Page 239 of The Ascended
"You do this, and you sign your own death warrant."
"Then what am I supposed to do?" I yanked against the bonds, desperation clawing at my throat. "Just let him die?"
Silence.
"This is a risk I'm willing to take!"
"Well, I'm not!" The words exploded from him, swirls of death energy slamming into the walls. "I won't watch you die!"
The silence that followed was deafening.
"If you ever cared about me," I said, my voice raw. "If any of what happened between us was real, you'll do this for me."
The words rushed past him. Agony streaked across his face.
"Don't." His voice was barely a whisper. "Don't use that against me."
Tears burned my eyes. "You say there's no way, but at least give me the chance to try."
He stood frozen, wrestling with himself. When he finally spoke, his voice was hollow.
"You would use my feelings against me so easily?"
"To save my brother? Yes." The admission hurt, but it was true. "I'd use anything. Anyone."
"You're determined to die for him."
"I'm determined to try to save him," I corrected. "If that means dying, then yes."
A long silence stretched between us. Xül looked as though he'd just lost a war.
"Fine." The word was clipped, lifeless.
"Xül," Aelix asserted. "You can't be serious."
"Untie her," Xül commanded, ignoring his friend's protest.
This had all started with me on my knees at the Proving, begging them to spare Thatcher. If it ended the same way—with me pleading for his life while mine hung in the balance—so be it.
Chapter 57
The Negotiation
The steel doorssealed behind us. In the vast throne room of the Eternal City's palace, darkness moved with purpose, coiling around pillars and pooling in corners.
Morthus rose from his throne. His pale skin gleamed in the darkness. Unlike our last meeting, there was no warmth in his bearing, no trace of the man who had sat beside Osythe at dinner, passing dishes with careful attention to his wife. This was the Lord of Death in his seat of power.
"Xül." His deep voice carried through the cavernous space. "An unexpected visit at an unusual hour." His gaze shifted, and I felt the full weight of his attention—those twin voids he had for eyes bearing down on me. "And you've brought Miss Morvaren again. To what do I owe this... pleasure?"
The last word held a question within it, as if he could already sense something amiss.
Xül remained silent beside me, his typical muted. The message was clear. This was my audience to lead.
Morthus's eyes narrowed at his son's uncharacteristic deference. "How curious," he murmured, descending the steps from his throne. "My son, who speaks when silence would serve better, now holds his tongue."
Each step brought him closer, and with proximity came pressure—an invisible weight that made breathing an act of drowning in reverse. I forced myself to remain still, to not flinch as he stopped mere feet away.
"Well then, Miss Morvaren. Since my son has apparently lost his voice, perhaps you'll enlighten me as to the purpose of this visit."
