32. Chapter 32 #2
Cyrus hid himself behind the veil as he stepped into her mind. As much as he wanted to find out what had happened, there was something he needed to do first.
Something he’d promised.
He quickly sifted through her memories of the women around her, specifically for Orion’s woman.
And he knew the moment he saw her.
Orion had a gift with the pen, creating portraits of Vitalia’s exact likeness, and it appeared he was right in his assumption she was a maid.
Perhaps she was even a friend. Orion would be happy to know she was taken care of, maybe it would even tide him over for a while. Cyrus would tell him she was well.
Until he found another memory of her in Norah’s mind.
One of her not well.
Vitalia’s green eyes stared back at him, dulled by death, as she lay on a stone floor. Spilled wine from an overturned chalice pooled and soaked the long blond hair around her head.
Orion’s woman was dead.
He watched through Norah’s memories as the Mercian castle descended into chaos. This must have been during the coup.
“ Where are you? ” Norah demanded, her anger echoing through every corner of her mind.
Cyrus swallowed back the dismay; he couldn’t linger on Orion’s woman for long. He’d have to make sense of it later and for now focus on the situation with Norah.
And why she was so upset.
He rifled through her most recent memories.
His blood ran cold.
His wrath of birds had reached the Shadowlands, and not just the ones that had been in his courtyard.
They’d somehow pulled a whole flock with them.
He hadn’t been particularly sure what they’d do when his rage had sent them; he hadn’t sent them with a specific directive.
But now he watched her memory in horror as the small animals struck the tower of the Shadow castle by the hundreds, raining down their feathered deaths over the commander. And over Norah , who’d been with him.
No… Those hadn’t been meant for her.
“ Alexander! ” she seethed again.
It wasn’t just anger in her voice. It was hurt. She sank down into a chair at her vanity, her strength leaving her. “ Alexander. ”
This wasn’t how he’d imagined himself returning to her.
“ I know you’re there ,” she said.
Did she? He hadn’t thought he’d revealed himself. But slowly, he stepped from behind the veil.
She didn’t stand when she saw him. She only looked at him with a deep sadness in her eyes. “ Did you send the birds? ” she asked. Her voice cracked as she spoke. “ Did you do that? ”
He stepped closer. There was no way for him to explain what had happened, how he hadn’t meant to, how he wished he hadn’t.
Her lip trembled, and she shook her head. “ Why? ”
Cyrus stepped even closer.
“ Why would you do that to me? ” she whispered. “ How could you do that? ”
She grew even smaller in the chair as she sat. The pain in her eyes knifed him. She loved him. She’d trusted him.
He had to say something now. He had to tell her…
Slowly, he sank to his knees in front of her, dropping down eye to eye.
“ What happened to you? ” she whispered. A tear trailed her face as she brought her hand to his cheek. “ Is there anything left of the Alexander I knew? ”
He couldn’t lie to her anymore. He couldn’t deceive her anymore. Ever so slowly, he shook his head.
Her breath hitched as she pulled back. “ Then you’re not Alexander. If you were, you aren’t anymore. Not truly. ”
Again, he shook his head, and she sucked in a ragged breath.
Why did he always do this—hurt the people who cared? He took her hand and pulled it back to his cheek.
A sob escaped as more tears spilled from her eyes.
“ Grandmother’s dying ,” she said.
Wait—the queen regent?
“ Without her, I don’t know what to do. ” She shook her head.
“ And without you too. ” Her voice was barely a whisper now.
“I’m trying not to hate you for leaving me, but I do.
I do sometimes. ” She pulled her hands from his and wiped her face.
“ Mikael is taking me back to Mercia tomorrow. ” She paused as she looked down.
“ This is the last time I’ll call you. ”
No. No, no… He couldn’t let her say goodbye again. He couldn’t let her go. He shook his head.
She brought her fingers back to his face. She touched him like she held the world in her hands, and he couldn’t speak.
“ Goodbye, Alexander ,” she whispered.
And she broke the bond.
Cyrus sat quietly long after Norah had left him.
That was it. He knew that was it. She wouldn’t call him back again.
It was his own fault. He’d ruined it, and he’d lost a valuable asset against the Shadow King.
And something more…
He hadn’t thought he was particularly attached to Norah, but the way she looked at him, the way she spoke to him, the way she touched him…
He wanted to be looked at that way.
And spoken to that way.
Touched that way.
His whole life, he’d prided himself in not needing anyone or anything. It had been blissful ignorance. He hadn’t known. He hadn’t known how it felt .
But as his mind shifted back to the Shadow King, a thought came to him.
A thought of madness.
An opportunity. And he couldn’t waste it.
He needed to talk to Everan.
Cyrus found him in the main hall with Kord and Orion.
“The queen is on her way back to Mercia,” he told them as he hurried toward them. “And the Shadow King is with her.”
“She called you again?” Everan asked in surprise.
Cyrus nodded. “Her grandmother is dying, and he’s taking her back. If I travel to the stone circle, I can get ahead of him and be waiting when he passes through.”
“You’re going to kill her husband while her grandmother is dying?” Kord crossed his arms. “That’s cold.”
War was cold.
Everan’s dark eyes were fixed on Cyrus. “Is that really what you’re planning to do?”
Cyrus didn’t feel like he even needed to answer that.
Everan shook his head. “Cyrus, if you march the army again, it will bring war with the empire, and we’re not prepared for that.”
“Are we not?” Wasn’t this what they’d been working toward? Wasn’t this what he’d suffered Gregor for? “Regardless, it doesn’t matter. I’m not taking the army.”
A line trenched Everan’s forehead as he shifted back on his heel. “You can’t go alone.”
“He won’t have his army with him—he’s accompanying his queen, not marching to war.”
Kord snorted. “He won’t have a war army, maybe, but he will have some kind of army. He’d ensure his queen’s protection.”
“My point is that this should be a smaller strike—a targeted attack. I may have an opportunity at him directly, one that I’d never get facing him on a battlefield.”
“I can go with you,” Orion told him, “help get you in.”
Cyrus nodded appreciatively. A swell of guilt weighted his stomach. Cyrus needed to tell him…
“Obviously, we’re all going,” Everan said.
“We’re all going where?” Essandra asked from behind.
They turned.
“I’ll give you one guess,” Kord told her. “Because one guess is really all you need.”
“The Shadow King is traveling to Mercia,” Cyrus said. “If there’s a chance at him… I have to take it.”
Where he expected pushback, there was none. She simply asked, “When do we leave?”
“Today. We’ll travel to the stone circle and wait for him just north.”
She nodded. “I’ll go prepare.”
Kord and Everan followed her out, but Cyrus grabbed Orion to keep him back.
“Hey… I…”
Orion stilled. He didn’t even breathe as his gray eyes locked on Cyrus with a desperate intensity. “Did you see something?”
“I looked through the queen’s mind, and…” This would absolutely crush him. Orion had been looking for this woman for years.
He’d never find her.
He’d never see her again.
But what did a man have if he didn’t have hope?
“It’s not her,” Cyrus said. “She’s not there.”
Orion’s lips parted, and he let out a breath as his shoulders fell. He cast his gaze to the floor, gathering himself, then looked back at Cyrus. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“I’m sure.”
Orion wiped a rough hand over his face. He swallowed and nodded. “Thank you for looking. For trying.” He paused, and they stood in silence. Then an icy fire returned to Orion’s eyes. “I will find her.”
“Yeah,” Cyrus said softly. “Of course you will.”