Chapter Twenty-Six
You will find me when you seek me.
“You host Astan,” I gasped out, shock waves crashing through me. Astan, creator of the Madness and leader of CURED, now abided in Cyrus, who had agreed to house him. They were together, two now made one.
A new swell of horror choked me, threatening to consume my entire being.
“Yes. And no.” He massaged his nape. “I agreed to do it, and I can sense him. I even know his thoughts, except they are my thoughts. That makes no sense, I know, but there’s no other way to explain it.
I’m still me, just better.” His expression softened.
“Accept Briar Rose, and I’ll give you the worlds, Arden.
I swear it.” He cupped my cheeks as he’d done so many times before.
“Be my wife. My everything. Help me destroy Soal, as we have dreamed for so long.”
The more he spoke, the more it felt as if someone had scooped out my insides and salted the wounds. “Do you even hear yourself?” Destroy Soal as we’d dreamed?
He pursed his lips. “I suggest you watch your tone with me, sweetness.”
Sweetness. Not Pink, or kitten, or even Bubble Gum, the very first nickname he’d bestowed upon me. But sweetness, the same endearment Astan had used with Briar Rose. An endearment Cyrus had used with me before this, and in the passage of my book. More proof Astan was at the helm.
“Or what?” I snapped, uncaring about the consequences. This was my worst nightmare come to life. There was more of Astan influencing Cyrus than we’d realized. I loved this man, but he wasn’t my devoted, protective, tender fiancé anymore. This man killed without remorse.
“Or I’ll be displeased.” Before my eyes, he schooled his expression into adoration. He traced the pads of his thumbs over the rise of my cheeks, saying, “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you.”
A lie. The first he’d ever told me. “You did it for yourself. I begged you not to.”
He forged ahead, unaffected by my declaration. “You told me to survive, so I did. I love you, and I want a life with you. That hasn’t and won’t change. Don’t you want a life with me?”
“With you, yes.” Desperately. I clasped his wrists, clinging to him, hoping to make him understand. “But I don’t want a life with you and Astan. I told you that. Warned you. I meant it then, and I mean it now.”
“You don’t understand. Not yet.” Leaning down, unwaveringly confident, he pressed his lips into mine. A soft, gentle act of affection. “But I’m assured you will.”
A flash of those golden stars sent a chilling rush through me. “Are you even Soalian?” He couldn’t be, not with Soal’s enemy—our enemy—cohabiting in his body.
Another flare of irritation. “That doesn’t matter.” He tightened his grip. “You’ll host Briar Rose, and you’ll see. We were destined to rule together.”
More scooping, more salt, the burn in the center of my chest almost unbearable. Destined, he’d said. My path was altered the day I bonded with Domino. Was this to be the result: a life at war with Cyrus? The very result I’d feared.
The very result my book predicted.
“Why did you accept him?” I rasped. There was no reason good enough. “Why?”
“I saw my future with and without him.” He gave my cheekbones another caress, then hiked his shoulders. “I liked ‘with him’ better. It was the only way to keep you.”
I screamed internally. “He’s a liar, Cyrus. You know that. You hate that. Why would you believe him? I’d already agreed to marry you. I would have stayed with you forever.” Now . . .
A muscle jumped beneath his eye. “His visions corroborate what I read in Soal’s books.”
“That’s because you’re missing a puzzle piece. But it’s not too late to undo this.” Please, don’t let it be too late. “Renounce Astan. Refuse to host him a minute more.” Could he? If all things were possible, then yes. “Please.”
“I have no desire to do so.” Cyrus released me and stepped back.
His head tilted up, and his eyes closed, as if he were savoring something sweet.
“The power bubbling inside me . . . I’ve tasted only a fraction of what’s there.
As soon as my body is used to it, I’ll have access to the full measure. The things I’ll be able to do . . .”
My hope began to wither, but still I clung to what remained. If he’d tasted only a fraction of the god’s power, it absolutely wasn’t too late to free him. The problem was, he loved this. The power-hungry man before me would never willingly relinquish an ounce of the god’s ability.
Cyrus strode to a table in the back, lifted a tome, and read the spine before setting it aside.
