The stack had to have had over fifty books. How was that not all of them?
And how the hell did my brother get this list in the first place?
My first thought was that he’d somehow gotten records from Phoenix. But my brother vehemently refused to do his year of training there.
“What kind of list?” Hawk asked from the other end of the table. “How is it important?”
“You should know,” Orion stated, staring at the other male. “Your name is on it.”
Hawk glanced at the books in confusion, but Ivy said, “He has no memory. They were wiped when we were in the compound.”
“Speaking of which,” Rowan said, leaning forward, eyes narrowed. “Did you know about the secret underground prison Dante had at the edge of Luna, right near the old High Palace?”
Orion frowned, looking from Hawk to Rowan with darkening eyes. “No,” he replied slowly. “To my knowledge, there was nothing of the sort.”
“But you knew your father was working with Dantesomewhere,” I said, crossing my arms as I sat back.
The Fae prince pressed his lips together. “Obviously. But not where. I knew it had to be Luna, but I was never taken there. My father sent me on missions with soldiers, but he was my handler in those scenarios. If I ever went to this compound, it was wiped from my memory.”
“I believe him,” Ivy said, voice firm. “He never indicated he’d been anywhere near the compound before, either. And Dante would have mentioned it.”
Orion’s jaw ticked as he sat back, still clutching Ivy’s hand, but he said nothing else. Even Rowan somehow kept his mouth shut despite the warning looks Ivy sent him and the others.
I didn’t need the bond to tell me she was stressed and feeling the pressure of our inability to get along. The group dynamic had shifted entirely, though now I had the feeling this was it.
This was the final formation.
And I had no idea what to do with it.
Ivy was our centre, the one that bound us all. Without her, we’d have nothing to do with each other—I would know most of them, but I wouldn’t have chosen to be friends or allies with half of them, except for Rowan. But now, they were my bond mates. We shared one single common goal: protecting our mate.
And we couldn’t do that when we were constantly at odds with one another.
“Perhaps we should compile these names and cross reference them with the prisoners,” Rhadamanthus suggested, holding up another text. “There are two names in this one.”
“They were twins, telekinetically linked shifter males,” Orion said without looking at the book. “My father mentioned how useful they would be on missions. Especially more complex ones.”
I hesitated for a moment before asking, “Do you know why Dante was searching for creatures with unique abilities?”
“So he could replicate them,” Hawk said, looking at the bear shifter. “Apparently, that was talked about a lot around the shifters.”
“Which sounds like the experiments he was running,” Elias grumbled, crossing his arms. “I guess the question is: how many of these creatures did he actually recruit?”
There was no answer to that. I wanted to saynone, hoped he never had a chance to convince any of joining him. But there were dozens of creatures in the dungeons of the Elysian palace that said otherwise.
The night passed by catching Orion up on what he missed, filling in the gaps and introducing him properly to the bear shifter, explaining his strange ability, and telling him what we knew about Dante. Like his stronghold at the palace in Avalon, how close we were to the eclipse.
Maybe for the first time in days, there was no fighting between us. Orion asked measured questions about our progress, our understanding of Dante’s ranks, who stood amongst his High Council and the power they held.
That was still something we knew little about. Not even Thor could answer those questions, despite the information he’d already provided us. The male might have been quiet, but he’d been observant in a way that helped us.
The army was already fractured—fragile. Ivy’s escape and those who’d been undercover within had caused serious damage, though Thor believed it could have created more of a divide than anyone realised.
But whether that divide actually helped us, we weren’t sure.
Maeve could plan small missions, attacks. Elias could lead them. Rowan and I could strategize. But this was war. Even I had to admit I felt way out of my depths with this.
But every glance at Ivy made the uncertainty clearer, settling me. She trusted us—me—to help her win this. And we would.
