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“The torture you’re enduring?” Victor asks incredulously. “We’re the ones who are tied up.”
“For good reason,” Nyssa says, her powers tightening around the former council members as she hops off the desk and strides over to grip Victor’s shoulder. Quicker than a whip, she unleashes her pronged sword, power sparking between the points as she drags it up to his throat. “They’re going to do some checks, and then we’re going to have a little discussion about your involvement with Helene and Romulus. Hopefully, you’ll be more forthcoming than the last time.”
“What the hell are you talking ab—” Victor’s question cuts off abruptly as power zaps close to his skin.
“Kyros and Orrin, can you check them over again?” Nyssa asks, taking a step away from Victor, her sword still raised in warning.
“Of course,” Kyros responds, stepping towards Anastasia.
“P-please,” Anastasia mutters.
“No one’s hurting you ... yet,” Orrin says, standing in front of Victor.
“Don’t you dare—”
Victor’s protest is cut off though, as Orrin places his palm on Victor’s head. Orrin speaks the ancient words of his spell, searching the depths of Victor’s mind and knocking him out momentarily.
Kyros sweeps his golden healing light off Anastasia first before moving to Agathon, and shaking his head as he finishes, signaling there’s nothing physically wrong with them.
The room vibrates with anticipation as we wait for any sign the spell has loosened its hold on the former council members. A shiver runs up my spine as I remember the blood-curdling scream Anastasia let loose the last time, and I grit my teeth in preparation, but it never comes.
“There’s no trace of the spell lurking anywhere in his mind,” Orrin says, releasing Victor abruptly. He wipes his hands on his robes in disgust before moving on to Agathon and Anastasia.
“Of course there’s no spell,” Victor says incredulously. “Now, what is the meaning of this? You might be one of the light majors, but I am a council member—”
“Youwerea council member,” I interrupt, unable to bury the smugness in my tone.
“How dare you—” Victor snarls, but his protest is cut off by Osias.
“You’ve obviously forgotten what you did while under the spell’s effects, so why don’t you shut up so we can get you caught up?” Osias strides to the front of the room to stand in front of the sniveling god of fire.
Victor looks like he’s about to say something else, but with one look at Osias’ venomous expression, he presses his lips into a firm line, doing the first smart thing he’s done all day.
“Please clear the air for us,” Agathon says, his brows furrowed as he finally catches sight of Octavia standing in the back.
Before anyone can get a word out though, the creak of the wooden door opening splits through the room, plunging us all into silence. Nervous energy radiates through my limbs as I wait for them to step past the barrier, my muscles tensed and ready for the worst.
“Ah, so kind of you all to wait.” My defenses lower the moment Mateo strides into the room, his arm draped around our mate’s shoulders.
My jaw ticks as I scan them over. They’d left wearing their leather armor, with thick dirt and blood coating every crevice of it. Now they appear to be wearing the same clothes, yet they’re missing the same signs of battle that caked the thick material before.
“Mateo,”I project to him, growling his name and eyeing our mate’s hair. Sometime in the hectic aftermath of the battle, her hair must have come loose from her ponytail, but the wisps of hair sticking up at the top of her head make it clear just what the two of them had been doing.
I don’t wait for him to respond though. Instead, I clasp Olivia’s hand and tug her free from his grip and right into my side.
Jealousy and anger flicker to life inside me, wrapping around my chest like a vise. He should have been comforting her, taking care of her—but not like that. On the other hand, I can’t help the tick in my jaw, irritation clawing its way up again at not having thought of it first. I could have been the one to sweep her away and actually take care of her, unlike that selfish asshole.
“What—” Olivia asks, but her words cut off as I send a gust of air through her hair, subtly smoothing it over for her.
“Thank you,”Olivia projects to me and nestles into my side. I drape my arm over her shoulder, throwing a menacing glare at Mateo.
“Seriously?”Mateo projects in bewilderment, but his protest is cut short by Victor.
“Who is she?” Agathon asks.
At the same time Victor snaps. “Can someone explain what the hell is going on already?”
“Sheis Olivia,” Osias says, stepping closer to Victor to eclipse his view of us. “My daughter. Watch what you say, because your actions played a role in Romulus capturing her.”
