Lord of Embers(The Demon Queen Trials #2)(55)

Lured by the promise of food, I started running, kicking up snow behind me. The forest didn’t disappoint. Water swirled between rocks, and rainbow trout slowly swam in a pool.

My claws came out, my mouth already watering. Ignoring the freezing cold, I waded in to catch my dinner.

A HEAVY SNOW fell around us. For the first time, I was training with a full belly, and I felt strong. Tammuz swiped at me, claws out, and I dodged him. Momentum brought his head down, and I punched him twice, exactly like he’d taught me.

As he recovered, I thought I saw a faint smile.

WRAPPED in a blanket before the hearth, I soaked my feet in warm water, muscles burning, and slowly ate a piece of venison jerky. Months of endless winter had passed. Maybe a year.

After the great trout discovery, I’d grown strong and fast enough to hunt deer with a knife. For the past two months, meat had been on the menu.

Chewing, I leaned back and let my calves soak in the warm water.

Outside, the sun was starting to set.

The passage of time here confused me, and it didn’t help that I’d died so many times. After the initial hanging, at least all the deaths Tammuz delivered had been mercifully quick. Each time he’d ripped my heart out, death had come too soon for me to register the pain. So far, I hadn’t managed to return the favor, not once.

Each time he killed me, I awakened surrounded by snow and bone-white mushrooms and the vague impression that I’d seen Mom again.

Each time, I was wearing a brand-new warrior’s outfit.

All night, I ran and sparred. I built my muscles. I learned to hit and kick and bring out my claws. I died, again and again. I learned to summon fire, to unleash my wings. Over and over, I practiced, using my demonic strength and sense of balance in ways that mortals could not. I leapt high, swinging from branches. I learned how to inflict damage with my elbows and how to hover in the air to kick.

Sometimes, when the Dying God had a blade to my throat and the shadows whipped around him, I’d feel the familiar sting of fear, but it wasn’t the same, not like it once had been.

I’d learned. I knew now that it would all be over, and fast.

I returned from being dead again and again. The old terror no longer clung to me, sliding away like pasta coated in oil.

I finished the jerky and picked up my mug of hot pine needle tea.

The steam swirled around me. Soon, I’d be asleep on the floor. Every time I curled up on the bear skin rug, I’d think of Orion and the first time we’d come here. And that was how I drifted off to sleep each morning.

A lonely sort of peace had found me in this cabin and quiet isolation.

Only one thing troubled me now: did I have it in me to take Orion down?

What if the only way to stop him was to kill him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it?





C H A P T E R 2 9 — R O W A N

T he months stretched on, and my patience with the Dying God wore thin. I stood across from him in the clearing, ice daggers glittering from the tree branches around us. I felt infinitely stronger now than I once had, ready to take on anything, but he still didn’t think I was ready.

Snowflakes drifted around us, sparkling in the moonlight. Dark, smoky magic twined around him, a tunic of shadows against his bronzed skin.

Tammuz moved in a blur of speed, but I was ready for him this time. I’d learned through painful trial and error that you couldn’t simply lunge for a demon’s heart—he’d find a way to protect it, pivoting away on instinct. I’d felt the same impulse every time Tammuz had darted toward me, and I’d turn, taking his claws in my shoulder or back.

Anything but the heart, and a demon would be fine, recovering almost instantly. So when Tammuz wanted to kill me, he’d beat the shit out of me first, raining blows and punches to my head, until my reflexes slowed and I staggered, forgetting to shield.

While I wasn’t so scared of death anymore, I was done with getting hit in the head. And the loneliness cut me down to my bones.

“Tammuz,” I said, “you’ve got to let me go at some point.”

Snow fell on his bare shoulders and arms and melted into glistening droplets. “No.”

I sighed. “Are you lonely? Is that it?” I knew why he was keeping me here. It was no fun for the god of chaos if I didn’t stand a chance in the fight for the throne, but I was tired of being controlled.

He faded into the shadows and appeared behind me. “You don’t fight like you want to kill yet, Rowan. You fight like it’s your hobby.

You need to connect with your rage.”

I didn’t want to kill Orion, but maybe that wasn’t who I needed to think about when I fought.

I closed my eyes, envisioning my half brother, Cambriel, hunting Mom through the woods. I pictured him unleashing an arc of fire on her. She’d burned to death trying to protect me.

Ice-cold rage slid through my veins. I turned to face the Dying God, but Tammuz had changed. He’d transformed into the false king, his dark hair lightened to pale blond. A golden crown rested on his head.

Cambriel. I hated that arrogant prick.

This was what I’d dedicated my life to—revenge. And finally, I was strong enough to make it mine.

He’d killed my whole family, all because he was desperate to stay on a throne he never deserved.

Fury cracked through my body like lightning. As he moved forward, swinging a punch at me, I grabbed his arm, blocking the blow, and slammed my other hand into his trapped arm. A bone cracked, and Cambriel grunted in pain.