I awoke in the night, glittering, sharp, blinding pain filling every corner of my head. But it was gone as soon as it had come.

Yet sleep didn’t follow.

I tossed and turned until I sensed the approaching dawn, and finally, Parthenia swept into the room. “Up, up, up,” she ordered, throwing open the doors to the wardrobe. “The palace is in absolute chaos, and here you are, dreaming away.”

Sitting up and swinging my legs over the edge of the mattress, I glowered at her. “For your information, I’ve hardly slept a wink.” I sighed. “What are you talking about? What chaos?”

She ignored me, too busy rummaging through my clothes. She pulled out two gowns, one the color of fresh cream, the other of lavender silk. Scowling, she stuffed the lavender one back into the wardrobe and threw the other onto the bed. I ran a hand over the gauzy material of the dress and frowned. It was a fine cut of cloth. Gem-encrusted embroidery delicately danced around the waistline. As beautiful as it was . . .“Is there some reason I’m to dress in finery today? I’d planned to work in the infirmary.”

Her arms crossed over her small chest. “They found another body.”

A lead weight fell into my stomach. “What?”

“An Imperial, Soren of the Solna. I was in the hall when they brought his body down from the parapet. He looked . . .”— her face went pale as milk.

“Like he’d aged centuries in a moment,” I breathed. Leda’s skeletal face swam before my eyes. “Like every ounce of life had been sucked clean from his bones.”

Parthenia swallowed.

“Why didn’t they call me to examine the body?”

A shrug.

Oblivious to the fine fabric, my hand fisted in the gown, leaving wrinkles it would be impossible to iron out.

Silently, Parthenia moved about the room, laying out jewelry and matching satin slippers. I stood and allowed her to unlace the back of my nightgown. “I felt something last night . . . the same as Nemoralia . . .”

Parthenia’s fingers paused against the laces. “They are already blaming Aidoneus,” she said. “Even though he was locked in a cell.”

I opened my mouth to argue, to press her on how they could possibly think such a thing, when the servant’s door opened.

I jumped, swinging around to face the door, hands holding up my nightgown.

Solara’s brilliant smile lit her face. She raised her hands in mock surrender, her laughter bubbly. “Goodness, you nearly jumped out of your skin. What’s got you so wound up?”

“Well, I don’t know,” I answered testily. “There is only a murderer on the loose.”

She snorted. “You have more guards outside your room than I can count. That’s why I took the servant’s hall. Besides, I think Varian has already dealt with that particular problem.”

“What do you mean?”

She frowned at my state of undress. “You better get ready. We have to meet Sibyl. I suppose she’ll fill you in.”

So Parthenia rushed me into my gown. Solara helped, lacing up the back as Parthenia painted the Mark of the Korai on my brow. There was no time for hair, so I took two gold combs from the dressing table and used them to sweep the auburn waves back from my face. I’d just put the last comb in place when a knock sounded. Parthenia gave me one last appraising glance before opening the door.

Varian crossed the threshold. Dressed in full armor, Deimos’ hilt peeked over his shoulder. A dagger was sheathed at his hip. He too bore the signs of a sleepless night. Eyes dull, a shadow of a blond beard lay on his cheeks.

Parthenia and Solara quickly made themselves scarce, scurrying into the hall and closing the door behind them.

“Aurora,” he growled when we were alone. “That gown suits you.”

I matched his studying gaze, looking from his tired face to his dirty boots. A long night, indeed. “Thank you,” I said, heart growing heavier. “I heard an Imperial was killed.”

He stepped into the room, closing the space between us with two long strides. Without another word, he enfolded me in a near bone-crushing embrace. I tried to fill my lungs with a steadying breath and his scent surrounded me. He smelled of the musk of recent exertion, along with his typical scent of citrus and oiled steel. But underneath was something else. Dank misery and decay, and the tiniest hint of leather.

I pulled away. “You’ve been in the dungeons.”

“I’m sorry, I haven’t had a chance to change.” He ran a hand over his shorn scalp. “It seems I was foolish to think the iron fetters could hold our unwelcome guest.”

My heart clenched tight.

“Soren was one of Helios’ tribe—one of the highest-ranking Solna,” Varian continued. “He was being groomed to one day lead the Emperor’s personal guard.”

Varian still held me close. I sighed, some of the tension leaving me at his obvious pain. “I’m so sorry.”

But it made no sense. As far as I knew, Aidon had no connection to this Imperial. And the killer had targeted Leda, an acolyte from a powerful family. If Soren was indeed a high-ranking Solna, he would have had plenty of power running through his own veins. There had to be something else, something we weren’t seeing . . .

I opened my mouth to share my thoughts with Varian, but his calloused hand covered my own. “Aidoneus will pay for what he has done.”

“Aidoneus . . . you were once friends, Varian. Why, out of the countless who have flocked to the city for my Trials, is he the only one you suspect?”

Varian stood silent. After a moment, he spoke with deadly calm. “Tell me, my darling, do you think it wise for me to allow a God-Blooded with the power of death to become a threat to us? To rule Myridia and perhaps one day the Shards? Do not doubt his ambition for a second, Aurora. If he wins you, he will use you . . . just as my father used my mother.”

