The cryptic statement sent a cold draft across my wings. I clenched my fists so hard my talons dug into my palms. “It is the only way a mortal can remain in Asphodelia.”
“Her desire was not to remain,” Charon corrected me. “She wished to be unburdened.”
As much as I wanted to argue with him, there was only one truth about Charon’s existence that I’d always known for a fact. He didn’t lie. That didn’t mean his words made sense. “Unburdened? What are you talking about? She is a bride. She is staying.”
“Her offering is relinquished.” Charon finally turned his eyes on me, the stern lines of his face sharper than ever before. “She didn’t come to Asphodelia to be your bride, Keres. She came for herself, and her purpose in this city is fulfilled. She is leaving.”
Aion took a half-step forward, the caution in his tone a familiar echo of a painful memory. “Father… this was not a simple memory trade, was it? The last time a ritual of this magnitude was performed…”
His unfinished question turned the final key in my mind. All of a sudden, I could feel the tearing fierceness of the Cerberus’s claws in my wing. My skin itched with phantom pain. It was the memory of the near-erasure my sisters and I had suffered during Theron’s rampage. But I wasn’t afraid for myself.
The Cerberus’s power had been unleashed by Charon’s reckless trade. And now, he had performed that same careless magic on Daphne. A cold fury settled in my gut, a knot of ice more dangerous than any hellfire. How dare he put her at risk, after his last abysmal failure?
“You took some kind of gift, didn’t you?” I snarled, barely managing to contain an angry screech. “Just as you attempted with the Cerberus.”
“I only took what she didn’t desire,” Charon shot back, completely dismissing my anger. “What she discarded, the lake accepted.”
The lake. Everything was always about the lake with Charon. I had no power to counter that. My only weapon was the one Daphne had provided.
“A trade requires a price,” I said between gritted teeth. “If you took such a gift from her, you owe her.”
“She asked for nothing in return,” Charon replied, his infuriating steadiness unmarred by my paltry attempts to shatter it. “She wishes only to leave.”
The iron chain of our tentative bond suddenly felt terrifyingly fragile. Soul bond recognition meant nothing if she left before I could claim her.
No. I wouldn’t allow anything or anyone to stand between me and my soul-bonded. I’d sooner renege on Thanatos than give her up.
I took a single, deliberate step forward and bared my teeth at Charon. “She is not leaving.”
We Keres rarely displayed such clear aggression toward our fellow woven, but I didn’t care about tradition right now. If anything, I wanted Charon to acknowledge that I was serious. And he did.
“The trade is concluded,” he said, his posture becoming rigid as he faced my threat. “That is the law.”
“I don’t care for your trade,” I growled, wanting nothing more than to tear his throat out with my teeth. “Right now, I don’t care much about the law, either.”
It was practically blasphemy to say such a thing, and a few hours ago, I’d have never dared. But I wasn’t Phonos of House Keres now. I was Phonos, Daphne’s soul-bonded. And I didn’t fear Charon, or any law in Asphodelia.
“Phonos, stop.” Aion quickly moved between me and his father, placing a hand on my chest. “This will solve nothing. Think of her, if not of the Moirae’s rules.”
I looked past him, my gaze locking onto Daphne. Aion was right. Daphne’s eyes were wide with fear, not of me, but of the violence about to erupt. The sight disarmed me in a way Charon never could.
I forced the aggression down my throat, folding my wings so harshly it hurt. Taking a step back, I turned my full attention to her.
In the end, she was the one that mattered. Not Charon’s stubbornness, not Aion’s logic, not even the law. Just her, and her choices.
“If Charon is right, you’re free to go, Daphne,” I told her. “We’d never keep you here against your will. But I beg you to reconsider. You have paid a great price to be here. Join our bride market. Decide for yourself if this is a place you could belong.”
She met my gaze, and in her eyes, I saw a flicker of something beyond her exhaustion. It was a terrified curiosity, and maybe a hope that echoed the desire in my heart. “I… I’m not sure what I want,” she whispered, the words so low and fragile I could barely hear them. “I never thought a bride market was a possibility for me… Not with my gift. But now…”
Her hesitation was the only opening I needed. “Then stay,” I insisted. “At least for a time. There’s no harm in seeing what your sacrifice has earned you.”
A frustrated sigh escaped Charon’s lips, the first sign of emotion he had shown. “She cannot stay here. This is a place of passage.”
We were at a stalemate. This kind of arrangement simply wasn’t done. Brides completed their trade and went directly to the market. Sometimes, Iaso granted them a stay in a healing wing if they were injured, but that didn’t apply to Daphne’s situation. She was tired after Charon’s ritual, but seemed otherwise unharmed.
Unexpectedly, Aion provided a solution. “She can stay with me. My quarters are within my father’s own. She will be safe there and have time to make her decision.”
The thought of her seeking safety from anyone but me was a sharp, physical agony. It felt like giving her away to another, renouncing my claim before I could even properly make it.
