Page 88 of The Coven of Ruin
That was news to Ares. Neither of them had mentioned actually discovering something.
“Trista?” Medusa questioned, her velvet voice forming the letters of the witch’s name as if it were hope.
Medusa’s naming of the witch conjured her in his mind’s eye. Her unruly honeyed curls framing her bespeckled face. Violet magic setting her sun-kissed flesh aglow. Wild and bold in her chamber, standing too close to him, with an unspoken demand on her tongue.
Fuck.
Fighting her way through mages to get to him, hand out, reaching for him. She had trusted him to get to her. She could have fled, left the hall, but she had come back forhim. And he had failed.
Foolish witch.
“She’s a feisty and clever witch,” Grae explained, “that Ares happens to have a history with.”
Medusa looked between him and Grae. “And where is she?”
Grae cleared his throat, his grin fading. It didn’t take long for Medusa to understand as she gave a single nod in reply.
“Perhaps we can have a drink while we speak,” Brune rumbled as he took a seat and looked expectantly at the others.
Ares silently thanked his perceptive brother as Grae and Medusa moved to join him. While the other three settled in, Ares left them to it. He needed a moment alone and didn’t want to hear Grae’s optimism while he discussed whatever possible cure he had discovered.
Even though this was the first time he had been in his hall for more than a quick refit in moons, he was restless. Every moment that passed was another moment the enemy had to gain the advantage. If Apollo didn’t come within the next hour, he was returning to Witch Country regardless of Zeus’ orders. Prophecy changed nothing.
The decision to run was an instinctive one, an uncomplicated way to quiet his mind and work through his thoughts. He did an easy lap around his training yard just as the suns started to set. He pushed harder, wanting to feel the pain in his lungs and legs.
Is she still alive?Fury spurred him.Are they torturing her?
He shook the imagery of her broken and bleeding from his mind. She hadn’t wanted to be powerless. He knew that would be exactly how she was feeling, though.If she was still alive.Pushing it all down with every harder and faster step, he buried it until he felt nothing but a quiet and focused rage.
And still, she took shape in his mind, a haunting reminder of his failure.
Just as he made his seventh lap, Apollo appeared, a bright form in the otherwise dark landscape of the field. Ares slowed to a jog, then a walk as he approached him.
“Good evening,” Apollo greeted, overly formal.
Ares inclined his head. “What is the news?”
“They have nothing as of now. But they will keep me apprised of any developments. They are also going to contact some of the others that are more closely involved in the mortal realm. The Oracluum has been silent, but I’ll see what I can do there.”
Ares’ jaw flexed as an annoyed hum left him. They had wasted so much time waiting for nothing. “Understood,” he said, passing the other god.
“Ares.”
The way he sang his name made him pause.
“They did mention something about you.”
He looked over his shoulder at the god, but it was the troubled expression creasing his pristine features that made him say, “I care not for my fate.”
The other god’s lips formed a tight line. “Be careful,” Apollo warned but Ares had no intention of being anything other than his namesake—utterly ruinous.
Chapter XXXVIII
Zyanawassick.Tristacould see it in the graying pallor of her skin and her sluggish movements despite her claiming otherwise. Without access to their magic, their bodies couldn’t heal like they would usually. When within the span of hours, Zyana’s chest moved shallowly with her breaths, her skin became clammy, and she refused to eat anything, Trista called for a guard. If she had thought she was overreacting, the witch’s lack of protest only confirmed how dire her condition was.
When a guard finally stepped through the entryway, he snarled at her to shut up.
“I demand to see Thel.” Despite the sinking feeling of dread, her voice came out strong and assertive.
