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Chapter 17

Eirik

I t had been a cold several hours between seemingly endless whippings and having to listen to the obnoxious sound of Brazen chewing with his mouth wide fucking open. Most of it had flashed by in a haze alongside the lingering scent of a steak cooked well done, and the shrill cries of a wolf caged. Mine. It was because of that haze that I hadn't realized Archon had shown up until the door was already closing, and Brazen was standing from his seat.

They left in a rush and a flurry of words, faster than I was able to follow, tripping over themselves like the devil himself was on their heels. In a rare show of fear, Brazen didn't even bother to finish his drink: a half glass of warm bourbon that made my nose twist. It was almost comical, enough to dull the edge of panic and pain, bringing me back enough to feel as I popped my jaw. If I was more coherent, I might have laughed.

Took Osiris long enough to come pay Archon a visit.

I was bloodied, beaten down by the burning on my wrist and the thrumming in my chest, like an unending pulse that roared almost as loud as my other half. He howled again, the sorrowful sound making my head hurt, the echo of it loud in the room as the keening cry slid past cracked lips. I'd expected to hear voices, the begging pleas of a dead man as Archon brought Osiris to us and put an end to whatever this fucking game was.

Instead, a chill filled me, sweat clinging to my skin, the salt from it stinging in the open wounds on my back. The first hints of something wrong started with silence . My wolf went deadly still, only the crack of the fire sounding as I held my breath. My ears strained, listening for the threat my body seemed convinced was just behind me … when I felt the first fissure open in my chest.

Losing a brother was much the same as losing a limb.

When Nero died, he tore out a part of my heart and took it with him, and I still felt that pain along the jagged remains of his bond. I never could have guessed that what would bring that horrible grief rushing back … was the feeling of it hitting all over again.

My teeth clashed, and the feral red of my eyes bled into nothing but rage. I didn't have the lucidity to scream, foaming at the mouth as a growl bubbled from my chest.

That part of me that made me úlfhéeinn thundered against my skull, teeth grazing my consciousness, claws digging at my sanity, vicious and cruel with every attempt to crack through Archon's nullification spell. He pushed until my wrists broke in preparation for the shift that wouldn't fucking come, the old metal shackles barely creaking.

Brazen had already tried, already forced more than I had to give . It was his favorite game, and if even he couldn't bring it forward through this hell …

I fell into a frenzy, my wolf and my mind melding together as we crashed against the chains again. Until more bones broke, until my beast was panting, and any hint of hesitancy bled away, staining the floor like the blood that rained from my wrists. The magic that seeped into the aged iron was potent, lying over my skin like sludge.

But no matter what I did, it didn't break.

Thirty seconds passed. Dread pooled inside of me, eating me alive as the drag of sleep came with the rising of the sun, more telling than it had ever been as I shivered.

Shifts were never comfortable, but I'd grown over the years to look forward to the pain. To the rearranging of bones and descent into a more animalistic nature. My chest expanded, filling with air that was let out in another vicious growl that broke down into a scream.

There was no joy to be found now, as I heard the start of it, the rise of the sun, and the panicked cries. I was sure it was them. A fear of my own death had stopped me when it happened to Nero; the thought of the sun on my skin freezing me even as he'd screamed. I'd had a brother die once. I'd never recovered then, and this would damn me. How would I look my Elskan in the eyes and tell her I'd lost them?

How would I look at myself?

The sound of crashing and cursing filled the space, replacing the screams I hadn't realized had started. Voices cried before being cut off with an abruptness that paired with the slicing of steel through flesh, before the scent of fresh blood filled the air. The clattering of the door flying open at my back was followed by silence.

My heart damned near fucking stopped, and I sagged, pulling in a breath, filling my lungs with what I expected to be coffee-lined mint. My wolf cried again, low in my chest.

I was met with a face I was sure was here to haunt me, covered in red and brimming with feral emotion. His scent hit me as his hands burned against the chains, the spell fighting to keep him off. Sandalwood, the heady scent of Rome and molten steel. Strength, grit. Gladiator.

