She lifted a hand. Icy-cold fingers gripped my throat, digging into my windpipe. I reached for the hands—hands that weren’t there. A razor-thin bit of air worked its way into my throat as my eyes widened and then…nothing. I stumbled back, scratching at my neck.

“Poppy!” Casteel shouted, dropping a sword as he grasped me around the waist. I stared up at him, my mouth moving but without air to give my words life. His head twisted toward the Blood Queen. “What are you doing to her?”

“Teaching her yet another valuable lesson—”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lyra shift, heard her clothing rip. It was so fast. She’d been mortal one moment, wolven the next, and…

Isbeth turned her head toward her.

Kieran shouted a warning, and then Lyra’s high-pitched yelp and thick, snapping and crunching sounds followed. I tried to turn my head but I couldn’t. The grip on my throat tightened.

“A lesson that will get worse if another single wolven who’s eyeing me like I’m dinner takes another step toward me. The same goes for the Atlantians,” she said, and I wheezed pitifully, damp sweat coating my skin. “I will snap her neck.”

“Stop!” Casteel yelled. “Stand down. Now!”

I dug at my throat, panic blossoming in my chest. I couldn’t breathe. Pain streaked down my throat as my nails drew blood.

“Let her go,” Casteel said, dropping his other sword as he clasped my wrist. “Damn it, let her go!”

“I don’t think I will. You see, she needs to understand the same lesson you were so resistant to,” Isbeth said. “She has no choice. She never has, and I can tell she still believes otherwise. Perhaps she is a perfect fit for you, and she’ll never learn. Your brother has been far more accommodating.”

My lungs burned as sharp, stabbing pinpricks attacked my hands and arms—my legs. Black dotted my vision. Pressure clamped down on my skull. Those icy fingers sank into my head, into my mind. Pain sliced through me—the kind that seized control of my entire body, and this—oh, gods, this was what I had planned to do to her but hadn’t been quick enough or known how. It felt like she was tearing me apart from the inside, scattering my brain. I jerked, straining against Casteel as I clasped the sides of my head. I twisted, only aware that I breathed because I could scream.

“Poppy!” Casteel gripped my arm as I clutched at my head, tore at my hair as those claws kept digging in. Panic filled his eyes as wet warmth gushed from my nose, from my ears. “No. No. No.” He pulled me to his chest as he twisted toward her. “Please. I beg you. Stop. Please, godsdamn it. Stop! I’ll do anything. You want Atlantia? It’s yours—”

“You are not the true heir,” she cut him off. “You cannot give me what I want.”

“She can’t give it to you if you kill her,” he shouted as my teeth bled. “You want to control her? You want me, then. Take me. I won’t fight you. I swear. I won’t. Just stop. Please.” His voice cracked.