They were statements, not questions, because his father’s behavior already provided the answers.

Sethios had hoped to avoid this for at least a few more centuries, but it seemed his father didn’t feel the same. Perhaps he’d realized how powerful his son had become and sought any excuse to take him down.

Or maybe his father was just bored and wanted a new challenge.

Or the prophecy is self-fulfilling, and I will, in fact, be Osiris’s eventual demise.

No matter the reason, it seemed Ezekiel was right to suggest that Sethios run.

There would be no reasoning with his father. He’d suspected as much but needed to see it for himself first.

Good thing he already had several backup plans for this scenario.

“It’s disappointing that you trust a seer over your own flesh and blood,” Sethios added, his tone flat. No point in conveying any emotion. It would neither help nor fix the issue at hand.

“Her visions are never wrong.” His father sounded neither apologetic nor concerned. “We’ll see how her prophecy changes once I’ve detained you. Indefinitely.”

“That sounds ominous and impossible,” Sethios murmured. Primarily because I won’t be complying with shit.

“Come now. You’ve turned your conquest into a pet with a few commands. I’m more than capable of doing the same to you.”

“I see.” It’s come to that, then. “And here I thought we might be able to discuss this civilly, but instead, you wish to make a puppet of me.”

“It might be temporary.”

Doubtful. “You’ve always wished to control me.” Something he recognized millennia ago. “I’m surprised it took you this long to try.”

“Who’s to say I haven’t succeeded already?” An evil grin twitched at the edges of his father’s mouth, causing Sethios’s stomach to churn. He recognized that look. It occurred at every Conclave, right before his maker indulged in his penchant for torture.

This fate was always inevitable.

Blood ties mattered little to most ancient beings. No remorse or sense of humanity existed in those past a certain age, except under unique circumstances.

For them, their father-son bond never truly existed. Sethios was an instrument to be used, not a son or a progeny.

There would be no mercy or leniency, especially if Osiris believed his next-in-line to be a threat. Which he clearly did, thanks to a seer’s prediction.

It was a miracle that it took her this long to foresee such a future.

Because if anyone could overtake Osiris, it was his son.

But not today.

“Well, I suppose there’s only one thing left to do,” Sethios said as he reached out to take hold of Caro’s hand. He shifted his gaze to hers. “Isn’t that right, love?”

His compulsion triggered, tightening his gut as the world shifted around him.

Ezekiel’s ability to trace was nothing like misting. Blasts of color nearly blinded him, the hues matching Caro’s blue-and-white wings. Her arms found his neck as he wrapped his own around her waist, and they whirled through a foreign tunnel of light and sound that nearly rendered him unconscious.