“What’s wrong? Talk to me,elska,” he begged, the terror that gripped him by the throat not leaving. “What happened?”
All he could feel was the wild thumping of her heart against him. Riley turned from questioning the guard who’d brought her and shook his head. “Something must have occurred in my sire’s study, the guard doesn’t know what. She was alone. Let’s get her outta here.”
Sweeping Kira into his arms, Týr dematerialized them to the fortress.
Back in her chamber, Týr sat on the bed, keeping her on his lap. “You’re safe now, baby. Whatever happened, you can tell me. I’ll make it, right, I swear.”
He eased back a little. Her complexion appeared ashen beneath her usually tan skin. Reddened hazel eyes blinked at him, the color a searing green in her anguish. Her cheeks were wet with tears. He pulled off his shirt and wiped her face.
“I saw…” Her voice broke, throat moving as if she couldn’t swallow. Her eyes swam with tears again.
Frowning, he gently cupped her face. “Kira, whatever it is, it will be all right.”
“No…” She shook her head. “No, not this—”
“What happened?” In this damn place, it could be anything. And probably real fucking bad if it distressed her like this.
She grasped his wrists, holding on tight. “Images. The arena. You…” She choked. “A fight, your-your right hand missing, the demon hurting you, saying he’d been hired to make you suffer.” The words ran into each other in a flood, blindsiding him.
A whoosh sounded in his ears. His mind went blank. There was nothing but a black hole pulling him into it, except he was still sitting.
She saw that…saweverything?
“How did you—how did this happen?” he forced out the hoarse words, lowering his hands from her face. Wrath’s study? Shit. “What did you touch, Kira?”
Violent shivers wracked her form. “I don’t know—a glass orb on the window sill. I was thinking of you. And then it was all there, inside my mind…”
His teeth ground down, his soul wanting retribution—wanting to destroy the damn thing that had made Kira go through all of this. Made her witnesshispunishment.
“What else?” he rasped.
“The demons held you against a wall after you injured your opponent. He-he tore out your throat and sliced you open from here”—she touched the waist of his pants—“to here.” She stopped between his breastbones. Tears flowed again. “You died, Týr. You d-died.”
No. Unfortunately, he hadn’t. Such was his curse.
“It’s just a bad dream. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. Didn’t you say I’m strong like a mountain?” he deflected.
“Please don’t joke,” she whispered.
His mind retreated, floating in dark space, hoping this was all a nightmare. But her words called him out, and some of his still-functioning brain cells had him looking away.
“You were in Tartarus, Týr. I heard your thoughts, you longed for death, but you couldn’t die,” her voice came to him as if from a distance. “You were in so much pain…”
The rustling inside his head splintered the numbness. He found himself near the last window, and that meant he had walked the entirety of the room with no recollection of setting Kira aside and doing so.
He’d rather battle a horde of the most treacherous evil—be anywhere else but here, having to talk—than lay his soul open. And prayed the Fates had shown him mercy for once and had not revealed the rest of his sadistic incarceration to his precious mate.
“Talk to me, Týr. Even before this, I sensed this deep anger—this pain inside you.”
Breathing like he’d run up the black mountains of Stygia, he slammed his palms on the windowsill, wanting to pound the granite to dust. Instead, he shut his eyes, caught between the deep damn sea and a fucking rock. Týr realized he could no longer conceal this from her. She mattered more than anything ever had in his long and wretched life. He only hoped she still felt the same about him after.
* * *
Kira pushed to her feet and wrapped her arms around her waist. Her mind shredded at the sheer horror she’d witnessed, feeling as if a grenade had decimated inside her head and her brain had scrambled.
She felt as broken as the look in his eyes. “Týr?”
His head jerked as if her voice were a gunshot. He pivoted to her.
