Page 17

I couldn’t really blame him for the irritation in his voice. Not when there hadn’t been time to explain anything properly after the throne room. Lazaros had needed a healer, Aster had practically carried him there, and Atlas had followed with the kind of grim urgency that made everyone else move quickly around him. Since then, every explanation had simply been overtaken by the next crisis waiting to unfold.

Which was why I looked towards Lazaros, and Lazaros in turn looked towards me. Then both of us turned our attention toward Aster. Which also meant that the second Aster realized where this was heading, he visibly recoiled.

“Oh no,” he said, immediately lifting both hands in surrender. “I’m not getting dragged into this.”

“Aster,” I warned.

“What?” he asked, pushing away from the wall with a sigh. “You want me to explain the impossible part or the completely impossible part?” Atlas’s eyes narrowed at this, and I hissed,

“Not exactly helping here.”

Aster, unfortunately, looked entirely unbothered by the reaction. As for Atlas, he looked seconds away from blowing up, and I wasn’t sure at who first.

“I don’t care who explains it, as long as one of you starts talking... and now.”

Atlas’s stern tone didn’t match the gentle way he took my hand and led me towards the head of the table, releasing me only long enough to pull out the chair beside his own. He waited until I reached it, then nudged it back slightly with one hand. The scrape of wood against stone echoed through the vast room, and when I hesitated, suddenly aware of every pair of eyes watching us, he leaned closer.

His lips brushed the shell of my ear as he murmured his next order.

“Sit.”

When I realized everyone was looking at me, my stomach immediately tightened. Atlas sat beside me, Aster reclaimed his position against the wall with his arms folded across his chest, and Lazaros settled opposite me to the left of his brother.

Then they all looked at me and waited.

“I don’t really know where to start,” I admitted.

Atlas reached for my hand, threading his fingers through mine on the table. The gesture shouldn’t have affected me as much as it did, yet warmth immediately spread through my chest. Since the moment he had stepped through the Rift, leaving me on the other side, I had wanted nothing more than to be near him again, to reassure myself that he was real and alive and not another thing I had lost. Now, with his hand wrapped around mine, some of the anxiety twisting inside me finally began to ease.

Unable to stop myself, I glanced up at him.

His gaze was already waiting for mine.

A faint smile touched the corner of his mouth, softening the tension that had dominated his features ever since we had reunited, and something in my chest fluttered in response. Despite the conversation hanging over us and the uncertainty of everything still to come, the rest of the room seemed to fade into the background.

Unfortunately, Lazaros chose that exact moment to smirk.

The expression was impossible to miss in my peripheral vision, and heat immediately rushed to my cheeks. I looked away from Atlas before either of them could say anything.

“Okay, well, answer this,” Atlas said, his voice calm and encouraging. “How did you know? About Lazaros being possessed?”

My stomach immediately knotted.

Of all the questions he could have asked, that was the one I had been hoping to avoid. Explaining the Labyrinth would be difficult enough. Explaining the visions would be worse. Explaining how I had come to know about his brother being used by an estranged brother, neither of them even knew about… even worse.

“It’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?” he asked, and it was clear he was trying to be patient.

I looked away.

The towering bookshelves lining the walls suddenly became fascinating. Ancient tomes filled every shelf from floor to ceiling, and above them, painted across the domed ceiling, were constellations so intricate and beautiful that I found myself staring far longer than necessary. Anything was preferable to looking directly at Atlas while I figured out how to answer.

Beside me, his fingers tightened around mine. The gesture wasn’t demanding. It was reassuring. Encouraging even. Slowly, I released a long breath and forced myself to meet his gaze once more.

“You’re going to be angry.”

The words hung in the air between us, and Atlas just stared at me, but I saw the subtle shift in his expression. The warmth faded first, followed by the patience, replaced by a growing intensity that immediately made me regret opening my mouth at all. It wasn’t fear for myself that settled in my chest. Atlas would never direct that anger towards me. No, the person I worried about was whoever happened to be standing at the center of this particular shitstorm once he learned what I had been keeping from him.