Aeris smiled, reaching forward to tuck a curl behind Quill’s ear. “Just a little is perfectly acceptable.” She turned to me. “Mind if I put this place back together before someone else falls in this pit?”
“We’re not going to take a beat to figure out how it?—”
The door slammed open. And not one, but two giant, furious men stood there, staring down at the cavern in the floor. Thorne’s face was glorious, honestly. Filled with anger as his eyes traced his damaged home. I hoped it hurt him to stand there and see the destruction because it was nothing compared to the damage he’d done to my heart.
My power surged at the sight of him, the Remnants hissing curses. But the shadows hadn’t come. Be it from my own exhaustion or the shock of what’d happened, I had no idea. The burn was still there, the bands on my wrists, forever circling. Reminding me I belonged to Alastor now, and he was calling.
“What the fuck did you do to my house, Aeris?”
The goddess stood, shifting backward, clearly realizing Thorne hadn’t come to play nice today. “This wasn’t me. I fixed your knocker,” her eyes slid to me, “and promptly put it back. I’m happy to erase the mess for you, Keeper, if you wish.”
Thorne’s hands turned to fists at his sides. Tuck, the godsdamned carriage driver of all people, had to pull him back. “He wishes it,” he said, shaking his head. Carriage driver wasn’t really fair. He’d sacrificed himself to the prince’s Cimmerians to keep my identity secure. He’d helped guide the Fray and last I knew, he was working to keep the little, old king safe. Tuck was good. A kind man.
“Very well.” Aeris’s magic filled the space in a wave of heat that ripped the breath from my lungs, and the destruction began to reverse itself. The gaping hole in the floor closed. Shards of crystal rose from the ground, reforming into the chandelier which reattached itself to the ceiling. Torn wallpaper smoothed out, erasing all signs of damage.
Within moments, the entryway looked exactly as it had before, pristine and untouched. The only evidence that anything had happened was the shell-shocked expressions on our faces and Archer’s grunt as he lifted himself off the floor.
Thorne’s fury seemed to dissipate slightly as he took in the restored room, but his eyes remained hard as they locked onto me. “What happened?”
I met his gaze steadily, refusing to flinch under the weight of his anger. “All the questions and no answers. What a pity. Must be rough.”
“Paesha—”
Quill snatched my hand. “Don’t you say her name. Don’t even look at her.”
He didn’t argue. Shockingly. Instead, he stepped to the side so Tuck could enter. The massive man stroked a hand down his scarred face, scanning Archer from head to toe. “What in the hell did you do to yourself, Archie?”
“He saved me,” Quill answered. “Who are you?”
“The name’s Tuck.”
“Oh, you’re the carriage driver,” she said, eyes a little too keen as they scanned the burly man. Probably shouldn’t have referred to him as that.
“Something like that,” he chuckled. “You must be the kid.”
“There’re lots of kids here.”
“Fair point. Any idea which one of them put a hole in the floor?” he asked, looking up to Briony who’d walked in with a baby on her hip.
“One minute we were sleeping, the next there was screaming, and the house was shaking. Don’t ask me. This is not what I signed up for.”
“Oh, Thorne didn’t warn you?” I asked. “Nothing is as it seems where he’s concerned.”
“Don’t,” he said, stepping toward me.
“He is a god, after all.”
His eyes narrowed. “Paesha, stop.”
“You don’t get to control me.”
I turned to Briony. “Did you know? I’m assuming you didn’t.”
“Know what?” she asked, eyes glossing over.
“You really are a piece of shit,” I said, whipping back to Thorne, “Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.”
He stepped closer and immediately my heart began to race. “And who’s going to stop me, Paesha darling? You? Archie?”
