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But she studied him. “How …”
He met her wide, searching stare. “How what?”
“How did you wind up like this?” she asked, voice soft. “Your father is …”
“A psychotic dickbag.”
She laughed. “Yes. How did you escape his influence?”
“My friends,” he said, nodding toward the door they’d exited through. “Flynn and Dec kept me sane. Gave me perspective. Well, maybe not Flynn, but Dec did. Still does.”
“Ah.”
He allowed himself the luxury of taking in her face, her expression. Noted the kernel of worry there and asked, “How did it go with your sons before we left yesterday?” He’d heard she’d gone to say goodbye, but nothing about the encounter. And given how haunted her face had looked when they’d left the Depth Charger …
“Great.” The word was terse enough that he thought she wouldn’t go on, but then she amended, “Terrible.” A muscle ticked in her jaw. “I think Brann would want to get to know me, but Ace—Actaeon … He loathes me.”
“It’ll take time.”
She changed the subject. “Do you think your sister will actually find something of use against the Asteri?”
Given how many people over the centuries had probably looked for such a thing, Ruhn didn’t resent her question. “Knowing Bryce, she’s up to something. She always has a few cards up her sleeve. But …” He blew out a breath. “Now that she’s in the fucking Cave of Princes, part of me doesn’t want to know what those cards might entail.”
“Your sister is a force of nature.” Nothing but admiration shone through the words.
Pride glimmered in his chest at the praise, but Ruhn merely said, “She is.” He let that be that.
But the silence that followed was different. Lighter. And he could have sworn he caught Lidia glancing toward him as often as he looked toward her.
* * *
Ithan strode down the halls of the House of Flame and Shadow, Hypaxia at his side, his stomach full and contented after a surprisingly good breakfast in its dim dining hall. They’d been early enough that most people hadn’t yet arrived.
He’d eaten an insane amount, even for him, but given that they were leaving for Avallen tomorrow, he’d wanted to fuel up as much as possible. He’d demanded that they go now, but Jesiba apparently had to arrange transportation and permission for them to enter the island, and since they weren’t telling anyone the truth about why they were going, she also had to weave a web of lies to whoever her contact on the Fae island was.
But soon he could right this awful wrong. They’d find Sofie’s body, get her lightning, and then fix this. It was a slim shard of hope, but one he clung to. One that kept him from crumbling into absolute ruin.
One he could only thank the female beside him for—the female who hadn’t thought twice before helping him so many times. It was for her sake that he made himself keep his tone light as he patted his rock-hard stomach and said, “Did you know they had such good food here?”
Hypaxia smirked. “Why do you think I defected so easily?”
“In it for the food, huh?”
Hypaxia grinned, and he knew the expression was rare for the solemn queen. “I’m always in it for the—”
A shudder rumbled through the black halls, clouds of dust drifting from the ceiling. Ithan kept his footing, wrapping a hand around Hypaxia’s elbow to steady her.
“What the Hel was that?” Ithan murmured, scanning the dark stone above them.
Another boom, and Ithan began running, Hypaxia hurrying behind him, aiming for Jesiba’s office. He was through the double doors a moment later, revealing Jesiba at her desk, her face taut, eyes wide—
“What the Hel is going on?” Ithan demanded, rushing over to where she had a feed up on her computer, showing exploding bombs.
Another impact hit, and Ithan motioned Hypaxia to get under the desk. But the former witch-queen did no such thing, instead asking, “Is that feed right above us?”
“No,” Jesiba said, her voice so hoarse she almost sounded like a Reaper. “Omega-boats pulled into the Istros.” On the feed, buildings crumbled. “Their deck launchers just fired brimstone missiles into Asphodel Meadows.”
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