Page 55 of Salt & Blood

Cyrus stared at her, his eyes hard and unyielding.

Prue raised her eyebrows. “You said it yourself. We have to do it. You can’t just rely on luck and good timing when we fight him.”

With a sigh, Cyrus drew closer and slowly brought his palm to hers.

Nothing happened.

Prue rolled her eyes. “You have to channel that energy, Cyrus. If touching alone pulled power from me, I would’ve been reduced to an empty shell after what we did last night.”

A half smirk played at Cyrus’s lips before he focused intently on her palm. His brows knitted together, and a muscle feathered in his jaw. She recognized the fire brewing in his gaze: his fury. He was channeling the same rage he felt when he faced Apollo. Darkness swirled in his eyes, making them seem black for a moment instead of icy blue.

When he brought his hand to hers again, a cold chill seeped into her flesh, freezing her blood and making her gasp. Icy power flooded her, coursing through her veins. It felt so familiar…

Cyrus immediately jerked his hand away from her, flexing his fingers. Small tendrils of vines sprang from his hand, circling his palm. His face paled as he stared at the magic—Prue’smagic—as it encircled him. The vines twisted and coiled, moving as if they were alive. They arched toward Cyrus like an animal that wanted to be stroked. After a moment, the vines receded, vanishing back into Cyrus’s palm.

Prue cradled her own hand, staring at it. She thought she might find some kind of scorch mark or injury. But she saw nothing but smooth brown skin. Nothing to indicate Cyrus had wounded her by stealing a kernel of her power.

“Cyrus,” she whispered before looking up at him. “That icy cold feeling—it felt likeyour power.”

He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“Remember when we were first bound together in Krenia?” Prue asked. “I summoned your black flames. And it felt… just like this. Cold and powerful and all-consuming.”

Cyrus swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. “What does this mean? Is my magic back?”

Prue had no answer to this. If itwasCyrus’s magic, it clearly wasn’t the same. And if it wasn’t… then what was it, and where had it come from?

A knock sounded at the door, and Cyrus grabbed Prue’s wrist before hauling her to the bathing chamber. She opened her mouth to protest, to tell him it didn’t matter, but that same fire still churned in his eyes, and she knew better than to argue with him.

He left to answer the door, and she stood there in the bathing chamber, rubbing her arms to ward off the lingering chill of that strange power.

Subdued voices echoed from the main chamber. After a moment, the door closed, and Cyrus returned, clutching a small piece of parchment in his hands.

“What is it?” Prue asked, drawing closer to scrutinize the parchment.

“Apollo has issued a formal challenge,” Cyrus said.

Prue’s heart stuttered in her chest. “So soon? But the rest of the Titans aren’t even here. Do you think it’s because he’s afraid of your new power?”

“Either that, or he’s found a way to release the Titans on his own,” Cyrus said, handing her the letter.

Prue’s stomach clenched as she read over the words:

Apollo, God of the Sun and former King of Elysium, issues a formal challenge against Osiris, King of the Underworld. The battle will commence in three days’ time in the Undead Wilds. Single combat, to the death. The winner will claim the throne of the Underworld. To refuse this challenge is to surrender the crown.

Prue stared at the words in horror. “Single combat?” she whispered. “But that means?—”

“Only one of us can fight him,” Cyrus said in a low voice. “And it has to be me.”

SENTENCED

PANDORA

Gaia has come.

The moment those words were uttered, time seemed to freeze. Pandora was numb to her surroundings. All sounds became muffled. She merely stood there, eyes distant as the darkness raged inside her.

And she was powerless to stop it.

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