I motion toward Marik. “We have no idea what has happened to him, and we would love a healer’s perspective.”
Brynn begins her silent assessment, hands hovering over every extremity, lips pursed in concentration. Her hand passes over his chest and her eyes widen for a flash, but she schools her features quickly.
Elle leans forward. “What is it?”
Brynn shakes her head. “Nothing.” Elle shoots her a glare and Brynn adds, “There is a connection.” She looks nervously to me. The mating bond.
Fuck. I didn’t think about this. “We are aware. Please, Brynn, this stays between us.”
She nods in agreement and continues her assessment. After another minute, she removes her hands and straightens. She clasps them in front of her as she addresses me. “He is alive, but he is…elsewhere. His body is here, but his soul is not.”
My stomach hollows. “What does that mean?” The soul is always connected to the body. When the body dies, so does the soul. Both sink back into the earth and begin the journey to the heavens. Until weeks ago, I never even considered the possibility that a soul could journey downward, to the hells. There is so much I don’t know.
She shakes her head. “I don’t know, Your Highness. I’ve never dealt in matters such as this. I’m sorry, but I’m not sure what I can do to help.”
“Thank you, Brynn,” Asmo says curtly behind me.
She gives us a final bow before skittering past us and shutting the door softly behind her.
“What does that even mean?” I groan.
Elle’s head is back in her hands, her nails digging into pale skin.
Asmo paces the space of the room, jaw working. His hands clenchinto fists before he shoves them into his pockets. “I don’t know. But I think I have an idea for how to find out.”
“Wh—”
Another knock on the door before it clicks open. “Your Highness,” Ivan’s voice comes. “The witch is requesting an audience.”
I cock my head. “The witch? Are they not all in the dungeons?”
“The lead witch. Levana.”
Ah. The witch ally.
“Tell her we will meet with her at sundown. In fact, we will meet with all of you at sundown. My mate needs rest,” Asmo says firmly. Before I can protest, he ushers everyone from the room.
With everyone gone, I feel like I can breathe. I sink onto the couch and rest my face in my hands as I fill my lungs. The couch shifts below me, and a hand rubs my back. I lean into Asmo and feel my eyes drift shut.
“Come on,” he says, scooping me into his arms. He leads me to the spare bedroom and rests me on the plush bed. I begin to argue, to tell him we have things to do, people to rescue, plans to make. But it dies on my lips as I sink into the soft give of the pillows.
Asmo places a kiss on my forehead. “Sleep, princess.” He shuts the door behind him. I close my eyes, the calm of sleep settling over me swiftly.
I shift to get more comfortable, and the grit of dirt on the sheets sends a flush of irritation through me instead. There is an ungodly amount of grime and dirt and sweat and blood crusted on every part of my body.
With a groan, I haul myself from bed and exit the bedroom. “I’m gonna take a shower, if you want to join,” I call, but it goes unanswered. “Az?”
No response.
The wing is empty. No sign of Asmo anywhere.
I open the door that leads to the rest of the castle. A small group of guards—Fae and hybrid—turn to me.
“Where did Asmo go?” I ask.
A squirrel hybrid tilts his head. “He hasn’t left, Your Highness.”
I freeze. Maybe I missed him in the wing? I thank the guards andturn back inside, calling for Asmo and searching everywhere, but he’s gone. The wards make it impossible to funnel out of here. But he escaped the dungeons, so there must be a way.
