Malia’s scream is a deep, guttural sound that hits the cocoon formed by Roman’s rune and bounces back on us.
Roman has protected us for now, and I don’t try to silence her because she deserves her grief, but I step forward and wrap my arms around her. Well, one around her and one around Taniya.
I hold them both, giving them every ounce of my love, hoping that it might fill some of the cracks in their hearts and their energies. My wolves press in around us, their warm bodies soothing: Blitz pressed to Taniya’s side, Luca to Malia’s, Ace behind my sisters, and Temple behind me, all of us as close as we can be in the circumstances.
While my sisters sob in my arms, I look up between them and give Roman a quick nod. He needs to get on with it or we’ll all be in danger again.
His power is like a caress, two runes that appear as a lattice floating down over my sisters’ heads and settling onto their skin—their cheeks, necks, the visible parts of their arms—before disappearing into their bodies. Since I’m still holding on to my sisters like our lives depend on it, I feel the power in the runes. It’s strong, leaving a tingle across my own shoulders, and the scent of the desert air on my tongue. A hint of the creosote bush’s rainy scent—just like the scent of the eagle’s territory back in Vegas—takes me back to warm moments spent with the eagles. Taniya’s chest fills as she inhales deeply and her breathing finally eases, her harpy’s energy calming. Malia is slower to calm, but her cries finally turn into soft sobs, then her breathing becomes quiet again.
I meet Roman’s eyes, grateful that he gave the runes the scent of our Vegas home.
“These runes will act as a shroud across their energies, so their presence here won’t upset the Balance,” Roman murmurs quietly. “The shroud mimics a demon’s energy, although I didn’t expect your sisters to accept the runes so easily.”
“It has to be because of our blood oath as sisters,” I murmur, still holding them. “They have the smallest measure of my demon blood in them.”
When I pull away, Malia and Taniya look back at me, their faces streaked with tears, masks of grief, even though they’re calm now.
“I’m so sorry to take you away from the life you thought you had,” I say, my voice choking up.
I don’t know how to make up for the loss they’re feeling, so in the end, I shake my head and press a hand to my aching chest. “I have a lot to tell you, but we need to get somewhere safe now. Even with the masking rune, I have to hide you away. Crone can’t know that you’re out of the prison.”
I raise my eyes to Roman again, hopeful that he’ll have a solution because I hadn’t thought past this moment and I don’t know a safe place in the city. I certainly can’t take them to the Citadel.
“My place,” he immediately says.
My heart leaps to think he could mean the cabin, but then my hopes fall because there’s no way we could get there and back in time for the final fight.
“The home the King gave me here in the city,” Roman clarifies.
I desperately wish we could head back into the Wilds and escape this bullshit, even for a few hours. But I can’t trust that Crone won’t try something underhanded—like pulling the time of the final fight forward. My father warned me to run, but I’m in too deep, and if I choose not to take part in a trial, the royal rune will kill me. Maybe Jareth knows a way for me to avoid that, but there wasn’t time for him to tell me.
I don’t see any other choice now but to finish the Elimination.
Malia and Taniya walk silently beside me while Roman leads us on foot through the city. My sisters lean on me, their bodies frail, and I don’t hurry them. Roman’s emerald rune continues to swirl around them, clinging tightly to their bodies, and every few minutes, he replenishes it, telling me that anyone who looks our way will only see him, me, and my wolves.
His home in the city is a non-descript building that looks like the structures on either side of it. It’s situated in an undecorated street with plain alleys between the buildings and none of the grand statues like the ones closer to the Cathedral. It’s so unassuming that I don’t take any notice of it until Roman stops in front of it.
“Jareth asked that I live among the people—but that they don’t know where I live. It’s a tactic,” Roman explains quietly. “It means that I could be anywhere at any time, ready to end anyone who speaks ill of the King. Only Tyrus knows about this place. You’ll be safe here.”
I’m not so sure. The back of my neck is already prickling. I dulled my demon sight when we left the prison because it was draining my energy, but now it bursts forward again.
“Roman.” My warning growl sounds a second before figures move in the shadows at the side of the building.
Tyrus steps into the dim light, two soldiers with him, all of them holding their spears ready. Tyrus’s eyes are pure black, a sheen of sweat across his bare arms and his brow, as though he’d hurried here.
“I’ve learned to read your power, Lord Rune,” he says to Roman. “I’ve watched you use it hundreds of times. You may mislead every other demon, including Crone, but not me. I know you’re hiding something within a rune right now, and I believe it’s Nova’s sisters.”
Tyrus’s gaze rakes over the space between me and Roman, where the emerald rune is masking my sisters’ presence.
Earlier tonight, I thought I was finally making headway with this soldier. He and his men acted on my command at the afterparty, keeping the elites away from me, but now…
“You’re harboring fugitives,” Tyrus says. “It’s my duty to take them to Crone.”
CHAPTERFORTY-FIVE
My claws snap down. Dark swirls of nightmare power skim across the air in front of me as I stride toward Tyrus. Temple and Ace surge forward with me, their eyes glowing a deep purple and their tails flicking back and forth, a sure sign they’re preparing to attack.
Before I can close the gap, Tyrus surprises me by taking a knee, his head bowed. “But it’s my ultimate duty to serve Pyra-Mortem, not the wishes of Crone, who wants to destroy our world in her quest for power.”
