“Titus, it’s me, Ryker.” My next steps don’t land on the stone floor. What’s that? Sand. My forehead furrows. Realization slaps my mouth open. That’s what Sofia pointed at. Ashes.
Titus is lying on a pile of ashes.
I jolt back, unsure where to step. But the only way to reach him is to step on those burnt bones. I freeze, caught off guard. If this were a battle, I’d be dead.
My gaze falls upon Adrian. He’s realized it, too. Sofia’s eyes meet mine as if they were helping hands. I peer back at Titus, forced to step on his dead mate to reach him. Using my wind magic, I gently try to clear a path for my feet. Crouching down, I touch his back. “Brother,”
Nothing. His eyes are red, swollen, unblinking slits as they look at something I do not see. It takes me two attempts to swallow.
“I’m going to get you out of here.” I rub his back.
He’s catatonic.
“Adrian, get the book and the sword,” I order him. We should have brought a bag, like Sofia said.
Adrian pauses as he hovers over the Vitalis. “One book has changed so many lives,” he mutters to himself.
“That’s the power of a book,” Sofia warns.
I’m scared to move Titus, worried my touch will make him crumble. “Brother, I’m here. Tristen needs you. I need you.” I run my hand through his hair. Cinders fly out; it’s smoking hot but still shining with life.
A sharp inhale has me grabbing his shoulders, trying to sit him up. The ashes under him hold his impression. He’s boneless, limp, but his eyes stay open.
For the first time in my life, I cry. Not tears of sorrow, but fury. I was too late to run through the portal to help him. I stood across the bed so I could watch Selene, but I should have stood by Titus’s side. The distance of those few feet changed his life.
I grunt, grabbing him, hugging him. I slap his back. Hard. “Titus!” I shout in his ear.
Talk to me. Fight me. Cry in my arms. Do something. Don’t be a shell.
Sofia is right. I’m empty, too. How am I going to fill you?
I use my wind to help give me a boost, deadlifting him as I stand. Crouching down, I press his stomach into my shoulder and roar my fury as I heave him over my shoulder. Adrian returns to Sofia, Vitalis in hand, the sword strapped to his back. He grabs Sofia’s wrist, removing her cuffs.
She looks past me with grief. Then she grabs the hem of her shirt and rips off a large section.
“What are you doing?” I hiss. Adrian, dagger in hand, aims at her. My wind helps keep Titus lifted. I was drained after the battle with Galen. Once Titus ran through the portal, I drank more, then I drank again before we came here. I should rest so I don’t slip into bloodlust.
Sofia ignores Adrian’s dagger. “That’s… it’s Sel… it’s… her ashes.”
Sofia takes a step, opening the ripped material in her hand. “This is not a resting place meant for a queen. This is a prison. Let me take her so Titus can spread her ashes.”
A chill hollows me. Sofia's affection towards my brother’s turmoil fills it. I dip my chin, still shocked at her attempts to heal my brother. Her eyes trace over my face as she passes me. Eyes that are like layers of the earth.
If I keep digging, I’ll discover her core, but like she said, empty men can’t fill others.
Chapter
Fifty-Four
Titus
You thought I could be a king. Now, I sit in a cell.
Mage cuffs are my crown.
My family put me in here with much reluctance. They feared I’d run. Or worse.
The burden of my eyelids is a battle I succumb to gladly as I seal them shut. Footsteps come and go. All my family has visited, except Tristen. Has it been days, weeks, centuries?
