Chapter Twenty-four
Ty
It was several hours later, almost time for the timekeepers to come dim the darkrock lanterns, when Ty heard a gentle knock on the door.
He turned away from where Ena slept to see Lara crack it open and cautiously enter the room.
“How is she?” she asked quietly, her eyes landing on where Ena lay, unmoved from her previous position.
“No change,” Ty said, sitting up slowly. He was bone-tired and sore from the fight with Steig, but he could barely spare a thought for himself. “Is it normal for her to be sleeping this long? You said she woke up for a bit before, right? Did she say anything?”
“No, she didn’t. Her throat was…” Lara looked, haunted, at Ena’s bruised throat. “She couldn’t really talk. And then we managed to give her the potion, and she’s been sleeping ever since. I—I don’t know if it’s normal for witches to be asleep this long after taking it.”
Ty nodded. He didn’t know either. They were used to the trajectory of daemon healing, which was much shorter, and they never used potions on themselves—they wouldn’t work even if they did. The very few they even had in stock were given to the mortal imperi.
“Ty,” Lara began cautiously, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. “I didn’t just come to check on you two. I was sent with a message. Cole wants to see you.”
Ty’s stomach dropped and his fists clenched at his sides.
Of course. The bastard clearly wanted to make sure his message was received, loud and clear.
Ty looked at Lara, letting his feelings bleed through. “I don’t know if I can do it, Lara. I don’t know if I can keep my cool around him anymore. Not after this.”
“You have to, Ty,” she replied in earnest. “You have no choice. It’s what’s safest for all of us right now.”
Ty lowered his face into his hands. He didn’t know how to deal with this. For the first time in his life, he felt completely helpless. He just wanted Ena to wake up so badly, it was all he could think about. And now he had to leave her again to go bow and scrape to the man who’d hurt her?
He felt Lara gently place a hand on his shoulder. “I promise you, Ty, he won’t get away with this. With anything that he’s done. His time will come.”
Ty looked up to meet his cousin’s gaze. It was pure fucking steel, and he leaned on her strength and resolve.
“I know,” Ty said darkly. “I’ll make fucking sure of it.”
He stood slowly then and dragged himself to the bathing chamber. He still hadn’t cleaned up since returning from his hunting trip, and the bastard could wait for him to take a bath first.
After he was clean and in fresh clothing, he left Lara to watch over Ena, stealing one more glance at where she lay. It hurt his heart to see her face, but he didn’t dare look away. He let that hurt fuel him as he walked through the passageways of the Underworld, towards the Great Antre.
He took the time on the way to make sure his body was calm. He was unusually adept at sequestering his anger—hiding it, tucking it away where it grew and festered in the deepest parts of him. He did that now, taking several deep breaths to prepare himself for what lay ahead.
As he walked into the Great Antre, he saw Cole seated on his throne at the head of the Convening table, his uncle Zak next to him. The two of them were deep in conversation, but Cole’s golden hazel eyes lit up when he saw Ty enter.
“Nephew,” he said in greeting, but that fucking smile he always wore was nowhere in sight. Instead, he seemed cautious. Angry, even. “I trust the hunting trip was successful?” he asked.
“Yes, my king,” Ty said, giving a deferential nod of his head. The movement and title grated on him like a blade on a whetstone, sharpening his rage where it dwelled inside him. He looked up, meeting Cole’s gaze unerringly. If the bastard expected him to react, he’d give him nothing.
“Tell me…did you receive my message?” Cole asked, feigning nonchalance and leaning back in his throne as if this was the most inconsequential conversation of the day. But Ty saw through him. He was upset about something. He was angry. But he was also scared.
“I did,” Ty responded simply.
“Good,” Cole said, over-enunciating the word for emphasis. “Because I know you’re up to something.”
Ty’s body stiffened. He’d been worried about that, but his concern over Ena had swamped everything. Now that he was in the wolf’s den, fear came flooding back through him. What did Cole know? What did he suspect?
“What do you mean, my king?” Ty asked, feigning ignorance. Better to let him reveal his suspicions first.
“Don’t play innocent with me, Ty. I’m no fool.” The man’s voice was pure venom, and he seemed ruffled in a way that Ty wasn’t used to seeing. “I know you lust for my throne. I know you plan to use that witch’s Gift to overthrow me, to control me with it somehow.”
Ty wanted to laugh, but he kept a straight face. The man was fucking delusional—making up stories in his head like a deranged old fool. Ty had never even considered such a thing, but at least Cole didn’t seem to know about the amulet.
“Uncle, I—”
Cole cut him off. “Don’t lie to me, boy. The only reason you still live is because, despite your witch-blood, you are the eldest son of the eldest son, and the one true heir to the Underworld. But you and I both know it won’t be yours until I’m dead.”
There wasn’t a day of his life when Ty didn’t remember that. The fact that Cole thought he needed reminding was, again, laughable.
“So I want to give you some friendly advice, for your sake as much as mine.” Cole leaned forward, placing his elbows on the sturdy table in front of him and clasping his hands together.
“Witches are dangerous. They cannot be trusted, no matter the end you desire. You will let her go, or as Iblis is my Master, I’ll take her from you. ”
Ty locked eyes with him and saw in the depths of his uncle’s gaze that he meant it. Every fiber of his being ached to launch himself at the man, ending him and his threat against Ena forever, but he fucking couldn’t. All he could do was nod his head deferentially to indicate his understanding.
“Good. You’re dismissed,” Cole said with a wave of his hand.
Ty turned on his heel and walked calmly out of the Great Antre. It wasn’t until he reached the passageway that he let himself break.
He launched his fist at the hard stone walls of the Underworld, again, and again, and again, until his fist was bloodied and raw.
When he was done, he didn’t feel better, but at least he could think more clearly. And what he thought was that it was time for them to leave.
Ena wasn’t safe here anymore. He wasn’t safe here anymore, if he’d ever truly been. They would have to flee and take whatever books they could with them to figure out the rest of the binding spell.
Because one thing was for certain: despite what Cole asked of him, unless it was her choice, he could never let Ena go.