Page 2 of Ivy & Bone

“You know, don’t you?” Aidoneus asked.

“Know what?” Cyrus’s eyebrows lifted, and he raised his hands in exasperation. “Where Leonidas is? No. Please enlighten me. If he’s abandoned his post again, he’ll be soundly punished for it.”

Aidoneus smirked as if he could see right through Cyrus’s bravado. “Leonidas is with Marcellus and Vasileios. The three of them felt it, too.”

Marcellus and Vasileios. The former was a warrior that Cyrus had humiliated upon gaining his power. The latter was the previous heir to the throne, whose crown Cyrus had taken by force.

If the three brothers who loathed Cyrus the most were convening, that couldn’t be good.

“Your magic is hiding the truth from you.” Aidoneus’s eyes turned serious. “Be careful of that.”

“Like I would believe anything you say,” Cyrus sneered. “When did you ever give a damn about me and my magic?”

Sorrow stirred in Aidoneus’s gaze, and for a moment, Cyrus caught a glimpse of regret. But it was gone in an instant.

“Consider this a warning.” Aidoneus drew closer. He still dwarfed Cyrus, but the feeble amount of power emanating from his father made him seem pathetic and small. How had this pitiful god ever possessed enough power to rule?

“Mutiny is upon you, my son,” Aidoneus murmured, his eyes flashing. “And you best be ready for it when it arrives. Your brothers have been waiting for the perfect opportunity to usurp you.”

“And that’s now?” Cyrus asked coldly, his eyes narrowing. Even if his brothers were uniting against him, there was no way they could match his power. They had tried before—and failed.

In the Underworld, Cyrus was the only being with enough magic to wound another god. None other had such power.

He could kill them all. And they knew it. For so long, that threat had kept order in the Underworld.

“Seek the answers you need from your magic,” Aidoneus said. “You are still bound to the mortal realm, Cyrus. And things are changing up there.”

“How do you know this?” A surge of fear welled up inside Cyrus. What if his father spoke the truth?

“I did not make the same fatal bargain you did. I still have a leash on my magic. But you—you gave up your soul for more power. That comes with a price. You are the one on a leash. Have a care before it pulls you in a direction you do not want to go.”

Cyrus’s nostrils flared. “Don’t you dare lecture me as if you have some great wisdom to impart on me, Aidoneus. You were never a father to me. And you never will be.”

That same strange sorrow flickered in Aidoneus’s eyes once more. “I know.”

Cyrus blinked. He hadn’t expected that response. He clenched his teeth, his gaze dropping to the foggy contents of the river. “What are you doing to Acheron?”

Aidoneus smiled, but it lacked warmth. It was a sharp curve of his mouth and a mischievous glint in his eyes. “This will always be your domain, my son. Even if you have claimed the throne of Styx, your essence is tethered to this river because it is your origin. Your connection here is the only thing keeping you in the Underworld. Otherwise, that cursed book would yank you to the land of the living, trapping you there permanently.”

Cyrus’s brows lowered. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

Aidoneus looked positively smug now. “I am poisoning it.”

Anger and alarm burned in Cyrus’s chest until he couldn’t breathe. In an explosion of flames, Cyrus struck his father down. Aidoneus raised his hands to deflect the blow, but Cyrus’s magic was stronger. Far stronger. Aidoneus groaned and sank to one knee, his wispy black smoke pitiful compared to Cyrus’s all-consuming fire.

Cyrus pushed harder, prepared to shove his father into the poisoned river just to see how he fared. But he faltered when he realized Aidoneus was laughing.

“You’re too late,” Aidoneus said hoarsely. Sweat poured down his face, and his arms quivered from the effort of holding Cyrus’s power at bay. Even so, amusement danced in his eyes, and it only infuriated Cyrus further.

“Why?” Cyrus bit out, baring his teeth.

“When the poison takes effect,” Aidoneus said, “This river will dry up. The souls will be destroyed. And the anchor binding you to the Underworld will deteriorate. You’ll have nowhere left to go except the mortal realm.”

Cyrus gritted his teeth so tightly his head throbbed. With a swift movement, he slashed his hands through the air, cutting off his flames. Aidoneus crumpled, clutching at the gash Cyrus had carved in his gut. Silver blood oozed, pooling onto the grass and mingling with the souls in the river.

“You’re lying,” Cyrus growled.

“I’m not. And you know it.” Despite his labored breathing, Aidoneus’s mouth stretched into a lethal grin. “This realm will descend into chaos. And you won’t be here to maintain control.”

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