“I will join you. I will take back what is mine,” Sterling heard herself say.

  When Gavaran held out a hand to her, she stepped forward and placed her own in his.

  Except none of it was her. The voices had once again taken control. They were the ones who’d used her magic to keep her friends and family away. They were the ones moving her mouth and her body.

  Sterling was only a passenger, watching it all unfold around her.

  She tried to push back, but the voices were stronger.

  You want this, they hissed.

  And they were right. She did want this. It was her birthright to be Queen, but this was not how she’d wanted to take it.

  You do not need them. You have us, the voices said, reading her thoughts. They would keep you from this, but we won’t let them.

  But they wouldn’t, would they? They wanted her to take back Nyrene. They wanted her to take her crown.

  “Don’t do this, Sterling. Walk away from this.” Isn’t that what Seraiah had shouted at her? The voices were right. Her sister didn’t want her to take her throne.

  She doesn’t want you to have power. She is jealous.

  Sterling stopped fighting the voices as they rose in the air. She was vaguely aware of elven soldiers firing arrows at her family and friends, forcing them to flee. That was all right, though. Now they would not stand in her way. Now she could fix things.

  As Sterling stared out at the sea of faces looking up at her, an emotion she couldn’t place filled her. She had no idea if it was her own or a feeling the voices had planted. The cries of ‘Long live the Queen’ filled her ears, drowning out anything the voices might have whispered to her.

  The points of Gavaran’s nails dug into the delicate skin of her wrist with each cheer, distracting her from further thoughts of the voices. They reminded her of a time not long ago in an underground prison—reminded her he was the reason she had been kidnapped in the first place.

  He would get what was coming to him in due time. Once she’d made up her mind on how she wanted to exact her revenge. It wouldn’t be the same as what she had done to the vile human man who’d broken her nose. Oh no. Gavaran didn’t deserve the easy end she’d given that man.

  She planned to make it so much worse.

  When the cheers finally died, and they were lowered back to the ground, the sea of elves parted to form a path directly to the massive dragon gates. Gavaran didn’t let go of her wrist as he led her toward those gates and her city.

  Sterling tolerated his hold for a few steps, assuming he would let go when it became clear she had no intention of running. When he didn’t release her, she ripped her arm from his grip on her own. Or maybe the voices did it for her. Either way, a queen was not supposed to be led around like a child.

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  Gavaran’s mouth opened, likely ready to tell her off, but when his gaze met hers, he quickly closed it again, dropping back to walk at her heels.

  As it should be, the voices whispered.

  With head held high and back ramrod straight, Sterling marched into her kingdom to ascend her throne.

  The walk through the city to the castle was a long one, but Sterling didn’t mind. As far as she could tell, the voices had given her back control of her body, so she was free to look around her kingdom. Perhaps a queen would have preferred to ride in a carriage, but Sterling wanted to see and be seen by her people.

  She’d only walked a short distance, but already she could tell things were not as they should be. She’d heard enough from Seraiah, Kai, and Kestrel to know that this was not the kingdom they’d left behind.

  The smell of smoke and animal excrement mingled in the air, growing so strong at times that Sterling struggled not to gag. As she ran her eyes over the people who had gathered along the edges of the road, Sterling was reminded of the humans back in Ratha.

  The people of Ratha had been broken after enduring many years of brutal winter weather. The elves of Nyrene hadn’t had to face the same conditions, and yet she recognized the similarities in their posture.

  Unlike those who had greeted her outside the gates, many dared not even lift their eyes to look at her as she passed. The others must have been Gavaran’s supporters and his soldiers. These people here were the regular citizens, and they were afraid. Sterling didn’t blame them, having seen the heads on pikes. Gavaran’s rule had not been kind to them, but that was about to change. She would fix this. She would be the leader they needed.

  They will bow to you. They will all bow to you. Or you will bring them to their knees.

  Enough, Sterling pushed back against the voices lest they decide to take control again.

  They went silent, but she knew they were not gone.

  By the time they reached the castle, Sterling’s feet ached, and she was feeling the exhaustion of the journey to reach Nyrene.

  “Cylan will show you to your rooms,” Gavaran said with a wave of his hand. He didn’t even bother to look at her before he stalked off somewhere else.

  Cylan, she learned, was the elf who had been with Gavaran when they’d first appeared in Seraiah’s camp.

  “Follow me, Your Highness.” Cylan bowed to her before leading her in the opposite direction Gavaran had gone.

  Cylan led her up staircase after staircase, taking her to what must be the highest tower. When they reached the top, he held the door open for her with a flourish.

  “Your rooms, my Queen,” he said with a dazzling smile that didn’t meet his blue eyes. Those remained cold and lifeless.

  “Thank you. You may go.”

  Cylan bowed low again before retreating down the stairs.

  When Sterling was sure he was gone, she stepped into her rooms, closing the door firmly behind her.

  It was exactly as Seraiah had described.

  At the thought of her sister, a thorn of pain pricked Sterling’s heart. Seraiah had tried so hard to keep her from here, but she’d failed. Seraiah was mistaken. Whatever was growing in her was not something they could fight together. Sterling had to do it on her own, and in the meantime, her people needed her. She couldn’t abandon them in their time of suffering. Seeing their faces had only reaffirmed that she’d made the right choice—or the voices had made the right choice for her. She was meant to retake her throne.

  Exhaustion tugged on her as she strode down the hallway and into the main living area, but Sterling wasn’t quite ready to give in yet and sleep. First, she needed to see it.

  From where they’d been on the other side of Nyrene, she hadn’t been able to catch a glimpse, but she’d been able to smell it—salty and fresh—before the stench of the city had overwhelmed it.

  Sterling pushed open the door to her balcony and took a deep breath. Before her, a wide expanse of blue water glittered under the morning sun. The gentle whoosh of the waves meeting the base of the cliff far below her just reached her ears.

  She leaned against the railing, then closed her eyes.

  A sense of calm settled over her, and she smiled. Even though she’d never been here before, she could feel it in her bones and knew in her heart.

  She was home.