Chapter Twenty-Five #2
“No,” I repeated, shaking my head for emphasis. “I’m not interested in sharing my future with you.” Maybe I couldn’t grow flowers and berries with supernatural ability, but so what. “The emperor, Astan’s number one man, murdered a pregnant woman. I want nothing to do with any of you.”
“Your only other option is Soal, a horror you cannot yet fathom. Let me show you what life will be like, once he is defeated . . .”
Images invaded my mind in tightly coiled spheres, wrenching a moan from me as they unraveled. One scene after another consumed my attention, each stripping away a layer of calm.
A throne room of glitz and glamour took shape, bright sunlight streaming through stained glass, causing colorful globes to dance within the crystal walls.
Precious gemstones glittered in a floor as clear and blue as an ocean.
Flowers bloomed from above, raining a petal here, a petal there.
A chandelier of vines hung from the center, as big as a house and dripping with pritis stones.
Knowing I was the one who’d created the beauty and splendor in this dream world left my heart fluttering.
A massive dragon-like creature perched at the edge of an inner balcony. Bala, more ferocious than even visions of her promised. She awaited my command, ready to do anything I desired.
Beyond the windows stretched a garden teeming with flowers, trees, fruits, and vegetables. Happy people tended the soil, conversing and laughing as they pulled weeds. Warmth spread through me. They appeared well fed thanks to my skills.
When I spotted Cyrus, my entire being lurched. Shaded by leaves and limbs, we worked alongside people who adored us, pulling bright-orange carrots from the dirt. A dream come true, exactly as Briar Rose had promised. Me, gardening and growing. Belonging. Loved. Helping others.
A gentle breeze lifted a lock of my hair, and Cyrus tenderly smoothed it from my cheek, leaving a small streak of dirt. He snickered and playfully kissed me, spurring laughter from me. We exuded utter joy.
This couldn’t be real. It was too perfect, too special. Too attuned to my deepest desires.
Cyrus was supposedly the host of Astan, yet in this vision he was nothing like the merciless brute who’d instructed an emperor to pit his grandsons against each other.
I closed my eyes, but the action only shifted the scene, unveiling a moonlit field of dewy flowers, where Cyrus and I danced, the rest of the world forgotten.
We gazed at each other with intense longing but also an air of playfulness.
I wore a loose, pale-pink gown encrusted with diamonds, the hem swaying over a lush plain of grass.
“You, sweetness, are my everything,” he rasped in my ear.
“Am I?” I replied, a husky tease. “Prove it.”
“You mean my adoring gaze, the two worlds I gifted you, and the things I did to your body this morning weren’t enough?” He tsk-tsked, six gold stars flashing in his irises, there and gone.
“Excellent. You understand,” I quipped, and he barked out a laugh.
“You are perfection itself. Never change.”
“Never,” I vowed with a smile.
He returned the smile. “You do recall those things I did to your body earlier, yes?”
“Mm-hmm.” My eyelids turned heavy, sinking low as I poured myself into him. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget.”
“I’m about to do everything all over again.” He lowered his head, pressing his lips into mine.
The scene changed. No, only the woman in his arms altered. No longer was she me . . . but Lolli.
Cyrus twirled her around the ballroom, gazing at her with the same adoration.
Real me bucked up, eyes open, ready to rumble. That is not happening!
“It will,” Briar Rose said, pulling me from the vision, “if you refuse me.”
In an instant, the ballroom vanished, and the throne room reappeared, now devoid of gemstones and flowers. A cry of denial parted my lips as I took in the barren tundra beyond the window, the colorful garden gone.
A loud bang startled a gasp from me, and I craned my neck to see what had caused the noise.
Summit and Lolli stumbled into the temple, bloody and bruised, their clothing torn. My heart kicked into a wild sprint.
The door to the dome had been opened. Either Cyrus or Felix had died.
“Where is Cyrus?” I breathed out.
The royals didn’t hear me. Summit knelt at the statue next to the one Roman conversed with and ducked his head. Lolli came straight to Briar Rose, dropping to her knees at my side.
“I offer myself to you, goddess,” she muttered. “If you accept me, I will serve you however you see fit and work to ensure you never regret your decision.”
I stumbled backward several steps, fighting a tide of sickness. Where was Cyrus? He should appear any moment . . .
Any second now . . .
“Arden,” Briar Rose called, but I ignored her.
Hot tears welled, and I pressed my fingers against my quivering lips. He wasn’t dead. I would know it. Sense it.
Maybe he needed help. Yes, yes. I’d gear up, go out there, and find him.
I hurried toward the entrance just as Cyrus stomped in. Oh, thank goodness! He was alive.
His gaze found me and narrowed, his lashes nearly twining. He was bloodier than the others, the brand on his face taut, his eyes stark. Grim. A wound on his throat still leaked crimson. Gashes marred his blood-coated hands. His clothing was torn in multiple places.
“Cyrus!” I rushed to him and threw my arms around his shoulders. “You survived.”
“I did.” For the first time in our association, he didn’t hug me back. His arms remained at his sides, his hands fisted. He huffed every breath.
I cut off a cry. “Felix is dead?”
“He is.” His expression didn’t change, but his tenor flattened, becoming deadened. “He fought hard to kill me, but I took the necessary steps to prevail.”
Domino’s words echoed inside my head. Fate forever changed.
I patted his arm. “I’m so sorry, Cyrus.” The words failed to express the depths of my sympathy.
“Come with me. There’s much we must discuss.” He pried me off, leaving smears of blood to cool on my skin, then turned on his heel and stalked away, expecting me to follow.
I hurried after him, countless questions pawing for release. It was a miracle I kept them under lock and key, saying nothing. Not here, not now. I couldn’t turn off my mind, however. Had he rejected Astan’s offer? He must have. Except, I wasn’t so sure . . .
Necessary steps.
As we turned a corner, we came upon the emperor. He waited at the end of the hall, chin up, his arms behind his back. He hadn’t cleaned Giselle’s blood from his skin, and I shuddered.
“I knew it would be you,” he said with a proud grin. “I always knew.”
“Bow,” Cyrus commanded without slowing a step.
The emperor lost his pride, his joy, and blanched. Though clearly grinding his teeth and stiff, he obeyed, bowing. “We’ll work together, you and I, and bring Soal to his knees.”
“No. We won’t.” Cyrus stopped mere inches from him and, without hesitation, palmed a dagger and slammed it into the emperor’s belly. Not once, not twice, but three times.
I pressed a hand over my mouth and stumbled away from the violence, my eyes going wide with shock.
The old man gasped and toppled, twitching on the floor. Cyrus stepped over him and continued.
My brain blipped. Had that just happened? Was it another vision? It must be. Because my Cyrus wouldn’t murder a man in cold blood, even someone as cold and callous as his grandfather.
“Arden,” he snapped.
Floundering, I gave chase. He led me to the catacombs of the palace, into a library. Not Soal’s but similar, with freshly polished wood, artifacts from eons past displayed in glass and a tree growing from the floor, blooming with shiny golden fruit.
“C-Cyrus?” I asked, uncertain, drawing my arms around my middle. “Why did you do that? Why did you kill your grandfather?”
He shot me a look, his brazen grin unfolding slowly. “Because I’ll share my throne with no one.”
Six golden stars flashed in his eyes.