She shrugs. “Unless you have a better idea, that’s what I was going to do.”
“As far as I know, lions can’t open water pouches, and I’m loath to empty mine out anyway,” I say. Not to mention, there is no way I could fill an entire pouch with my blood without needing some serious recovery time.
She reluctantly hands me my dagger, and I slice into the palm of my hand, holding back a wince at the sharp burst of pain.
Rae looks at me, almost embarrassed. “I don’t know what to call him.”
I shake my head, but I get her point. She leans back over the edge, and I bite my tongue to keep from reminding her to be careful. She is a grown-ass woman, and she’s made it clear she’s done with overprotective men telling her what to do.
“Um . . . hello, again, my lord,” she calls down. “We’re going to try to drip some blood down for you if you could maybe open your mouth?”
I join her at the side of the pit and wait for the lion to open his enormous maw. Gods, I really hope this doesn’t backfire.
Holding my hand over the pit, I squeeze tightly. Blood starts to drip down out of my fist and, miraculously, the lion catches it on its tongue.
“How much do I give?” I ask Rae.
She shrugs again. “Whatever you think you reasonably can?”
I stand there another minute, letting the blood drip, when a flash of light surprises me and I step away from the pit, covering my eyes.
A gasp out of Rae has me hurrying back to her side. “What is it?”
She merely points down into the pit, where an emaciated blond male now crouches. His clothes, if you can call them that, are tattered rags hanging off him.
“My lord,” Rae whispers in reverence and drops to her knees on the rocky ground.
Damn, that’s gotta hurt.
I, too, kneel on the ground, placing my bloodied hand over my chest in a sign of respect. “Lord Kyros . . .” I whisper.
A raspy voice echoes in the cavern, sending a chill through me. “Your offering is appreciated, son of Silenius.”
Rae’s eyes widen in surprise, hope lighting them from within. She peeks over the edge again.
“Hi . . . I’m Raelyn,” she says softly . . . almost timidly.
“I know who you are, daughter,” the god replies. “Thank you for answering my call.”
Tears fill her eyes, and she holds back a sob. “I can’t believe you’re real. That all of this is real,” she says.
The god’s eyes gleam in Rae’s orb of sunlight. “I have tried reaching you for many years but was always blocked somehow,” he growls, but it’s clear his frustration is not with her.
“How do we get you out?” she cries. “What’s keeping you down there?”
“Dark magic,” the god grits out.
“Do you need more blood?” Raelyn asks.
A low chuckle comes out of Kyros that sends a rush of fear over me. There is something deeply menacing about that laugh, but Raelyn doesn’t seem to feel the same.
“I am starved, daughter. Of course I need more blood. Far more than you could give me without draining your life forces.”
As I suspected. At least he isn’t begging her to sacrifice her life for his. Gods can be fickle, and even though she is his daughter, I don’t know how paternal he’s feeling.
“Are you alone? Is Cary here? Or is he too much of a coward to show his face?” he demands.
“My fath—uh, you mean Lord Astoria?” Raelyn blanches. “What does he have to do with this?”
