Marina slowly turned to face her, her expression grim. “We lost a lot of witches. And the coven has no leader with Farah—” She broke off, her eyes tightening.
With Farah dead.
Prue’s insides twisted with grief as Marina cleared her throat. “Vivian and I will remain here while we get the coven in order. But it’s likely the witches will never recover from this tragedy.”
Prue’s heart constricted from those words.Never recover.As she watched Marina disappear in the tunnels, Prue wondered how many others wouldnever recoverfrom this.
Mona would never recover her goddess magic.
Cyrus would never recover from losing his eye.
Marina and Vivian would never recover from losing their sister.
Prue would never recover from losing Lagos.
Even though the Titans had been defeated, they hadstillmanaged to take so much from everyone.
A hoarse cough echoed behind her, and Prue stiffened. She whirled, finding Cyrus shifting in the bedroll. He groaned, cursing under his breath.
In a flash, Prue was by his side, her fingers wrapping around his arm. “I’m here, Cyrus.”
He had been in and out of consciousness for days. At times, he seemed lucid, speaking to her as if he knew she was there. But he had only been talking in his sleep.
Prue assumed this was the same, until his one eye fixed on her, and a frown creased his features.
“Prue?” His voice was cracked and dry.
Prue hastily lifted a canteen to his lips. He greedily gulped down the water, pausing to gasp as it dribbled down his chin. He coughed again, and she set the canteen down, taking his hand in hers.
“Why… why are you so…blurry?” he squinted his good eye, then tilted his head as if to use his other eye.
He froze.
Prue held perfectly still, waiting for him to acknowledge it. She recalled the last time he had woken upto find his body significantly altered. Upon realizing he was mortal, he lashed out at her, blamingherfor his situation.
He had claimed that death would have been preferable.
She braced herself for a similar outburst, holding her breath. Her resolve hardened, and she determined not to hold it against him.
He’s been through an ordeal,she reminded herself.Do not take it personally. He still loves you, even if he will claim otherwise.
Slowly, Cyrus lifted his free hand to touch the black hole where his eye had once been. When he reached it, his hand shook, and he sucked in a sharp gasp.
“I—I’ve lost my eye, haven’t I?” His voice was hollow and dejected.
Prue swallowed. “Yes. Marina says she—she is unable to repair it.”
Cyrus’s mouth pressed into a thin line, and he nodded once. “Well… damn.”
Prue blinked. She hadn’t expected that. She cleared her throat. “Are you—Does it hurt?”
Cyrus shook his head. “Only when I try to squint. It… feels like it’s still there, though. Like there’s something dark hovering in my vision, blocking things from view.”
Prue’s heart clenched with sympathy. With the loss of her ear, she felt a similar blocking sensation on that side of her head, making all sounds a bit more muffled. But Cyrus had already been through so much. Her fingers tightened around his. “I thought I’d lost you,” she said in a broken whisper.
Cyrus’s one blue eye fixed on hers, and it burned with regret. “I’m sorry for frightening you.”
Prue’s expression crumpled, her eyes filling with tears. She leaned closer to him, prepared to burrow her face in his chest, then stopped. He was still healing. What if her touching him brought him more pain?
