“She didn’t know,” Warren replied. “She was distraught. I thought it best to give her time to calm down before telling her.”
My eyes narrowed to slits.
“And when were you going to tell her, Warren? Before or after the Fellowship came to drag you away to await your judgement before the Tribunal?” I spat through gritted teeth. “Do you have any idea what might have happened to you if I hadn’t been able to get House Viper and House Avus to agree not to pursue punishment for you? What might have happened to Dahlia? Maurice? Even mother? What might have happened to me, Warren? I’m practically living in their house. My position there is precarious, and now I’ve used what little favor I had to defend my foolish brother from his own actions.”
“She needed me, Adrian.” Warren stepped forward so his face was a mere foot away from mine. The anger between us hung,simmering, in the air around us. “And I was there. I can’t say the same for you.”
“You dare say that to me,” I shouted. “You dare accuse me of not being there for my friends and family while you stand in a warm, well-lit house that I provided for you?”
“Which of course you don’t fail to remind us of whenever the situation presents itself!” Warren screamed back.
“Children,” my mother snapped but neither of us paid her any mind.
“You have no idea what I had to agree to in order to keep them from knocking down your door this evening,” I seethed. Tears came unbidden to my eyes, flowing hot and frustrated down my cheeks. “You have no idea what I had to offer him, what I had to sacrifice for your safety, for all of your safety.”
Warren’s fury dissipated somewhat. It wasn’t often that I cried in front of them, any of them.
“What?” he asked, his voice softer, concerned. “What did you agree to, Adrian?”
I shook my head, blinking to clear the tears away and sniffling, mortified.
“I don’t need this.” I turned and stormed toward the door. “I have training to do.”
“Of course you do,” Warren scoffed, his anger returning. He threw his arms in the air. “There’s always training to do now that you’re the savior of Sanctuary, right, Adrian? Now that you’re one of them?”
I froze in the threshold.
“Warren,” my mother hissed but it was too late.
When I turned back to face my brother, it was with a hatred so deep and an anger so dark, I nearly feared myself. “Don’t ever ask me for anything again.”
I spun on my heels and swept down the hall.
My mother called out for me from the living room, but I ignored her. I wrenched open the front door and stepped out into the cool night in hopes that it would soothe my rising fury.
Where are you?I sent along the bond.
In my room,his reply was lazy but immediate.
I bit my lip, thinking about my own dark room in the House Viper estate, as a tear streaked down my face. I wiped it away.
Can I join?I asked.
I’ll keep the bed warm for you.
***
A month later, Dante and I were training harder than ever.
Milo had written to Myrine. He’d discovered a passage in some ancient text which seemed to indicate that the sixth Trial had something to do with speed. Since then, Dante and I hit the track surrounding the Mitte two to three times a day, running until our feet ached and our legs burned.
We hadn’t spoken once of the deal we’d made with the devil in the form of his grandfather. If Dante and Cosmo had had further conversations regarding the free and unwanted use of my reproductive system, my partner hadn’t made it known to me, but I was sure, without asking, that he was doing everything in his power to circumvent that arrangement.
Though Cosmo had held up his end of the bargain, I’d greeted the news that the tribunal had officially called off any pursuit of punishment for my brother with a tired nod. And I hadn’t visited them once since. Nor did they visit me. I remained in the First Ring, not even descending to the Third to visit my own apartment.
Dante and I trained every moment of every day and sometimes into the night. It wasn’t uncommon for Myrine to wake us upand make us run laps around the estate in our pajamas. Though she rarely found us in our own rooms.
I fell asleep, more often than not, with repetitions of ancient prayers on my lips, hoping that they might come in handy in some Trial if I memorized enough of them.
