Page 80 of Prince of the Phantom Sky

Raiden shrugged. “Wasn’t memorable to me.”

Sirona gasped. “You lie! You were all over me, wanting me—”

“Sirona, stop. Why are you doing this? You stayed with Chiron years after that night. We both agreed it was just one night. One night to forget the horrors, to escape the darkness. One night in the arms of who I thought was a friend.”

Sirona stopped short, her mouth parting. “You thought we were friends?”

Raiden tipped his head back. “Yes! Those nights in the bar were some of my favourites during the darkest years of the Mist. I regret that we took it one step further than we should’ve. That we lost whatever friendship we’d been building.”

Sirona’s dark eyes blinked, and she placed a hand over her mouth. “Rai, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s the past.”

“No, listen, please. I’m sorry. This is all Skylar and Cassidy’s doing. They asked me to trick you back into bed now Kora is here. They hoped it would distract you from her. Please, don’t hate me. Since Chiron left me I . . .” Sirona dipped her head in shame. “I’ve felt more alone than I ever have.”

Raiden froze. Anger simmered, not directed at Sirona, but at his sister for meddling. At her desire to keep Kora as far away from their family as possible. “Skylar and Cassidy,” he repeated coldly.

“Yes, but please don’t be mad, Rai!” Sirona shuffled closer. “We’re all worried about you, about her. That she’s clouding your judgement, that you can’t see the threat she still poses.”

“She’s not a threat, Sirona. You all see her as an enemy.”

“Because she is! Rai, she just brought someone back from the dead! That’s not normal. What if Barron already knows about this? What if he’s primed her into a new magical weapon and sent her directly into your arms?” Sirona’s voice raised an octave.

Raiden shook his head, his beliefs unwavering. “No. You didn’t see her at Mossfell. You haven’t been inside her mind like I have. We need to help her.”

“You know she’s not Kordelia, right?” Sirona’s pitiful stare sickened him.

For once, the years of hope of reuniting with Kordelia didn’t smother Raiden. He no longer felt the pressing need to free her, to bring her back. Instead, an intense curiosity possessed him about Kora. She was unique, and completely opposite to Kordelia. Her beauty shone within, and her loyalty and determination sang to his soul.

“Kordelia’s gone,” Raiden sighed. “You know just as well as I that what remains is dark magic. Just don’t tell anyone, Sirona. There’s something . . . different with Kora. Something we need to be careful about. Please, trust that I know what I’m doing.”

Sirona quietened, her fingertips drumming against her thighs before answering. “One drink at the Lagoon with me, and I won’t say anything. For old times’ sake.”

“One drink?” Raiden’s lips quirked. If that’s all she wanted, he could do that. “Fine. Just stop listening to my sister’s whims.”

“Duly noted,” Sirona smiled.

Raiden nodded and, as he turned to leave, a wave of terror hit him square in the chest. He doubled over, knocking into the doorframe as Sirona rushed to him.

“Rai! What’s wrong?”

He sucked in deep breaths and his body violently shook, goosebumps raising his flesh. He was frozen, like he’d been submerged into northern waters. Haizea, save him. Sirona’s hands swept over him, methodical as she checked his heart rate and forehead.

“You’re burning up, what’s going on?”

Deep in his mind, a scream. Followed by a cold laugh. His gut twisted at the familiar tone, and the burning line that’d been strengthening in the void went dark, submerged in tar.

“Follow me,” he rumbled, his power exploding into the castle. Tapestries and paintings rattled on the walls as his magic frantically searched for Kora. Sirona followed Raiden as he raced down halls on the lower levels, her speed impressive as he led them back to the main foyer.

He couldn’t find her. His tether to Kora was so dim, it’d nearly vanished. Panic gripped him in a vice, and Sirona gently placed a hand on his back as he panted between the ballroom and the arena.

“Rai, you need to sit down. You’re freakishly hot, and not in a good way.”

Ignoring Sirona, Raiden leapt as his magic beckoned him up the stairs. Sirona wheezed behind him now, tying her long locks up into a bun as he fled down the west wing hallways, his magic screaming at him that it’d found her.

Raiden burst into Kora’s chamber, his mind frantic at the quiet of the void, his heart thundering. Kora lay crumpled within Aryn’s arms at the base of the mezzanine, her cheeks stained black.

“What happened?” Raiden strode towards them, wary of how Aryn’s fingers matched his eyes as he gently stroked Kora’s hair.