Page 28 of Ivy & Bone

“The human realm!”

“Just call it that.”

“No.” Prue sliced her hand through the air, cutting him off. “If you’re going to travel with me through this realm, you’re going to respect how we humans do things. And for starters, we are named after the earth goddess Gaia. She blessed us with these lands. I don’t give a shit what you and your stupid brothers believe in, but that’s what this realm believes in.”

Cyrus opened his mouth to argue, but she interrupted again.

“Second,” she said, her voice rising, “we believe in justice according to the monarch of said lands. If you believe someone has committed a grievous crime—more grievous than a mere insult or whisper of gossip—then you report him to the proper authorities instead of exacting punishment yourself. Understand?”

Rage burned in his chest at her patronizing tone. “I am a god—”

“And that’s another thing,” she said, talking over him again. “You can’t go around parading yourself as the god of the Underworld. It will cause mass chaos. Let’s make this journey as seamless as possible, without drawing too much attention. We’ll get you back to your world, and everything will continue as it was before.” She spread her arms, her eyes distant as if she were convincing herself more than him.

Silence fell between them. Cyrus crossed his arms, summoning all his restraint not to take her by the throat, too. Instead, he watched her, eyebrows raised in expectation.

Prue finally looked at him, recoiling at the fire in his eyes. “What?”

“Is that all?” Cyrus asked.

“I—well, yes. I think so.”

“Good. Now it’s my turn. I will respect your foolish demands if you respect mine. I will tell whoever I like that you are my wife because it is the truth. I don’t enjoy deceiving anyone, even pathetic humans like that weasel you just let go.”

“But—”

Cyrus drew closer to her and growled, “I’m. Not. Finished.”

Prue’s mouth clamped shut. He expected her to argue, but something in his face must’ve startled her into silence. Sweet, blessed silence.

“Second, I am a god. An immortal being. I don’t belong here and I don’t want to be here. Let’s not forget you summoned me against my will and trapped me here. So, I will abide by your rules if you abide by mine. No more tying me up. No more dragging me around like a prisoner. You will treat me with the respect I deserve instead of treating me like your worthless servant.” He spat the words, recalling the days when his brothers treated him the same way. “Are we understood?”

Prue’s lips grew thin, her eyes raging at him. “Perfectly,” she said through gritted teeth.

For one tense moment, they stared at each other with venom and loathing. The power rippling off her made Cyrus grateful he stood much taller than her, otherwise he’d be tempted to cower from the force of it.

Prue broke eye contact first. With a disgusted huff, she turned and stormed away from him.

Well, so much for wooing her, Cyrus thought bitterly. At this rate, it would be a miracle if they didn’t rip out each other’s throats before they reached Faidon.

At her retreat, Cyrus exhaled heavily, deflating from the pressure of asserting himself against that much magic. He wasn’t even sure she’d noticed the glowing cords of gold magic trailing after her.

Prue and Cyrus skillfully avoided one another until they finally reached their destination: the kingdom of Murane. Cyrus knew nothing about this place other than what he’d seen on the map—a mountain range separated it from the Thanassian Empire, which was where Faidon was.

Cyrus followed Prue and the other passengers as they disembarked the vessel. The port was far different from the one in the Salwaki Islands. The islands had been minimal but full of life, a bustling hub of activity and culture. But this place was massive and overwhelming. Several docked ships surrounded them, and hordes of people rushed this way and that as if they were in a hurry and couldn’t be bothered to slow their pace. The women wore elegant gowns while the men wore expensive suits and smoked cigars. The area reeked of wealth and self-importance, so much that Cyrus wrinkled his nose.

These humans thought they knew power and authority, but they were clueless. Every single one of them.

Prue kept shooting nervous glances at the sky, where several wispy ghosts floated about, roaming aimlessly. After a while, Cyrus murmured to her, “Don’t worry. No one can see them.”

“I know.” But Prue bit her lip, glancing upward again as if expecting the ghosts to suddenly dive down and devour her. “But . . . why aren’t they attacking?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“They are drawn to powerful magic. Otherwise, they’re harmless. I imagine there aren’t many witches or mages in the city. Or, if there are, they are keeping to themselves.”

Prue’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. A wrinkle formed between her brows, and her frown remained.

As they walked, several eyes fixed on Cyrus, widening in alarm at the stark color of his hair and eyes, along with the tattoo markings all along his body. But, thankfully, none of their gazes drifted to the horns atop his head. Which meant the glamour from the Underworld was doing its job, thank the gods. Just like with the ghosts, these mortals were clueless about what truly lurked around them.

“Come on,” Prue said stiffly, tugging on his arm. She was clearly unperturbed by the disgusted glances the other women shot her, no doubt offended by her torn and stained skirts. “We’re only staying in Voula City for long enough to get supplies, and then we’re moving on.”

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