Page 52 of Of Nightmares & Fire (Elusive Umbra #1)

Chapter forty

Kyros

When the portal snaps shut behind us, we are plunged into a sudden silence, the darkness changing to a starlit glow.

The words we don’t speak linger heavily in the air between us.

For a moment we both just stand there, hand in hand.

I have so much I wish I could say, but there is still so much I can’t.

Astraea pulls her hand out of mine, and I ball mine into a fist as I watch her storm away.

She kicks up sand in her path toward the glittering of firelights in the distance and, hopefully, the group who will be there waiting for us. Aithne . A place I once called home.

“Wait, Shula.” I say in a hushed tone as I stride forward too. She doesn’t. She doesn’t so much as turn her head to throw a stern look in my direction. “Dammit. Just wait.” I say through my teeth, taking purposeful strides to close the distance she has given us .

“Why?” She spins abruptly, her hair fanning out around her before settling on her back. Her shoulders are squared, her fists in tight balls at her sides. I can nearly feel the heat radiating from the fire in her.

“You need to stay with me. Even though this place should be safer than the last, you never know where your father has people.” I say, lifting my hand to rub the back of my fingers down her arm. She shrugs away from my touch, and I let my hand fall.

“That’s not what I’m talking about, Kyros, and you know it.

Don’t play stupid; it doesn’t suit you.” She says with her eyes sharp as blades.

I know that’s not what she meant. I’m aware that she wants to know more about what Karnnen was talking about, but now isn’t the time.

We are finally about to be with the group, and we have a journey ahead of us.

It won’t be as simple as rending a portal back to Diemos.

Not with the extra bodies we have now. Although the sand in my pocket and the sword at my hip still vibrate with energy, and my power seems to thrum with a whole new kind of ferocity…

I have my own questions that need answered before I can think about answering hers.

“There is a lot you don’t know about the kingdoms. It’s not something you need to worry about right now.

We are—” Astraea pokes her finger into my chest, surprising me.

Slowly, I tilt my chin to look down at her.

My own anger, my frustration with myself, and everything I want to say are just sitting at the tip of my tongue, but I can’t say any of it.

Not when I am this close to the goal I have been working toward .

“I’m sick of people telling me what I need or don’t need.” She says, with anger brimming in her tone, but then she lowers her head, her voice quieting. “For once, I want to be the one to make the decision for myself.” I step into her, curling my fingers under her chin and lifting her gaze to mine.

“I’m not trying to take choices away from you, Shula.

I gave you my word.” She remains quiet, her blue eyes sparkling with the light of the stars as she holds my stare.

The pain I see in the press of her brow, the downward tilt to her lips.

I want to take it all away, but instead I just stand here.

Hoping above everything that she gives me more time to understand myself before I tell her anything.

“HA! I called it. I told you it was him, Zinny!” Mavros’ loud laugh breaks the lingering silence between us, and Astraea jerks her chin from my fingers.

My hand falls to my side, but my eyes never leave the woman in front of me.

“After Drabeck showed up with your message, I knew it was only a matter of time before I would sense your ass again.” Mavros scoops Astraea into a hug and spins her around.

“Hey, princess! Guess you like us a little, huh? Running away with us and all.” My brother has never done well reading the energy of other people.

Astraea smiles at him, but it's not at all believable, at least not to me.

It falls when her gaze snags where I am watching them, then she turns away as Mavros tucks her under his arm and smiles wide at me with a wink.

“Colette?” I hear her ask as they begin walking away. Astraea looks back at me only briefly before her brows dip and she turns away. Even though I don't want to let her out of my sight, I know at least with Mavros she will be safe .

“She’s at training pits, giving Tarin hell, no doubt.

That friend of yours is a spitfire.” Their easy conversation trails off with the distance they create between us.

Zinya steps up to my side silently as I watch them walk into the small village.

I let out a long sigh. She is very different from Mavros in sensing energy.

Always more intuitive. She eyes me warily, giving Mavros and Astraea plenty of space before saying anything.

