Page 81 of Lady of Starfire (Lady of Darkness #5)

Cyrus

C yrus shoved bits of egg and fruit around on his plate, an elbow propped on the table and his temple resting against his fist. He wasn’t hungry, but if he didn’t at least pretend to eat, Cass would throw a godsdamn fit.

But Cass wasn’t here. This morning he sat at the breakfast table alone.

Scarlett still had not woken up. It had been three days since they’d gone to the Southern Islands and the female had shaken the very realm.

They’d all met up on one of the islands outside the Avonleyan Wards as they’d planned.

Cyrus wasn’t sure what was more surprising: the fact that they’d all survived or the fact that Sorin had somehow Traveled.

Kailia had poured a vial of Cethin’s blood into the sea, and Cassius had Traveled them all back to Aimonway.

They’d all slept. He and Cass had slept an entire day.

The Ash Riders and Sorin nearly two. Rayner’s power wasn’t anywhere near replenished.

He hadn’t seen the Avonleyan Queen to know how she fared.

Sorin had managed to refill Scarlett’s reserves before he’d fallen into the deep sleep needed to restore their gifts, and Cyrus had given Cassius extra blood when he’d woken.

Cyrus had been awake for nearly two hours this morning when the knock had come on their door. With Cass still sleeping, he’d been surprised to find Tybalt on the other side.

“Do you have news from Razik?” Cyrus had asked, stepping aside so the Avonleyan Commander could enter.

Tybalt had shaken his head, features tightening some. “I have not heard from him in quite some time.”

“Should we be worried?”

Tybalt had flashed him a tight smile. “Razik is resourceful, and he will not leave Eliza right now. I am sure the two of them together are a formidable pair.”

Cyrus had nodded. He had a point, but still …

All right, fine. He missed Eliza. He hadn’t seen her in weeks, and before that she’d been healing. He wanted some sense of normalcy, and that included her snark.

Tybalt had cleared his throat then. “I was hoping to speak with Cassius about a few things.”

As if he’d heard his name, Cass had come through the door that led to their bedchamber. Barefoot and shirtless, Cyrus had looked him up and down. Cass’s lips had rolled to hide his smirk, but his focus was fixed on his father.

Cyrus had left them to their daddy-son bonding session and wandered down to the dining room, finding the breakfast spread ready and waiting. So here he sat. Alone with the same thoughts that had him up before the sun.

The same thoughts that had kept him from sleeping much at all last night.

Now that Scarlett had the lock, he needed to go start looking for this thing the Sorceress wanted from the Black Syndicate.

He had a feeling she might be looking to collect more blood from him soon too.

So many of their plans now had to be timed perfectly.

This little quest was no different. If things went well, everything would fall into place. If things didn’t …

Well, they had backup plans for their backup plans at this point.

Footsteps sounded and his gaze flicked to the door, Tybalt and Cassius coming through a few moments later. Cyrus sat up straighter at the look on Cassius’s face. The tense jaw, lips in a thin line, a slight furrow between his brows.

There was something …not wrong, necessarily. But it was something that bothered him, and Cass was trying to hide it.

His gaze met Cyrus’s, and he moved to the seat next to him, reaching for the plate of toast. Tybalt moved to a chair at the head of the table, his demeanor the same as Cassius’s.

“What’s going on?” Cyrus finally asked as the two wordlessly filled their plates.

“Nothing,” Cassius said too quickly, scooping fried potatoes from a bowl.

Cyrus looked at Tybalt, the same warm brown eyes as Cassius had, already staring back at him.

“Cethin said he visited with you all last night,” Tybalt said.

“Yeah …” Cyrus said in confusion. They’d all been in the princess’s suite with Sorin.

With Scarlett still unconscious, Sorin rarely left the space.

They’d gathered in their sitting room to hash out final details for the next phase of their plans.

Although that was rather pointless when Cyrus really thought about it.

Scarlett would wake up and likely change everything anyway.

“His power has been restoring over these past weeks,” Tybalt went on.

“Doesn’t it take Avonleyans quite a bit of time to do that?” Cyrus asked, glancing at Cass who was giving his father a pointed look.

“Yes, especially when completely drained as Cethin was,” Tybalt answered. “His circumstances are …a little different.”

“Because Kailia isn’t his Source?” Cyrus asked. He’d found it odd that she wasn’t. He couldn’t imagine Cethin having that kind of bond with someone else.

“Kailia is not Fae,” Tybalt said, shaking his head. “Cethin does not have a Source, nor will he ever take one. As I said, his circumstances are different.”

