“You’re not the only one who suffered,” she pointed out, her tone bleak, knowing she must hurt this man who loved her.
“I’m not sure I can bear to hear this from your lips as well as Erebus’s,” he whispered.
So her father had already taunted him with the information?Yes, Grandpa Bus is gonna die bad.
Laban scrubbed a hand over his face, his burst of temper fading. “Just don’t say it,” he repeated.
“I must. Because youdoneed to hear it from my lips.” Without truth, what did they have? Deep breath in. Out. “Roux is... He is my consort. Something I still don’t understand. It is impossible. Beyond impossible. But it’s also true.” A harpy shouldn’t be able to have two mates, and yet she did. “Even without answers, I... I’m with him now. I can’t turn off what I feel for him just because you’ve come back.”
“But you can, love.” Eyes bright, Laban dropped to his knees between her legs. “You onlythinkthe Astra is your consort.”
As gently as possible, she told him, “I know what I feel.” And yet, despite the strength of her feelings for the Astra, Laban drew her still. Yet, it paled in comparison to what she felt for Roux.
How?
He gave his head an emphatic shake. “I’ve been with your father for weeks. Sometimes he forgets I’m there and mutters to himself. Again and again, he’s cackled about the trick he’s played on you. How Roux isn’t your consort. How you are his downfall.”
Heart in her throat, Blythe fought for air. Was he right? Erebus had proven the deceitfulness of his character again and again. She just, she didn’t know anything anymore.
Springing away from the bed, away from Laban, she croaked, “I need time alone. Need to think.” Before he could respond, she flashed to a place known as No Man’s Land. A pocket garden realm created by the Astra, at her sister’s insistence.
Several other harpies loitered around, laughing, chatting, and sniffing flowers. Screw being polite. “Out,” she screeched. “Now.”
They obeyed as if their lives depended on it, and she plopped onto a wooden bench. What was she going to do?
31
THE DEATH
Roux sat at the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his head bowed. Screams reverberated through every inch of his being, a never-ending chorus. The prisoners had escaped. For the first time, he didn’t care. And he wasn’t bothered by them. They were no more than an irritating blip when compared to the travesty of his life.
He should have returned to the Commander and Taliyah to finish issuing his report of the happenings in Ation—and events soon to happen, now that Blythe was the realm’s queen. Instead, he’d fired his concubine and come to his bedroom hoping to ease the turmoil in his mind.
Couldit be eased? Laban was alive and not trapped in Roux’s head, as assumed. Hisgravitanow possessed two consorts.
A humorless laugh escaped him. The harphantom wouldn’t have two consorts for long, though, would she? No doubt she was already making plans to ditch the newest as quickly as possible. His hands curled into fists.
He couldn’t blame her for it. In a matter of days, he was supposed to cut out her heart with trinite, bringing harm to her yet again, ending her once and for all. Either that, or he welcomed a curse upon the Astra.
Pain stabbed his chest. Of every torture he’d endured throughout his life, this was unquestionably the worst. Were Laban and Blythe already in bed? Touching? Groaning each other’s names? Cuddling and whispering sweet everythings? Was she making him laugh? Lifting the never-ending gloom off his life with the simplest of smiles? Kissing?
“There you are.”
The relieved statement penetrated his awareness. Huffing and puffing, he lifted his gaze to find Ian beside him. The Astra’s incredible height and powerful build swallowed much of the space.
Roux almost offered the Commander’s salute. Once, Ian had led the Astra. Had he not refused to sacrifice his bride during the original blessing task, he would still be at the helm. Now he held steady at ninth. He remained the strongest among them, however, and also the charmer. Able to seduce any female and befriend any male. What few failed to realize until too late? Beneath his affable exterior lurked a ferocious interior.
“Here I am,” he said, not recognizing the animalistic quality to his own voice.
“Roc is eager for the rest of your report—whoa! What’s this look for?” The other male waved a finger in Roux’s face. “Did you hear Taliyah is quote unquote going full harpy on you and roasting you on a spit? Because she is.”
Movement drew his attention to the left. Silver materialized beside Ian, saying, “Did you find—Ah. There he is. Roc sent me to find out what’s taking so long. Shall I transport us all together?” Mass teleportation was his specialty. Along with the ability to torch his foes with only a glance and read hundreds of minds at once.
He frowned as he looked Roux over. “What’s wrong with you? Why is your face like that? Did Ian tell you Taliyah is determined to string you up by your intestines?”
“Enough about Taliyah. My face is fine.” For once, Roux wasn’t schooling his expression to hide his emotions, that was all.
With a growl, he sprang to his feet and paced before the pair. Why not tell them his problems? He wasn’t a sharer by nature, but he’d never needed advice more.