“Briar Rose requires an answer, sweetness. She’s eager to enjoy her freedom, and she won’t wait much longer.
” As he stretched his arms high in the air, the hem of his shirt rose, revealing the patch of tattooed skin between the garment and his fatigues.
A never-before-seen scar, thick and raised, extended from one hip to the other.
“What happened out there?” I asked, sick to my stomach. “With Felix, I mean.”
Voice harder than stone, he said, “It’s not worth discussing.”
As if only then noticing the blood on his hands, he frowned. With a wave at a far wall, he somehow transformed that portion of the room before my eyes. From wood panels to an open bathroom with a shelf of towels, a sink, a mirror framed in gold, and a matching shower stall, water already raining.
A bold display of the very power he praised, and a blow to what little remained of my optimism.
Cyrus gripped the neckline of his shirt from behind and pulled the material over his head.
One glimpse of his familiar torso usually sent my heart skittering into a wild rhythm.
Today, I looked upon a stranger. Oh, I knew those rock-solid muscles cut by years of training and battle intimately.
Knew the treetop tattoo, with its branches riding the length of his arms, displaying flower buds that appeared to bloom before my eyes.
He stripped completely, utterly unabashed, and walked into the spray. Winking at me, he all but purred, “Join me. I’ll make you glad you did.”
My nails cut into my palms. “Only yesterday, you preferred to wait until our marriage.”
“We can be married today, if you’ll agree to host Briar Rose. There’s no reason to wait.”
There was no reason to reiterate my refusal of Briar Rose either.
“You should clean up, if nothing else,” he said, undisturbed by my silence. “We have much to do.”
Remembering I was streaked with blood, I stalked to the sink, where the mirror hung. I flinched. Oh, yes. Scarlet smeared my cheeks.
Mouth dry, I swiped and wet a rag, then soaped my face. “Worth discussing or not, I’d like to hear the details of what happened inside the energy field.”
“Very well.” His indulgent tone suggested he did this solely to please me.
He shut off the water and snatched a towel.
Drying off, he grated, “As I grappled with Felix, I couldn’t bring myself to deliver the killing blow.
My reluctance allowed him to gain the upper hand, and he injured me.
I was dying, we both knew it. He bragged that the first thing he would do as king is make you an example and take your head.
That was when Astan showed me your future if I let myself die. ”
My insides flash froze. Cyrus, dying. How close I’d come to losing him. “Go on,” I croaked.
He tossed the towel to the floor, withdrew clean clothing from a rack that suddenly replaced a wall, and dressed with stiff, forceful jerks. “He showed me you would escape death at Felix’s hand . . . and marry Domino.”
In other words, the god had used another lie to bait him. I growled internally. “My relationship with Domino isn’t like that.” I’d given Cyrus my heart. My loyalty. Faithfulness wasn’t an option but a certainty.
“Your relationship with Domino will never be like that. You are mine.” Cyrus swooped in, cupping my cheeks again. The golden stars lit up his eyes and stayed put as he studied me. “I am yours. Say it. Say those words.”
I meant to pull away. To protest. I leaned closer, studying him in turn. Those stars. They spun, slowly at first, then faster and faster until becoming rings. Mesmerizing. Warmth cascaded through me, relaxing tense muscles.
“Say it.” The husky entreaty tickled my ears.
Yes. There was nothing I yearned to do more. I loved and adored this man. Our future was now and forever. “You are . . . I . . .” A buzzing sensation in the center of my chest seized my attention, halting my affirmation. What in the world?
In the ensuing pause, I saw past the spinning and into an endless pool of writhing shadows. My horror returned, a sudden revelation shocking me to the core. This. This was how he’d won Rose. She’s under his spell.
“Say it, Arden.” An unmistakable command this time, anger frothing within the words.
And what would come next, hmm? Giving Briar Rose permission to inhabit me? “No,” I stated. “I will never be Astan’s.”
His eyelids slitted. “You want the librarian.”
I opened and closed my mouth, saying nothing, thinking nothing.
“Perhaps you require a peek into Domino’s future.” Again, Cyrus waved a hand toward a wall. A hard jerk of his arm. In a mimic of the Rock, that wall became a screen that showcased something happening beyond it.
