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I’m hopeful Timothy will join us for dinner, but that’s dashed when we step into the room and he’s not there.

Then I see the envelopes.

There is one sitting at every place setting. They’re black, thick, and heavy beneath my fingertips, with our names written across the front. On the back is a small bronze seal pressed into the center, the pentagram raised in the wax.

“What is this?” I ask.

Damon picks his up, turning it over in his hand. “No clue.”

Hunter has already broken the seal. He unfolds the paper inside, his eyes moving slowly over the words before he looks up.

“It’s an invitation.” He clears his throat and reads aloud, “You are invited to attend the Ritus Trium. A ceremonial event held at the turning of the Spring Equinox. The ceremony will take place at the altar at midnight. Three will enter. Three will be bound by oath. Three will carry the legacy forward.”

I open the one with my name on it, scanning the same words and see added at the bottom, “Ceremonial attire is mandatory.”

For several seconds, none of us says anything. Then Damon looks at Hunter. “Any idea what this means?”

Hunter shakes his head. “I guess Timothy wants to celebrate the equinox.”

I glance at the black envelope next to my plate.

Something tells me this isn't just a celebration, but we quickly eat dinner and then prepare for midnight. I take my time, pulling on a black slip dress before adding the cloak. The black fabric is heavier than it looks, made almost entirely of lace that drapes over my shoulders and down my back in intricate patterns.

As instructed, just before the day changes, we meet at the tunnel entrance—the one I took the night of the Hunt. The boys are dressed in black cloaks, the heavy fabric falling around their bodies and concealing most of what they wear beneath it. Each has a bronze pentagram fastened at his throat, the metal catching the torchlight whenever they move.

At the iron gate that leads outside, a Shadow waits to guide us into the night.

The air is cool against my skin, carrying the damp scent of earth and pine. We move into the woods together, following the narrow trail toward the altar. With every step, I shed the memories of the first night I entered these woods.

I’m no longer that version of Arianette, and the men walking with me are no longer the same either. And it seems, when the altar rises out of the darkness, we’re not the only thing that’s changed.

Torches have been planted around the clearing, their flames throwing restless orange light across the trees. The altar sits at the center, its stone surface dark beneath the moonlight. A bronze chalice waits on top of it beside a ceremonial dagger. Next to them are other objects, and just seeing them makes my skin crawl.

The wooden case that my uncle gave Timothy before our wedding. It holds the rod used to punish me and keep me obedient. Beside it is the bronze mask with the ram horns. It’s less threatening now, but still, my heart pounds, wondering why it's here. What’s the purpose of these items?

There’s no opportunity to ask, because the Shadows move around us, forming a circle around the altar, their dark robes making them almost indistinguishable from one another. I know Slade and Jace are there. Carson and Patrick and the others that have remained loyal while others caved to Amber’s deviousness.

There’s something else I notice—the King's throne has been removed, replaced by a roaring bonfire. Damon and Hunter both notice, their gaze moving over the altar before settling on me, and I can see the same questions reflected in their eyes.

Timothy steps from the shadows and my heart stutters. Every time I see him without his mask, I’m struck by how handsome he is. How that beard feels against my skin, both scratchy and soft. But it’s not just the mask that’s missing. He isn't wearing the robes of the King. He is dressed exactly like my Barons, in black, with the bronze symbol resting against his throat. There is no crown. No throne. No indication that he intends to stand above the others tonight.

He walks to the altar and faces us. “Welcome,” he says, his voice carrying through the clearing. “To the Ritus Trium.”

Timothy looks at Damon, Hunter, and then me.

“For generations, the Barons have been governed by men who believed power needed a single face. A single voice. A single hand at the top controlling the players on the board.” His gaze moves briefly toward the space where the King's throne once stood. “I can attest that the only places that kind of power leads is to hate, distrust, and isolation.”

He stands over the altar, fire burning behind him like a dark god.

“If you read the texts, it’s clear that the Barons have never been about one man,” Timothy continues. “It’s always been about transcendence. We’re made to shift through worlds—through territories—assisting in the balance between life and death, good and evil. We’re chosen to assist nature.” He shakes his head, seemingly disappointed in himself. “Amber was right. I forgot my path—I became focused on never being hurt again. I wanted control over everything, but primarily myself. I spent my days fighting against the cold fingers of death. I worked hard to hone my body into perfection, steeled myself against aging. I consumed supplements, abstained from alcohol and other substances. It wasn’t out of balance or whatever bullshit I told myself.” He takes a breath. “It was out of fear.”

The confession is raw and unguarded.

“All of that work, the ice-cold baths and meditation and maximizing my body to fight off the ticking of time—it didn’t matter. I learned that the hard and painful way. Death doesn’t give a fuck about how many pull-ups I can do. Death came for me anyway.” His eyes meet mine. “And I’d let it a million times over for the same results.”

For saving me.

“When I emerged from the veil, I knew I didn’t just beat death. I got a second chance,” he admits. “And I’m not going to waste it by going back to the man I was before, and neither will the Barons. It’s the Spring Equinox—a time of rebirth and renewal. To plant the seeds of what and who we will become moving forward. It is also time to destroy the things we no longer want to thrive.”