“Different how, exactly?” Cyrus asked, settling back in his chair and crossing his arms. “And what do you mean Kailia is not Fae?”

Tybalt cut off a piece of sausage. “These are questions you should ask Cethin.”

“Cethin hasn’t exactly been forthcoming with information, so I am asking you,” Cyrus said, his tone softening into a dark demand that even had Cassius pausing and turning to look at him.

It took a lot to get under Cyrus’s skin, and he knew his personality often made people forget he was the Fire Court Second.

Good-natured and easy-going to hide the cunning.

It was a skill he’d perfected with Merrik.

Rayner might rip out organs, and Eliza might get extra stabby with pointy objects, but Cyrus?

He didn’t need the fancy tricks. He preferred to simply burn things, and smile at the carnage left in his wake while sipping on a glass of liquor and smoking some mugweed.

But they were in the middle of a godsdamn war. There shouldn’t be secrets at this point. All cards should be on the table. Saylah keeping information hostage was enough. They didn’t need to be doing it to each other.

Tybalt cleared his throat, setting his silverware off to the side. “We do not know what Kailia is. Cethin and Razik have been searching for answers for decades, but without knowing where she came from—”

“I thought she was raised in those cliffs like Rayner,” Cyrus interrupted.

“As far as she can remember, yes. But her ancestry? Parents? We have nothing to go on. Only her gifts, which seem to mirror that of Ash Riders but are also different,” Tybalt explained. “And with Cethin being able to detect power levels, he can tell she is not Fae.”

“And even if Fae were more accessible, he would not take a Source?” Cyrus guessed, Cassius still suspiciously quiet while he listened to their conversation.

“Correct. Saylah refills his gifts faster when she can, but her strength is not what it should be, having been trapped here for so long,” Tybalt went on.

“Does he need blood then?” Cyrus asked. He’d been supplying it to Cassius since he’d returned. Neve was the only other available Fae option at this point, and she’d started providing for Auberon. For either of them to supply Cethin? It would take a lot for such a powerful being.

Tybalt shook his head again. “Cethin will not drink. He …” Tybalt paused, clearly searching for the right words. “It would require a large amount for him at this point. But Cethin is not who we should be discussing right now.”

Cyrus propped his elbow on the arm of his chair, his finger steepled along his temple. “You brought Cethin up.”

“Yes, because he spent some time with all of you last night. With his power returning, he can once again sense power levels,” Tybalt said, eyes flicking to Cassius.

Cyrus sat forward, understanding exactly what Tybalt was saying this time. “You haven’t been taking enough,” he snarled at Cass.

Cyrus knew he’d needed more. He’d been giving him blood twice a day, but it had apparently still not been enough.

“It has been enough,” Cassius said, turning to face him, his features a mixture of frustration and … Cyrus couldn’t tell what else was there. “Or it was until we returned from the Southern Islands.”

Cyrus placed a palm on the table as he said, “Just to make sure I have this right: instead of saying something and telling me you needed more, Cethin had to tell your daddy who, in turn, had to tell me?”

“Fuck off with that daddy shit,” Cassius snarled, eyes shifting and glowing softly.

“No, you fuck off, Cass,” Cyrus shot back. “Did we not have this exact argument weeks ago?”

“Things have obviously changed since then,” Cass retorted, stabbing a piece of sausage onto his fork.

“Not really. Still found out from someone else that you are not properly refilling your reserves.”

Cassius’s fork clattered to his plate, and he turned to face him fully. “That’s not fair, Cyrus.”

“What’s not fair is you not keeping your magic wells full at all times when others are counting on you in a godsdamn war. Gods! Why is this so hard for you and Scarlett to understand? Why did we practically have to beat this same concept into her?” Cyrus spat.

“Could it possibly be because it was literally beaten into us not to be dependent on others?” Cassius bit back through clenched teeth.

“Bullshit,” Cyrus said, settling back in his chair again. “You two are ridiculously co-dependent on each other.”

“Perhaps I should let you two have some time—” Tybalt said, starting to get to his feet.

“No need,” Cyrus interjected, sliding his chair back and standing. “Maybe you can talk some sense into your son. Whatever I say to him clearly doesn’t sink in.”

“Cyrus,” Cassius sighed, rubbing at his brow with his thumb and forefinger.

Cyrus paused in the doorway, resting his hand on the doorjamb as he looked back over his shoulder, already feeling the guilt over his part in this. “I know, Cass,” he sighed. “Just …find me when you’re ready.”