Page 12 of Salt & Blood

Grass coated the floors, spreading until the entire throne room was covered. Thick oak trees shot up, and the glass of the chandelier tinkled in response. Prue pictured exactly what her mother had asked for: a lush forest. She thought of the beech trees of Krenia, the thick woods where she and Mona had grown up. In her mind, she heard the laughter of children as they padded, bare-footed, through the grove.

The smell of roses tickled her nose, and once again, she was painfully reminded of Mona. Despair lodged in her throat, making it hard to breathe. But instead of shying away from the emotion, she clung to it, fueling her power with it.

“That’s it, Prudence!” Gaia said, her voice full of pride.

Prue’s face crumpled, and she felt tears burn in her eyes. But she embraced it, drawing out her agony along with her power. The fractured remains of her heart and soul.

She saw the loathing in Cyrus’s eyes when he’d awoken as a human.

She heard Mona’s screams as she sacrificed herself to the dark magic that had once claimed her life.

She saw Apollo ripping the infant baby from Gaia’s arms, leaving her sobbing on the floor.

Sharp heat burned in Prue’s chest, and she groaned, hunching over as the tears spilled freely down her face. Goddess, it was too much.Too much.

She threw her head back with a scream, letting it tear at her throat, letting it pull everything from her. Only once had she allowed her magic to take this much of herself—and it had been when the caves of Tartarus were collapsing. It had been the only way to save Cyrus.

That much strain on her body had killed her.

But this time was different. This time, the castle walls trembled, and an explosion of power split the air. Glass shattered, but Prue’s magic swarmed around her, protecting her from the shards. Metal and stone cracked, making a resounding echo that clanged through the room. Dust filled the air, brushing against her skin. Still, she wept. Still, she pushed.

At long last, she fell to her knees, unable to offer any more. Her knees met soft, grassy earth, and the smell of sage and roses and jasmine filled her nose. Slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking away the tears.

It was as if she’d stepped through a portal. A canopy of tree branches had replaced the ceiling, and vines and shrubs coated the windows, cocooning her in darkness. Where the thrones once sat were now two massive oak trees. Rose bushes, beech trees, and vines of ivy lined the walls. Thick grass had completely replaced the floor.

Gaia stood in front of her, a rare smile on her face, her blue eyes gleaming with admiration. She strode toward Prue, and the grass shifted from her movement, bending to her will as the Earth Goddess. She knelt at Prue’s side, then grasped her shoulders. Prue leaned into her touch, afraid she would collapse from fatigue.

“Well done, my darling,” Gaia murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Well done.”

* * *

Prue soaked in the bath for an hour after the ordeal with her magic. Her emotions were still raw and festering inside her, as if a dam had burst, and there was no way to repair it. No way to shove the emotions back into place.

The tears wouldn’t stop flowing. Pain and misery clouded her mind, and she couldn’t breathe. Even an hour in the soapy water could not cure her of the turmoil racing through her.

She needed Cyrus. She needed her husband.

It had been days since she’d seen him. The day he’d awoken as a human, he had said terrible things to her, and even after they had confronted Apollo together, she’d been too afraid to seek him out. Not only that, but he was making himself as scarce as Apollo these days. She got the sense he was avoiding her.

Well, she had given him time. And right now, she needed her husband. Her king. Her mate.

Swallowing around the lump of grief in her throat, Prue slipped into a red silk gown and gathered her hair into a braid that fell over one shoulder. She brushed her fingers along her collarbone, lamenting the loss of that pomegranate necklace that had bound her and Cyrus together so long ago.

After brushing rouge on her lips and cheeks, she strode from her quarters, chin lifted as she projected a confidence she did not feel. The servants and staff nodded or bowed politely to her as she swept past them. In the corridors, she encountered dozens of demons flitting about, some looking as if they belonged, and others seeming confused and overwhelmed. The realm was in shambles, and her advisor, Lagos, had managed to shelter as many demons as possible before the kingdom had fallen. The castle was warded with powerful magic that had somehow managed to protect its inhabitants from Pandora’s darkness. For this, Prue was grateful, but her chest ached at the thought of the people they had not been able to save.

People who had died because of her. Becauseshehad opened Pandora’s box.

The tightness in her throat only intensified, lodging firmly in her airway until she couldn’t breathe. Heat burned in her eyes, and she barely saw where she was going, barely registered her steps moving until she found herself in front of Cyrus’s door. Originally, he had resided in the king’s suite of the castle, but Lagos had discreetly questioned the staff about the king’s whereabouts, and Prue was alarmed to discover he had moved to a guest chamber instead.

Was he not intending to stay? Or did he find himself unworthy to occupy the king’s suite?

Or worse—was he abdicating to Apollo? Could he even do that, while Prue still reigned as Queen of the Underworld?

Shoving aside these thoughts and uncertainties, Prue rapped on the door loudly, then frowned. She was hiswife.She didn’t need to knock. Her fingers reached for the door handle.

A low groan sounded from within, halting her.

Cold dread seeped into her, cinching tightly in her stomach.Oh, Goddess…

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