Page 166 of An Empress of Fire & Steel

He had been ready for a while. He was going to ask her to be his wife and join him in the merging of their souls, combining two into one; not just because it was an ancient tradition or because he needed power from the witches, but because he wanted her and he would never stop wanting her.

He would always want her. It would always be her, no one else.

Emara Clearwater.

He was just so glad to have retrieved the ring he had given Magin before the hunter’s body had been cleared. After arriving back home, he had placed his mother’s ring back into a drawer in his room so that he could collect it when Emara was better. Maybe he would even take her somewhere nice, somewhere in the city.

The door flew open, causing him to stand to attention, and Viktir Blacksteel hurried over the threshold. The coldness of his eyes made Torin’s spine straighten.

“I thought you might be here,” his commander said in a way that sounded both annoyed anddismissive.

He hadn’t seen his father in a while. Viktir hadn’t even bothered to attend the winter solstice festivities, the miserable bastard. But Torin had tried to keep his distance where possible. He couldn’t stand to be around his father.

Torin sent a look Gideon’s way, a look that both brothers knew well.

What’s going on?

The glance Gideon threw back was one that he knew well too.

I have no idea.

“Commander Blacksteel,” Torin said, taking the plunge to break the ice.

“Torin.” Viktir looked around the room and not at him.

Naya finished what she had been doing with Emara and rose from the bed.

“Do you have something to say?” Torin glared. “Or did you just come for a visit?”

The commander’s smile was the same as it had always been, without any warmth, the complete opposite of Naya’s.

“I don’t have time for visits that don’t mean something,” he announced, walking a little further into the room. “I have been extremely busy informing the prime of why my son would cut off the head of the highest-ranking witch to grace this fine kingdom.” He stood, his feet shoulder-width apart, his hand always hovering close to his weapon belt.

Too close.

Torin’s eyes narrowed. “Then I hope you didn’t leave out any detail on how she was trying to summon the Dark One, using dark magic, and turning our own faction members against us.” Torin sneered. “I also hope you informed the prime that you knew of the change in hierarchy in the nine realms of the underworld.” He tilted his head. “Pray tell me, father, did you tell them that? Because you seemed to have forgotten to inform your second-in-command.”

Viktir should have told him that Balan had been named keeper of the underworld. Rumours had been circling years ago, but nothing had ever come of it. If there had been truth to it, they should have been informed.

Veles is not the King of the Underworld, my blue-eyed boy, Balan is. Your father really should update you more in those inefficient briefings of yours. Whilst Veles rests, Balan will reign.

Viktir let out a cruel hissing sound.

Gideon flinched.

Viktir’s teeth ground together, his features sharpening. “You have no idea what you are talking about, boy.”

“Thanks to you.” Torin lifted his chin. “You have left us blind, time and time again. First with the wards, and now this. What’s next? Did you know our men were looking for immortality? Have you switched sides to the dark?”

Viktir growled, squaring his shoulders.

“Enough.” Naya took a step away from Emara’s bedside. “I will not have this in here. Need I remind all of you”—she looked from her husband to her boys—“that the Empress of Air is recovering from horrific injuries and needs her rest? Her recovery doesn’t need to be plagued with hunter politics.”

Viktir turned, facing his wife, and Torin’s fist twitched at the way his father scowled at her.

“The message I have come to deliver is for the benefit of all of you.” Viktir looked from Emara to Gideon, and then to Torin. His stare lingered a little longer before he dragged it from Torin’s face. “So why not kill three birds with one stone?”

“Viktir, what possible matters must concern an empress in recovery?” his mother asked, her facial features changing.

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