His chest heaved, his face pale and covered in a layer of sweat that made fissures in the red, silver eyes honed through years of vicious fights and brutal victories. Osiris wasn't here.

Nero was.

What a shitty time to hallucinate.

"Holy fuck, what did they do to you, Eirik?" he asked, his voice cracking as he hissed, shaking his smoldering hands.

"Nero?" I asked, almost too hopeful. Something in my brain must have shorted, the torture getting to me.

No matter how many times I blinked, he stayed there. Strong shoulders, the same crooked nose and hardy eyebrows. Standing, breathing , like he'd never died.

My heart jolted, my beast howling with a renewed energy. Nero flashed a smile, the familiar crooked grin the final smoking gun. "That's me, or so I'm told. Help me out here."

The shackles had burned rings into my wrists, searing the skin. Nero struggled with them, the room draining his strength. I wasn't sure how he was here, or if he really even was, but it was enough to get me moving again.

"Where—" I started, the word bitten off as another ripple of a shift tore through me. I arched in the chains, grunting as my chest contracted, a few ribs snapping. "Fallon and Adrian. We need to find them."

He cursed, raising a bloodied blade—a sword —with an ornate golden handle wrapped in delicate red thread. In one fell swing, it sliced through the chain attached to the shackle on my first wrist. Sparks flew at the meeting of steel and iron.

"On the roof, I'd guess. We have to go now. " Nero grunted, as shrapnel flew around us, his pain echoing mine, ripping through the last chain holding me captive as the Flame coiled in me.

Everything ached as I crashed into the ground, agony welling in my fucking bones. It was inconsequential, a nuisance. I steeled myself, wasting no time before flying through the halls of Fellow Manor. My beast raged in the back of my head, but didn't push to take control, lending me strength to race faster. Only one goal in mind.

We had to get to the roof.

I heard Nero behind me, and together, we caught the remaining guards by surprise, ripping out throats as we climbed. There was no plan, no discussion, but that didn't stop us from falling into a formation as old as the bond between us. The tie in my chest told me where to go, and Nero made sure no one followed us. With each kill, each move that played out like the most well-rehearsed choreography, I let myself believe.

Nero wasn't just here. He fought with me as if he'd never died.

Another bond in my chest exploded, dropping me to my knees with a scream. It ruptured, fizzling into dust so abruptly it had me puking onto the ground. My entire body revolted, a hand on my back the only thing keeping me moving. I struggled to my feet.

Fallon.

Grief had never been something that I'd handled well. I didn't fall into numbness like Osiris or seek a pound of flesh like Fallon. I didn't hide my sorrows behind smiles and affection like Adrian. I shut it down, locked it away where it couldn't be a threat. I didn't have time for something so trivial as grief when my brothers needed someone to lean on. I locked it up, chained and beaten, buried so deep that I might force myself to forget about it.

Until moments like this. Moments when death became too real. My thoughts went to Nero, to the moment we'd pulled him off the pyre in Russia. I could remember that day so clearly, the smoke in the air, and the hint of singed flesh. It was here again now, and it brought every sick memory back to me.

The box I'd kept that trauma in came roaring forward, snapping open, unraveling everything I'd kept in it: my life before my turn. Nero's death.

Brazen's heavy fucking whip.

I reached for the necklace that sat around my neck, the steel that used to burn into my skin like a monument to my brother … missing . The scar there caught under my fingers instead, pushing me just as hard, and I didn't stop to think as I reached the top of a long set of spiral stairs. Fallon's bond pulled tight, my throat closing as it shriveled. The fear of the sun, of death . It was there, biting into me, threatening me with immobilization.

I wouldn't lose another brother.

I was already barreling outside when Nero's scream of protest reached me. The sun hit without remorse. My skin immediately revolted, peeling back, my blood turning to ash in my veins.

I kept moving, kept fighting.

Because it was what Nero would have done, what I wanted to do the day he'd died. I couldn't save him, was too scared and too fucking cowardly. So be it his ghost that came to me, or something else entirely …

I wouldn't fail another one of my brothers again.