Page 57 of The Chosen Son

“Cameron!” I shouted, reaching for him, but I was too far away. Phobos was closer, but as broken as he was, there was no chance.

And just like that, he was gone.

“No!” I ran toward the crevice, falling to my knees as I reached the edge. The ground wasn’t stable. I could feel the soil threatening to cave in further, and I didn’t want anything to fall on him—if he was still alive. “Cameron!” I shouted into the abyss. I strained my ears to listen for a reply, but there was nothing. Not a single rustle, no whimper or moan.

Phobos crawled over beside me, and together, we inched close enough to peer over the edge into blackness. “Where is he?” I asked, desperate. “Can you see him?”

“No…” He sounded strange, and when I looked over, I was shocked at just how bad he looked. His eyes were nearly swollen shut, his skin purple and blue wherever it wasn’t covered in blood. Had I really done that?

“Phobos, I—”

He shook his head. “Not now. There will be time for apologies later. Right now, we need to get Cameron out of there.”

I could’ve climbed down, but the soil wouldn’t hold my weight. What we needed was Phobos’s flight, but he was simply too weak and broken. “What if… I healed you?” I asked, reaching for him.

“Don’t you need your precious power to beat Loki?” he snarked bitterly.

I didn’t hesitate to say, “Nothing is more important than Cameron.” It was the one thing we both agreed on.

Pushing Cameron’s power out from my body was an entirely different experience, like trying to mold clay after it had hardened. It wasn’t euphoric; it was agony. Instead of pleasure, it was searing, violent pain. I groaned, fighting against my instincts telling me to keep all this power for myself. My stomach threatened to spill its contents, but I kept at it, forcing my brother’s wounds to mend, his cuts to stitch shut. Before my very eyes, he was made whole.

No surprise, healing took more energy than destruction because it was precise instead of wild and chaotic. I took care with him, and when I was done, only a handful of minutes had passed, and my brother was looking much better. Except all the blood, of course, but we would deal with that later. Right now, we had more important matters to attend to.

“Okay, I’ll fly down and bring him back up. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful with him.” He looked almost sick, his eyes glassy with unshed tears, and for once, I didn’t feel the urge to mock him for his weakness. I felt it too.

I gripped his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “I trust you, Brother.”

He nodded once. “I’ll bring him back to you.” What condition he would be in was another matter.

I stood back, well clear of the ravine’s edge, and watched as Phobos hovered a few feet above me then disappeared into the ground. I grew lightheaded the longer I was forced to wait and forced myself tobreathe, my fists clenched tight at my sides. Too much time passed before I heard him call up. “I’ve got him!” He sounded deeper than I could’ve imagined, and a sob was wrenched from my chest.

Slowly, inch by inch, Phobos appeared, until I caught my first sight of Cameron cradled in his arms, and I swore my heart stopped beating. He was entirely limp, his head tipped back, arms and legs dangling uselessly. And when Phobos lowered him gently to the ground in front of me, my eyes went to his chest, all too aware that it was not rising with his breath.

“No,” I choked out, tears spilling down my cheeks.

Somewhere behind me a door opened, shoes clicking across the stone, but I didn’t bother to turn. I picked up Cameron’s hand, too cold, and convinced myself that I could still feel him inside. He had to be okay! I couldn’t lose him!

“What the hell have you done to my city hall?” a voice said, full of derision and disgust.

Loki. Because of course that fucker was here to rub salt in the wound.

Dredging up the last remnants of power, I set Cameron’s hand down and shot to my feet, rounding on Loki. “This is allyourfault!” I seethed, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and dragging him up to his tiptoes. It gave me obscene pleasure to be a few inches taller than he was. “If you hadn’t stolen my lover, I never would’ve tried to get revenge, never would’ve met Cameron in the first place, and he would be alive right now!”

He scoffed, loosening himself from my grip and brushing the wrinkles from his silk shirt. “Sorry, who are you?”

“What the hell do you mean, who am I? I’m Deimos! You stole Gorgias from me!”

He blinked those damn blue eyes at me, raising a blond eyebrow. “Should I know who that is?”

“My lover!” I could feel my pulse throbbing in my temples, and all I wanted was for Loki to go away. I wanted to grieve in private, not have him standing there giving his conceited narrative.

“I’ve stolen a lot of lovers. How can I be expected to remember all their names?”

The fight drained straight out of me. After all these years, planning for the day when I would finally stand here, face to face, to enact my revenge, and he didn’t even care enough to fight back! I’d been under the impression that it was personal, that he was my archnemesis, but he didn’t even know my name. Now here I was, about to shoot my shot, and I felt… nothing.

I blew out a long sigh, my shoulders sagging. “Look, can you just go away and let us mourn in peace?”

“Mourn? What’s the big deal? He’ll be fine, just give him a minute.”

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