“Do it,” he ordered her. The words burned like acid on his tongue.
Her brow furrowed, studying him with hesitation, the way someone gauged the insane. “My lord, are you certain? We can figure out another way.”
He’d never seen herhesitate,much less dispute over the idea of torturing someone.
Cassian refused to think too hard about what he was commanding her to do. The moment he did, something vital in him would collapse and he couldn’t fall apart. He couldn’t. Not yet.
“Do it,” he repeated, irritation wringing his insides.
Shivani placed a hand over her forehead, distressed. “The young god is resilient, my lord. To do what you are asking, I will have to?—”
“I know what you will have to do!” Cassian snarled, his entire body going rigid.
She flinched, taking a step away from him.
In all the years they’d known one another, he’d never lost his temper on her.
Regret burrowed in the hollow remains of his chest.
I don’t know what to do.
No longer able to stand the look of her wary body language, he turned away, raising his arms and gripping the sides of his head.
I need you. I need you, Finny.
“I apologize, Shivani.” Tears burned his eyes. “You must do this. I do not wish to curse him—” His voice quavered at the thought.
It was what he would do if Finnian were anyone else; what Ruelle had been waiting for him to do.
Shivani crouched beside him and wrapped her arms around his neck, the stench of copper filling his nose. “I will do what I can to get the information out of him, my lord. You have my word.”
Finnian’s wailsechoed throughout the mountain and shuddered across the soft fields of lavender.
Cassian sat on the edge of his bed, hands pinned over his ears, rocking steadily back and forth.
As the ruler of the Land, he was connected to the terrain, and because of this, the cries played relentlessly, like a banshee caged in his ears. He’d grown accustomed to them. It was like a switch he learned to activate when needed. Only now, it was impossible to turn it off.
After giving Shivani the order, he confined himself to the walls of his chamber. No matter what, he had to resist doing something irrevocably stupid—like teleporting to Moros and interfering, or worse, unshackling Finnian and setting him free.
Another excruciating cry mauled at Cassian’s ears.
He ripped up from his bed, his muscles straining. His divine power flared in his veins, chipping away at his self-control.
You cannot interfere.
He dug his hands into his hair, staring down at the onyx-crystal floor. The shape of his feet blurred. He blinked away the moisture collecting in his eyes as images of Finnian, bloody and writhing in agony, assaulted his mind.
Finnian’s gut-wrenching scream reverberated through him again and again, tattering his heart.
I can’t do this.
He stormed for the door, gripped the handle—and froze.
A curse would be worse.
You must not let it get to that point.
Cassian teleported, forgetting to put his suit jacket back on.
