Breathing hard, I stared at the ground, at his shiny black shoes and whispered, “I surrender...” Raising my eyes to his, I added, “Conditionally.” It was insane adding that part, but I had to try.

Kreturus’ eyebrow pulled up as he placed his hands in his pockets. Cocking his head, he asked, “And may I inquire as to what this condition is?” There was laughter in his voice—amusement. It was as if the peasant were commanding the king.

My fingers were twisting in the folds of the fabric on my dress. A nervous tick. When his eyes drifted to the motion, I realized what I was doing and stopped. Swallowing hard, I placed my arms at my sides. They hung there rigid as tension crawled across my shoulders, and down my spine. Looking him in the eye, I said, “I surrender. Fully. Eternally. I’ll be your queen. You can use my power. I won’t protest,” he didn’t blink once while I spoke. “But... you cannot destroy those of my choosing.” I worded it vaguely on purpose. I didn’t want to get caught on a technicality by calling Collin, Eric, Lorren and Jenna Marie people.

The corners of his mouth curved. “Then you would have me destroy no one, which will interfere with my plans. Plans I will reveal to you shortly. And Ivy, I will keep my word. It will be our pact. If I make a promise, I will abide by it, but I cannot offer more than one life. I will spare one being of your choosing. No more. No less.” His dark eyes studied my face. His arms were folded, with a single hand touching his chin. It was as if he was excited and trying to contain it.

I’m sure my thoughts were scribbled across my face at that moment. I’d wanted to save anyone I deemed worthy—which would be everyone. I didn’t even seek vengeance on Shannon, or any of the Martis who tried to kill me. I couldn’t.

Swallowing hard, I stared into his gaze without blinking as I thought. Only one. I could only save one person. Instantly, I thought of Collin. But... I didn’t want harm to come to Eric either. Or Jenna Marie. Her kindness made me question everything I knew. She had the traits that I admired in Al. Pressing my eyes closed, I turned away. My fingers pressed into my temples. One person. I could only save one person. That was unacceptable, and yet, it was the best I could do. Turning back to him, I straightened. My bare shoulders squared off, and my gown swished around my ankles as I took two steps toward him.

It was my fate. My choice.

I looked into Kreturus’ face. He stood confident, relaxed—as if this wasn’t a pivotal moment at all. His lazy gaze slid over my face, dipping to my waist and back up to my eyes. I thrust out my hand, and said, “I accept.”

Kreturus grabbed my hand, and yanked me toward him. His eyes glowed with greed. Satisfaction dripped from every perfectly formed muscle on his body as his hand slid around my waist. “Done.” The weight of his words was palpable. My body steeled at his touch, forcing back any emotion he was trying to instill within me. His hand brushed the curls from my shoulder. His gaze drifted to my neck. Heart racing, I stood perfectly still, not knowing what he was doing.

When he spoke his voice was deeper, full of desire, “Darkness calls to darkness. I feel it inside of you, yearning to be of use. And it will be. Soon.” He brushed a kiss against my neck. The vein in my neck throbbed as his lips pressed the soft skin above it. I wanted to be steel in that moment. Feel nothing. I wanted the control, but it was beyond my control. It was as he said. Something about him called to me. It scared me and thrilled me at the same time. As his lips brushed my neck, a gush of air rushed out of my body. My knees buckled and were powerless to hold me. My mind swam, as his soft lips touched my throat, making my heart pound harder. I hated him. I hated what he was and that he trapped me.

Kreturus’ eyes returned to my face. A smile twisted on his lips, utterly confident. Utterly certain. “A ritual is required to make you Queen. It will join us together, for eternity. We need a chalice. Come,” he took my hand. Heat surged through us, but the effonation didn’t hurt. Kreturus pulled me tightly against his chest, and released me shortly after. We were in a dark home. Torn drapes hung haphazardly in the windows, as if they would fall at any second. The sky bled deep red, with gray snow clouds stretched across the heavens. Plumes of gray smoke filled the air. The house smelled of ash and charred wood.

Glancing around I asked, “Why didn’t it hurt? Where did the pain price go?” Where are we? His broad shoulders were already turned away from me, but he stopped, turning back to answer.

“We are near the place of your birth.” Startled, I looked up at him, wondering if the question was on my face or if he plucked it out of my mind. Terror coursed through me, but I pressed it back. I was enabling the demon to destroy everything. That is what I was doing. That was the only thing I could think... because if he heard the things in my heart—he’d know. He may know what I planned already. He continued, “Others pay the pain price for us. We feel only pleasure.” He watched me, taking in my sickened reaction.

My jaw dropped while he spoke. My hands lifted, as if I could fix it. I wanted to fix it. “I don’t want anyone paying my price.”

He smirked, “That’s very noble of you, but your request is denied. And soon you will see why. When creatures like us—beings with our vast power—try to use it, the price is too great for one person to bear alone. I bet Locoicia taught you to endure more pain than any demon thought possible,” his smirk faded as he spoke of her with his eyes narrowing into slits. “And perhaps you did, but when we fight you will not have time to rest. There will be no reprieve. Others must shoulder our pain. It is their burden, as it is our right.” He walked into the darkened house, turning his back to me. Dreanoks and grackles shot into the sky like someone had thrown a stone.

