Page 184 of As Above, So Below

“And he will.” Rowen huffs.

“Consider this an exchange,” I say with a remorseful half-smile. “You ensure Ryc remains engaged in the fighting, and I do my best to free you of your contract.”

Rowen shifts his weight again, his armor surprisingly silent withthe motion, his green cloak swinging behind him.

“I can’t promise the outcome,” I add quietly. “But ending him is intention.”

“Do you understand what you’re asking of me?”

I remain silent.

“Alaryc will kill anyone who stands in the way of reaching his dying mate,” Rowen says, his tone softer, sadder. “And when you die, it will destroy him. He will be consumed by madness.”

His words shoot straight through my stomach, and I inhale sharply.

“We spent three centuries realms apart, kept separated by Netharis,” I nearly whisper, my voice trembling. “He will overcome this.”

“He knew about you then?”

Nodding slowly, I answer. “During the Dividing War, the battle in Monora, south of Elias—”

“The Carthon Wilds.” His eyes alight in recognition. “You were there when Thalion died.” Rowen steps back, as if I’m no longer mortal, but a Death Bringer. He looks at me as if he’s seeing a demon for the first time, bewilderment hanging on his sharp features. “You are truly entwined with Nektos.”

Laughing weakly, I say, “I haven’t been given much choice in the matter.”

Rowen moves toward the door, letting his hand fall upon the handle. “I’ll do it. But you have to find a way back to him.”

It’s my eyes that widen now.

“If you somehow kill the god of death, you need to return to him. Alaryc doesn’t deserve the punishment of losing his mate.”

“I won’t be able to return,” I scoff a laugh, letting bitterness win. “I don’t possess that kind of power. I’m not a god, Your Majesty.”

Rowen laughs, a genuine sound. And it’s so much warmer than I ever could have imagined.

“I think at this point you can call me Rowen,” he says quietly as he opens the door. “Don’t fail, Vestaris.”

The door closes behind him and Eve leaps from her seat.

“Are you sure he won’t go running to the Sovereign King?” she asks as she approaches, her stare fixed on the door.

“He might,” I concede, letting my arms fall to my sides. “But with you keeping Cyran at bay, my options are limited.”

I sink onto the bed, Eve settling in beside me. My leather messenger bag packed with everything I consider mine sits behind me—a couple of books, a couple of obsidian boxes, a few small random things that have more meaning than they should. Packed away and ready for Eve to hide them. I won’t be bringing them with me to the hells.

I can’t.

And they shouldn’t be left where anyone can reach them.

We sit in silence for some time before I take her hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

“I swear to the gods, Ves, if you can pull this off…” she trails off.

“No promises,” I whisper softly.

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With the sun far below the horizon, the stars and universe make themselves known, featuring a moon severed in half by a blood red hue.