“So you will force her,” he said casually. “That sounds very much like what Xakiel would have done.” “My father planned to violate her for five years and send her back in pieces to Issos. That is not my plan.” “Forcing her to be your mizrah and keeping her prisoner here isn’t all that much better.” “Keffa,” I snapped with warning. “It must be done.” None of us knew who the female of Dalya’s vision was, not until I laid eyes on Una in the throne room and had seen her wings. Her black wings. They’d grown back in the hue of my home, Näkt Mir, a palace carved into the volcanic obsidian left behind
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