage, the trinite wall comes down early in the morning. Soon after, Chaos arrives.” Must save my sisters from the god.

“Chaos,” Taliyah muttered. “Of course.”

“Erebus attends, as well. He brings his army, but no one is allowed to act against us once the ceremony starts. Anyone who attacks the participants dies before a blow ever lands. When the ceremony is complete, a battle always breaks out.”

“But I saw you and your men fighting during the ceremony, when the bride still lived.”

“We are participants. We can fight whenever we want.”

Pensive, she tapped her bottom lip. “What kind of sword killed Solar?”

“Firstone.”

“Like the stones the phantoms brought here?”

He nodded. “Firstone swords kill other gods as well as mere immortals. Most beings are vulnerable to firstone. After Solar’s death, we labored to eliminate any trace of it. We thought we’d succeeded.”

“So I can kill you with firstone, and you can kill me with trinite and firstone.”

A denial rushed to his lips—a lie. He barely stopped its breakout. “I cannot halt the ceremony unless I ascend. I cannot ascend until I make a proper sacrifice. I refuse to kill you. I refuse to curse my men. I don’t know what to do,” he repeated.

“You and me both.” With a sigh, she hopped to her feet to prepare for the day ahead. “You’ve given me a lot to think about. I’m cleaning up, then going to the library to study.”

His chest squeezed tighter. Did she want to escape him? “I’d like to spend the day with you.” The altar could wait. If he ever returned to it. Resentment flared. “If you welcome me?” Please, welcome me.

“Sure,” she said, and he exhaled. “But you’re going to have to be on your best behavior. You must resist my irresistible appeal.”

She teases me? An agonized smile broke out. “Taya, I’m afraid that’s the one thing I cannot do.”

They showered, and for the first time in thousands of years, Roc left the alevala over his heart intact. Once they’d dressed, he escorted her to the library, where they sat at opposite sides of a table. As he read the passages she slid his way, he

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