“Tristan’s right,” Meera said when I still didn’t respond. “We can’t remain exposed. But Rhyan will know to go to the inn. He’ll look there.”
I felt sick. I finally had an idea of how Rhyan had felt when I’d done this to him the last time we fought nahashim. I’d let go of his hand, had failed to jump. But at least that time, we could still communicate. This time there was nothing. Too many unknowns.
“Come on, Lyr. Let’s get everyone inside. He’ll find you.”
Shakily, I let go of Tristan’s hand, and in silence, we all trudged back to Auriel’s Flame. Out of the park, we separated, everyone careful to keep their hoods up, their faces down.
Cal and Marisol were standing in the entrance, both holding staves, looking ready to fight despite their age.
“You’re back,” Marisol said, her eyes immediately scanning our faces. She frowned. “Rhyan?”
I was going to cry. “He’s not back yet. He um, went ahead.”
Marisol smiled. “He’ll be back, dear. Don’t fret.”
Cal’s face hardened. “We’ll be on the lookout for him. Don’t you worry.”
We all ended up back in one room. everyone taking a seat. No one was in the mood to talk, and I was grateful because I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I’d taken a spot by the window, staring out at the streets of Thene. Waiting for Rhyan toreturn. I knew I wasn’t likely to see him walking up to the inn. He’d appear suddenly. But I couldn’t help it. I kept watching, holding my breath with every soturion cloak I saw.
I was on hyper alert. Every sudden sound, every creak of the floorboard, or step or gasp made me jump. Ready to catch Rhyan when he returned. Hours passed slowly. Jules and Galen, both still injured fell in and out of sleep. And Marisol and Cal came and went with lunch and then some snacks as a pre-dinner.
Then suddenly, a sense of cold filled the room. A sharp, familiar cold. The one thing I’d spent the past two years fearing the most. The cold that came from a vorakh. From a vision.
Tristan tensed at once, his eyes alert and predatory.
I looked at Meera, anxiety drowning me, my instinct to help her, to hide her had immediately kicked in. I practically growled at Tristan before I remembered, he was one of them. He had visions, too. But it wasn’t Meera.
It was Jules.
She didn’t do what she’d done the last time. She didn’t look like she was in pain. Nor out of control. She wasn’t fighting an invisible opponent or screaming in fear. Not the way Meera often looked. Jules just closed her eyes, her body perfectly still. She seemed almost calm as she leaned her head back, her brows furrowed.
“Jules?” I asked. “Are you … are you okay?”
She twitched, her breath catching, her eyes moving rapidly back and forth behind her eyelids.
“Jules?” I asked again.
She gasped, her eyes startling open. She looked out of breath, then sat bolt upright. “He’s been captured. They have him in the Palace prisons. They’re marching him out to the Nutavian Katurium. Instead of the Valabellum, they’re going to strip him for possessing vorakh.”
“Strip him?” Dario shouted. “Actually fucking strip him!”
“No,” Aiden said. “No. No one’s been stripped here in … No.”
I had gone still. My heart stopped beating. My brain stopped thinking. I felt like everything in my body was shutting down. I was cold. Numb. Not fully there. Not breathing.
They’re going to strip him.
I couldn’t wrap my brain around it. Stripping was the worst punishment that could be doled out to a Lumerian. So vile because they were so rare on land. I’d only ever heard of them happening in Lethea. To vorakh.
But Rhyan was vorakh. And the games were canceled. And knowledge of the chayatim’s existence had been exposed. Emperor Avery had only been on the throne a day, and he needed to prove his worth. Prove his power. Prove to Imperator Hart that he had won. That his secrets would not be exposed.
I looked around the room half-expecting to see Rhyan again because he had to be here, he had to have escaped. He did have vorakh and he was strong, so strong. The strongest soturion in the Empire. A God reborn.
But he was gone. He’d been captured, and he was going to be … going to be …
My thoughts felt distant, like they were coming from someone else, some other mind, someone more coherent, someone still in the room. Because I wasn’t. I wasn’t here. If Rhyan wasn’t here, then neither was I. Because there’s no way I was hearing what I just had.
There was no way that Rhyan had just sacrificed himself to save us. To save me. Because the world couldn’t be that cruel. Because Rhyan couldn’t have that fate. Because he deserved better. He deserved the world. Because we were going to have more. We were going to be married.
