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“Danika Fendyr would have skewered all of you to the front gates of the Den for how you treated Quinlan.”
“Danika would have …” Ithan trailed off as a thought struck him. “Danika questioned the wolf power structure, you know. Even she thought it was weird that the Fendyrs went unchecked for so long.”
“Did she?”
Ithan turned toward the sorceress’s desk. “Bryce and I found some research papers Danika had hidden. She wanted to know why the Fendyrs were so dominant—I don’t think she approved of it, either.” He nodded to himself. “She would have encouraged the others to take the antidote. To kick Sabine to the curb.”
Jesiba’s brows rose. “If you say so. You knew Danika far better than I ever did.”
“I know she hated her mother—and thought the hierarchies were grossly unfair.” Ithan paced a few steps. “I have to get those papers. I’ll bring them to the Den to show everyone that it’s not just me questioning this, but that even one of the Fendyrs disagreed with their unchecked dominance. It might help sway them toward accepting an alternative to Sabine. Sigrid’s a Fendyr, but she’s not in the direct line. That might help them accept her as an alternative.”
“They’ll say you forged them.” Jesiba typed away at her keyboard.
“That’s a risk I have to take,” Ithan said, striding to the door. “The days of Sabine keeping the wolves down, of making us stand by while innocents suffer … that has to end. We need a change. A big one. And maybe, if Urd’s got our backs, what’s most important within Sigrid still remains intact, unchanged by becoming a Reaper. If that’s the case, I’ll take Sigrid over Sabine any day.”
Maybe it wasn’t a matter of undoing what had been done, but rather of playing the bad hand that had been dealt to him. Of adapting.
“Open-minded as that is, Holstrom,” Jesiba said, shutting her laptop, “do you really think it’s a wise decision to not only go to the Den utterly defenseless, but to start preaching that they accept a Reaper as their Prime Apparent? Let’s not forget that some of the wolves might still like Sabine and her style of leadership. Many probably do, in fact.”
“Yeah, but it’s time to give them the chance to choose otherwise. To break free of her control.”
“You forget,” Jesiba said darkly, “that from the very start, they’ve been the Asteri’s chief enforcers. They’ve never shown any inclination to break free of anyone’s control.”
“It’s a risk I have to take,” he insisted. “And I can’t sit around.”
“Quinlan told you to protect Hypaxia.”
“This won’t take long. Keep an eye on her for me—please.”
He walked to the door, and Jesiba spoke as he wrapped his fingers around the knob. Her voice was heavy, resigned. “Be careful, pup.”
* * *
Ithan snuck over to Bryce’s apartment using the House of Flame and Shadow’s unnervingly accurate map of the sewers. He didn’t want to think about who else made regular use of those tunnels.
Even with the access that Danika had long ago granted him, he entered the building through the roof door. There was no doubt the building was being watched, and he kept to the shadows as much as he could. If the guard downstairs saw him on the cameras, no one came to investigate.
Danika’s papers remained where he and Bryce had left them: in the junk mail drawer. He leafed through them just to make sure they did indeed say all he’d remembered.
They did. It could be a convenient bit of backup for his claims. See? Even Danika wanted all this to change. And, yes, Sigrid is a Fendyr—but she’s also different—she could be a step in the right direction.
He’d find some way to say it more eloquently, but Danika’s name still carried weight.
Ithan gently folded the pile of papers and slid them into the back pocket of his jeans. Outside, the city remained quiet—hushed. Grieving.
And inside this building …
Gods, it was weird to see this apartment, so empty and stale without its occupants.
Ithan glanced to the white sectional, like he’d find Athalar and Bryce sitting there, Syrinx curled up with them.
How far away that existence seemed now. He doubted it’d ever return. Wondered if his friends would ever return. If Bryce was—
He didn’t let himself finish the thought.
He had no choice but to keep going. However it played out. And Jesiba was right. To walk into the Den was likely suicide, but … He glanced down the hall. To Bryce’s bedroom door.
Maybe he didn’t need to go in unarmed.
