I shrugged. “We cannot win this fight without the Empress. Your twin or not, the decision will have to be made soon, and I do not say this lightly.”

She tugged on her bottom lip as she stared at her twin’s back. “Give me time to think of a way to keep Emersyn in the fight.”

“I am rooting for your brilliance.”

Her cheeks flushed a soft pink that matched the crystal on her chest and back of her hand. She nodded. “No pressure, right?”

That made me smirk as I sat on the bench against the wall, resting my elbows on my knees. “Welcome to my world.”

Cooper walked up to Tegan, blocking her view of me. Which was good. Tegan Bishop saw too much for my mental and emotional state. I closed my eyes, but Francelina’s face filled my vision. I cringed and rubbed my eyes. It was a kaleidoscope of her tears. I heard the voices of The Coven all around me though I could not focus on their words. The air was thick with the scent of food billowing from the kitchen to my right, yet I could not decipher a single one. Good. Numb is good. Numb got me through centuries. Numb can get me through until she returns. I would be no use to this new crew of mine if I let my emotions drown me.

They relied on me too much.

Not that I blamed them. I was the eleven-hundred-year-old son of Lilith and Seelie King Atzaran. I’d lived through countless human wars and two major arcana ones. I was there the last time my mother walked this realm and watched when Edward struck her down. I was there when the Unseelie helped Sweyn create an army of new bloodsucking beings and launched her attack on this world . . . and I was there the day that war ended.

That war cost me my wife.

For that, I would see Sweyn suffer a million times over.

A wave of heat washed over me from the left, carrying the scent of fire and ash. My skin prickled. I smirked and opened my eyes just as shifter King of Issale walked through the front door. The dragons had always affected me in ways the arcana did not . . . because neither my parents’ realms had any being of the sort.

Koth stomped through the house, though not in anger. His purple eyes were narrowed and scanning the room until they suddenly widened. He stopped short, pressing his palm to his chest. “Elan—I mean, wait . . . Akecheta⁠—”

“You may call me Elan, Koth,” Akecheta’s voice was lower and rougher than usual. “I’ve grown quite fond of that name.”

Koth’s mouth mashed into one line like he was struggling with his own emotions. He ran a hand through his unruly long hair that held every shade of brown imaginable. “For my current sanity I will take you up on that offer.”