“I thought the connection had to do with being Champions,” I said.
Hart took my hand in his. The heat between us was more potent than ever.
She shook her head. “Your connection was unique because you were poised to be opponents in our game, but it was always yours.”
Hart’s piercing green gaze darted between the goddess and me.
“You didn’t disappoint, Ember. You certainly challenged what was known.” With a final wink in my direction, Eris, too, disappeared.
43
I hope you choose love, Ember. For so many reasons.
— ALARIC SARE’S PAPERS FOR EMBERLINE ARKOVA
“Did you two take care of everything?” Alysa’s voice was groggy as she stood on wobbly legs. She searched the throne room. Even though she’d been behind Charon and me when the flame erupted, the heat must have been intense. Sweat rimmed the neck of her tunic. Not only that, but withstanding the magic unleashed in this room as we finished the trials would have made anyone unsteady.
Pools of blood surrounded the bodies of Vaddon and Rodric. With a look I knew all too well, Alysa’s gaze attempted to avoid the bodies of the Storm. She was unsuccessful. Tears rimmed her eyes as she spoke. “We paid such a high cost.Was it worth it?”
I didn’t know how to respond, nor did I have a chance to, as Elias got to his feet. “Glad you made it, Sebastien.”
Hart squeezed my hand, and before he dropped it, I clung tighter to him. “We do this together. We’re stronger together.” If we had learned anything from this whole ordeal, that would be my takeaway. That would be how we ruled, because it would be both of us who ruled now that the goddesses held no sway in Kavios.
A bubble of joy burst on my tongue. It mixed with the minty taste of his sadness. I understood the sentiment. We might have achieved our goals, but so much remained to be done.
Like dealing with Elias.
Did we even know what Elias’s intentions were in all of this? Emotions churned within Hart. Anger, sadness, confusion, fear. He didn’t know what to think of Elias’s actions. The prince had given us everything we needed to understand Rodric’s aims. He’d given us the time and place he planned to replace Hart as Themis’s Champion, but it appeared that his own goal throughout was to claim the title for himself.
“You knew,” Hart hissed as he strode toward Elias. “You knew they needed me to witness the ritual. You needed my blood.”
Elias shrugged. “It meant they couldn’t try to kill you until it was complete. Though I guess Themis changed that a bit.”
Hart’s fist met the side of his brother’s face. “You called her here! We all saw you offer Father as a sacrifice, you smug bastard. Not that I cared particularly for his well-being, but you planned to do the same thing he did.”
The prince worked his jaw and winced. “So what?” He was still all nonchalance. “It didn’t work, and when you needed me, I was there.”
His adamas gem, with stored lust, had healed me. How was it that I owed my life to this weasel? It was one thing when I’d known he wore a mask for the city. When I’d known he performed, it set its own expectation. But what truly lay underneath?
Hart’s confusion was easy to understand. It killed me that his own brother didn’t know what to make of his actions.
“It’s the only reason I haven’t killed you yet.”
I knew Hart carried guilt over leaving Elias behind with their father—over casting a shadow so long that Elias could do nothing but fall into it. Yet, in my mind, none of the choices Elias had made seemed to stem from Hart’s sins.
Further discussion was cut short as a wave of people rushed through the double doors. The Feared. Charon craned his neck to evaluate them. He nodded his assent, and a few entered. They must have been those he fought with at the entrance to Glanmore Castle.
“Alysa—” Reid was the first one through, and even Charon’s steady gaze didn’t slow him down. He sprinted past the dragon and didn’t stop until his arms wrapped around Alysa, and he lifted her from the ground.
From her tone, I could tell she whispered chastisements, most likely along the lines that she was fine, but then her head fell to his shoulder, and her arms returned his grip, clinging to the folds of his shirt as if to tell herself that he was real—he was here.
I gripped Hart’s hand more tightly.
Reid surveyed the fallen Storm around his wife, and his grip intensified. The knuckles of his fingers turned white with the ferocity.
The second wave of entrants to walk past Charon were a mix of the Storm and the Feared. Nicholas strode toward Hart. “We have secured the castle. Any Blessed still alive, well, they’re no longer Blessed. They surrendered their adamas.”
Relief swelled through my chest. With all that had occurred in the throne room, it was difficult to imagine the scale of violence and magic that had warred at the castle entrance. Those arriving now looked tired. Their faces were bloodied and bruised, and the haunted looks in their eyes said they’d each suffered loss. But they’d done it—they’d taken the castle from the Blessed.
