Page 21 of Salt & Blood (Ivy & Bone #4)

ADVANTAGE

PRUE

Prue’s nightmares were plagued by Hyperion’s dark eyes as he choked the life from her, his fingers tightening around her throat as darkness pressed in. She woke with a start, her neck throbbing in pain as if the Titan’s hands had actually been wrapped around her. Light filtered into Cyrus’s bedchamber, and Prue was twisted up in his bedsheets. She didn’t remember falling asleep. Her face was sticky with tears.

And Cyrus had not returned.

Blinking sleepily, Prue sat up and surveyed the room, thinking perhaps he was dressing or bathing and she hadn’t seen him yet. After climbing out of bed, she padded across the chamber, then peered into the bathing room. When she turned, she found a tray of fruits, cheeses, sliced bread, and raspberry tarts waiting for her in the sitting area. She popped a few grapes in her mouth, her stomach growling, then followed it with a heel of bread.

It wasn’t until after she finished eating a generous helping of tarts that she realized a servant had been in here. Which meant someone had seen her in Cyrus’s room and could very likely report to Apollo.

But as she glanced to the door for the tenth time, her stomach hollowed, and she feared the worst. If Apollo had killed Cyrus, then it wouldn’t matter who saw Prue in this bedchamber.

She began pacing the room, wringing her hands together over and over as she deliberated what to do. Her instincts told her to charge after Apollo and demand to see her husband. But what if Hyperion was waiting for her? Would she survive another attack from him?

Besides, what if Cyrus’s negotiations with Apollo were going well? What if she ruined everything by storming in on their discussion?

But she knew Cyrus… Even if he claimed to be civil, she knew his temper would get the better of him. He would threaten Apollo. Possibly even attack him.

And if Hyperion was there…

Prue stilled, her eyes flaring wide as the food in her stomach churned with anxiety. Oh, Goddess…

Would Cyrus survive an attack from Hyperion? If the Titan siphoned energy from him, would it kill him?

Caution be damned. Prue strode to the door, purpose and resolve flooding her veins. She’d waited long enough.

She yanked on the door handle, only to come face-to-face with Cyrus.

Prue yelped, and Cyrus clamped a hand over her mouth, his eyes wide with warning. Wordlessly, he walked her backward into the room before shutting and locking the door once more. Only when he turned to face her did she realize he was panting, and his face was a shade paler than usual.

“Cyrus?” she asked hesitantly.

His hands were braced on the door, his head bowed as he sucked in gulps of air. Hesitantly, Prue placed a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t shake her off, so she tugged on him, pulling him to face her.

When he did, she almost staggered backward in alarm.

His eyes glowed silver .

Prue’s blood chilled as she gaped at him, glancing over his form for any other sign of god power, like his tattoos or his horns or his silver hair.

But no. Only his eyes were different. And the longer she looked at them, the more the silver began to fade, slowly dimming to the blue of his human eyes.

“What—What happened?” she breathed.

“I attacked Apollo.” His voice was strained.

“Dammit, Cyrus,” Prue hissed, rubbing her forehead in exasperation. She was torn between amusement—because of course he hadn’t been able to restrain himself around Apollo—and frustration that he would do something so stupid and reckless. “Did he hurt you?”

“No. In fact… when I put my hands on him, I—” Cyrus broke off, then cast her a wary look, as if afraid she wouldn’t believe him.

Prue’s expression softened. “What? You can tell me.”

“I pulled on his power and struck him with sun magic.”

It took a full minute for Prue to process his words. She merely blinked at him, uncomprehending, her foggy mind struggling to keep up. “I’m sorry, what ?”

In a hushed whisper, Cyrus explained in detail his altercation with Apollo. When he was finished, Prue stared at him with a furrowed brow.

“Is it Hyperion’s magic?” Cyrus asked. “Was it like this when he attacked you?”

Prue shook her head. “No, he turned my magic to ash and then ate it. And, from what you told me, it sounds like Apollo didn’t use his powers at all , so there was no way you could have inhaled it like Hyperion did . How long did the sun magic last before it disappeared?”

“An hour. I went to the cave ruins to practice, to see what I could do. It wasn’t very powerful, but it was vibrant. Like no magic I’ve ever felt before.”

Prue rubbed her hands together, worry creeping into her chest. She wanted to believe this meant Cyrus’s magic could come back. But she feared what Apollo would do. And she feared how his sun magic would affect Cyrus’s human form.

“Prue, if I can harm him with my touch, this changes everything.”

Prue looked at him, noticing the light in his eyes, the hope shining on his face.

“You can’t,” she said weakly. “Cyrus, you got lucky. If Hyperion is there next time, or, Goddess forbid, the other Titans, they will kill you.”

“Not if I can draw from their magic and use it against them.”

“And how long do you think your body can withstand that kind of strain? Cyrus, regardless of what strange siphoning ability you have, you are still a mortal. You can’t endure as much as you could when you were a god.”

Cyrus’s jaw went rigid, and the hope in his eyes died. Cold settled into Prue’s chest at the way his entire face seemed to dim. For a brief second, she returned to that horrible moment when he first awoke as a human and spat all those awful things at her.

Was he going to do it again? Was he going to claim death was preferable to being here with her?

She held perfectly still, her breath catching, her pulse racing. I’m going to lose him again, she thought, fear sweeping over her like an icy wind.

