The…the Shadowlands? Ruled over the dead? Nyktos was the God of Life, King of all the gods. Rhain was the God of Common Men and Endings. I had never heard of the Shadowlands before, but with that name alone, it sounded like a place I didn’t want to learn more about.

“But I digress,” he said, and I saw the hazy dark outline of a man in the gloom. I squinted, focusing on him, but I…I sensed nothing from him. “You pull on those bindings, they will simply tighten. You keep doing it, they will cut through your flesh and into your bone. Eventually, they will sever your limbs. Don’t believe me, take a closer look at the one beside you.”

I didn’t want to look, to take my eyes off the shadowy form, but I couldn’t help myself. I glanced at the body beside me and looked down at its side. The skeletal remains of a hand lay beside it.

Oh, gods.

“Lucky for you, you only carry the blood of the gods in you. You’re not a deity like them. You would bleed out and die rather quickly. The deities like the one beside you?” the man said, and my attention shot back to him. The shadowy mass was closer now, having stopped at the edges of the fiery glow. “He…well, he grew weaker and hungrier until his body started to cannibalize itself. That process alone most likely took centuries.”

Centuries? I shuddered.

“You must be asking yourself what he could have done to warrant such a horrid punishment. What did he and the others lining the walls and in their coffins do?” he asked. And, yeah, a part of me wondered just that.

“They became too dangerous. Too powerful. Too…unpredictable.” He paused, and I swallowed hard. It took no leap of logic to assume that those against the wall and before me were deities. “Too much of a threat. Just like you.”

“I’m not a threat,” I snarled.

“You’re not? You killed many.”

My fingers curled inward. “They attacked me for no reason. They hurt—” My voice cracked. “They hurt the wolven. Their Prince. My—”

“Your heartmate?” he suggested. “A union of not only the hearts but also of the soul. Rare and more powerful than any bloodline. Many would consider such a thing a miracle. Tell me, do you think it’s a miracle now?”

“Yes,” I growled without hesitation.

He laughed, and yet again, something tugged at the recesses of my memories. “You will then be relieved to know that they are all safe. The King and Queen—those two wolven, even the Prince,” he said, and I might’ve stopped breathing. “If you don’t believe that, you can trust the marriage imprint.”

My heart stuttered. I hadn’t even thought of that. Casteel had told me that the imprint faded upon the death of one of the partners. That was how some had learned of their heartmate’s demise.

Part of me didn’t want to look, but I had to. A hollowness filled my stomach as my gaze shifted to my left hand. It trembled as I turned it over. The golden swirl across my palm glimmered faintly.