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All while fighting for his life as his dark curse consumed him.
“This Evander,” Hestia said. “What is he to you?”
“As I said,” Mona said carefully, “he is my friend.”
Hestia gave her a sly smile over her shoulder. “I gather he is more than that, little witch. I scent his demon magic all over you. You are his mate.”
Mona tried to hide her wince, but Hestia chuckled.
“Fear not, child. I will not share your secrets.”
“You keep saying I should trust you, but it isn’t that simple,” Mona said. “I know you are powerful. I know you are revered by witches. But that doesn’t mean I believe you.”
To her surprise, Hestia nodded. “I would consider you a fool if you did. That is why I am proving my loyalty by guiding you to the portal. But I won’t lie to you, Mona. It is very likely he’s been captured. Or worse.”
Or worse.
Mona swallowed hard, unwilling to consider the worst. Instead, she focused on that word: mate.
It sounded so animalistic. Like a basic need to fulfill. So simple compared to what she truly felt for Evander.
He was more than her mate. He was her soul. The melody of her song.
It took all of her restraint not to scream, to pound her fist into the earth and summon her magic, to track down Trivia and wring her throat for what she had done.
Why? Why had she taken Evander? To kill him? Or was there something else Mona wasn’t seeing?
She wracked her brain, remembering the events leading up to her passage through the portal.
Evander had vanished. At first, Mona believed Trivia had abducted him. But Evander was more powerful than that. He would have fought.
No… He must have followed her.
He had figured something out. Something Trivia wanted to keep quiet. That was why she had taken him through the portal. Not to kill him.
But to silence him.
“You are awfully quiet,” Hestia commented. The statement wasn’t accusatory, but observant.
“I worry for him,” Mona admitted. There was no use in denying it. Hestia could already sense that much.
“I am surprised you care for him so. Magic like yours does not mingle well with the magic of a death god.”
“Ours does,” Mona said. “He was the guardian of my soul in the spirit world. My soul remains anchored to his even now.”
Hestia stopped in her tracks, her spine going rigid. Slowly, she turned to face Mona, her eyes flaring wide. “The guardian of your soul?” Her voice was deadly quiet.
Alarm raced through Mona’s chest, and her pulse quickened. “Yes.”
“Are you saying you died? That you went to the Underworld as a spirit?”
Mona’s thoughts spun as she tried to reach whatever conclusion Hestia had come to. “Yes.”
Hestia approached her and placed her warm hands on Mona’s shoulders, bending low to meet her gaze. “Mona, this is very important. When you came back from the dead, was your magic different?”
Mona’s mouth turned dry as she reflected back to her resurrection. She hadn’t done much with her magic until she’d returned to the Underworld, and even then, things had been hazy because she had lost her memories. It was the price she had paid to return.
But one memory burned bright within her—a memory she would cling to until her dying breath.
