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Cassius nodded once more before leaving her alone with Sorin. He stood, reaching for her hands. “Come, Love.”
“I am going to bathe real quick,” she said, letting him pull her to her feet. “Can you get me some food?”
“Of course.”
When she was settled in the bath—the water on the cooler side because she was still so godsdamnhot—Sorin left her alone to find her something to eat. She tipped her head back against the lip of the tub. With a thought, her map of starfire appeared, hovering above her. She reached up and slid an ember down to a new position.
Another piece moved into place in this dangerous game.
Chapter12
Cyrus
“The spell is not working, Gehenna,” Alaric seethed.
“Impossible,” she replied coldly, her fingers wrapped around the bars of her cell.
“It is not working,” Alaric repeated, stepping closer to her. He lifted a hand. What could he do? His draining power wouldn’t work on her. There was nothing to drain. Unless he was planning to reach through the bars and wrap his hand around her throat, in which case Cyrus couldn’t blame him.
Eyes fixed on his loosely clasped hands, he kept his gaze down. He sat in the same corner he’d been sitting in for hours, knees bent, arms resting atop them. He hadn’t moved since he’d made the bargain with the Sorceress.
He’d heard the footsteps on the stairs, and he’d assumed it was someone delivering food again. He hadn’t touched the last two trays they’d brought him. But then he’d heard two sets of footsteps. Alaric hadn’t bothered to look at him when he’d entered the space, but Briar did. Briar’s icy blue eyes had connected with his, and Cyrus had immediately looked away at the look that had crossed the prince’s features.
Pity.
Pity he did not deserve. Not after what he’d done to keep the memories of Cassius out of her hands.
“You said it would lead me to the lock,” Alaric was saying, his tone tight with barely leashed control.
“I said the lock would call to you,” the Sorceress retorted, pushing off the bars and beginning to pace.
“You tricked me,” Alaric spat.
“No, Prince of Failure,” she chided. “We made a bargain. I fulfilled my end.”
“Gehenna,” he snarled, slamming an open palm against the bars.
“You brought the Fae of Water instead of the Princess of Wind,” she said, ignoring Alaric’s outburst. “She could have found your lock.”
“I ran out of time.”
“A pattern in your existence as of late,” Gehenna said with a laugh. The same laugh she sometimes had when she’d let him out of his nightmares. “You had another way. You should not need the lock.”
Alaric cursed, slamming a palm against the bars again. “That wretched girl destroyed it when she burned down my Fellowship. I have not needed the lock until now.”
“That girl has ruined many plans,” the Sorceress said darkly. “Not only yours.”
“Cyrus.”
His murmured name startled him. He hadn’t heard it since he’d been down here. How long had it been now?
He glanced up to find Briar standing over him, concern filling his eyes.
“Ashtine is safe?” Cyrus rasped.
Briar nodded slowly.
“Good,” he replied. “That’s…good.”
