Page 93 of Leashed

*

Unable to lookaway, Ryan steeled himself for the agony his body would be racked with upon the death of his brother. He’d held steady through the echoes of Bo’s pain throughout the six days of hell, his proximity to it providing little buffer to the assault Bo’s body had been undergoing.

It would be nothing compared to the loss he was about to experience.

The remaining head of the dragon closed in on Bo while he rode the dead one to the earth. The massive jaws gaped open as the beast’s body went lax and it dropped to the ground, sending a spray of dirt into the air.

Dio rushed past him, gripping the balcony rail as the dust settled. “He lives,” he hollered, doubling back and racing down the steps to the terrace. “Get your ass down here, Orion! Before Lachesis takes a cheap shot at him.”

Tearing from the room, he paused long enough to see Atropos, a thin thread in one hand, shears in the other, and a look of smug satisfaction on her gnarled face.

*

Bo snapped toconsciousness, bucking his head back against who—or what—was restraining him from behind. The hold released with a hiss and he sunk into the water, kicking away as he broke through the surface, sputtering and struggling to gain his footing in the deep pool.

“Bo. Brother, it’s me.”

Ryan.

Or the Eidolon.

He grasped the side of the pool, pain shooting through his hand as his hold gave way and he slid back under the water, the muffled voices above him little more than a din against his thrashing.

“Help me get him out!”

Dio.

Maybe.

Two large hands gripped him under the arms and yanked him from the water, dragging him across a cold floor. He twisted and kicked, lashing out until the hands released him and he thumped his head off the smooth marble.

“You had no right to intervene.”

Lachesis.

He shoved his hair out of his eyes and stilled, crouched in preparation of another attack as he watched the younger Fate advance on her sister.

Atropos held her ground, her shears tucked neatly into her roped belt. “We are here because you did not heed that advice,” she said calmly, easing into a chaise. “An eye for an eye, dear sister. Now give that boy his winnings.”

Lach’s attention swung to him, her eyes narrowing. “You’re bleeding all over my clean floor, dog,” she snarled.

He looked down, pink rivulets of blood and water pooling at his feet and working through the tiny cracks in the floor. Lifting his right arm, he cringed at the sight of his shredded knuckles, three of his fingers refusing to comply when he attempted to fist his hand to stop the blood seeping from his palm.

“You’re a mess,” Dio’s voice boomed as he approached him slowly, an amphora in his wet, gloved hand. “Water.”

Looking to Ryan for confirmation and getting a quick nod, he extended his unbroken hand, pulling the jug to his lips and almost crying with relief as the cold liquid hit his throat.

“Not so much at once, or you’ll chuck it all up,” Dio warned, tipping the amphora from his mouth with his gloved hand.

Side-eying Lachesis while she continued to glare at the blood pooling at his feet, he tugged it back and finished it. If he threw up on her floor too, good.

He limped toward a chaise, his knees close to buckling as he dropped down gracelessly, his brother at his side in an instant. “Pay up, Lach.”

His voice was unrecognizable, gruff and low.

Dio appeared on his other side, arms crossed as the Fate’s lips pursed in contemplation. “Let’s get on with it, Lachesis. Hades will want to assess the boy’s damage before he heads topside.”

Turning her back to them, she stormed over to a large cabinet, flinging the doors open to reveal thousands upon thousands of spools slowly turning on tiny spindles. Yanking one from the top row, she threw it to Atropos, who caught it with a surprising ease.

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