“Just be careful, Kairoth. If the gods get free and you’re not prepared for what comes next, it could be the end of us all.” She paused. “Did you ever seek out those shadows? The ones who might know where Bathalous is?”
Fuck. I hadn’t. I’d planned on it. Then I went after Bellamy instead. I’d already wasted too much time. If Bathalous was out there, I needed to go find him. I looked back into Bellamy’s room, her limp form lying on the bed.
“Go,” Goji said. “We’ll take good care of her. You have to focus on your mission, Master.”
With that, she flew away, leaving me with nothing but her warning ringing through my head.
Chapter Forty-Three
BELLAMY
Idied. I didn’t know what happened or where I was, but it was the only explanation for why I kept seeing my brothers. Not in their swan forms, but as humans. This time, we were in my room in Kairoth’s castle. I lay in the plush four-poster bed, blankets tucking me in while my brothers gathered around, staring at me with concern in their eyes. It was the same every time I’d seen them. I couldn’t speak. I was a spectator. I was here but not here.
“She’s dying,” Ryder roared, that vein in his temple throbbing like it always did when he got heated.
Jorah lay a hand on Ryder’s shoulder. “And you yelling about it isn’t helping, brother.”
Ryder swatted Jorah’s hand away. “She’s dying and there not a fucking thing we can do to help her.”
“This isn’t how it’s going to end,” Phoenix said from where he leaned against the wall. “It can’t be.”
As always, Solomon sat by my side, holding my hand, a comforting presence.
Dying? They kept saying I was dying, but I was almost certain I was already dead.
The twins both sat on the floor by Phoenix, legs sticking out, both of them silent and morose. Marcello stood frozen just staring at me. My charming, flirtatious brother a ghost of his former self.
“Let’s end this,” Ryder said. “If she pulls through, we end this. If she doesn’t, we end this. Finally.”
“What are you suggesting?” Jorah crossed his arms, moonlight illuminating his shoulder-length golden hair.
Ryder shoved a hand through his wavy brown hair. “You know damn well what I’m suggesting.”
“Let’s not be hasty.” Phoenix tugged one of his blond curls.
“I’m ready,” Killian said from where he sat on the floor. “We’ve been in this cursed existence for almost sixty years. This isn’t a life. We might as well be dead.”
“Especially if we’re risking Bell’s life,” his twin added from next to him.
With horror, I realized what they were saying. They were going to end their own lives. No. No, they couldn’t. I was close. So close. I opened my mouth to protest, but I was weak. So weak.
“I’m ready,” Marcello said with a nod, puffing his chest. I missed his smile. I so desperately wanted to see it, see those dimples that he always claimed made all the girls fall at his feet.
“That’s not what Bell would want,” Solomon said from my side, his voice quiet but firm. “She’s worked so hard to free us.”
“At the expense of her life,” Ryder practically growled.
Soloman squeezed my hand tighter, then let go and stood, coming face-to-face with Ryder. He was shorter, slighter, would never beat Ryder in a physical fight, but that didn’t make him back down.
“Shouldn’t we take our sister’s wishes into consideration? She would never agree to this. She’d never want us to end our lives. We’d be leaving her alone.”
“Not alone,” Jorah said. “She’d still have Father.”
My breath caught in my throat at the mention of our father. They knew he was alive. I didn’t know how. I hadn’t even known he was alive until right before I left the Wilds.
Marcello frowned. “Father might as well be dead.”
“Marcello!” Phoenix scolded.
