Chapter 44
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
V oices outside the door woke Ronin from his piss-poor slumber.
Other than that first week he’d arrived back at his family cottage in Denevrae—blind in one eye and nearly bleeding out—he hadn’t been able to get more than a few, restless hours.
Selene had healed him as best she could, begging him to tell her what had happened.
He refused to say a word. Wasn’t ready to share any of his final, painful moments with Mireille with anyone, even the sister whom he loved, and who loved him so dearly that she’d tried everything to save his eye.
She couldn’t, in the end.
Honestly, it was lucky Mireille hadn’t killed him. Any deeper of a slice and that flaming blade might have pierced his brain, delivering True Death in one brutal, hate-filled stroke.
A part of him, a part that was growing smaller and smaller with each passing day, hoped that maybe she’d held back on purpose.
He groaned as he lifted himself up onto his elbows, pain pounding through his skull. He reached up to touch his bandages, found them sticky and wet with pus.
His wolf hadn’t said a word since they’d returned. Ronin counted it a blessing. Though he was still furious with the creature for forcing the shift, he was grateful he’d gotten them to safety. And thanks to Selene’s skills as a healer, he’d likely have centuries to repair his relationship with the beast.
He couldn’t say the same for Mireille. Whenever he thought about her, a stabbing pain lanced through his chest and the tears that rose to his injured, vacant eye socket stung nearly as badly as his battered heart.
She’d called him a monster. After she was the one who’d assured him he wasn’t. She was the only person who’d ever said it that he believed, including Selene. And to have it rescinded…
He shook the thought away as the voices outside his bedroom—his fucking childhood bedroom—grew louder.
He sat upright, the blanket falling from his bare chest as Selene opened the door. Ronin startled at who accompanied her.
“Layla?” he said, his voice raw and scratchy.
The honey-badger bi-form was dressed quite differently than the last time he’d seen her, in an elegant cream top and tailored black pants, her typical leather uniform discarded. Save for that corseted belt of Typhon throwing knives. Seemed some things never changed, regardless of who she was working for.
She leaned down to inspect his wound, her smooth black and white waves tickling his chest.
“Damn, Butcher, she got you good,” she said, her eyes tinged with sorrow. “What happened?”
Ronin rubbed at his bandages. “It doesn’t fucking matter. What are you doing here?”
Layla aimed a look at Selene, a look that held far too much familiarity for Ronin’s liking. Selene dipped her golden-blue eyes to her wringing hands.
“Do you two know each other?” he asked.
“Not…not exactly,” Selene answered in a meek voice. “Though I do know the organization that Layla works for. Quite well, in fact.”
Ronin jolted as if struck, remembering the guests Selene had been entertaining the last time they’d talked. Before he’d gotten sucked into… He wasn’t going to think about the assignment. About Otto or Kosera or Nyctima or… her ever again. Tainted fucking memories.
High Gods, he wanted a Delirium. Selene had finally caved and purchased a case a few days ago. After Ronin had roared at her, said some very nasty things in his grief and anger, begging for a bottle to quiet his mind. Quiet his soul.
He didn’t ask for one now though. Thought it best to see through this conversation as alert and focused as possible. He’d drown himself afterward. “How long?”
“Wh-what?” Selene asked.
“How long have you been a member of the Teles Chrysos, Selene?”
Her answer was barely a whisper, and she didn’t look at him as she provided it. “For the past twelve years.”
Ronin, shockingly, found a new reserve of anger. “Do you know how fucking dangerous that is? If anyone had ever found out?—”
Color rose on his twin’s cheeks as she finally met his gaze. “I have never once judged you for your choices, Ronin. Do not presume to now judge mine.”
“Bullshit,” he laughed. “Where’s my Delirium, huh, sis?”
She pushed her shoulders back. “That’s different.”
“ How ?” he roared, something within him stirring to life. Wrath of Vestan, it felt good to get the anger out. Even though he knew his sister was not who he wanted to take it out on.
Layla stood at the edge of his bed, arms crossed, not joining in the sibling rivalry.
“Because it’s killing you!” Selene snarled, more ferocious than he’d ever seen her. “Because it’s been keeping you from living these past years. You’re a slave to it, and you don’t even recognize it.”
“And becoming a member of an organization that’s planning to rebel against the Empire isn’t going to kill you ? I fail to see how this is different.”