His voice wavered, as did my sense of his words. There was truth there, but not the complete truth. But his mother . . . Fear crawled like a spider down my spine.

Varian read my face. He saw the doubt and unease there. Breathing deeply, he pursued me a step. His hand moved to my cheek, tucking away a stray strand of hair. “I just want to protect you,” he said, voice a soft touch. He leaned in, and his breath was a whisper against my lips. “Let me protect you.”

When his mouth met mine, I didn’t pull away. His lips were soft, gentle as he drew me close to his chest, his hand tangling in my hair. When his tongue brushed against me, I parted my lips, a pleasant quiver running through me. I circled the back of his neck with my hands, deepening the kiss.

But a girlish giggle sounded from the hall. I jerked away, cheeks scarlet. The bond. I’d kept my mind open. Who knew what Solara had seen?

Varian took one look at me and understanding flashed across his face. He opened the door. Solara stood there with a hand over her smiling mouth. “I’m sorry,” she said, choking on her laughter. “But you two . . . Well, you’re just so cute together.”

I glanced to Varian, worried he’d be angry, but a wry grin twisted his generous lips. His arm banded around my waist. “Cute? Oh, I think we can do better than cute.”

“Practice,” Solara called to us as she turned and strode towards Sibyl’s rooms. “Practice and maybe next time I’ll say you look perfect.”

Varian angled his face towards me, smiling. His lips again lowered to mine. Practice, indeed.

Varian’s gaze was a hot brand on my skin as we entered Sibyl’s morning room. But the heat left me when we found the High Priestess pacing the floor.

The frizzy mane of her unkempt curls and the deep purple beneath her eyes proved Varian and I weren’t the only ones who hadn’t slept. “I’ve been so foolish,” she said to no one in particular. “Leda, poor, sweet Leda. And now . . .”

Elysa sat in a velvet armchair in one corner of the room, studying her long, pale-fingered hands. “Perhaps it was the will of the gods,” she said, voice as cool as always.

The High Priestess whirled towards her, mouth agape. “Not any gods we pray to.” Her face crumpled then, tears threatening. “They were in my city . . . and now they’re dead.”

Varian stepped forward and placed a soothing hand on her thick arm. “You cannot blame yourself, Sibyl. Even I thought the iron in the dungeon would be enough to keep Aidoneus’ power in check. I underestimated him. But I promise you, it is a mistake I will not repeat.”

His words planted a foul sickness in my gut. I turned away, toward the window that overlooked the gardens below. Had it truly only been days since Aidon and I had walked there? It felt like ages.

Solara settled on a low stool by the hearth, her delicate hands picking at the cerulean fabric of her gown. “I don’t understand how the Myridian could have killed someone when he was locked in the dungeon,” she said.

“Surely there is another explanation,” I said.

Sibyl huffed, shaking her head. “You’ve seen the evidence yourself.”

I thought back to our conversation on Nemoralia. “You said that there are those who once used the lower levels of the Temple of Selene improperly . . .”

Elysa was suddenly on her feet, opalescent eyes blazing like a white flame. “Are you suggesting that this has something to do with my mother?”

I truly looked at her for the first time in several days. I’d thought the effects of Nemoralia—her augmented beauty, namely—would fade. Yet still, she was more beautiful than she’d ever been. And her power . . . “Elysa, have you not wondered why you are—”

Elysa pressed toward me, an accusing finger leveled at my chest. “Were it not for you, the Myridian would be dead.”

Varian stepped between us, his arm a shield across my body. “That’s enough.”

She stepped no further, but her searing gaze fixed on every point of contact between us. “She defends him, even now. Yet still, you want her.” Elysa’s gaze lifted to Varian’s, beseeching. “Doria needs a queen with strength, not a simpering, bleeding heart. When will you see her for what she truly is?”

Heat flared within me. “And what am I?”

“Weak.”

“ENOUGH!” Varian roared.

Elysa staggered back.

Sibyl sank into a chair, exhaustion drawing deep lines across her brow. “Dear ones, please, now is not the time to fight amongst ourselves.”

“Aurora,” Varian said, his jaw tight as he struggled to rein in his temper, “when I went to question him, I took guards with me. One of them was a human. He used his power against us. He killed that human. It was proof that he is too strong for the iron fetters alone to control him.”

Suddenly, I was not wholly within my own skin. “What did you do?”

“I . . . I collared him.”

Like a beast. Like a dog. My stomach roiled. I reached out a trembling hand to steady myself, but Varian took it, pulling me back to his side. That’s why his scent lingered on Varian under the dungeon rot. And deeper beneath it? Pressed against him, I smelled something metallic. Iron from the dungeon’s bars, or blood?

“Caging him is all we can do,” Sibyl said with a sigh. “The law is clear on that score.”

Varian stiffened beside me. “Surely the evidence—”

The High Priestess shook her head. “The Trials have begun. Celestial law claims that all who participate are immune to the laws of the realm, so long as they compete. If he wins, his crimes will be forgiven. He will be bound to Aurora as life-mate, his body a conduit for her power. But if he loses…” She locked eyes with Varian. “If he loses, his life will be forfeit.”

A cruel twist was suddenly on his lips. “Well, High Priestess, perhaps we can work the law to our advantage after all.”