Together, they would weather every storm. They would face every threat as one.
No matter how bleak or hopeless their situation, they would keep fighting each day.
Fighting for hope and fear. Love and death. Joy and misery.
They would fight for the chance to experience it all.
Together.
CALL
CYRUS
The atmospherein the caves was a mixture of wrath and despair. Half of the witches were thirsty for vengeance, eager to dive into battle for retribution of their fallen goddess. The others were mournful, uttering prayers and performing séances in an attempt to communicate with Lilith from beyond the veil.
Marina had shifted to her serpent form almost immediately upon arrival. Several other witches had followed suit, including the other Gorgon sister. Cyrus leaned against the cavern wall, watching the serpents glide across the ground. He got the sense that the witches were more comfortable in their snake forms, and perhaps more detached from their emotions.
He couldn’t blame them. If something ever happened to Evander…
He shook his head. He couldn’t go down that path.
Because it was very likely to come true, given Evander’s bargain with the Wild Spirits.
Once he was mortal, Evander could easily die. Cyrus wasn’t even sure if Evander would survive the transition.
A hard lump formed in his throat. Cyrus had spent much of his life putting distance between himself and his brothers, mostly to avoid conflict. Many of them had been conniving and power-hungry—much like himself—and he knew that getting close to them would only expose his weaknesses.
But the brothers he was most wary of were dead now. Only Romanos and Evander remained.
And Cyrus couldn’t stomach the thought of losing either of them.
“I’m ready,” Prue said, appearing by Cyrus’s side and jerking him from his dismal thoughts. His wife shouldered a small pack, her expression grim but determined.
Cyrus nodded. Neither of them had bothered trying to convince the other to remain behind. Cyrus knew her well enough by now. She would not hide from a fight.
And Prue understood how much blame and responsibility Cyrus felt over the situation. The Titans had sought negotiations withhim.Clearly, they wanted some hold on the Underworld.
Their attack on the Gorgons was Cyrus’s fault. He had incited this by making a mockery of them. He had pretended to negotiate as a ruse to get Prue and Mona out.
Now, the Titans were seeking retribution.
This was bigger than just his realm now. The entire Realm of Gaia was at stake. The witch clans. The mortals.Everyone on this plane of existence was in jeopardy because of his actions.
He’d made the wrong call, infiltrating the Titans’ hideout like that. Now Lagos was dead, and more would follow.
He should never have left without ensuring the Titans were all dead. He should have made a frontal assault when he’d had the chance.
“I’ve already spoken with Farah,” Cyrus said. “She and the other witches won’t be far behind.” The fire witches had taken the death of the Gorgon quite personally. It hadn’t been their fight before, but it certainly was now.
Prue’s eyes shifted to the white snake curling in on itself in the corner of the cave. Marina, even in her serpent form, hadn’t moved much. Cyrus sensed she was grieving—that even in her animal form, she couldn’t escape it.
“What about Marina and Romanos?” Prue asked softly.
“We can’t wait for them.” Cyrus’s voice was solemn. “The Titans will keep killing people until I face them.”
“I know.” Prue squeezed his hand. “I just wish we had more numbers on our side.”
Cyrus had considered traveling to the Underworld and gathering armies. But there wasn’t time for that now. Besides, how could he allow more blood to be spilled on his account?