I stared through the window. Reaching for my power, I tried to effonate again, but only felt the power dulled. It was drained away like it was before. It felt like water dousing a spark. I turned my shoulders toward him, hearing Kreturus tutting, “Still trying to leave? Don’t bother. We are connected. You cannot use your power without my permission.” Rage flamed inside of me, but I tried to remain docile. The thought of asking his permission for anything was deplorable.

Turning toward me, Kreturus held a black glass in his hand. It was the size of a wine glass with an ornately carved stem. It was a woman, standing half naked, draped in cloth triumphantly holding up the cup above her head. Long curly tendrils of soft hair fell down her back. Lifeless black eyes stared at me, making my breath catch in my throat.

Kreturus held out the goblet for me to take, “You recognize her?” I nodded slowly, stunned. Trying to swallow. Trying to figure out what this was. “Hmm, there is a great likeness, but you are more beautiful than the prophet predicted. Ivy, this is the thirteenth prophecy. It shows what will happen—what your kind fears most. Take it. Examine it. See that you are the means by which we win, and take pride in who you are. Your beauty. Your power. The darkness that lies within you. There is a reason you were the Prophecy One.” His voice deepened as he spoke.

My fingers wrapped around the goblet in fascinated horror. I rolled the stem to examine the upper portion of the chalice, which was even more ornate. It depicted scenes of demons brandishing weapons, and slaying angels. The skies were filled with fighting, as was the earth. The demons crawled upward from the stem in a vast army that was far greater than the scattered angels spread in the heavens. The demon’s deformed bodies were twisted and hunched. Their hands were tearing off the wings of prone angels that had fallen in battle.

I stood there holding the glass, horrified. My jaw wouldn’t move. It just hung there. Open. I couldn’t think.

Kreturus reached for the cup and spoke as he turned from me. His lean form walked toward the remains of a wooden liquor cabinet. He stood with his back to me like he was mixing a bar drink. “You shouldn’t mourn them. All this time you’ve seen that good and evil are merely labels that people assign to make themselves feel better. The Martis are good. The Valefar are evil.” His voice was mocking. He turned, glancing over his shoulder, “And yet, you saw that was untrue. You surround yourself with demonic beings and call them friends, do you not? The Martis shunned you, and called for your death. They assassinated their own. Anyone who spoke against them. That is not goodness and light.” He walked back toward me. The chalice was full. Its dark contents were at the rim.

I remained silent standing in front of the window. The red glow of the sky lit the room with faint light, lining my figure in the window frame. I clutched my hands together in front of me. Demons lied. But Kreturus wasn’t lying now. I agreed with his words, which frightened me. Stopping in front of me, he said, “We are more alike than you would care to admit.” His gaze bore into mine, but I didn’t flinch or look away. “Why would you favor them over us, when mere titles no longer convey meaning?”

That was a good question, a question that I hadn’t yet pondered and no longer had time to consider. But his challenge made something flare to life inside of me. And I knew why. “You are right. There is more than good and evil. Most of life, and most people, fall into the gray—that spot between the two. A good man might do something horrid. A bad woman might do a good deed. It means that no one is intrinsically evil. Or absolutely good. It means they have a choice. By siding with you, I remove the choice. I’m saying decimation is preferred, above free will.”

“There would be no need for decimation if they would submit,” his eyes shone as he forcefully spoke, sounding more like a king than a demon. “A ruler cannot allow his people to ignore him. He commands them and they must listen.” His dark brows were pulled together, irritated. “Your examples are naive. They ignore the obvious.”

I smirked, “Yeah? And what is that?”

He pressed closer to me, careful not to spill the contents of the chalice. His hand brushed against my bodice as he held the glass flush with his chest. He was so close that I could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke. “Beings have an innate desire to be ruled. They want to submit. Very few fight against it. And that is what a leader does, meets the needs of the masses.” My lips twisted into an incredulous smile, but he snapped, cutting me off, “Wipe that look off your face. Just as the world will submit to you, you will submit to me. Respect is mandatory.”

The smile on my face faded as I considered him. He didn’t sound insane. Why did I think demons were evil? Was it possible I was wrong?

As soon as the thought surfaced, Kreturus placed his hand on my bare shoulder, jerking the thought away. He glanced at the glass in his hand, and back up at my face. “A blood bargain, willingly entered cannot be broken. This right will make you Queen. You will command the Underworld after this day. It will be your domain. I will command the heavens and the earth, after the last angel falls.”

I stared at him, and at the cup—the lost prophecy that showed the angels losing. I was about to make another blood bargain. My eyes flicked up to his. There was a question pressing on my mind—one that I wasn’t certain if I should make known or not—my blood bargain with Locoicia. I didn’t know what would happen if I joined Kreturus and didn’t kill him. I didn’t think it would cause me to default since our pact was for the knowledge, not murder. But the murder was implied.