A loud sound boomed through the library as Jett clapped his hands together, grinning wickedly, enthused about the prospect. “Let’s get this wyrm battle tattooed on our bodies!”
I pursed my mouth. There was something my younger brother hadn’t quite clicked on to. Right as I parted my lips to inform him, it was Kenton who answered once again on my behalf. “Jett, we can’t ink the tale of us taking down a wyrm on our skin. It’s Ukkenskrit, the old language.”
“So?”
“The Horned Gods can read the language. We’ll have to tell it a different way.”
“Capturing a tiny little bird…” I murmured, regret threading through the words as I sipped on whiskey, the smoky flavor rolling over my tongue.
Jett’s dark brows slashed upward as his mouth turned down. “Really?” His expression was so downright miserable it was laughable.
Ferne rose, collecting her phone, her fingers searching for her tote to drag it across the table. “Kenton’s right. We can’t outright mention a wyrm. I guessyou’dat least know what the tale was referring to.”
Jett threw up an arm as he stalked past. “Taking down a bird, for fuck’s sake. I’m not writing that shit on my body permanently.” Scooping up Flossie, he slumped into the armchair.
Penn stood, pushed her chair neatly behind the table, and then fussed with her shirt’s cuffed sleeves, rearranging the errant locks of hair over a shoulder. “Goodnight,” she said softly, to which we all replied in our various ways.
My older brother’s gaze lingered on her all the way to the door until she disappeared from the library and his sight.
Caidan stretched his spine before rising from his seat. “Let’s get this done. We need to get up early tomorrow.”
My brothers were going to shadow the mortal shipment the Troelsens had hunted and were headed to the Emporium. Snacks, as Nelle rightly said. A select few sensualothersthat would give you the most mind-blowing orgasm you’d ever experienced. The rest would be the buffet to feed the Horned Gods that frequented the bordello.
Zielenski ruled the Emporium, while his family oversaw the mortal brothels for our empire. He was a year older than me and had a ruthless, cold soul. You had to be, if you reigned over that sinister underrealm. Over the years we’d fought often in the pit beneath Ascendria. He was the only one who ever stepped forward to face me. Sometimes, as we slammed our fists into each other, splitting skin and spitting blood, I wondered if he just wanted to feel pain. To feel anything at all.
“You coming?” Caidan asked me as he started out after Ferne and Kenton, who were leaving the library.
“I’ll be there soon,” I replied. There was something I needed to talk to my youngest brother about.
But first, I had to check in with Mela. I slid my phone out of the pocket of my sweatpants and typed a message.
Me: We still on for tomorrow?
Half a minute later, my phone pinged with an incoming message.
Mela: Yes. Petra picked up a relatively fresh trail today. We’ll be at the catacombs first thing.
Petra was the Vaduvas’ prized hunter and the right hand to Mela’s mother, who ruled their House as Head. She was also one of the few people my father respected.
Me: See you there. Thanks, Mela.
Mela: It’s going to be okay, we’ll catch this Yezekael for Master Sirro.
I had no idea what Sirro wanted with the creature. Everything surrounding the Horned God was a mystery.
However, a thought crept into my mind of how we could save Elyse Estlore.
I quickly typed out a message.
Me: Has our lead agreed to get you into the Pellans’ Laboratory?
The three dots flashed in and out of the screen, and it was a good minute before my friend replied.
Mela: He’s unwilling to help.
Me: Have a word with Evelene Wychthorn.
Mela: You think?
