Someone sucked in a breath sharply, and everyone’s attention turned to Nuala kneeling next to Rian. It seemed that her sight still worked despite whatever Riordan had done to dampen their magic. Because those mismatched eyes were milky white, her expression was eerily slack, and a brown sigil had appeared on her forehead.
“What in the nine hells—” Ares breathed.
“Silence,” Rian hissed at him before he turned back to Nuala with anticipation.
“You have suffered great loss. The death of a brother,” Nuala stated, and her voice had gone much deeper. It was unnerving enough that even Ares stepped back from her.
Rian had said she could See more whenever she was exposed to people and places. But she must have been able to pick up on some of our thoughts somehow as well, because how else could she know about Adonis?
“You are also marked for consumption, just as he was. You and your mate have been hexed! There is a curse upon you both. One that I could free you from once Rian has been unbridled,” she continued.
“Wait! Are you saying you can remove the magic that is limiting our power with the Fuath?” I verified eagerly and glanced at Riordan. He seemed unnerved by the witch but still intrigued as he waited for her answer.
“Yes. But I will not. Not yet,” said Nuala flatly.
“And why not yet?” Riordan demanded, and I knew he expected her to try and extort us.
“Because she willknow. And then it will be too late,” Nuala stated simply, still unblinking as I shivered.
“She?” Riordan verified tentatively, going even more still beneath me. I was not sure either of us even breathed as we waited to see if she could finally tell us who was plotting against us. All I was able to get out of Hypatia was that they were an entityof many threads all layered over one another so they could not be cut. And apparently they had a song of divine retribution in their blood.
Whatever that meant…
“She is a drinker of magic born under a dark moon on the darkest night. She is a weaver and a thief; the Spider who stole a thousand threads,” Nuala said as her brows tightened slightly as if she were trying to focus.
And my skin instantly began to crawl when I recalled that Despoina had also mentioned something about this. She spoke of blood magics that pierced the veils, and that everyone was beholden to someone called “the Spider.” That must also be the person who Hypatia claimed could weave threads together to keep them from being cut.
“Who is the Spider?” I asked anxiously, even though my heart had begun to see the truth.
“The scorned daughter of the Erinyes has had many names in her extended lifetime. But I think you know her best as the blood witch they call… Jade.”
EPILOGUE
Nefrítis of Athens paced the roughly hewn stone bedroom with both hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. She was sick of weak allies. She was tired of waiting to take what was hers and being trapped underground.
“Miss Jade,” called the vampire guard as he peeked his head into her room. He had quietly slipped out into the hallway hours before when she began breaking furniture after Queen Aoibheal was killed.
“What?” she snarled.
“Jae returned. He has the two griffins you requested,” he informed her nervously.
“Finally! At least someone can follow simple orders,” she muttered as she stalked past him. She went down the hall to yet another windowless room where they kept all the hostages. And sure enough, she was pleased to see the two new griffin males among the dozens of prisoners that were shackled along the walls.
She had only ever heard about these men from reports and spies, but they were well known to all the Imítheos in her living arsenal. All of whom were whispering to them fervently before she entered the room.
Ilias and Markos Vasilikós.
Markos was the handsome male with caramel hair and bronzed-gold eyes. It would have been clear to her from his pretty features that he had fathered King Adonis even if herstolen magic had not sensed his lineage. But it was Ilias right next to him upon whom her attention settled. With his mahogany waves and striking honey-gold eyes, this was clearly the male who had sired both Riordan and Rhea on their female mate. And along with his ruggedly attractive features, he also seemed to have passed on that infuriating defiance to his son too.
“Welcome,” Jade taunted the males with her arms out to indicate the room. “Bring the king’s father to me first,” she added to the vampire guards waiting behind her.
Markos immediately tried to block his beloved with a wing that swept one of the vampires straight into a wall with a sudden crack. That earned the imbecile a backhand from another of the guards.
“Do not hurt him!” Ilias snarled at them as he lunged against his restraints much the same way his son had done when she had him chained all too briefly.
Two hundred years. She chased that fucking griffin all over the vast Canadian wilderness for two hundred years. Only to have him slip right through her fingers thanks to a rogue fire witch! If not for Amira, the Vasilikós power would have already belonged to Jade by then. She still could not believe the little bitch had convinced Riordan to make her his mate, and now Amira could freely use what was meant to belong to Jade. The fire witch had zero idea what to do with it or just how monumental it was.
Jade hadplansfor Amira. She was going to make sure the other witch suffered for the trouble she had caused. She would have already had her in hand if the Wild Hunt had not shown up to steal her away. She might have even gone to get Amira herself, but she was not willing to risk facing Rian DorTìodhlac and his shadows.
