“It’s…” I stagger back. “It’s a crown. Find a crown!” Venna rushes to the one of a hand clenching a crown tight. And I cry out, “Not that one!”
It’s no different from the bound wrists. No, Stark would never hold me so tightly that I couldn’t breathe.
A true Daemos is still a member of his pack, subject to his Alpha, loyal to his leader even when his strength burns brighter than the rest. Stark is…
There’s another crown positioned above an open hand, palm up, fingers spread. An offering.
My fingers slip into its fire, an odd tingling sensation where it touches me heatlessly. Instantly, the walls fall silent and stop their ominous advance. There’s a brief moment of suspense, then they start to retreat to their original positions.
And with them, the door opposite the entrance yields.
All the fire dissipates, replaced by the soft red glow.
I wipe shakily at the tears on my face and rush to Cratos’s side. Stark is slumped over his back, breathing hard, arms shaking.
“Hey. Hey,” I beg, and touch his leg.
He lets himself slip from Cratos and stumbles to land on his feet. I grunt as I catch him, straining against his weight. But I don’t care. I wrap my arms around him and hold him up.
“I’m fine,” he pants. “We should move.”
“Two seconds,” I say. “We’ll call it an order, loyal Daemos.”
He huffs a weak breath, and his fingers tremble on the back of my neck.
Reluctantly, I part from him. I run my hands up along his arms to reassure myself, then I turn to the others.
“Sorry,” I say awkwardly.
Noemi grins. “It’s fine.”
“You didn’t smolder atmeafter my trial,” Venna teases, and I smack her as I walk past her to mount Anassa.
Cratos lowers himself slightly for Stark, and I hear him curse to himself when his arms don’t entirely bring him all the way up on his first attempt. Once he’s mounted, he scowls at me for watching him to make sure he’s fine. I roll my eyes at him as Anassa and I walk past.
We move together through the door. There’s yet another chamber, this one with a set of more spiraling stairs leading downward. I roll my head on my shoulders and urge Anassa farther into the depths.
After a few minutes of spinning stairs, we step down into a circular landing. This one looks more like a natural cave formation, maybe because of how deep we’ve come. The light is slightly different here.
The symbol on the door catches with golden flame. Phylax.
Noemi and her wolf creep forward slowly, but she doesn’t jump when the door starts opening for her. The chamber she reveals is vastly different from the other two.
I follow her out onto a ledge. “Ohshit,” I breathe out when I see the chamber. How is this possible?
46
MERYN
There’s a massive chasm before us. The bottom disappears into absolute darkness. Right before the stone walls slip into nothingness, I can make out a dense layer of fog. I can taste it on the air, too.
My mind briefly rejects this. Where the fuck are we? Under the sea? Who could have built this impossible place?
On the far side of the chamber is a ledge similar to the one we’re standing on. And bridging the two is a narrow, arched strip of solid stone, about wide enough for one wolf to cross at a time.
“Slowly,” Venna advises.
Noemi nods, and her direwolf edges one paw out toward the bridge. The stone bears their weight well, and another paw steps forward.
