Page 62 of Ivy & Bone

“Stop him,” Vasileios said hoarsely, rubbing at his throat.

Six soldiers formed a wall between Vasileios and Cyrus, but Cyrus was undeterred. He elbowed one in the face, then threw his weight into another, knocking him down. Several arms grabbed him, pinning him in place. Though Cyrus thrashed, his movements were no match for the six armed men keeping him down.

“You really are an animal, aren’t you?” Vasileios asked, though his tone lacked the usual venom. “This place has turned you feral. Father would be so disappointed.”

“Mona,” Prue croaked.

Cyrus sucked in a breath, glancing over at her. She still stared at Mona as if her mind had finally registered who stood in front of her. As if the skirmish with Cyrus and his brother hadn’t even happened.

Prue took a tiny step forward, her face pleading. “Mona, is—is it really you?”

Mona blinked slowly. “It is.” Her voice was hollow and empty.

Prue inhaled a shaky breath, and Cyrus had no doubt the sound of her sister’s voice was undoing her completely. “Why? Why would you do this?”

Mona’s gaze slid to Vasileios, and something flickered in her eyes, something Cyrus couldn’t place. But it was gone before he could scrutinize it. “I don’t expect you to understand, sister.”

Prue stiffened, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. And Cyrus, who knew her well enough to discern her expressions, wondered what she’d just discovered.

“So, what, you’ll kill us?” Cyrus asked loudly. He hadn’t missed the shrewd gleam in his brother’s eyes as he’d watched the sisters’ exchange. Vasileios might have been an arrogant ass, but he was also clever.

Keep him distracted, Cyrus told himself. Keep his attention off Prue.

“As delightful as that would be, I need you in the Underworld to pass the crown to me,” Vasileios said. “The transition must be made in that realm. Not here.”

“You’re assuming I’m agreeing to hand it over.”

Vasileios’s mouth curved into a cruel smile. “You will.” He snapped his fingers, then gestured to Prue.

Two soldiers drew forward, pinning her arms to her sides. Prue yelped in alarm, glancing around in horror. “Get your hands off me!” That familiar fire blazed in her eyes, and she struggled, but her magic was still drained. She couldn’t fight them off.

“Surrender the crown,” Vasileios said, “or she—and every other mortal in this pitiful realm—will die.”

IMPOSTER

PRUE

Prue allowed the soldiers to cart her off to the dungeons. She let them toss her in unceremoniously and didn’t even flinch when they slammed the cell shut, leaving her to rot in the dank and moldy prison.

She let it all happen because she knew one thing for certain: the woman in that throne room was not Mona.

And as bizarre as it was, this knowledge sent a spark of hope burning in her chest. Prue clung to this hope with all her strength, knowing it was the only thing keeping her afloat.

Mona’s not really here. She’s not trapped in a marriage with Vasileios. He didn’t force her to consummate. She repeated the words in her mind over and over, and with each repetition, the knots in her chest eased slightly.

Vasileios had given Cyrus one day to think over his proposal. But Prue wouldn’t be surprised if the oldest prince of Hell came for her sooner. She hadn’t liked the hungry gleam in his eye . . .

Vasileios was a monster. She could see it all over his slimy expression, the smugness of his cruel face. How had she ever been repulsed by Cyrus when his brother was ten times worse?

Prue had been lying when she’d called Cyrus a vile monster in that cave. She wasn’t sure when—perhaps during the carriage ride—but at some point, she had stopped thinking of Cyrus as a monster. Compared to Vasileios, he was . . .

No. Prue slammed down the thought before it could form. Even if she weren’t in a dire situation, it was too dangerous to think of Cyrus as anything but a prince of Hell bound to her by force.

Nothing more. She couldn’t afford to assess her feelings toward him.

Even if he had fought for her in the throne room earlier . . . The memory sent a tingle of heat coursing through her.

But no, she needed to focus on Mona. If that wasn’t her sister, then who was it? And how had she possessed Mona’s body? She thought of the death shadows that had attacked Krenia when the Book of Eyes was opened the first time. The victims had been momentarily possessed, their eyes turning black, just before they died.

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