Chapter 14 Fourteen
Rhea's POV
Everything happened in seconds.
The next I was on my bed by Theron, holding his hand. The next second the glass burst inward and something in black hurtled past the window.
Theron was supernaturally swift as he flung himself between me and the assailant. The silver blade, which was aimed at my heart swept into his shoulder instead.
There was a loud cry of pain and anger from Theron that shook the room. He snatched the assassin up in a single hand and hurled it across the clearing. Then they crash against the wall hard enough to crack stone.
But they weren't alone.
Further black figures flowed through the smashed window and began to stalk the walls with an unnatural precision like movement. There were professional killers, I said to myself with chilly certainty.
"Rhea, run!" Theron called out once more, as he was already facing two additional assassins.
But I couldn't move. Couldn't think. These men had come to kill me. Sent by my own father.
One of Theron's assassins sprinted out and straight toward me with a nasty curved blade.
I leapt out of the bed but it was no escape. The killer was simply too fast, he was on me.
Something inside me snapped.
Not fear. Not panic. Pure, white hot rage.
Silver flames poured out of my palms automatically. It was that wild and uncontained.
They went flying in reverse, like they had been struck by a battering ram. They hit the dresser and wood splintered on impact.
I looked down at my hands, at the flames licking over the skin. I'd done that. Me.
"Behind you!" Theron's voice sliced through my daze.
I whirled even as a second assassin stabbed. Instinct took over. I thrust my hands out and a wave of silver flames poured from me.
The murderer howled as the flames consumed him. Not burning them, but hurling them back with great force.
When Theron's withers burst the door, three assassins were dying, and two pinned to the wall, alive but failing fast.
And Theron was on his knees.
“No,” I gasped, running to him.
The silver dagger was still lodged in his shoulder, and I could see the green of the poison. Thin black veins spread outwards from the wound, slithering across his chest like black lightening.
“I’m O.K.,” Theron gasped, but he was not. His silver eyes had begun to lose their luster, his breaths becoming laborious.
"Someone get Miriam!" Marcus yelled from the doorway. "Now!"
Guards stood watch over the slain assassins as others examined them. I crouched beside Theron and hovered my hands over the wound, uncertain.
"You saved us," Theron finally said weakly. "Your power."
"I don't care about that." Tears blurred my vision. "You're hurt because of me."
"Worth it." He made an effort at a smile but winced with the pain.
Miriam was there almost at once, her face grim. "Let me look at that," she said when she saw Theron's injury.
"Silver poisoning," she confirmed. "And it's spreading fast. Knife was covered in something, an accelerant.”
"Can you help him?" I asked desperately.
“I must extract the poison now or he will die.” Miriam reached into her bag and, with trained efficiency, started to pull out supplies. "But this is advanced. It’s specifically designed to kill Lycans.”
Theron grabbed my hand, and gave it a feeble squeeze. "Do what you have to do."
Miriam bustled about, laying on poultices and now muttering spells. But I could tell it was not sufficient. The dark veins continued to move, now stretching toward his heart.
“This isn’t working,” Miriam said, her voice heavy with frustration. “The poison is too potent, and too rapid.”
“There’s got to be something,” I said. "Anything."
Miriam glanced at me, her ancient eyes meaning. "Your healing power worked before. But silver is tricky. It may just take more of your energy, more of your connection to him.”
I didn't hesitate. "Tell me what to do."
"Put your hands on his chest, where the heart is." Miriam guided my trembling hands. "Call on your power. But be warned, child. Silver poisoning may not be similar to a regular wound. It will fight you. It will hurt."
"I don't care."
Theron's hand gripped my wrist. "Rhea, no. It's too dangerous."
"I'm not letting you die." I met his fading silver eyes. "Not when I can stop it."
Before he could try to convince me again, I closed my eyes and let myself call upon the power within. The silvery flames that had rescued us from the assassins.
And they replied.All of them came rushing up through my middle and into my hands.
But when my magic contacted the poison in Theron's veins, agony burst through me.
It was burning deep inside me. As if every single one of my nerves were being ignited.
“I gasped but I didn’t move away. Couldn't pull away.
Through our link I could sense Theron's chi. It was dimming, fluttering like a candle in the wind. And the poison was strangling it, choking it off.
I plummeted my power further in, tracing the black veins through his body. The silver flames coiled around the poison, and wrenched it from away his heart, his lungs, his brain.
But the more poison I sucked out, the more pain speared me. It was as though I somehow drew poison into myself, felt its burning agony.
"Rhea, wait," Theron's voice called from miles away. "You're killing yourself."
“So close,” I ground out, though I didn’t know if that was the case.
The poison turned against me at every movement. It was meant to kill, to bring death. It was unwilling to leave its host.
But I was stronger. I had to be stronger.
With one last effort, I tore the remainder of the poison from Theron. The silver fire around my hands blazed so brightly it lit up the entire room.
Then everything went black.
I came around gradually, piece by piece returning to consciousness.
Soft bed. Warm blanket. It smelled herbaceous and earthy.
I opened my eyes to see Theron sitting in a chair next to the bed. He appeared worn out, with bags under his eyes and messy hair. But alive. Healthy.