Cyrus stepped closer to her and slid his hands around her waist, bringing her hips to his. Prue inhaled sharply, surprised at the contact. But the heat of his chest against hers was like a balm to her wounds, and she closed her eyes, reveling in his touch.

“We have an advantage here, love,” Cyrus whispered, stroking loose curls away from her face and tucking them behind her ear with soft, delicate movements, as if she were made of glass. “We need to use it. Otherwise, this realm is doomed.”

Prue shook her head, a lump rising in her throat. “We know nothing about this magic. What if it’s a trick? A trap to get you to overexert yourself so the Titans can swoop in when you’re weak and defenseless? What if?—”

Cyrus’s mouth crushed hers in a hard, fierce kiss, silencing her protests. She trembled, clinging to him, letting him claim her lips with his, letting his tongue sweep along hers. She felt herself melting into him, her fingers gripping his tunic, clenching the fabric to draw him closer.

Again and again, he kissed her, his tongue gliding along her lips and exploring the inside of her mouth. It felt as if he were kissing her for the first time, his movements hungry and desperate, curious and explorative.

When he finally pulled away, they were both gasping for breath. He brought his forehead to hers.

“I love you,” he rasped.

Prue licked her lips, struggling to calm her racing heart. “I love you, too.”

“We have no one else on our side,” Cyrus said, withdrawing to look into her eyes. “It’s only you and me against Apollo and Hyperion. And there may be more Titans coming. I don’t know how to stop them. If this strange new magic is the way to turn the battle in our favor, we have to do it.”

Prue knew he was right, but her insides quivered with terror at the prospect of losing him. She couldn’t do this without him. Even if she managed to overpower Apollo, if she lost Cyrus in the process, she wouldn’t be able to care for the realm. Not without her husband at her side.

Taking a slow, steadying breath, Prue raised a hand, revealing her palm to him. When Cyrus frowned, she said, “Take some of my power.”

Cyrus withdrew a step, eyes wide. “What?”

“Just a bit of it. Let’s see what you can do.”

Cyrus was shaking his head. “No. I can’t. Prue, it could hurt you.”

“You need to train somehow. This is the best way. I can tell you how it affects me, and we can see if it works on other gods besides Apollo.”

Cyrus stared at her, his eyes hard and unyielding.

Prue raised her eyebrows. “You said it yourself. We have to do it. You can’t just rely on luck and good timing when we fight him.”

With a sigh, Cyrus drew closer and slowly brought his palm to hers.

Nothing happened.

Prue rolled her eyes. “You have to channel that energy, Cyrus. If touching alone pulled power from me, I would’ve been reduced to an empty shell after what we did last night.”

A half smirk played at Cyrus’s lips before he focused intently on her palm. His brows knitted together, and a muscle feathered in his jaw. She recognized the fire brewing in his gaze: his fury. He was channeling the same rage he felt when he faced Apollo. Darkness swirled in his eyes, making them seem black for a moment instead of icy blue.

When he brought his hand to hers again, a cold chill seeped into her flesh, freezing her blood and making her gasp. Icy power flooded her, coursing through her veins. It felt so familiar…

Cyrus immediately jerked his hand away from her, flexing his fingers. Small tendrils of vines sprang from his hand, circling his palm. His face paled as he stared at the magic— Prue’s magic—as it encircled him. The vines twisted and coiled, moving as if they were alive. They arched toward Cyrus like an animal that wanted to be stroked. After a moment, the vines receded, vanishing back into Cyrus’s palm.

Prue cradled her own hand, staring at it. She thought she might find some kind of scorch mark or injury. But she saw nothing but smooth brown skin. Nothing to indicate Cyrus had wounded her by stealing a kernel of her power.

“Cyrus,” she whispered before looking up at him. “That icy cold feeling—it felt like your power. ”

He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“Remember when we were first bound together in Krenia?” Prue asked. “I summoned your black flames. And it felt… just like this. Cold and powerful and all-consuming.”

Cyrus swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. “What does this mean? Is my magic back?”

Prue had no answer to this. If it was Cyrus’s magic, it clearly wasn’t the same. And if it wasn’t… then what was it, and where had it come from?

A knock sounded at the door, and Cyrus grabbed Prue’s wrist before hauling her to the bathing chamber. She opened her mouth to protest, to tell him it didn’t matter, but that same fire still churned in his eyes, and she knew better than to argue with him.

He left to answer the door, and she stood there in the bathing chamber, rubbing her arms to ward off the lingering chill of that strange power.

Subdued voices echoed from the main chamber. After a moment, the door closed, and Cyrus returned, clutching a small piece of parchment in his hands.

“What is it?” Prue asked, drawing closer to scrutinize the parchment.

“Apollo has issued a formal challenge,” Cyrus said.

Prue’s heart stuttered in her chest. “So soon? But the rest of the Titans aren’t even here. Do you think it’s because he’s afraid of your new power?”

“Either that, or he’s found a way to release the Titans on his own,” Cyrus said, handing her the letter.

Prue’s stomach clenched as she read over the words:

Apollo, God of the Sun and former King of Elysium, issues a formal challenge against Osiris, King of the Underworld. The battle will commence in three days’ time in the Undead Wilds. Single combat, to the death. The winner will claim the throne of the Underworld. To refuse this challenge is to surrender the crown.

Prue stared at the words in horror. “Single combat?” she whispered. “But that means?—”

“Only one of us can fight him,” Cyrus said in a low voice. “And it has to be me.”