“Keep moving!” Atlas snapped, voice ragged.
The further they went, the more frantic his movements became. He kicked a door until it flew off its hinges, only to find another barren cell. His chest tightened, heart hammering louder. He could feel her—heknewshe had been here.
The last cell loomed ahead, and with a heavy grunt, he shoved his way through.
Dread cloaked him as a chain hung broken from the wall, stainedwith fresh blood. His stomach turned, shadows writhing faster, more violent as his panic surged.
“Where the hell is she?” Atlas snarled.
Draevyn said something behind him, but he couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t even think or see past the sick twisting in his gut.
Because she wasn’t here.
They left no doors unopened, no walls untouched. Elowynne wasgone.
Atlas stood in the center of the hall, chest heaving, bile rising in his throat. The dungeon spun, his vision blurring red at the edges. He dug his hands into his hair, fighting the urge to scream until his voice broke. His shadows lashed out instead, cracking stone and tearing at the cells as though they could claw her out of hiding.
“She was here,” he growled, the words tearing from his throat like broken glass. “Shewas here.I can feel it. I can?—”
A heavy hand fell to his shoulder, and his eyes lifted to meet Draevyn’s.
“They must’ve known we were coming,” he whispered, an apology in his eyes.
Atlas’s knees nearly buckled as a wave of sickness rolled through him at the unbearable thought of what had been done to her—what wasstillbeing done. He slammed his fist into the wall, splitting the stone.
He wanted to tear the entire castle down with his bare hands.
Atlas’s spine straightened, his jaw ticking. “So where do we go now?”
Draevyn swallowed hard. “I think it’s time we kill that fucking goddess.”
CHAPTER 67
Syrena
Syrena lounged back on her throne, one arm draped lazily across its armrest as her opposite hand twirled the Aeress trident. The sound of its shaft scraping against the marble floor echoed in the cavernous chamber, in hopes to draw her prisoner’s eyes to it.
Across from her, arms spread apart and shackled against the wall, was Lephyrin’s soon-to-be queen. Her hair hung in disarray, her once luminous brown skin was now faded to a dull pallor, and her wrists were rubbed raw where the manacles bit into her. And shining in the light was that lovely little velsinyte ring adorning her finger, keeping her mind control powers at bay.
But even beaten down, she carried herself with a stubborn quiet, refusing to give Syrena the satisfaction of fear she craved.
It was extremely fucking irritating, but it was the least of her problems.
And bravery always looked sweet right before it broke.
“Do forgive the sudden change of scenery,” Syrena purred, tilting her head. Her voice dripped with mockery as she studied the girl like a cat would a cornered mouse. “You’re far too valuable to leave sitting down there in chains when your precious little king is tearing through my halls.”
The elven’s golden eyes widened, her brows lifting half-way up her forehead.
“Yes… he’s here. Isn’t that just darling?” Syrena leaned forward, eyes glittering. “Racing through my kingdom, slaughtering my guards, and thinking love will carry him to your side.” A low laugh rippled from her throat. “It’s almost cute. But the only place that love will take you both is to your graves. And now you’ll be used as bait to capture them.”
The great doors slammed open and Azarian strode in before dropping to a knee before her. “Kaelypso is in the harbor.”
At that, Syrena rose and she stepped down from the dais. Her smile sharpened, showing the faintest edge of teeth.
“Good,” she said, satisfaction rolling through her. Her gaze flicked to the chained female, savoring the faintest widening of her eyes. “Everything is falling into place. Let her thrash and rage. Every ounce of power she spends weakens her for me.”
She trailed her fingers over the trident’s shaft in her hand. “Our plan is working.”
