Chapter 31 Rowan
Rowan
The lack of sleep nagged at me, throbbing in the back of my head. The herbal tea I drank couldn’t even ward off the oncoming headache. And yet, I kept searching.
Kept hoping for something.
There had to be more in here than just…nothing.
Surely, Dante and his minions hadn’t taken everything.
Surely, there was still some kind of hint, some key, that could save my mate once we got her back.
No rune created by either my hand or Adrian’s would be strong enough to go against the power of the Old Gods—and I wouldn’t waste my time testing it.
Tiredly, I rubbed my eyes, closing another heavy, ancient tome and pushing it aside.
I wasn’t just reading shit on Nyx anymore.
I was going back to records from the creation of Avalon, focusing on the written accounts of the Priestesses.
If I was going to find any real reference to God Runes, or even the skull itself, I could potentially see it being referenced by those closest to Nyx outside of the Queen or Daughter.
Priestesses were basically like human nuns, only with literal magic, and they were trained warriors. Only females were brought into the Priestesshood, and it used to only be witches—Nyx’s first creation. But since the war of the Old World, it opened to all creatures—but still only females.
And they were a wealth of knowledge. They detailed everything. There was even a small novel about the upbringing of Pandora.
But still nothing that would help me.
I pulled another thick book towards me, a breath leaving my lips in a huff.
This one, to my utter irritation, was about the Fae.
A brief history of their High Rulers. Faery existed long—and I meant long—before Nyx started walking the realms, and it was probably why they were still so pissy about her saving their asses with her Goddess magic.
I didn’t know much about their history before Nyx, but I knew they predated her arrival in the human world by a thousand years at least.
That meant a lot of time with only High Queens and no interaction with demons or the creatures of Nyx. Once upon a time, even the Underworld had its own real leader, but they were long gone, too.
I refocused my energy on searching for anything relating to Queen Titania. But most importantly, Emris.
The first hundred or so pages were just a long history of her rule specifically.
What she did, what she didn’t do. How Titania mated a male from every court upon her ascending the throne—and here I thought Ivy would have too many mates.
It made eight for Titania, and well, every Queen before her.
But it was meant to be a sign of unity, of giving each court a representative in the High Palace. Or something like that.
I could see why Nyx mirrored her Queen after the Fae, and why Titania allowed for the inclusion of Faery into Nyx’s Domain.
Then I got to the family tree. Sitting back, I stared at the page in disgust, especially the image of the male who set this all in motion.
“What are you looking at so disdainfully?” the Elysian King asked, appearing from the shadows somewhere to my left. I glanced up, taking in the dark suit—black jacket, black vest, black dress-shirt. The male looked like he was on his way to a funeral, not joining me for research.
But hey, I was in sweatpants and a heavy knit sweater I’d gotten for Ivy, making sure it was doused in my scent for the moment we got her back.
If I knew anything about our mate, especially her magic and the trauma she was going through, she’d need the safety of her mates.
It would be like her magic coming in on steroids, only much, much worse.
And if there was anything I learned during my training at Phoenix, traumatised mates needed their bonded.
Not just physically, but in a lot of different ways. Scent included.
I crossed my arms, watching as the demon strode towards my mess of a table, taking the seat across from me. Even sitting, he was huge. But I shook my head, dropping my stare to the book. “Just the family tree of Titania.”
“Now, why would you bother with that?” he asked, leaning forward almost curiously.
With a sigh, I explained my plan, telling him how I wanted to figure out how Emris could have found the skull himself, and whether he could have ensured there was someone to keep his work going for him.
Because even though he had to be some kind of delusional prick to have thought he would succeed in stealing not just his sister’s power, but Pandora’s, he had to have had some help.
“Ah, yes.” Rhadamanthus leaned back, arms crossed.
“I had only one interaction with that male. The day Pandora was proclaimed Queen. And even then, he made me ill. What did Asael tell us? The Fae had been charged with protecting the skull?” The king just shook his head, almost like he was disappointed.
“Why in any realm would Nyx entrust those wicked folk with such a powerful artefact?”
I hadn’t even thought of that. “Good question,” I muttered, pulling the book closer. “Why not the Priestesses?”
“The Fae are much, much older than Nyx’s Domain,” Rhadamanthus murmured, sitting straighter.
“I would assume it’s because Nyx didn’t have her creatures yet.
But still, why not retrieve the skull when she had her loyal subjects?
Why not leave it with the demons? We were more than prepared to protect anything regarding her and her Queens. ”
I drummed my fingers on the table, still staring at the page.
Titania had two brothers, Emris and Oberon—the namesake of the academy, which made sense because when I flipped the page, there was a spread about each male.
One detailing Emris, the political general who oversaw managing the Fae army alongside her Spring Court and Aither Court mates.
Then there was the page for Oberon, who was the scholar—the inventor.
And he had a particular interest in magic.
I tried to recall all Asael had said about the skulls. Hadn’t he mentioned groups born to defend them? Nyx’s wasn’t even the only one out there—if we were to believe the long dead demon.
“Goddess above, this would be so much easier if we could just go back and ask Asael—hell, I want to talk to this Eryx guy. Surely, he knew what his uncle was up to.” I turned back to the family tree, which ended with Eryx and his brothers. The end of Titania’s bloodline.
