Chapter Twenty-three
Ty
Ty had spent the last several days sleeping on the cold, snow-covered ground, and feeling increasingly annoyed. It had been tough finding game, even with his venator and Cerberus tracking what he could.
It usually was tougher this time of year, right at the start of winter, but the lack of deer or elk seemed even starker than in years past, and that concerned him. He couldn’t exactly put his thumb on it, but something felt off.
Not to mention, he was worried about Ena. He knew his skills were needed to bring back meat for the Underworld, but he didn’t like leaving her alone there, even for a few days.
Although, she wasn’t truly alone. Turner, Steig, and Lara would watch out for her, but still, he worried. He knew that as his witch-slave, his protection of her was the most valuable.
On the third day after he’d left, he finally found himself and his companions, two mid-level daemons with hellhounds of their own, heading back to the entrance to the Underworld with four decent-sized deer in tow.
When they arrived, he left the venison with his companions to take to the king’s kitchen, where they would be processed and appropriately rationed, while he took his horse to Myka.
“Hello?” he called, as he entered the wide cavern of the stables. “Myka?”
The man in question popped his head out from a stall, where he’d evidently been re-shoeing a horse. “Ty,” he said, his voice sounding on edge. “You’re back.”
“Yeah, I am,” Ty said, handing off the reins to the man.
“Do you— I mean, how was the hunting trip?” Myka asked, seeming nervous.
“It was fine. Took significantly longer than I would have liked to track down the game, but we got it in the end.”
Myka nodded at him, his eyes darting to the side.
“Myka, what’s going on? Has something happened to you?”
“To me? No, no,” the man rushed to say. “It’s just… I heard about something, a day or two ago. About your…witch-slave, and I just wondered if you’d heard yet.”
Ty’s insides locked up. It took everything in him to control the chaos that descended over his mind. Keep calm. Don’t overreact. She was just supposed to be his witch-slave—nothing to him. He needed to act accordingly and keep his composure.
“And what’s that?” he asked, forming the words deliberately slowly.
“It was Cole. He…” Myka’s words drifted off. The man was fearful for some reason, but Ty’s patience for this was absolutely at an end.
“Myka,” Ty gritted out. “Tell me now. What happened?”
“He wanted to send a message,” the man finished in a rush, his voice guilty, as if he didn’t know if he should be the one revealing this.
A message.
A chill went through him, and he needed no further explanation. He knew firsthand what messages from his uncle were like.
He turned on his heel immediately and left, rushing through the passageways, his mind in a blind panic.
He had to get to Ena. Had to see her. What had Cole done to her? Was she alive?
He barely even registered his own body moving as he ran through the Underworld.
Finally, he arrived at his door and threw it open.
Turner, Steig, and Lara stood in the room, surrounding his bed. They turned to him as he burst in, shock in their eyes.
Then his eyes fell to his bed, and he saw Ena.
Dark purple and yellow bruises covered the entire right side of her face, mottling her normally perfect skin, which was even paler than normal. That side of her face was so swollen, he could barely see her right eye, but he could see that the other one was closed.
Iblis, no—was she…?
As he rushed toward the bed, he saw her chest rise and fall, and he nearly collapsed with relief.
She was alive—asleep, but alive.
His eyes traced over the deep bruises that rung around her neck before landing on her arm. It lay delicately above the fur blankets, her left wrist wrapped in bandages as if the bone was broken.
Ty felt his heart shatter into pieces as he collapsed to his knees next to the bed. Her dark-brown hair was tangled and strewn across the pillow. She looked so small, so vulnerable, and he felt a grief so profound well up inside him.
He hadn’t cried in years—not since his dad had died. He didn’t even know if he remembered how, and maybe he should. Maybe crying would be a better reaction, but instead, his body flooded with adrenaline, blinding him in an all-consuming rage.
He looked up to his left to find Steig standing next to him. “What happened?” he asked, his voice shaking with the barely restrained emotions he was feeling.
Steig looked at him with steel and caution in his eyes. “Cole,” he said simply. “He had Gunnar and Chans do most of the dirty work, but that’s all I know. Turner was the one who found her.” Steig looked over at the man in question, who nodded in corroboration.
