Page 122 of The Powers of Nyx

ADRIAN

THElongest week of my life. I knew this set-up would be hard on all of us, but fuck, I hadn’t expected it to hurt so much. The feeling of hopelessness seemed to grow the longer I waited for her to return.

I just had to remind myself that I would be her personal mentor soon, and in the meantime, my presence was needed here.

And I’d much rather be with the children, over going to meet my mother and father for lunch.

The elevator doors opened, and for the first time since we returned to Avalon, the halls were alive with workers. There had always been a large staff at the palace, but with my mother’s deteriorating health, the workforce had been cut down to only a few trusted families. But now, there were planners and decorators everywhere, and my stomach twisted.

The Nyx Ball. It was fast approaching and would likely change the game. Ivy would have to be announced as the Daughter of Nyx, as was tradition. I doubted even my mother could hide that. It meant powerful creatures from all the realms, converging in one place, all with the same hope: finding their mate, if they hadn’t done so already.

The chances of Ivy finding another mate was high. I vaguely knew there had been tension between my mother’s other mates when my father and Magnus had come into the picture. Afterover three hundred years of having my mother to themselves, it had been a hard transition. But they’d worked it out.

I knew we would too, when the time came, as hard as it might be. The dynamic would change, I understood that better than anyone else.

I walked the halls unnoticed, the staff too busy with their tasks to recognise me. It didn’t take me long to reach the large walkway between the main palace and the Queen’s wing. The set up was similar to the guest suites we were currently living in, though rather than different floors with apartments, the entire building across from me was designed for the Queen and her mates. I’d done the walk a thousand times, and yet I found myself hesitating at the end of the hall. The guards were heavily geared, their weapons at the ready. I recognised a few from my childhood, and some from my time at the Phoenix Compound.

Where there used to be six lining the bridge, there were now at least two dozen. They were a mixture of different creatures, but all powerful. It made my stomach twist, wondering whether my mother truly believed herself to be in this much danger.

And it pissed me off, knowing we didn’t have half the number of guards on our floor.

Squaring my shoulders, I stalked the length of the bridge, barely feeling the protective charms roll over my skin. There were hundreds woven together like a net over the wing, and yet I felt only a hint of them. The guards didn’t stop or check me. But I recognised my father’s magic in the charms; they tingled over my skin, checking me for any of my own that might be a threat.

The doors to my mother’s wing opened, and an attendant bowed their head as I entered the main foyer. There were grand stairs leading up to the next floor and in between them, an elevator. The entire main floor of the wing was for formalities, despite the fact my mother rarely let anyone other than our family into the wing.

My stomach bottomed out, and I hesitated. So many memories came rushing back; of midnight escapades with Lyra when we were children running through these same halls. Of my father, after being told not to, teaching me how to rollerblade on the marble and almost cracking a tooth after falling.

There were fond memories here, and harder ones. Like realising my mother’s other mates cared little for the children that weren’t their own. That my mother allowed it.

I couldn’t imagine that. Hating the children born of Ivy and her other mates. The idea of disregarding a child because they had been born not of my seed made me ill. I wouldn’t be able to hate the sibling of my own kid, whether it be Rowan’s or the bastard mystery mate’s.

That was a life I feared.

Sighing, I moved through the wing, finding no one else around. Unlike the rest of the palace, there was a coldness, a quiet that chilled me to the bone. Once, it had been alive. Now, it resembled a tomb.

One thing I never doubted was my mother’s love for her children. As I walked the hall towards the large kitchen, I stopped to take in the hundred or so photos and paintings. There were two large pieces done with all of us, and surrounding them, little photographs; some black and white, others grainy. But they all revealed when in time they’d been captured, highlighting moments throughout the lives of my siblings.

There were a few of me and Lyra from our childhood. Being the youngest, I always thought time would reveal we were the forgotten ones, but that hadn’t been the case at all. The twins, Falena and Esmeray, were in most of ours, too. I spied some of Sylvia and I with our father, of Griffon and me. Dante at one of his parties. Group shots when we were all home.

“There you are.”

I jumped and turned to find my father standing at the end of the hall, with a wide smile on his face. “Sorry, I got caught up with all of—this.” I motioned to the photos, a lump forming in my throat as he joined me.

“You should take a few,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder. “Your siblings will be stopping by over the next week or so to take what they want.”

I nodded slowly. “It would be nice to have some for my room,” I admitted, turning to him. “Sorry to keep you and Mom waiting.”

Dad shrugged, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “It’s all right. Your mother wants to spend as much time with you all before…” He trailed off. The sentence didn’t need to be finished for me to understand what he meant.

Before she returned to Nyx.

Death was too easy of a word to describe what would happen to my mother. It was more than death. It was a complete dissolution of her physical body as her magic finally transitioned into Ivy. There would be nothing left of her when it was done.

He guided me towards the kitchen. “Will anyone else be joining us?” I asked.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Just you, me, and your mother.” We entered the kitchen, and I frowned at the few plates gathered on one of the counters. “Here, take these. I was going to take the rest up myself. We’ll be eating in your mother’s sitting room.”

I didn’t argue; taking the plates from him, we didn’t speak as we made our way towards the service elevator in the butler’s pantry. The kitchen on the main floor was large, opulent, and meant for kitchen staff, and the service elevator allowed them to take meals to the dining room unseen.

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