106. Ayres
Ayres knocked on the wooden door so hard it shot sharp pain through his knuckles. He waited for half a beat before breaking the lock and throwing it open. The Guardian’s chambers were large, and Ayres had only ever seen one room. She had a welcoming space that had a small fountain in the middle of it decorated with marble statues of old Guardians. A couple of tables had been pushed against the walls that were scattered with papers, and large plants sprouted out of their pots by the windows, now growing up the walls with long vines.
Ayres had always thought this room was a perfect escape for the Guardian—on normal days. But this was not a normal day.
The Guardian was halfway across the stone floor, and she stopped mid-step and bowed her head slightly when she saw him. “Hello, Prince.”
A growl ripped out from his lips before he could stop it. He stalked over to her and bared his teeth. “If you fucking touch her again I will rip out your throat and then feed the pieces to you.”
A shadow crossed over the Guardian’s face, and her lips pressed together. “I did not intend for my actions to go as far as they did.”
He stepped closer to her and snarled, forcing himself not to reach out and throttle her. “Nothing was left intact on her back. You left her in ribbons.”
The Guardian took a step away from him and lowered her gaze to the floor. “Ayres, please understand—”
“No, you understand me.” Ayres barely recognized his own voice as it deepened into a lethal, aggressive purr. “If you touch her again, if a single scratch from you mars her skin again, I will not hesitate to obliterate everything that you are.”
A snort-like breath ripped out of the Guardian’s nose and her blue eyes finally flickered up to him. “So, she is the one then?”
Ayres ignored her, his teeth gritted so hard his jaw throbbed. “Do you understand me, Guardian?”
There was a pregnant pause as the Guardian studied him with wary eyes, noticing the faint glow of his tattoos and the muscles straining in his neck before nodding once. He doubted she feared death in the slightest, but he had nothing left to threaten her with besides violence.
Ayres flashed his teeth at her again and turned towards the door.
“This competition needs to end swiftly, Prince. If Greywood is the one you all want to choose as your next Guardian, then we need to move into action immediately,” the Guardian said, ignoring his dismissal.
Ayres froze and slowly looked at her from over her shoulder. “The Choosing is still in motion. I do not know if Rorax is the best choice.”
“May I offer you a suggestion then, Prince?” One of The Guardian’s eyes twitched. “Make your choice between Roraxiva and Enna. Isgra would simply become the next Vadik, and the Realms will not survive another Guardian like him.”
Vadik, the Western Guardian. Cruel and arrogant, Vadik was rumored to be deeply loyal to the House of Alloy.
His brows furrowed. “Isgra is nothing like Vadik.”
“She will be.” The Guardian turned away from him and moved toward the fountain in the middle of her room. She slowly reached down and skimmed her fingers across the glassy surface of the water. “Oxana is the only one now with the power to push Vadik back, and she was never one to deny him anything.”
A dark shadow crossed over her face before she pulled her hand back from the water and straightened.
“I am losing my grip on my abilities and my sanity more and more with each passing day, Prince. The magick is starting to rule me, not the other way around. The force tethering me to this world is no longer strong enough to subdue the power of the Guardian and is becoming unstable. It’s deteriorating and becoming difficult to control.”
Ayres raised an eyebrow at her and looked at her up and down, looking for signs that she was losing control. “Do you need to tie together?”
The Guardian shook her head, not looking up at him from the surface of the water. “Unfortunately, our tying ceremonies have become obsolete. They are no longer effective.”
A strange, tight sensation started to creep across his neck. “What do you mean it’s no longer effective?”
The Guardian looked up at Ayres and narrowed her eyes. “I mean, Prince, that if this competition does not end very soon, Roraxiva’s back will be the least of the destruction I inflict upon the Realms. I would say I have another month, two at most, before this body succumbs to the power.”