“How many years?” Abyssian asked, as if the number was significant.

“Eleven.”

“You were thirteen when they ceased guiding you? Then what happened?”

“I went to the mortal realm to live.” Wanting away from this subject, she asked him, “What were your parents like?”

Tone abruptly curt, he said, “I’ve already answered this question for you in a past life.”

She drew back her head. “So am I never going to discover more about you? If so, I guarantee you’ll hear nothing more about me.”

Seeming to grind his fangs, he finally said, “My sire was a warrior and explorer, known for his wiliness. My dam was darkness personified.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means she was beyond most beings’ comprehension.” He drank from his goblet, his unreadable gaze taking her in. “She was a creature of shadow, born from the ether.”

How wild. “Is that where you came by your magic?”

“Possibly some, but this realm fuels the king’s magic, tying it to the ruler’s life force. The king in turn controls the land. Pandemonia and I are symbiotic.”

Fascinating. “So you don’t wield magic off-plane?”

“It’s a luxury I enjoy in my own kingdom—one I have no need of in others.”

“Did Kari come to this realm? Is that how you met her?”

He shook his head, seeming to debate how much he’d reveal. At length, he said, “When I was sixteen, that rift between Sylvan and Pandemonia had just been discovered. Back then, the fey were known as elves. They and the demons were such dissimilar species that mistrust simmered on both sides. So the king of Sylvan and my brother, King Goürlav, agreed that I would be fostered in the elven dimension for a season, learning about their culture. Kari was to be my guide.”

“And then what happened?” Would he finally tell her how she’d “betrayed” him? She braced for his answer.

His claws lengthened around his goblet. “You were a devious spy for Sylvan.”

Oh, shit. Her deadline had just gotten real. If he found out Lila’s ill-fated mission . . .

“You manipulated me into revealing my realm’s weaknesses to you. I told you how defenseless the outland demons were, how they’d rarely learned to teleport or mind-read, preferring a simpler way of life. I admitted how vulnerable Goürlav was, his new powers still developing.” Abyssian’s fangs sharpened. “And you reported those secrets to your father, the king. Armed with that knowledge, he broke his treaty of honor and launched a surprise attack against Pandemonia.”

“Why?”

“To capture and enslave outland demons. Because of your treachery, Goürlav was forced to seal the portal for good—like a tourniquet to stem blood from a ruined limb—abandoning those demons.” No wonder Abyssian had tensed earlier when she’d brought up the rift. “Families were torn apart.”

Realization dawned. “You’re talking about Princess . . . Karinna.”

Nod.

“That’s not the story I was taught.”

“This I must hear.”

“According to the history books, when the Pando-Sylvan rift opened, a demon prince found Karinna playing with her friends. He abducted her, dragging her back to hell.” Myths of Persephone and Hades were said to have arisen from Karinna’s legend. “A demonic army invaded Sylvan for more females and treasures, but Karinna figured out their weaknesses and escaped. Back in Sylvan, she gave her father all the information he needed to protect the realm. The worst of the captured marauders were enslaved as punishment.”

Karinna had been a rallying cry for millennia, a type of fey martyr. Her name was a reminder never to forget the mindless violence demons were capable of.

Am I Karinna?

Abyssian bit out, “The fey history books have it wrong. The elves attacked us.”

“Why should I believe you?” she asked, though she . . . did, despite her feelings about Abyssian. He had no reason to lie, would just baldly say, Yes, we struck.

And Sylvan had a long history of enslaving invaders. Strange, though: for a pastoral realm with few natural resources, Sylvan had been “invaded” constantly.

“Believe me because I was there. And if I’d abducted a female and dragged her to hell—she’d fucking still be in hell.”

Instead Karinna had gotten pregnant by another male and died. “Who did she marry?” Lila had never read anything on her husband.

Abyssian drank deeply. “A king of another fey realm.”

If—when—this demon found out about Lila’s betrothal to a fey king, he would lose his shit.

“And now you know your past crimes.” His version of the story did make the princess sound treacherous.

Even so, Lila was sick of paying for others’ sins.

Because of her parents, Lila had been exiled. Because of Karinna’s actions, Lila had been captured by a Møriør. Because of Magh, she’d been hunted all her life by Rune.

While Lila could understand the archer’s vendetta, she didn’t want to pay for it with her life. Her worst crimes had been snobbery and ignorance, and she’d shed those weaknesses in her teens.

I never did anything to the archer.

She would take responsibility for her own actions, but she was done shouldering undue blame. At least in this life, she was trying to hurt someone—yet only to strike back against an enemy. “What happened to you back then?”

“A trusted general smuggled me back here just before Goürlav sealed the portal.”

“If what you say is true, then I’m surprised you’ve never retaliated against Sylvan in all this time.”

“I made a vow to wait for this Accession. The Møriør’s attack is imminent.”

Just as Nïx had said. Lila had to warn Sylvan. Her escape just became that much more critical. “In this conversation, you’ve revealed weaknesses to me. Aren’t you afraid history will repeat itself?”

He bared his fangs. “Don’t you understand? I want a fey invasion. The weaknesses of old no longer exist, and my power is vast. If your kind step into hell, they’ll be trapped in torment.” At his words, the lands rumbled.

She swallowed. “Why would you confide in Karinna? Were you two lovers?”