Page 79 of Ivy & Bone

Cyrus suddenly stopped short, and Prue almost crashed into him. She staggered and jumped back a step. “What’s wrong? What is it?”

“I . . . I just . . .” Cyrus ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve been here before.”

Prue followed his gaze, peering around him to see what awaited them at the bottom of the hill. She squinted, trying to make out the details of what appeared to be a pile of rubble. Upon further scrutiny, she realized it was the remains of a house. The charred edges indicated it had probably burned down years ago.

Prue glanced at Cyrus, whose face had gone pale. “It would make sense,” she said quietly. “If the Book of Eyes is bound to you, it would stand to reason it would choose a place you’re familiar with.”

Cyrus’s eyes flickered with some unreadable emotion. Prue touched his arm and squeezed. “I’m here,” she reminded him.

Cyrus turned to look at her, his eyes wild and frenzied as if he couldn’t quite remember where he was. Or who he was. In that moment, he looked so lost and confused that Prue just wanted to wrap him in her arms. But she knew him, and coddling wouldn’t help. Instead, she held his gaze, forcing a fierce determination she didn’t quite feel. She lifted her chin, challenging him.

Remember who you are, she thought. You are a god.

Something flickered in his eyes, and his silver irises gleamed in recognition. He inhaled deeply, and, to Prue’s surprise, he seized her and kissed her. Thoroughly. His tongue slid between her lips, his arms encircling her until their bodies seemed to meld together. She all but wilted in his arms, caught off guard and wholly claimed by his mouth.

When he released her, she gasped for breath, staring at him. Fire burned in his eyes, bringing that fearsome intensity she knew so well.

“Thank you, Prue,” he murmured.

Prue could only gape at him. She tried not to see this as a goodbye kiss, but that was exactly what it felt like.

They strode down the road, hand in hand, for all the world appearing as a couple on a stroll. Cyrus’s palm felt cool and clammy against her skin, and she wondered what was going through his head. Was he nervous? Or was this place bringing up unwanted memories?

Should she have any reason to be concerned?

As they approached the ruins, a low thrumming pulsed in the air, making Prue’s bones quiver. She drew in a breath, determined to be strong—if not for Cyrus, then for herself—as they drew nearer. The intensity of the pulsing burned in Prue’s ears, and she bit down hard to keep her teeth from chattering. Judging by Cyrus’s tight grip on her fingers, he felt it, too.

Despite the quivering energy around them, Prue focused instead on her sister. She was so close . . . So close to achieving her goal, to bringing Mona back. The thought sent a spark of hope through her heart, blotting out her fear.

She could do this. They could do this.

And perhaps, since Mona’s body was already in the mortal realm, all Prue would have to do was find her soul and bring it back. Maybe she could achieve her goal without sacrificing herself.

A tendril of warmth spread through her chest as she thought of enjoying a life with Cyrus. A life with love. With her sister. Everything she desired.

They halted at where Prue assumed the entrance had once been. She recognized the crumbled remains of pillars and archways, the echoes of what had undoubtedly been an elegant edifice long ago.

Cyrus stiffened next to her, and a low growl rumbled in his throat. Alarmed, Prue’s head whipped around, searching for danger. Her magic swelled in her chest, and her third eye blinked open.

Only then did she sift out the other presence. Amidst the incessant reverberation of the mighty power of the Book of Eyes, Prue sensed something . . . else. Something deadly and familiar.

“Vasileios,” Cyrus bit out, his nostrils flaring.

But it wasn’t just Vasileios. Layered beneath his foul death magic was a floral scent Prue knew all too well.

Mona. Or, at least, her imposter. The thing wearing her sister’s body.

Anger surged in Prue’s chest. But she was grateful for it. It burned away any trace of fear or anxiety, and she could feel that same determined fury roiling off Cyrus as well.

Wrath was their ally. And Prue clung to it.

“We’re stronger than he is,” Prue murmured. She wasn’t sure if she was reassuring herself or Cyrus. “You and I are bonded, and he’s not. Not fully.” Again, she thought of that shadow parading around in Mona’s skin, and a fresh wave of rage rose up inside her.

Vasileios was using Mona as a puppet. And he would pay for it.

Cyrus turned to look at her, and though the glance was brief, the scorching fire in his eyes made her own blood sing. In his eyes, the silver irises seemed to melt like molten steel, consuming her entirely.

His power and fury had once alarmed her, even intimidated her. But now, in this moment, she finally acknowledged that it drew her in, inviting her for more. She’d fought it ever since she’d met him, but after last night, she’d embraced that fury. It was hers now, too.

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