“It was thanks to Nial, actually,” Turner explained.
“He came to get me. Told me that they’d taken her from the Archives and that something didn’t feel right about it.
” Turner looked away from him, his eyes looking haunted as they landed on Ena instead.
“They left her in an alcove in the Great Antre while they had their Convening,” he said, an uncharacteristic anger in his voice.
“And I’m just so—” Turner’s voice broke with emotion, making him pause before he could continue.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t get there sooner. ”
Ty couldn’t look at him anymore. He couldn’t look at any of them. He just stared at Ena where she lay on the bed.
“Is she, has she—” Ty could barely get his voice to work. He could feel his anger and his grief spiraling out of control inside him.
“She’s been in and out of consciousness for the last few days,” Lara explained grimly, responding to his incomplete questions.
“We gave her a potion for pain-numbing that put her to sleep, and we tended her wounds as best we could, but…she’s not a daemon.
She’s not healing as fast as we’re used to.
And without access to more witch potions or their magic, I—I don’t know how long until she’s better. ”
Ty reached out cautiously to grab her uninjured hand to find that it was cold to the touch. He didn’t know if he should be touching her, but he couldn’t help himself. He needed to feel that she was alive.
How could they do this to her? How could he have let this happen? After all the promises he’d made her. After he told her he’d keep her safe. He should never have followed Cole’s orders and gone hunting. He never should have brought her here.
“Ty.” Steig’s voice was tight with anger. “Watch your Power.”
Watch his Power? Ty wanted to laugh, but there was no way in the Underworld he could. He didn’t want to “watch his Power.” He wanted to rage.
He looked at Steig to find the man bunching his fists already. Without meaning to, his Power was clearly bleeding out of him, affecting those around him. And he didn’t give two fucks. They should be angry. They should all be as angry and devastated as him.
He felt for that channel leading to Steig, that thread connecting their minds, and he seized it roughly—pouring his emotion through it, feeding it, fueling it, as he watched Steig’s breathing kick up and his chest begin to heave. The man’s face got red and he screamed.
“Ty! Stop!”
But Ty didn’t want to stop.
He reared back and punched the man square in the jaw, Steig’s head flying backward as he was forced back several steps.
The man touched his jaw where the blow had landed, clearly feeling blood inside his mouth. “Fine,” Steig said through gritted teeth, his voice dark and dangerous. “If this is how you want it, let it out. Let it out on me,” he said, waving Ty towards him.
Ty screamed, his rage animalistic as he threw himself at Steig. The two of them became a flurry of fists and blood, rolling together on the fur-covered floor.
But Steig was no easy target—he gave as good as he got, and Ty reveled in it.
Every hit he landed, every blow he absorbed, felt like absolution.
He wanted it to hurt, he wanted to be hurt.
The physical manifestation of his anger felt good—it felt so good because while he was in it, he couldn’t feel or think about anything else.
He didn’t have to think about Ena and the way she looked lying on the bed.
He didn’t have to think about how monumentally he had fucked up by leaving her alone here.
He didn’t have to think about Cole and how he could possibly let the motherfucker live after this.
So instead, he threw punches like his life depended on it.
Blow after blow he landed on Steig, sloppy and uncontrolled.
Steig kicked him in the gut as he fell back into a chair, breaking it instantly.
But he got back up, and launched Steig back into the table, knocking it over with their combined weight.
“Enough!” he heard Lara yell. Then he felt a wave of…
something wash over him. Not joy, exactly, but contentment.
It wedged itself in between the cracks of the rage in his mind, and it dulled it.
It lessened it just enough that he let go of the channel to Steig, breaking the flow of anger between them, and the two of them rolled off one another, collapsing on the ground out of breath.
Lara approached Steig and leaned over him, touching his face in concern. Then she looked at Ty. “That’s enough,” she said, her voice stern but gentle.
The furrow between Steig’s brows softened as he brought his hand up to stroke through her hair, and the look of care the two of them exchanged made Ty’s chest ache.
