Domino unfolded to his feet.
Cyrus scowled at him. “Don’t even think about telling me to let this go. And I don’t want to hear knowledge of the ages fromThe Book of Soal, either. We’re leaving.”
“I have no intention of offering you advice. Wisdom isn’t for fools.”
The librarian’s gentle rebuke told me three things. He’d expected this, had prepared for it, and could not be intimidated. He wasn’t afraid of what was to come, his trust in Soal unshakable.
Strung taut, Cyrus opened his mouth, as if he meant to shout or snarl, only to go quiet.
I looked between the two men. The ferocious pull from both made me feel as if I were a knotted rope trapped in a brutal game of tug-of-war.
In the end, I allowed Cyrus to usher me to the transparent wall. I cast a glance over my shoulder. The librarian watched me, his quiet demeanor inviting me back into his orbit of peace.
Words rushed along my tongue, but they died before being spoken. I had a thousand things to say, yet I understood none of them. Better to remain quiet.
The emperor and Winslet were no longer visible through the rift. Unfortunately, a meta now patrolled in the room.
“Are you able to provide us with cover again?” I asked Domino, not letting myself steal a second glance.
“I am.” He strode over and flattened his palms against the wall. “Go.”
My eyes widened as his body turned to white mist, which absorbed into the wall, went through the rift, and filled the palace room. I’d known the fog came from him, but I hadn’t known the fogwashim. Thathewas the one who enveloped me. But how ...?
Cyrus urged me through the wall, the rift, and into the room. The fog wrapped around us, a warm embrace in a cold world.
He opened the door, the dog unaware. Though the number of guards had tripled in the hallway, we exited without notice. As we strode along the hallways, Domino remained with us. The closer we came to our suite, the faster Cyrus walked, until he stormed forward. I almost couldn’t keep up.
When we reached the sitting area connected to the royals’ suites, Domino’s fog released us and drew back. A chill infiltrated my very being, magnifying when a meta approached us, its red eyes flickering.
“G-good boy,” I said when it stopped nearby, watching me specifically.
“Go to our room and stay there.” Cyrus released my hand and stalked to Felix’s door. He didn’t bother knocking, just shouldered his way in.
Stay here? Ha! I raced after him, skirting the meta and catching up as Cyrus yanked a sleeping, suit-clad Felix from bed and tossed himacross the room. The high prince crashed into the wall, waking as he slid to the floor.
A warrior to his core, Felix scrambled to his feet, two daggers already in hand. “Well, I don’t have to wonder what this is about,” he quipped, not the least bit repentant. “Only how you found out.”
The dog stopped at my side, recording the interaction. I froze.
“You shot Arden,” Cyrus said anyway. Slow and measured, he removed his jacket and draped the material from a knob on the dresser. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing the tattoos on his forearms, utterly unbothered by the other man’s weapons and his lack thereof.
“I tried to do you a favor, brother. She’s ruination with a pretty face. Paid by Grandfather, commanded by Astan. Reporting your every move. You’re too enamored to see it.” Bitterness coated the statement. “Trust me, I’ve been there, and I was forced to take care of the problem in a way I will never forget.”
Puzzle pieces clicked. His wife must have been a CURED plant, andhewas the rogue glower who’d killed her. Probably after he’d discovered the truth. To cover his actions, he blamed another. Truth that wasn’t the truth. Maybe before her death his wife had turned him in for being Soalian, and he’d gone through some kind of “treatment.” Maybe not. But I’d bet his thirst for revenge wasn’t directed at Soal but CURED.
“Arden is mine and of no concern to you,” Cyrus stated.
“Butyouare a concern to me, brother. I have a goal, you see, and you play a part in it,” Felix said, twirling his daggers. “Anyone who gets in my way will suffer, even you.”
“Hey! There’s no reason for violence,” I interjected. “Sounds like you both want the same thing. And neither of you wish to be disqualified from becoming king, right?”
Cyrus jutted his chin. “I told you. I have permission to take outanyonewho threatens my life.”
“As do I,” Felix grated.
A heartbeat later, it was too late to intercede. They launched at each other, the battle savage. Felix slashed at Cyrus, who parried andconfiscated a dagger, then followed the disarming with a vicious punch to the face.
The high prince grunted as blood spurted from his nose, but the injury didn’t slow him down. Between slashing at each other, they punched, kicked, and elbowed, grappling over the bed, throughout the space, and into the living room. No part of their bodies was excluded from the abuse.
