It was him. Prince Casteel Da’Neer of Atlantia. The Dark One. “An Atlantian, unlike a wolven or an Ascended, can’t be killed by a stab to the heart,” he growled, yanking my head farther back. “If you wanted to kill me, you should’ve aimed for the head, Princess. But worse yet, you forgot.” “Forgot what?” “That it was real.”
