I couldn’t…I couldn’t let myself go there.

The possibility that Isbeth had a draken locked away somewhere was something I would have to file away for the moment, right along with the knowledge of who my father was and the questions surrounding how he and Isbeth had come together. All I could focus on was what I knew now.

That my father was a victim of Isbeth’s, too.

And I thought of Malec, entombed beneath the Blood Forest. “If a god of Primal blood was entombed, what happens to them?”

“Entombed by the bones of the deities? They would simply waste away, day by day, year by year, but they would not die,” he answered. “They would just exist in a place between dying and death, alive but trapped.”

Gods.

That was an even more horrifying outcome than the deities slowly starving to death, but that meant that Malec was still alive, and Isbeth still loved him.

Nektas’s skin had hardened into scales. “Are you ready, daughter of Ires, the son of Nyktos and his Consort?”

A tremble coursed through me. “Yes.”

“Then speak the words and receive what you’ve come for.”

My skin tingled, and my chest throbbed. Kieran’s hand closed around mine. He squeezed. A soft breeze came from nowhere, swirling across the diamonds. The scent of lilacs reached me, and then I heard her voice among my thoughts—heard the Consort speaking the words Nektas waited for. “I...I summon the flesh and fire of the gods, to protect me and those I care for. To ride at my side and stand guard at my back. I call upon the bloodline birthed of flesh and fire to awaken.”

Nektas turned his head to the side, the vibrant blue of his irises a stark contrast to the pitch-black of the vertical pupil.

The ground trembled and gave a low rumble. Kieran’s grip on my hand tightened as we took several steps back. Dirt and small diamonds spilled into the air around the base of the Temple. Chunks of crystal exploded out to the sides. Gleaming talons stretched out from the dust, sinking into the black stone. A large, leathery shape cut through the cloud of debris, arcing high as dozens of claws carved into the tower from all sides. They erupted from the earth below, pulling their scaled, winged bodies out of the soil. They climbed the sides of the tallest spire, one after another, their grayish-black tails whipping through the air. The first reached the top— its deep-purple-black scales glimmering under the sun as it shook the dirt from its body. Stretching out its long neck, frills of spikes opened around its head as its wide mouth dropped open, and a deafening roar rattled my bones.

Nektas faced me. “From this moment to the last moment, they are yours, Queen of Flesh and Fire.”

My breath caught, burning my throat as wisps of smoke wafted from the purple-black creature’s nostrils. It opened its jaws and let out another rumbling roar. Flames spilled from its mouth, a rolling tide of silvery-white flames. It launched from the obsidian tower, rocketing into the sky, its wings unfurling and sending a gust of wind over the ground. The others called out, their shrieks turning into keening calls. Awakened from their deep sleep, dozens of draken followed, leaping from the tower and taking flight, one after the other. They flew toward the Mountains of Nyktos and then, eventually, they would take flight for Solis.