“It’s over, Aion,” Theron said softly. He pushed off the wall, his hand falling from my arm. “Jason can’t touch her now.”
“I should have found another solution. It shouldn’t have come to this.”
“It’s a shield, Aion. Nothing more. Skaros knows exactly what he’s doing.” Theron stepped into my line of sight, forcing me to look at him. His amber eyes were grave, reflecting the weight of a man who understood the cost of miracles. “You did the only thing you could.”
I looked down at my hands. Death energy shifted sluggishly beneath my bronze skin. I could shatter stone and harvest the most volatile energies in the Wilds. I’d been crafted by the most skilled blacksmith in Alia Terra. Yet, standing in the silence of the emptying amphitheater, I felt no more powerful than the simplest hammer.
“I did nothing, Theron,” I whispered. “I broke my promise and surrendered her to another.”
No matter how many times I told myself it was for the right reason, one truth would never change. I’d been unable to help my mate. And now, our chance to have a real future together was permanently gone.
5
Weaveline
Medea
The frantic shouting of the bidders had finally faded into a heavy, ringing silence. I sat on a velvet-cushioned basalt bench inside a secluded sanctuary room beneath the amphitheater, staring down at my hands. Fifty thousand death crystals. A staggering fortune had just secured my survival.
I had spent my entire life locked in the damp, suffocating hold of Jason’s ship, treated as a walking plague. Whenever he dragged me onto the deck, it was to press my hands against a kneeling captive’s face. I had watched flesh rot and turn to ash, the screams echoing in my ears long after the bodies dissolved. I carried the guilt of a hundred forced executions in my bones.
Up there, on the polished obsidian stage, that same plague had incited a riot of raw desire. The monsters of Asphodelia had roared for me. They had thrown fortunes at my feet, begging for the very touch that haunted my nightmares. They wanted me to unweave them, to grant them the beautiful death their city worshiped. The sheer, overwhelming whiplash of it left my chest tight and aching.
Or maybe that wasn’t it at all. Maybe it was simply the fact that Aion hadn’t been there, among them.
At the end of the day, Asphodelia’s bride market was just that. Another bride market. A place that could secure the right monster groom for a human bride. But the man I’d wanted for myself was simply out of my reach.
The heavy iron door swung inward, jerking me from my thoughts. I braced my shoulders, expecting the sphinx or Skaros to enter. We had an agreement, but that didn’t mean I looked forward to what came next.
Instead, Daphne stepped into the dim, flickering light of the braziers. She crossed the room and sat close beside me on the bench.
Just days ago, my panicked touch had withered her hand down to the bone. But it didn’t seem to matter. She didn’t hesitate or shrink away now. “Asphodelia can be cruel to those who are different,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t be a home.”
I didn’t know the full extent of her story. Just bits and pieces of what Aion had told me. She’d stood on that stage, just like I had, but without being death-touched at all. She’d paid with her life for the un. But she had chosen to come back, for her mate’s sake. I didn’t know if I had that type of courage in me.
“Where am I supposed to go from here, Daphne? I can’t make heads or tails of what is happening.”
Daphne reached out, resting her fingers gently on the stone beside my knee. “You belong to Aion, Medea. The city sees the arrangement, naturally. But Aion isn’t going anywhere.”
I pulled my knees tight against my chest, shivering despite the ambient heat of the braziers. “Out there… the market’s hunger felt so real to me. They wanted my touch to unravel them. They begged for the end, Daphne. I have spent my whole life terrified of my own skin, and they cheered for the curse it carried.”
Daphne followed my gaze toward the heavy door. “They have lived far too long without fear. They mistake your lifelong burden for a passing thrill.” She turned her attention back to me, the dim firelight catching the silver woven through her hair. “Aion understands you. He won’t fail you. Not ever.”
“I know that,” I answered. “I just feel… I feel like I might have failed him.”
“You could never,” Daphne whispered. “You are a gift. You are his mate. Don’t ever forget that.”
I rubbed my arms, trying to ward off a sudden chill. “But what about Skaros? He just paid an empire’s ransom for a woman he cannot even touch. Why?”
“Skaros is a good man,” Daphne offered softly. “I don’t know him very well, but every time we’ve spoken, he’s been nothing but kind. He wouldn’t harm you. He is doing this for Aion. For both of you.”
I let out a breathless, watery laugh, wiping a stray tear from my cheek. “Thank you. I really needed to hear that.”
The sharp scrape of claws against stone echoed down the corridor, shattering our quiet privacy. Phix filled the arched doorway. The auctioneer was no less imposing here than she’d been on the stage. Her dark eyes were fixed entirely on me, and she reminded me of Jason a little too much for comfort.
Daphne rose smoothly from the bench. She turned back to me and gave my shoulder a firm, reassuring squeeze. She ignored the slight, immediate withering at her fingertips as her woven flesh touched me. “Remember, Medea. You have a sister here, too. No matter what.”
With one last respectful bow to Phix, Daphne slid out of the room. Just like that, Phix and I were left alone.
