“It’s like he’s locked in a coma,” I whispered. “Unmoving. Unthinking. Asleep, but not by choice.” I poked a little harder, trying to nudge him to alertness, but his spirit remained curled into a ball, soundless and alone.
“Can you see anything around him?” Cyrus’s deep voice penetrated my thoughts, an unwelcome twinge that caused me to grimace.
I really dislike your brother, I told Exos.
No reply.
Sighing, I glanced around the depths of our connection, searching for any kind of clue as to where he was resting. “It’s too dark,” I said, shaking my head. “Like he’s underground.”
“Good. Can you smell anything? Hear anything?” Cyrus had lowered his voice into a soothing tone, one he probably thought helped, but only served to irritate me more. Introducing my fist to his face would be a remarkable experience and far more fulfilling than the slap against his cheek.
Regardless, he was right.
Exos is alive.
And knowing that settled my soul.
I sighed, content with his known existence while also worried about where he might be.
Damp.
Dark.
Dungeon.
I shook my head, not recognizing anything from the sights to the smells to the sounds. “He’s definitely underground.” My nose twitched, the scent of moss and rust apparent. The murmur of machinery followed, some sort of constant crank, and the cackle of a male voice. I pressed deeper, trying to hear more, only to be shoved out by an unseen force so heavy it sent me to the ground in a whoosh.
Cyrus grabbed me, his hands foreign on my exposed shoulders, his words gibberish over the rising volcano inside me. So hot. Too hot. I gasped, energy swimming over my skin and clawing at my being. I couldn’t discern what was happening, the inferno overtaking me until a sudden wave took me deep under water.
Choking, I sputtered, coughing up a mouthful of the sea, Cyrus’s palm a steady beat against my back.
“What the fuck?” Titus demanded.
I couldn’t stop gagging, ice suffocating me from the inside out. If Cyrus answered, I couldn’t hear him, the sounds of the ocean thick in my ears. Everything swam before me—the moon, the stars, the buildings.
Exos’s spirit brushed mine, a brief hint of concern in that soft touch, only to disappear behind a wall of ivy I couldn’t penetrate.
Someone is trying to break our link, I realized, my eyes flying open. My mouth tried for words, but all that came out was more water.
Titus was shouting.
Cyrus was hitting my back.
Chaos, I thought deliriously, trying to regain control of myself and my surroundings.
Deep breath, someone said.
I listened.
Now exhale.
I did.
Cyrus appeared above me again, his irises glowing with power and determination. His spirit felt foreign, unwelcome, his charming face one I never wanted to see again.
He smiled as if hearing my thoughts, his thumb brushing over my cheek. Only then did I realize I was in his lap, cradled against him like a baby.
Ugh. Not where I wanted to be. At all. I tried to squirm, but his arms were too strong, his grasp harsh.