He pressed a kiss to Xenia’s soft, warm lips. The hint of vitality in them lifted his despair ever so slightly.
“As soon as she wakes up, I’m making her my wife.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
There were very few things in Cassandra’s life—only one really—that could distract her from the heartache of Xenia’s terrifying condition.
And that one thing currently stood atop a small platform in front of Lebaedia’s clocktower, resplendent in his new uniform.
Cassandra hoped she looked as good in hers as Tristan did in his. While Tristan’s leather armor was matte black, Cassandra’s was a stunning opalescent white that shimmered in the fading sunlight. It not only cradled her curves, but also showed off her hard-won Fae muscle tone. She loved it. Felt sexy, powerful, and absolutely unstoppable.
Embroidered onto both of their chest plates—hers in white thread and his in black—was a sigil designed by Trophonios. The continuous, curved strip doubled back on itself and was bisected by a vertical line in a nod to the movement’s original Teles symbol. It represented the connection between the four species and sub-species plus the four elemental magics gifted by the Goddess. Cassandra thought it resembled an infinity symbol.
Or a sideways eight.
Her feathers had prickled when she’d first seen it. She’d told both Tristan and Trophonios about what Reena had said in theHalfway. Something abouteight paths coalescing. Trophonios had brought up the prophecy, the only other reference to eight that he recalled. His researchers were looking into it, but he didn’t anticipate an answer until after the rebels’ march on Delos.
Which was the topic of this evening’s gathering.
Thousands of rebels blanketed the village and surrounding jungle, anticipating a rousing speech from their future Emperor.
Tristan regarded them with a broad, dazzling smile, looking so regal and powerful and, frankly, fucking hot, that she could hardly believe he washers.
And High Gods help her, despite her grief, despite her worries, all she wanted to do was peel his new uniform off and take her prince for a long, sweaty ride.
She snickered to herself and Tristan’s heated gaze shot to her, as if he could tell precisely where her thoughts had strayed.
He traced an M on his thigh.
Ma’anyu.
Unbreakable.
Truer now than it had ever been.
Lined up beside her in front of the platform were the rest of the Teles Chrysos leadership: Trophonios plus the three generals—Fetar, Pfania, and Tanius—to whom Cassandra had been briefly introduced this morning. The latter curved a bright orange wing around the back of a honey-blond female, then planted a kiss on her cheek.
Ione—who Cassandra had not yet officially met—offered Felix a strained smile before turning her attention back to Tristan, her expression indecipherable.
Tristan had insisted on meeting with Ione as soon as he’d returned from Tartarus with Cassandra in tow. He’d asked Cassandra to join him, told her that he had nothing to hide from her. But Cassandra wanted them to have their privacy forwhat she worried might be a difficult conversation. It’s what she herself would have wanted were she in Ione’s position.
The meeting had been tense, according to Tristan. Ione had threatened to leave, but he’d convinced her to stay, at least for tonight. Said her absence would be noted and that they needed to project a united front before undertaking their opening move against Eamon.
Cassandra hoped she and Ione would have a chance to speak soon. She didn’t want there to be any awkwardness between them.
But some small, wretched, unkind part of her couldn’t help holding her head a bit higher, her wings a bit wider, around the stunning female. Couldn’t help thinkinghe’s mine now, and if you try to kiss him again I will rip out your fucking tongue.
She wasn’t proud of it, but there it was.
Behind the Teles Chrysos leadership, Ronin and Mireille laughed quietly, heads bowed together as they shared some secret joke. Though the two wolf bi-forms weren’t touching, there was a lightness between them that Cassandra had never seen in Tartarus. Cassandra smiled. Mireille had finally gotten her wish. She had her friend back.
Cassandra was happy to see Ronin smiling, as well. He’d been anxious the past few days. Wanted to find out what had happened to Selene and was hoping to find clues in Delos—the last place she’d been seen after her arrest.
They’d tried reaching her through Ronin’s memories a few more times after they’d arrived in the village, to no avail. Cassandra was met with that same solid white wall she’d encountered when she’d tried it behind the wards.
Ithadgiven them the thought to try it on Tristan, to see if they could jump into Eamon’s mind, but that hadn’t worked either. All Cassandra had encountered was a blurred haze withindecipherable sounds prickling at her ears. As if something was muddying the brothers’ connection.
She tossed away thoughts of those failures as she glanced over her shoulder, scanning the faces spread out behind her. She smiled at some humans from Tartarus, those well enough to leave the healers’ quarters. She waved at Hella and Aneka, then saluted Silas, who had an arm wrapped around the shoulder of a tall female with wavy, auburn hair and dove gray wings.
