Cyrus’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. But when she gave him a meaningful look, he realized what she meant.
We need to talk,her eyes said.
Anxiety wriggled in his stomach, but he shoved it away. This conversation needed to happen.
Prue needed to know the part he had played in Lagos’s death.
“All right.” Cyrus helped Prue to her feet. She teetered slightly, but once she found her balance, she took a few solid steps.
Wren turned and led them toward the cave on the leftside of the rock wall. With his arm laced through Prue’s, Cyrus followed, dreading the upcoming conversation—and the looming possibility of losing his wife’s trust forever.
DEBTS
EVANDER
Evander refusedto leave Mona’s side, even for a moment. He had thought that rescuing her from the Titans would fill him with relief, that this unsettlingwrongnessinside him would be cured… but it wasn’t.
His chest still roiled with uncertainty. His stomach still knotted with unease.
Nothingwas right. Not even with the woman he loved at his side.
He could tell Mona sensed his discomfort, judging by the frequent concerned looks she shot his way as they mingled among the fire witches. Mona had lots of questions, particularly about the handy elixir they had used when infiltrating the Titans’ hideout. Not to mention Mona was clearly fond of many of the witches here from her last visit. She greeted them as if they were her own sisters.
Seeing her eyes light up, her face brightening with agenuine smile, was almost enough to unravel the tension and turmoil coursing through Evander.
Almost.
He needed to tell her. He needed her to know the bargain he had struck with the Wild Spirits.
But there wasn’t a moment to tell her. There were so many witches around them, and he needed a private moment to speak with her.
It wasn’t the right time. It would have to wait.
His body was restless, itching to move, to run, tofly.But he could do nothing but stand by Mona, his hand on her back.
After another witch Mona had been speaking with walked away, Mona turned to look at him, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. “What’s wrong with you, Evander? Tell me.”
Evander closed his eyes. His head throbbed, and his blood hummed with a low pulse that seemed to chant a reminder to return to the Undead Wilds.
Go back. Go back. You must go back.
“I… I have not been myself as of late,” he said softly. This was technically not a lie.
Mona’s expression softened. “Because of Typhon?”
Evander flinched. Gods, Mona knew him too well.
She drew closer and placed her hand on his cheek. Her skin was warm and smooth, and he leaned into her touch, his eyes closing. Her scent of parchment and saltwater filled his nose, and he sighed with contentment.
In this moment, they were simply Mona and Evander. Nothing more, nothing less. He could pretend that all waswell. He could pretend that they were just two souls who had fallen in love by the river in the Underworld.
A knot formed in Evander’s throat as the pleasant vision shattered. Because hehadto tell her. She would never forgive him if he didn’t.
She might not forgive him anyway. But he had to risk it. She deserved nothing less than the truth.
He opened his eyes and found hers filled with worry and despair. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking, but her expression was so utterly devastated that he knew she was afraid for him. She was likely envisioning all manner of horrifying scenarios.
He took a deep breath, his gaze dropping so he wouldn’t have to look at her when he spoke. “I must leave for the Underworld.”