“What is it?” She finally asks. I cross my arms over my chest, still staring after my brother and the princess, and after another beat, I finally turn toward her.

“Have you ever felt energy coming from Tsalalerian steel? Or from the sand at the Dead Sea?” A crease forms between her eyes as she thinks about what I’m saying, before one brow quirks up and she narrows her green eyes on me.

“No… Have you?” She asks, searching.

“Not until today.” I pull the small bag of sand I collected from the dunes from my pocket and present it to her. She looks at me, unspeaking, before she finally takes the pouch and pulls it open. She dips her finger in, swirling it once before her head jerks up.

“That’s not all. There was a manticore. The beast fought alongside us ….” I tell her.

“Kyros. How?” Her eyes are round with disbelief, and then they fall to the sword at my hip. “And you have a Tsalalerian steel sword? What happened out there?” I turn my head, following the path Astraea just took with my brother.

“I'm not sure, but I intend to find out.”

“I was wondering when you would finally show up.” The voice sounds from the shadows in the corner of the room.

“You know I can’t stay away long.” I say flatly in greeting.

“The others arrived much earlier than you. Why?” He says, standing, his eyes bored and lips pursed as he crosses his arms.

“Wanted to keep things interesting, I guess.” I say, head tilting, and my mouth lifts at the corner. His mouth splits into a wide grin before he closes the distance between us. Grasping my hand, he pulls me into him, wrapping his other arm around my back with a slap. We both laugh.

“You look like shit, brother.” He laughs, pulling me out to an arm’s length.

“Yea well, I just had a run-in with some Scylia and a manticore. What’s your excuse?” He laughs again, clapping me on the shoulder.

“Come sit. Let’s catch up.” He says, pouring a measure of whiskey into two glasses and offering one to me.

I take it before sitting in one of the leather armchairs that face the largest window in the dark room.

With a whisper and a flick of his fingers, he lights the sconces, casting an orange flickering glow around the room.

When he finally falls into the armchair across from me, he lets out a sharp whistle.

The far door opens soon after, and three scantily dressed women come striding in on light feet.

Their eyes are heavy as they saunter through the room.

The golden-haired woman wearing the sheer pink two-piece skirt and top sets up in the corner, her fingers deftly plucking at the strings of a harp in a slow rhythm.

The other two women split, and I watch as Rowan reaches out for the one with the deep auburn hair and a tiny sheer green dress.

Her laugh flits from her like bells, and as she straddles his lap, it bares more than just her ass to me.

Rowan groans as he grasps her hips and grinds her down on himself.

“You know you are here at a great time.” He says before trailing his tongue up the woman’s neck. “It's been a while since you have been here for the Shula Morana celebration.”

“I suppose it has.” I say. Grinding my teeth as I watch him pull the woman’s head back with her red hair wrapped around his fist. The movement makes her back arch and her breasts push out toward him.

He licks his lips before his other hand comes up, ripping the thin fabric down the middle, and he bites down hard around her pert nipple.

Her voice rings out in a shriek, then transforms to a breathy moan.

I tense as a small hand runs along the back of my shoulders.

The last of the three women comes around in front of me, her fingertips trailing along my chest until she stops in the center.

She stands between my legs, slowly running her long white painted nails down my body.

Her hair is dark but lacks luster. Her deep brown eyes lock with mine as she lets the sheer white robe she wears open and fall from her thin body.

Slowly, and with a hooded gaze, she begins dropping to her knees.

I could use the distraction. Release some tension that seems to be constant as of late.

Maybe Mavros is right. Maybe I just need to get laid.

Just as her knees touch the ground between my feet, my mind flashes to a field.

The blue flower in the scorpion grass with a random ray of sunshine finding its petals and lighting it up like magick from within.

My hand snaps out, wrapping around her delicate wrist just before she reaches for my belt.

“No.” I grunt, and confusion and worry blooms across her face.

“I’m sorry I displease you, sire; perhaps you want pleasure another way?” She asks. Her voice is wrong. Deep and raspy. Her dark eyes and golden skin. She is beautiful in every way but one. She is not Astraea .