"You're awake," he said softly.
I attempted to sit up, but my body loudly objected. My muscles all ached as though I had been run over by horses
"Easy." Theron was at my side in a flash, lifting me to lean against the pillows. “You’ve been out two days.”
"Two days?" My voice came out hoarse.
He gave me a cup of water, and stood watching me drink it. ''Miriam told me you gave too much of yourself. Nearly died removing the poison."
"But you're alive."
"Because you saved me." Theron's expression was complicated. Grateful, angry, awed, all at once. "Again."
There was a short silence between us. I couldn’t figure out how to process so much of it, everything that had happened.
“Cassian was right,” I finally said. "They really sent assassins."
Theron nodded grimly. “They confirmed so before they ate poison. Your father sent them. Alaric wants you dead, Rhea. You’re too dangerous to him while living.”
The words shouldn't have hurt. I’d known from early on that my father was a cruel man. But to actually put hit men after his daughter.
"What about Cassian?" I asked quietly.
Theron’s jaw clenched at the sound of that name. "Still in the dungeons. His warning was what saved us, I’ll grant him that. "But that doesn’t mean I trust him.”
“”He took a gamble to warn me.
“Or it was an elaborate ruse to win our trust.” Thereon rose up, and went to the window. “Either way, for now he stays locked up.”
I looked down at my hands. I still bore faint silver on my skin, a ghost of flames. "I need to see him. Please."
Theron turned, his expression dark. "Why?"
"Because I need answers. Of what he said, of Alaric having cloaked my magic. If my father could do that, what else was he hiding?”
Theron searched my face for a long time. I saw the war in his silver eyes. Jealousy battling with understanding.
"Fine," he finally said. "But I'm coming with you."
The journey to the dungeons seemed infinite. My legs were shaky from the healing, my body still in recovery. But I refused to show it.
Theron walked beside me, not touching but within reach to catch me if I stumbled.
The dungeons were more chill than I remembered. Darker. We went down and down all the way to Cassian’s cell.
He was shackled to the wall and appeared weary. His hair was hanging in his face and his skin was bruised. But when he looked up and saw me, his whole face lit up.
"Rhea," he panted, writhing in the iron. "Thank the goddess. You're alright."
I crept forward, feeling Theron behind me. "Why?" I asked simply. "Why did you come here?”
Cassian’s silver eyes were heavy on mine. "Because I love you. I've always loved you. I couldn’t let him kill you.”
Her confession hovered in the room. I sensed Theron go rigid behind me, felt a sudden chill in the air.
"Your love sure is a funny kind of love," I spat with bitterness. "Knocking me unconscious. Dragging me back to my father.”
"I know." Cassian's voice broke. “And I will regret that every day for the rest of my life. But Alaric dangled my mother's life over me. Had I let you get away, he would have killed her.”
There was a part of me that wanted to hate him on account of that excuse. But when I saw the desperation in his face, I got it. Impossible choices. Terrible decisions. I knew all about those.
“You guys saved our lives with your warning,” I said to him. “The assassins arrived just as you said they would. Thank you."
Cassian sagged with relief. "You're really okay? The silver didn't—"
"I'm fine." Compelled by something, I wasn’t sure what, I extended my hand and touched his.
The instant my skin came into contact with hers, everything changed.
Cassian's tattoos blazed with shimmering silver. All his maze-like designs, from his arms to his chest and neck, burned bright at the same time.
The chains that bound him shattered, the silver links blowing out.
Power erupted from Cassian. Not the little-boy energy of an omega, something huge and overwhelming. Real, real alpha power that just vibrated the air.
I fell and Theron was there, slamming me behind him.
Cassian gazed at his hands, at the pulsing tattoos, the broken chains. "What..."
“No fucking way,” Theron whispered, shock and anger encapsulated in his voice.
I peered back and forth at the two, perplexed. "What's impossible?"
Theron's eyes never left Cassian. "The markings. I didn’t see them before, but now they’re glowing.” He looked toward me with grave look. "He's one of your mates too."
The words didn't make sense. "But he can't be. Cassian is an omega. He's my friend, my guard—"
"I'm not an omega." Cassian's voice was different now. Stronger. Authoritative. "I never was."
He rose all the way from the couch and I realized that he was a different person now. He was taller, moving with a poise he’d never had. The wolfish dean exuded power; there was no denying that.
“Alaric.” Cassian's face paled, and then he was starting to turn around. ”That son of a bitch shut down my alpha nature. He put me under the binding so I would stay tame, controllable.”
"That's impossible," I said. "You've been tested. Multiple times."
“It is ancient rituals,” Theron muttered. “Dark magic that could bind an alpha’s true self. It was banned centuries ago, but someone as resourceful as Alaric could handle it.”
I studied Cassian, I truly did. The glowing tattoos. His power rolled off him in waves.” The way he stood there like he’d finally found himself after all those years of being lost.
"The prophecy," I whispered. Which is the translation that I have from "Four mates to bind four bloodlines."
Theron’s grip on my arm tightened. "This complicates things."
That was an understatement.