“I offer myself to you, goddess,” she muttered. “If you accept me, I will serve you however you see fit and work to ensure you never regret your decision.”
I stumbled backward several steps, fighting a tide of sickness. Where was Cyrus? He should appear any moment ...
Any second now . . .
“Arden,” Briar Rose called, but I ignored her.
Hot tears welled, and I pressed my fingers against my quivering lips. He wasn’t dead. I would know it. Sense it.
Maybe he needed help. Yes, yes. I’d gear up, go out there, and find him.
I hurried toward the entrance just as Cyrus stomped in. Oh, thank goodness! He was alive.
His gaze found me and narrowed, his lashes nearly twining. He was bloodier than the others, the brand on his face taut, his eyes stark. Grim. A wound on his throat still leaked crimson. Gashes marred his blood-coated hands. His clothing was torn in multiple places.
“Cyrus!” I rushed to him and threw my arms around his shoulders. “You survived.”
“I did.” For the first time in our association, he didn’t hug me back. His arms remained at his sides, his hands fisted. He huffed every breath.
I cut off a cry. “Felix is dead?”
“He is.” His expression didn’t change, but his tenor flattened, becoming deadened. “He fought hard to kill me, but I took the necessary steps to prevail.”
Domino’s words echoed inside my head.Fate forever changed.
I patted his arm. “I’m so sorry, Cyrus.” The words failed to express the depths of my sympathy.
“Come with me. There’s much we must discuss.” He pried me off, leaving smears of blood to cool on my skin, then turned on his heel and stalked away, expecting me to follow.
I hurried after him, countless questions pawing for release. It was a miracle I kept them under lock and key, saying nothing. Not here, not now. I couldn’t turn off my mind, however. Had he rejected Astan’s offer? He must have. Except, I wasn’t so sure ...
Necessary steps.
As we turned a corner, we came upon the emperor. He waited at the end of the hall, chin up, his arms behind his back. He hadn’t cleaned Giselle’s blood from his skin, and I shuddered.
“I knew it would be you,” he said with a proud grin. “I always knew.”
“Bow,” Cyrus commanded without slowing a step.
The emperor lost his pride, his joy, and blanched. Though clearly grinding his teeth and stiff, he obeyed, bowing. “We’ll work together, you and I, and bring Soal to his knees.”
“No.Wewon’t.” Cyrus stopped mere inches from him and, without hesitation, palmed a dagger and slammed it into the emperor’s belly. Not once, not twice, but three times.
I pressed a hand over my mouth and stumbled away from the violence, my eyes going wide with shock.
The old man gasped and toppled, twitching on the floor. Cyrus stepped over him and continued.
My brain blipped. Had that just happened? Was it another vision? It must be. Because my Cyrus wouldn’t murder a man in cold blood, even someone as cold and callous as his grandfather.
“Arden,” he snapped.
Floundering, I gave chase. He led me to the catacombs of the palace, into a library. Not Soal’s but similar, with freshly polished wood, artifacts from eons past displayed in glass and a tree growing from the floor, blooming with shiny golden fruit.
“C-Cyrus?” I asked, uncertain, drawing my arms around my middle. “Why did you do that? Why did you kill your grandfather?”
He shot me a look, his brazen grin unfolding slowly. “Because I’ll share my throne with no one.”
Six golden stars flashed in his eyes.