“I would offer,” Rhadamanthus drawled, leaning back with a scowl. “But our one and only chance at getting answers died with Asael. I have no power entering that particular field of death. And I have tried.”
I scrubbed a hand down my face. “Bullshit.” Slamming my fist onto the table, I shook my head. “What’s the fucking point then?”
The male sighed. “I don’t know. But it makes me irrationally angry, too. It would have helped us understand how Dante even came into this knowledge in the first place.”
The King of the Elysian Fields, locked out of the one place he could have found answers.
So fucking typical of Nyx.
“I don’t even care about that anymore,” I replied, grunting as I slammed the tome shut on Emris’s stupid face.
“He said he found some letter from a maid fucking Emris. He could have gotten that from anywhere.” Shaking my head, I rolled my tongue inside my mouth as I stared at the little progress I’d made the last couple of days considering my new focus on the bastard.
“All I want is the runes. I want to know what they mean, so I can find a way to get the collar off her.”
Rhadamanthus bowed his head in a nod. “That, I can agree with. Though even if I could reach Pandora’s mates, there’s a chance they know nothing about them. Asael barely understood what you showed him.”
“Asael didn’t tell us anything useful or how to decipher them,” I muttered, glaring at a recreation of the runes I’d drawn from memory. I’d redone it about five times, making sure they were correct. “But I have a feeling he wasn’t a scholarly kind of demon.”
Rhadamanthus snorted. “My cousin had no such bone in his body. He was a warrior and a drinker. He enjoyed frivolity—until Pandora. Though I doubt he spent much time understanding the runes. Eryx, however, would have. He took after Oberon in that way, which was likely why Eryx disliked him so much.”
Another harsh breath fell from my lips as I pushed the paper away. “No chance you could go ask him yourself?”
“Not even a necromancer would be able to summon his soul from his bones,” Rhadamanthus replied, sullen. Great. At least I wasn’t the only one who felt fucking useless. “The runes are our key to saving her.”
I nodded. “If she’s got the collar, then yeah. We need them.” The thought of Ivy in such a thing made bile rise in my stomach. I hadn’t seen Dante clamp it around her throat, but Rhadamanthus had.
And by the dark look playing in his eyes, he was remembering that moment—vividly.
If it were me, I would never sleep again.
“I will summon more scholars. The Priestesses,” he muttered, rising slowly. “I will conjure an entire army of academics to help you with these runes. We will find a way to save her.”
I wanted to believe him. But based on the way he looked around the library, pilfered of all its books, not even he took much stock in his words.
With a shake of his head, the demon left with the shadows, and I sat back with a sigh.
Books weren’t going to get my girl back. But I wasn’t sure what else I could do.
The exhaustion became too much, so I started for the apartment. Instead of going directly there, though, I detoured towards the dungeon—and my best friend.
I’d treated him like shit. It wasn’t that I blamed him.
Not like he could see his own brother being inside his head coming.
And anyway, we never thought Dante was capable of anything like that.
It was on all of us for not being prepared for the trap.
We all should have seen it coming. We never should have let Ivy enter that cottage until we were all there with her. So we could fight Dante—together.
Then this would have all been over. We could have trapped him and she would be safe.
And I would blame myself every day for not thinking the plan through. For not considering all angles properly—like we’d been trained to do.
The smell of sulphur and smoke filled my lungs when the dungeon elevator let me off, becoming thicker as I entered the hall of cells. In the distance, the rumble of sleeping hellhounds almost made the place feel peaceful.
I passed Hyperion’s cell with only a look at the door. Two Wrath demons stood guard, so Maeve probably wasn’t inside tearing the male apart—sadly.
But the next door had me coming to a dead stop. Already there were witches guarding it, but Blythe stood there with her hand hovering over the handle. The witch looked up at my appearance, blinking hard.
“Oh,” she said, dropping her hand. “I didn’t think any of you were going to come down and check on him.”
Immediately, that triggered a sense of guilt. “Yeah, well, not much we can do, I guess.”
Blythe looked me over, hiding her emotions well. “He’s asleep—well, as best he can be. Dante is coming and going as he pleases. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
My stomach bottomed out. “You haven’t?” Granted, neither had I. But I’d never found much interest in the magic of mind witches and mages. “I assumed it was like, a bonus affinity I guess.”
The witch shook her head. “Not that I can find,” she replied slowly. “I don’t know how he’s doing it. Especially so easily. And it shouldn’t even be possible because of who you guys are mated to. Even if your bonds are—” She cut herself off, shaking her head again. “It just shouldn’t be possible.”
I looked from her to the door, feeling even more fucking terrible. Maybe if I’d been a better friend, he wouldn’t be sitting in chains right now. Maybe if I’d helped him, he would be here helping me with the runes.
He would be part of the team trying to find Ivy.
“You’ll look after him?” I asked quietly.
Blythe pressed her lips together. “I’m going to see if I can reinforce the blocks and check his binds. It’s probably best you don’t join me.”
With a nod, I turned slowly. Fuck, at every turn, it felt like we were failing. And there was nothing we could do to stop it.