A block of ice.
Ophelia blinked rapidly, her eyes stinging. “I think the Astra...dumped me.” He’d gone cold. Arctic. He felt nothing.
“He did what?” Vivi demanded, fangs lengthening.
The labor hadn’t even started yet. Why give up now?
The stinging worsened, and her chin trembled. “I think he’s given up hope. He’s certain I’m dying—or he is.” The beasts agreed, going stationary and silent inside their cages. Helping her?
Instinct sharpened. Kill or be killed. A reminder. Halo had died for her on the battlefield—not something he would do for someone he expected to toss aside. What if he planned to do it again? Only, this time there would be no do-over.
Get used to being without me, harpy.
“That...that...douchebag! He doesn’t get to convince me I’m his heartbeat, then immediately power down. No. No! His software is getting another update. I’ll hack in, if necessary, but I will make him rue the day he decided to go this route!”
“Make him rue!” The harpire pumped her fist. “I don’t even know what we’re discussing right now, but I am loving the energy. Mistress O is in the house, yo.”
“Call me the Sweetheart.” Oh. Gross. “No. Don’t. That’s a more horrible name than expected.” Halo would not be dying today, if they were pitted against each other. She would. So the slain one wouldn’t resurrect, as Taliyah had? So what. There were other ways to revive. And if Ophelia didn’t awaken? Again, so what? Live as a warrior, die as a warrior. What would be better?
“Are you with me?” she demanded of Vivi.
“I’m with you!”
“To battle we go!” Ophelia bolted for the door.
Vivi ran with her. Side by side, they plowed through anyone in their path.
More harpies congregated in the hallway than usual, discussing the “wall of heads and horrors.” They peppered the gardens and wrestled over disagreements around Nissa’s fountain. Anyone who noticed Ophelia crowded behind her, following her every step.
Ophelia and Vivi flew up the stairs. For the first time, two Astra guarded the palace entrance. Ian and Roux. The massive brutes stared straight ahead as other harpies marched inside the foyer. Or seemed to. She’d bet good money they clocked everyone who approached.
Proof: they blocked her and Vivi from entering, becoming a wall of muscle. Harpies bumped into them—until Ophelia started throwing elbows and snarling and everyone backed off.
Whoa! Had that animalistic sound just come from her? Cage locks were melting, a breakout imminent. Though uneasy, she forged onward. No surrender!
“You aren’t to go past this point,” Ian informed her. “Halo doesn’t wish to see you.”
They think to keep me from my male? Heat spread through her chest, burned a path up her throat, and exploded from her mouth in a roar. A blending of roars, courtesy of her beasts.
Both Astra canted their heads, as if they’d just discovered a new hybrid species—bunny-dragons. Seconds passed without a word. Conversing among themselves?
Enough waiting. Nothing had ever been so important to her. She flared her claws. This was a time for action.
As Vivi and the others chanted, “Fight, fight, fight,” Ophelia the Astra Slayer attacked.
Now there was a name she could get behind.
* * *
Halo, Roc, and Taliyah occupied the usual conference room. He had explained the situation and what had transpired. They had protested his prediction for the final battle, their main argument sound. What if he was wrong?
But he wasn’t. He knew this was right just as he knew Ophelia could change his mind. Exactly why he must avoid her. He couldn’t enjoy a life with her, but he could do everything in his power to ensure she enjoyed her time without him. If he neared her, he might not retain the necessary fortitude to leave her. He must remain in an emotionless void, so strained he barely functioned. Something he’d never wished to experience again.
But he did it; he endured. Anything to keep his harpymph safe. What he must do next...what he must convince the Commander to do...
“There must be another approach,” Roc said. “You cannot be asking me to do what I think you are.”
“You suggest I haven’t considered this from every angle?” He had. “Erebus will select me as his champion.” There was no way around it. “His goal is clear. Pit me against myself, only in the guise of another.” Halo’s champion couldn’t be Erebus himself. The god would only kill himself, making Halo the loser, and bringing the curse upon the Astra. Then, Erebus would resurrect on his own, as he always resurrected, with no outside aid needed. A loophole.
No, the god had to be kept off the field of battle entirely. “I’ll be picking you, Roc.” The one good thing to come from this end? Halo got to eliminate Ophelia from the equation entirely.
“I won’t kill you,” Roc snapped.
“I’ll take care of the deed myself. You need only stand on the field.”