“Rowan, we need to speak alone.” I say tersely.

A wet slapping sounds behind the one who is leaving my lap, and when she is out of the way, I see Rowan with his cock shoved down the redhead’s throat as she groans around him.

Tears running down her face and marking her cheeks with black that runs from the color staining her eyes.

“Oh, of course we can, brother. Just let me…” He tips his head back, the woman on her knees in front of him letting out a strangled choke as he shoves his cock all the way down her throat.

He stays there for several seconds, pumping into her before he growls.

His body shakes as he lets his release fill her throat.

He smiles wide as he lets himself slide out and slaps her.

She gasps, looking at him wide-eyed. He wrenches her up by her hair.

“Good girl, finishing me like that. Now, take the girls to my chambers. Let me finish this conversation, and I will give you all some attention.” She smiles sh eepishly, fluttering her lashes at him before all three sway their way out of the room.

“Was all of that necessary?” I say, annoyance coating my deep voice. He only laughs, shooting back the whiskey he has kept held loosely in his fingers.

“Of course it was. You know how I like to start the celebrations. Especially when one of my greatest friends is here to celebrate with us.” He says, the leather creaks as he sits back down in the chair with a wide smile.

“Unfortunately, I’m not here for the celebrations.”

“Yea well, refusing a beautiful woman willing to open her mouth for you will definitely put a damper on things for you. Your brother didn’t have such reservations.

” He laughs, then finally must see the seriousness in my face, because he straightens, leaning forward.

“Ok then, Kyros, what has you all bent out of shape?” At one point in my life, I may have been willing and eager to partake in this sort of senseless fucking, but now even the thought has tension building all wrong, settling on my shoulders.

I toss the pouch of sand to him, and he catches it as it hits him in the chest.

He tugs the bag open and looks at me confused. Rowan’s magick is unique; not only does he have an elemental affinity to fire, but he can also read magickal signatures. His face transforms as he hovers his hand over the open leather sack.

“What is this?” He asks, all playfulness gone from his tone. His brows now lower, and his lips held in a straight line.

“I was hoping you might be able to tell me…” I say as I unsheathe the sword at my hip. His eyes widen before he cinches the bag cl osed and tosses it back to me. He shakes his head in denial as he looks from the black blade laying across my lap to the sand in my hand and back to me.

“How?” He asks, and I shake my head.

“The manticore that fought in the dune alongside us didn’t leave anyone to ask…” I say, clenching my jaw.

“Manticore?” He asks incredulously, only just now realizing it was not a joke I said earlier. “So you found the relic.” He says it simply, and heat floods my veins. Adrenaline courses through me with my raging blood. Many looks cross his face before he finally settles on excitement.

“It's not what you think.” I finally say, and his brow twitches with confusion.

“What else could it be?” He asks.

“I don’t know for certain, but I don’t think that the relic is an object, Rowan. But a person. A woman, and she has no fucking clue.” Rowan stares at me for a long moment, and when his face slowly changes into something wicked, the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

“Women can be used just the same, can they not?” His teeth glint in the low light, and a growl builds in my chest.

“No.” The single word is menacing, and he quirks a brow.

“Well, well, Kyros. Does this woman…mean something to you?” He asks, with a smile on his lips and a laugh in his tone. I level him with my eyes before standing abruptly.

“What did you read from the sand?” I ask. My back is ramrod straight, and my sword hand fisted around the butt of the one that hangs at my hip. Rowan's eyes narrow at the gesture, and his smile fades before he too stands. He may be an old friend, but I will not risk anything with this.

“Nothing.” He says, and the eerie one word whispered in my face makes it feel as though all the blood is draining from my face.

Cold sweat prickles my forehead, and I blink slowly.

The fact that he can sense the magick but read nothing makes what I think I saw—what I felt coming from Astraea’s nightmare— a very real possibility .

A possibility that I need to know for certain before I bring her to Queen Phaedra.