We peered into a dungeon cell, with windowless rocky walls stained with splatters of crimson.
Gasping, I pressed my fingers over my mouth.
Mr. Vyle perched on the velvet-covered cushion of an antique chair, drinking whiskey as the librarian hung upside down from a chain anchored to the ceiling.
Blood poured from multiple wounds into a bucket.
Bile seared my throat. “Th-this isn’t the future. It’s a distortion.” It must be. Astan could only lie. “You’re trying to scare me into complying.”
“I wasn’t, but I can.” He waved to the wall, and the screen suddenly peered into our suite.
Holding my hand in a firm grip, he led me forward. In the span of a blink, we stood inside the bedroom we shared.
When next he faced me, he was almost gleeful. “Let me show you what happens when I’m without Astan.” His pupils pulsed, eclipsing his irises for a single beat. They retracted, those six glowing stars gone.
Dare I hope?
Cyrus frowned, his brows drawing together.
His inhalations quickened, becoming labored.
Sweat beaded over his upper lip, and the color drained from his cheeks.
“Arden?” A second later, he issued an agonized grunt.
Wounds broke out all over his body, blood leaking from each.
The scar I’d seen on his abdomen? It gaped open.
“What happened? What’s wrong?” I rushed to him, flinging my arm around his waist just as his knees buckled. Acting as his crutch, I dragged him to the bed, and he toppled onto the mattress.
“I don’t understand,” he said between labored breaths. “I should be in the field with . . . with . . .” Misery contorted his features.
“It will be okay, it will be okay.” I rushed to the bathroom to gather the first aid kit, then rushed back to his side. After I cut away his new clothing, I tended to his wounds, cleaning and administering the proper medications. I explained everything I’d learned to the best of my ability.
As his physical pain dulled, he should have relaxed. He only grew more agitated. “I must have healed when Astan inhabited me, then returned to my injured state when he left.”
Goodness gracious, some of the wounds were deep. The curative gels and sealants I applied would aid in his recovery, but would they work fast enough? “You don’t need him to thrive or even survive. Soal will send a conduit.” I would make sure of it. “Or I will be a conduit.” Yes, yes.
Domino! I shouted his name across our bond.
No response came, and I gulped. He’d said the bond weakened when I entertained Astan’s thoughts. But I wasn’t. Was I?
“I love you,” Cyrus croaked, resolved.
Resolved . . . to die? No, no, no. “I know you do. So listen to me. You will live. Okay? But you can’t host him again. Promise me. We’ll find another way.”
“I promise.” When I finished tending his injuries, he mumbled, “Stay with me. Need you.”
Hot air lashed my lungs, a stinging whip I couldn’t escape. I settled in at his side, careful not to jostle him. I luxuriated in his warmth, his scent. His eyelids sank, and he drifted to sleep.
My mind whirled. Cyrus needed help—a plan essential. Astan would attempt to join with him again, which meant I better read my book. Which meant I must get to the Rock. Which meant I should speak with Domino, who still hadn’t responded.
I sent another SOS along our connection and waited . . . waited. No return message. I frowned, worry attempting to creep in. Had something happened to him?
Heart drumming, I eased from Cyrus’s embrace and stood. I’d have to get to the Rock without Domino’s help. If I got caught, I got caught. The payout exceeded the risk.
I shifted to peer down at his sleeping form, pleasure and heartbreak colliding inside me. If he accepted Astan a second time, he would set off a chain reaction of events leading to our war. I sensed it.
But I wasn’t going there. Not now. Better to be mission minded.
Determined, I carefully eased a specific ring from his finger.
The one with the skeleton key. I also confiscated some of his other jewelry, checking them out before I donned them.
Another ring, filled with a fine, white powder.
Probably a sedative, maybe a toxin. An array of metal wristbands that opened and locked into daggers when shaken.
Deep breath in. Out. With a final glance at the man who had changed the trajectory of my life, teaching me to see past fear and fight for what I wanted, I tiptoed to the door. Now it was my turn to help him. And I would. Determination turned my bones to steel. I wouldn’t fail.