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“If we can’t take him down, we might have to return to the castle and speak with my father.”
But that would be the very last thing they would do.
11
ORION
By the time Orion got Devon into his room, night had fallen. It was particularly cold tonight, the chill sneaking past the thin windowpanes and creeping under the layers of his clothes. He threw a log into the chimney, and golden flames ate it up, roaring to life.
Devon lay on the bed, barely moving. He had said very little ever since he’d woken up.
Now he pressed his cheek against the pillow, his features drawn as he tracked Orion’s movements with care. “If you’re angry with me, Arkimedes, you can speak now or forever hold your peace.”
“Peace?” Orion scoffed, straightening as he dusted wood fibers and ash off his hands. “We needed to know how to stop the Zorren, Devon. Not whether I was behind it all.”
For someone so tall and strong, Devon looked frail now, weakened by the ancient magic of the mirror. “Just because you said you wouldn’t do it, doesn’t mean your blabber convinced me.”
Could he storm out of this place like Nava had done mere minutes ago? Tempting. Still, deep down, Orion was glad Devon had tried to protect her from harm. Even if it felt a lot like betrayal.
“At least your question gave us something to work with.” Orion headed over to the window and tugged at the curtain to shut it. This cold wouldn’t do much to help Devon heal.
“Out with it.”
“The one opening the portals is an immortal, and we have no idea how we will stop him.”
Devon’s lips parted in obvious shock.
“Unless you know how to defeat an immortal?” Orion crossed his arms.
“Of course I don’t.”
“That’s the information we needed from the Vulcan. If we’re to survive this mess, we have to work together, not against each other.”
“She’s a Beekeeper, Arkimedes.” Devon slammed his open palm against the bed. Particles of dust rose, encircling him in a halo. “I want to protect her, and if you were destined to kill her in some strange twist of timelines, I wasn’t going to make it easy on you.”
“You knew as well as I did that we only had one shot at the Vulcan?—”
Devon’s harsh laughter cut him off. “Only weeks ago, you brought me a burnt book and asked me to translate it. When I told you the prophecy, you thought it referred to you.”
Orion didn’t need to hear his brother’s justifications. In the logical part of his brain, he understood. But that didn’t mean it hurt any less.
He turned his face away. “I’d hoped you’d believed me when I reassured you that I couldn’t hurt Nava. Not in this lifetime, nor the next.”
“You’re in love now, but how many fall out of love?” Devon reasoned. “What if you stop loving her tomorrow morning and destroy the world by nightfall?”
Anger boiled over as he crossed to the bed with wide strides. Heat flooded his cheeks, and his shadows darkened, crawling over the bed. “That’s not how soulmates work. I’d rather die than hurt her!” In fact, he would die, too, if Nava were to be killed.
“How would I know? I don’t have a soulmate of my own for comparison. You have the girl and the father who wants you home. You have the kingdom, the power, and a life full of purpose.”
“So what is it, Devon?” Orion narrowed his eyes. His shadows retreated, inch by inch, as his anger cooled, replaced by the bitterness of heartbreak. “Were you truly doubting my nature because you were concerned about Nava’s well-being? Or were you secretly hoping I was going to be the villain all along because you’re jealous?”
Devon’s mouth opened, then snapped shut. His brows furrowed as he took in Orion’s words. “You’re twisting this…”
“Am I?” Orion backed away to the door. He just wanted to get out of here. To be alone. He swallowed a few times before speaking again to make sure his voice wouldn’t crack. “Tell me it’s not true, then. Swear it to me.”
The silence was absolute.
Orion nodded and turned to leave, pausing by the door when Devon’s breath hitched.