His eyes were drawn to where his whole heart lay, unmoving on the bed. All his hope and his greatest fears inside one person. One beautiful, fragile witch.
His mind began to calm more now, Lara’s magic having broken his rage spiral, and he began to think logically again.
Would Ena be alright? Her injuries looked bad, but if she’d survived them so far, she would likely live. They just needed to wait for her to wake up and give her time. But even then…
There was another question that haunted him, one that made his heart seize in his chest: Would she forgive him? He couldn’t imagine a world in which she would. Not after he’d broken another promise. Not after he’d let this happen. She would have every right to hate him.
And that thought utterly destroyed him, because he couldn’t imagine a world without her—without them together—not anymore.
Before he’d left, he’d been so full of hope, ready to admit his love, and now he knew without a doubt—he was an absolute fool.
How had he not learned this lesson by now?
Why did he have to learn it again and again and again before it would sink in?
He could never hold on to happiness, to contentment—his Master would never let him.
He dragged his eyes away from where Ena lay to the door, as he rose. He knew what he needed to do. He was filled with such resolve as he moved to leave, but Turner blocked his path.
“Where do you think you’re going, brother?” he asked in that calm, friendly way of his.
“I’m going to fucking kill him. I’ve waited long enough,” Ty replied, his voice calm with the clarity he now felt.
Turner placed his hand on Ty’s chest, stopping him from approaching the door. “I can’t let you do that,” he said, his voice serious.
“Why the fuck not?” Ty asked, but he controlled his rage this time. He needed to save it.
“You know why. You really want to precipitate what happens when he dies?”
“It doesn’t matter. At least she’ll be safe.”
“Will she?” Steig asked from where he sat at the table, Lara dabbing a cloth on his split lip. “If anyone suspects foul play, especially those who support Cole, they’ll come for you. For us. For her,” he added, nodding at the bed where Ena lay.
Ty rubbed his face with his hands, smearing the blood from a cut on his cheek all over, but he didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was there in that bed. And she wouldn’t fucking wake up.
But Steig and Turner were right. Deep down, he knew they were.
If he attacked Cole now, in front of everyone, chaos would ensue. There were those who would follow him, yes, and consent to the change of power, but there were those who would riot. Those loyal to Cole. And he couldn’t take them all—not by himself.
He needed to lay the groundwork first. Needed to release the daemons from the bond so they were open to Gaia. Maybe then he could convince more people that Cole’s way wasn’t the way. Maybe then he could take him out.
But not now.
Fuck.
His eyes landed on the bed again. On the pale skin and dark hair of the woman resting in it. “Okay, you’re right,” he said, his voice sounding small and far away, even to his own ears. “I won’t go after him.”
Turner removed his arm and seemed satisfied with that response.
Lara came up to him then and placed her hand on his shoulder. “She’ll be okay, Ty,” Lara said softly. “She’s strong.”
Ty tried to nod to show that he’d heard her but wasn’t sure if he fully managed it. He walked over to the bed again, then kicked off his boots before climbing up beside her.
“We’ll leave you two alone for a bit,” Lara said, looking at Turner and Steig for affirmation. “But I’ll be back soon to check on you. Okay?”
Ty grunted in acknowledgment.
He heard them shuffle around the room for a second before opening the door to leave.
Ty lay on his side, facing Ena, watching her breathe. Her chest rose steadily, but other than that, she didn’t move.
Gently, he reached out with one hand, brushing some hair away from the uninjured side of her face, and she didn’t even flinch.
“Ena,” he whispered, his voice thick. “Please wake up. I’m so, so sorry. Please.”
He didn’t expect her to respond, but he still felt a sharp pain in his chest at her lack of response.
He laid there for hours, watching her chest rising and falling, but he didn’t close his eyes. He couldn’t. Not when his worst nightmare, the very thing he’d feared all along, had finally come to pass, and he was trapped in it. To sleep would be too easy.
No, he would stay awake until she opened her eyes and spoke to him. That was his only dream right now, and he wouldn’t sleep until it became reality.