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Violence. He’s eager to kill, and I am happy to offer him the death his violence demands.
He just has to agree to my plan.
“And Royce?” he hedges, talking to Zy now. “I assume he’s been kept alive for a reason.”
Zy looks at Kornelius, but he hasn’t said a word this entire time and doesn’t look like he’s going to start now. “Royce isn’t alone,” Zy finally says. “He has many warlocks working behind him, trying to resurrect the patriarchs. Cutting off the head of a hydra doesn’t kill it. That just pisses it off.”
Jasper’s gaze moves to mine. “If we’re killing Daithi, then that’s the heart of the hydra, isn’t it? Royce can still die.”
“Yes,” Zy finally agrees. “If we can eliminate Daithi and the threat of the patriarchs coming back, it’ll eliminate any chance of rebounding on us if Royce is gone.”
A devious grin spreads over Jasper’s face. “Then tell me how this plan of yours works, little witchling. I’m all ears.”
I grin, too, because I quite like my idea. It’ll give me a chance to finally face my nightmares instead of running from them.
I’m done running.
“We’re going to set a trap—one where I’m the bait.”
Chapter32
Kornelius
Iwatch with a sense of envy as Jasper carefully adjusts Issy on his lap. He uses his shoulder to prop her head up as she winces with every movement, but it seems that his death touch is ironically helping her heal, at least a little bit. It’ll have to do until Amala can come and finish the job.
They’re both naked minus a bra and panties for her and boxers for Jasper. The deathly pallor has left her skin, returning her to a goddess made of marble.
Every curve begs for kisses and entices me to draw closer, but Jasper is the only one allowed to touch her right now.
That’s not exactly what I’m envious of, though. It’s the fact that he was able to not only wake her up after she had left us, but also relieve some of her pain.
All I can offer is my regret, which isn’t worth much.
She’s still horribly injured and two days haven’t been enough to promote the kind of healing she needs. My presence has done nothing other than allow my guilt to fester.
Not after what I did to her.
My stomach churns again, something it’s been doing constantly for the last forty-eight hours, making me uneasy.
I almost killed her.
This is all my fault.
“It’s a sound plan,” Zy says, joining in on the conversation that’s been going on while Jasper helps Issy heal.
“It’s a plan that we’re not pursuing,” Jasper immediately replies.
Issy has enough strength now to roll her eyes. “I’m sorry. Have I missed the part in the past hour where you had a better one?”
His jaw flexes as he continues to roll his thumb over her knuckles. It’s not until she flips her wrist to tickle his fingers that I realize there’s a new mark on her arm.
And I’ve only seen it one place before.
Zyran notices it, too. He immediately straightens and adjusts his glasses. “Where did that come from?” he asks.
Issy looks down at her wrist while Jasper helps her lift it to examine the mark closer. “Oh, right. The spirit I was talking about gave it to me to connect us.”
Jasper frowns. “I don’t like that. We can’t trust some random spirit you met in the death plane. Especially one powerful enough to stand up against the patriarchs. We could just be trading one enemy for an even worse one.”
