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"Brother, if Saetth is what she desires . . ." Rune trailed off, searching for the right words. "You can't force her to want you."

Sian heard his allies' thoughts.

Allixta: --Delusional demon.--

Rune: --Desperate male.--

Darach: --Unstable. Like me.--

"Damn it, I'm not seeing this situation wrongly! Am I desperate not to be mateless? Of course. But if I'd kept my mind from the past, I wouldn't have reacted like this." He stabbed his fingers into his hair. "She knew I would think the worst. She predicted my behavior like a bloody soothsayer. Yet she'd still broached talking to me last night."

Her words: I need your help, your advice. I want to figure this out, but I can't do it alone.

She must have dreaded his reaction to her bloodline. How could she not have after the things he'd said about it?

Now that he could think clearly, he realized Calliope had been longing to tell him everything--despite his idiocy.

That was the reason for her distance. That was the conundrum.

How to fix his colossal mistake? He would return hat in hand. He'd admit how stupid he'd been. Once more he would plead to her. . . .

Rune said, "But won't you always react like this? Your mate's betrayal will continue to influence your view. This will just happen again."

Darach nodded. --Stuck in rut.--

"No. Because I forgive her for the past." Sian rasped, "I forgive her down to her very soul. From now until I die, I'm going to believe in her." But could she forgive him?

Allixta sighed. "You can't argue with the deluded. . . ." She trailed off, her eyes widening.

"What?"

"Well, look at you, Mr. Man."

Sian frowned, turning to Rune and Darach. Both were slack-jawed.

"What is it?" he demanded. Was that . . . ash wisping in front of him?

Rune's shock gave way to a grin. "You might want to take a gander at your reflection."

Sian raised his hands to touch his face, freezing at the sight of them. They were transforming into . . . into his former hands. A thin line of fire bordered each of his lengthy claws, scorching them away.

He teleported in front of an undamaged part of the glass. Gaped at his reflection.

His face had morphed back into his previous guise, his piercings gone. His glyphs faded, his skin growing smooth and tanned. That simmering heat singed away his wings. Would those proud horns remain?

They too burned to nothing. . . .

Rune traced behind him. "Your curse is being reversed."

How? Why? As Sian's thoughts raced, his dam's words flickered through his mind: Find the fire, and your appearance will be pleasing.

He'd taken her words literally, scouring his realm for the hellfire.

Though his reflection tried to hold his attention, Sian peered past it, gazing out into the black ether. Was this what his ancestor had seen?

Suddenly Sian understood the moral of the hellfire tale passed down in his family. If the universe hadn't been dark, his ancestor would never have spied that fire in the distance.

It took darkness to see the light.

For Sian, Calliope was the fire on the horizon. He'd dreamed of her, obsessing over her, searching for her in every era.

He hadn't been sleepwalking--he'd been immersed in darkness. He'd vowed to survive long enough for her to return to him. Which meant the promise of reuniting with her had gotten him through all those years, leading him forward.

Calliope had become his beacon, a point of reference from which to view all other things. If he kept his eyes on her . . .

I'll always know my way.

But he hadn't. He'd taken his eyes off her to look to the past.

Never again. His search had prepared him. By forgiving her, he'd found her. His heart soared. . . .

Then it sank. "When I left Calliope, she was strangling her emotions." That chilling blankness. Kari had walked away and never looked back. "I told my mate it was all a game with her. I told her . . . I would war on her kingdom."

He recalled his father's advice: Only hit hard if you aim true, son. Sian's aim had been false, and he might've swung a deathblow.

"You left her with nothing to do but sit in hell's dungeon and solidify her hatred of you." Allixta stroked behind her panther's ear. "All the best with your reconciliation."

Was he too late? A short jaunt to Tenebrous would equal hours gone by in Pandemonia. "I go now." He traced home--

And came shooting back into the black-stone keep, hitting the wall. "What the fuck?" He tried again. Boomeranged right back. "I can't trace into my kingdom!"

"Let me." Rune teleported. A split second later he flew through the air, slamming into the glass, which began to crack anew.

The others stilled, but Sian couldn't be bothered with that threat. His mind was too busy conjuring one nightmare scenario after another.

What if hell had been attacked? What if one among his countless enemies had taken Calliope? Killed her? Uthyr had better be giving his dragonic life to protect her!

"I can't get to my mate!" Sian snapped. "What force is keeping me out of my own realm?"

FIFTY-SIX

If I'm going to visit the neighbors, I've got to look fabulous.

When Lila entered her wardrobe, a purple gown appeared across the divan, a pair of glass slippers beside it.

She'd never seen such an exquisite garment. It was sleeveless with a stiff, raised collar and a neckline that would plunge almost to her navel.

The color was royal--and defiant, reminding her of her treason trial.

"Why shouldn't I believe you were involved in your parents' plot to take my crown?"

"Because it still sits upon your godsdamned head."

She pulled on the gown with a shiver. The material--one she'd never encountered before--had such a pronounced sheen, it looked black in certain lights. She stepped into the glass slippers, and they molded to her feet.

After pulling her hair into a loose updo, she assessed her reflection. Not bad.

In the mirror, she caught sight of a box on

the top shelf of the wardrobe behind her. She imagined the box disappearing and reappearing into her raised hands.

It . . . did.

Her lips parted at its contents: an eerie black headpiece--a crown. Power seemed to flow from it.

On either side of the circlet, a proud black horn jutted upward. Over the front, long fangs crisscrossed. Wispy vines twined around the crown. Like black fire vines!

Queen of nowhere? Not quite. Her inauguration wouldn't coincide with her wedding or claiming.

But with her crowning.

She donned the piece, eyes going wide when it tightened to fit her head. Those vines slithered down, plaiting into her hair.

She faced the mirror once more. Her eyes glowed with purpose. That crown made her look as if she had horns. A true queen of hell.

Now for her accessory. She turned to the scepter she'd modified and lifted it.

Carefully. Her scepter wasn't normally a weapon, but tonight would be no normal night.

Abyssian had made it sound like Saetth's strength was something to be feared; she was counting on it.

Now all she needed was transportation. One of Uthyr's portals would do nicely. With her new power, she no longer feared the Morior dragon.

As she set out from the tower, the castle assisted her, its clockwork pieces shifting to provide the most direct route to the throne room.

When she entered, the imposing dragon was leaning against the terrace doorway, a contemplative expression on his scaled face.

"King Uthyr."

He went motionless, except for his rippling tail. Then he turned his great body toward her and eased closer.

"I'm Queen Calliope."

His brow furrowed as his gaze lighted upon her crown. He extended his long neck, leaning in, far too close for comfort. She cringed when he sniffed the crown. After lingering on the horns, he drew back his giant head with a thunderstruck look.

She'd sensed the uniqueness of her crown, but hadn't thought other creatures would. "Abyssian told me you can create portals."

He nodded. She could have sworn she saw both approval and amusement in his expression.

"I'm late for my fiance's gala, so you are going to open a rift to Sylvan for me."

His canted head so clearly said: I am?

"I'm the queen of hell, the sole sovereign of Pandemonia. Abyssian won't be returning. You may stay in my kingdom, if you serve me."

Golden eyes gleaming, he drew back his wing and made a flourishing bow. --Then your wish is my command.--


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