Layla piped up. “Hate to interrupt this lovely family moment, but you have a decision to make.” She shot her gaze to Ronin.
“What decision?” Ronin leapt out of bed, the swiftness of the movement making his head swim. Staggering, he caught himself on the edge of the nightstand. Selene stepped over to help, her concern overriding any lingering irritation from their shouting match.
“I’ve come with an offer from the Teles Chrysos leadership. They want you to return to Delos, to the Empire now that your wolf is uncaged, and rejoin the Imperial Defense Council. And feed us any useful information you come across.”
Ronin laughed bitterly. “You want me to play spy again? Why would I agree to that? And why the hell would the Empire take me back when I defied their orders and fled after what happened at the estate?”
Layla leveled a sympathetic stare at him. “Because she covered for you.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“She was captured,” Layla said, and Ronin’s heart fell to his feet. “Skanisse tracked her down, brought her back to Kheimos. Made a pretty big spectacle of it, too. She took the fall for everything. Said she orchestrated Otto’s takedown in order to claim power for herself.” Layla cleared her throat. “Said you were just a pawn and that she’d broken your cage to turn you back into a weapon to use against the Empire.”
A vein jumped in Ronin’s clenched jaw. “What happened to her?”
Fury tightened Layla’s delicate features. “They sent her to Tartarus.”
A big part of him was glad to fucking hear it, while another part… No one ever got out of the dangerous prison. Not alive, anyway.
“She sacrificed her freedom to save you, Ronin,” Layla whispered.
He searched his chest for an ounce of sympathy to offer Mireille. And maybe it was even there. But if it was, it was buried beneath volcanic layers of rage and pain.
The centerpiece of his broken fucking heart.
She could rot for all he cared.
He knew he’d spend the rest of his life wishing he actually believed that.
“Still,” he ground out, “why would I rejoin the fucking Empire for you and your zealots?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do,” Selene piped up. “Because this world cannot continue on in this way. Even if we could stomach the hierarchies, these separations between species and sub-species, it is not Adelphinae’s will. And she will destroy us if we don’t find a way to fix it.”
Ronin remembered that meeting he’d had with the chronomancer, what felt like years ago. What that voice had said about him still having a role to play. He’d thought she’d been talking about the assignment with Otto. But perhaps his path was quite a bit longer than that.
Selene sat down next to him, placing a hand on his thigh. “Ro, please . I’ve never asked you for anything in my life, but I know… We need to do this. Together. Or else this world is not going to survive. Please.”
Selene—twin sister and master manipulator.
He bowed his head in his hands. What else was he going to do with the rest of his immortality? He was finding it hard to give a shit about anything at the moment. But the thought of remaining here in Denevrae, in this claustrophobic cottage with Selene, doing… what exactly? Chopping wood? Gardening? Playing chess?
Harboring rebels?
When Skanisse had first approached him, he thought he’d have a chance to regain some of his lost glory. Maybe what Selene and the Teles Chrysos were offering would allow him to do that after all.
He shuffled over to his closet, then pulled on a shirt. “So what’s the plan then? I just waltz back into Delos and what? Fall to my knees before Leonin Erabis? Beg forgiveness for my sins ?”
“Something like that.” Layla winked, then sashayed out of the room. When she returned, she was holding a familiar object in her hand.
Nostrata’s cane.
“You’ll arrive bearing a gift,” Layla smirked, holding it out to him. “A genuine relic of the Fallen Goddess.”
He took the cane, examining the carved snake head on top, the fire opal held between its fangs glistening in the early morning light. “Why would you surrender this to them?”
“It wasn’t an easy decision,” Layla admitted. “The Teles Chrysos leadership had many long, heated debates about it. In the end, it was decided that the information we could gain by having someone on the inside was worth the sacrifice. The Empire won’t be able to do much with the cane—it can only be wielded by a chronomancer and even then, all it can do is allow them to visit the Halfway. Besides, offering it up will distract them from searching for the flute, which is far more powerful. And integral to our long-term plans.”
Ronin blew out a long breath. “Alright.” He turned to his sister. “But I’m only doing this for you, Leenie.”
Selene winked. “Checkmate, big bro.” She brought her hand to his face, running her thumb across his cheekbone just under his bandages. “Come on, let’s get you ready for your Imperial visit.
“I’ve made you a new accessory.”