Those thoughts turn to ashes when she speaks next.

"But I can never think to warm your bed or hold court with you because I'm cursed with the knowledge that one day, your cruelty will push me too far, and my flames will consume me, and I will be reborn into something I don't recognize. I'm not naive enough to know why I ended up here rather than beyond the veil, but I'm not Caius, and there's no way I could ever condone the brutal way you treat others."

Her words are like a cold bucket of water over my head, bringing me back to reality. I know what she says is true, but it doesn't make the ache in my chest any less painful.

"I know," I say, my voice low and heavy with regret. Who would want to be with the devil? Caius is my mate, so he has no choice but to love me. "Come back with me to the underworld, and I'll give you your magic back."

"What?"

"I want you to trust me. As soon as we get back, I'll release the bind on your magic."

A woosh of air escapes between her parted lips as she studies me. "Okay." She nods, and I release her wrists, pulling her into a tight embrace. In this moment, nothing else matters but her, her warmth, her scent, the sound of her heartbeat. I will hold onto this moment, this fragile connection between us, for as long as I can.

Before I have to ruin it all.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

MORTE

If the king is as cruel as Aggonid says he is, I'd be stupid to stay here without magic. Just because I can resurrect, doesn't mean he can't keep me in a cage, torturing me as soon as I come back to life.

So back to the underworld it is.

I'm filled with a strange sort of relief. I'm grateful for a chance to be free of the unknown situation in Romarie, where I'm so vulnerable and helpless—stuck between Aggonid's dick measuring contest with Ollin and my own survival. I never thought I'd hear Aggonid claim someone else is crueler.

"Strip the metal from that mantel." Aggonid inclines his head.

"And how exactly is this going to get us out of here?"

"Romarie's magic comes from the Luna goddess just like all the other fae realms, but they've learned how to amplify it using certain metals only found here. If we can get enough of it, we should be able to generate enough to get us back home."

I raise a brow his way at the use of the word 'home’, but I don't comment on it. "And you can’t just magic one into existence wherever you're at?"

It's his turn to level me with a look. "And that's the million-dollar question, isn't it? I should be able to do it from anywhere. But while you were bathing, I practiced for an hour, and nothing happens. Something, or someone, is blocking it."

I pry at the sanguimetal with a chisel I fashioned from the fireplace poker. The metal is tough and has a strange electric tingle, like when you plug in a computer or phone with an outlet that has a short in it.

"It could be the power of the king," Aggonid muses as he watches me work, while his shadows strip the room of its metal furnishings. "I've heard stories about him—that he can draw energy from others and use it to fuel his own magic. Maybe he's exerting enough energy to block my own."

"You're a god," I argue. "Aren't you supposed to be all-seeing, all-knowing, and all-powerful?"

He doesn't take offense, only grinning as though I'd told him he has the largest cock out of all his friends. "I am. Just not when I haven't activated my soul b—" He stops abruptly, his face turning to stone and snapping his mouth shut.

"Your what?" I yank the metal free and toss it on the small pile we've collected on the rug.

"Nothing," he says, quickly changing the subject. "Let's get started."

I watch as Aggonid fashions a small set of silver tools from the scraps of sanguimetal. We work together, chipping away at the metal and melting it down to form a disc. It's a slow and tedious process, but we need enough of the metal to amplify the portal and get back home.

Once we have enough, we tightly cram the metal disc into a tiny pouch and race through the hallway, invisibility cloak intact, and our heartbeats drowning out the sound of our soft footsteps echoing off the cold stone floor.

We narrowly escape detection from the guards patrolling the castle as we dart between pools of darkness, where the shadows help hide the faint glimmer these cloaks give the air to the trained eye.

I stumble forward, my ankle twisting painfully beneath me, alerting anyone within eyesight to our presence. Aggonid curses and frantically flings his hands in a desperate attempt to reestablish his magical veil, but he's too late. For a split second, our location is exposed in a brilliant flash of limbs before his magic cloaks us once more.

"I can help you," a tiny voice whispers, hobbling along with us, and I tug on Aggonid's arm to stop him.

Aggonid scowls at me as I grab hold of Oceana, bringing her under our cloak. "We don't need help," he hisses.