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He crunched it down in two bites before he nudged at her chest with his head.
“Stop it,” she barked around the oomph as she stumbled backwards, falling on her ass from the force of the beast.
The sound of boots crunching had her turning her head, and Hazel dropped a set of reins in her lap. “Take him flying.”
That was all the High Witch offered before she strode away. Talwyn turned back to Thorne to find his head already lowered in the way she’d seen him do for Arantxa when they’d prepared to fly to Siofra.
Slowly, Talwyn got to her feet, and smoothed a hand along the top of his head, feathers soft beneath her fingers. An acceptance. Of her as she was.
“Okay,” she whispered, lifting the reins. “Let’s fly.”
Chapter31
Cyrus
Cyrus shoved bits of egg and fruit around on his plate, an elbow propped on the table and his temple resting against his fist. He wasn’t hungry, but if he didn’t at least pretend to eat, Cass would throw a godsdamn fit.
But Cass wasn’t here. This morning he sat at the breakfast table alone. Scarlett still had not woken up. It had been three days since they’d gone to the Southern Islands and the female had shaken the very realm. They’d all met up on one of the islands outside the Avonleyan Wards as they’d planned. Cyrus wasn’t sure what was more surprising: the fact that they’d all survived or the fact that Sorin had somehow Traveled.
Kailia had poured a vial of Cethin’s blood into the sea, and Cassius had Traveled them all back to Aimonway. They’d all slept. He and Cass had slept an entire day. The Ash Riders and Sorin nearly two. Rayner’s power wasn’t anywhere near replenished. He hadn’t seen the Avonleyan Queen to know how she fared. Sorin had managed to refill Scarlett’s reserves before he’d fallen into the deep sleep needed to restore their gifts, and Cyrus had given Cassius extra blood when he’d woken.
Cyrus had been awake for nearly two hours this morning when the knock had come on their door. With Cass still sleeping, he’d been surprised to find Tybalt on the other side.
“Do you have news from Razik?” Cyrus had asked, stepping aside so the Avonleyan Commander could enter.
Tybalt had shaken his head, features tightening some. “I have not heard from him in quite some time.”
“Should we be worried?”
Tybalt had flashed him a tight smile. “Razik is resourceful, and he will not leave Eliza right now. I am sure the two of them together are a formidable pair.”
Cyrus had nodded. He had a point, but still…
All right, fine. He missed Eliza. He hadn’t seen her in weeks, and before that she’d been healing. He wanted some sense of normalcy, and that included her snark.
Tybalt had cleared his throat then. “I was hoping to speak with Cassius about a few things.”
As if he’d heard his name, Cass had come through the door that led to their bedchamber. Barefoot and shirtless, Cyrus had looked him up and down. Cass’s lips had rolled to hide his smirk, but his focus was fixed on his father.
Cyrus had left them to their daddy-son bonding session and wandered down to the dining room, finding the breakfast spread ready and waiting. So here he sat. Alone with the same thoughts that had him up before the sun.
The same thoughts that had kept him from sleeping much at all last night.
Now that Scarlett had the lock, he needed to go start looking for this thing the Sorceress wanted from the Black Syndicate. He had a feeling she might be looking to collect more blood from him soon too. So many of their plans now had to be timed perfectly. This little quest was no different. If things went well, everything would fall into place. If things didn’t…
Well, they had back-up plans for their back-up plans at this point.
Footsteps sounded and his gaze flicked to the door, Tybalt and Cassius coming through a few moments later. Cyrus sat up straighter at the look on Cassius’s face. The tense jaw, lips in a thin line, a slight furrow between his brows.
There was something…not wrong, necessarily. But it was something that bothered him, and Cass was trying to hide it.
His gaze met Cyrus’s, and he moved to the seat next to him, reaching for the plate of toast. Tybalt moved to a chair at the head of the table, his demeanor the same as Cassius’s.
“What’s going on?” Cyrus finally asked as the two wordlessly filled their plates.
“Nothing,” Cassius said too quickly, scooping fried potatoes from a bowl.
Cyrus looked at Tybalt, the same warm brown eyes as Cassius had already staring back at him.
