Page 57 of Empire of Wrath and Ruin
“I’m not giving up,” I said, anger starting to build in my chest, replacing the fear.
“Livia…”
"No." The word came out with more force than I intended, cutting through whatever Marcus had been about to say. "I'm not giving up on him. I don't care what any of you think about the risks or the danger or how far gone he seems. He's my mate, and I will not abandon him."
"Even if he hurts you?" Septimus's voice was raw with barely controlled emotion. "Even if next time we're not fast enough to stop him?"
I met his gaze steadily, seeing the fear and love warring in his dark eyes. "Yes. Even then."
The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken fears. I could feel their love for me through our bonds, but also their terror at the thought of losing me to Taveth's darkness. It made my chest tight with guilt and determination in equal measure.
"Then we protect her," Marcus said finally, his voice carrying the weight of absolute decision. "All of us. We don't leave her alone with him again until we find answers."
"I'm not a child," I protested. "I don't need—"
"You do," Tarshi interrupted, and the exhaustion in his voice made me pause. "Livia, I felt what was in his mind tonight. The things he wanted to do..." He shuddered. "If you hadn't reached him when you did, he would have destroyed you. Not just hurt you—destroyed you. And enjoyed every moment of it."
The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken arguments. I could see it in their faces—the fear, the frustration, the protective instincts warring with their understanding of what I meant to them all. But I didn't care. I couldn't care about their concerns when Taveth was lying in the next room, fighting a battle against his own soul. But they didn't understand. They couldn't feel what I felt through the bond with Taveth. Maybe Tarshi felt it too, but not the others.
Yes, there was darkness there. Yes, there was something consuming him piece by piece. But underneath all of that, buried beneath layers of shadow and madness, the man I loved was still fighting. Still holding on. I'd felt it in those brief moments when he'd surfaced, when his true self had broken through the rage to whisper apologies with tears in his eyes.
"Then what do you propose we do?" Jalend asked quietly. "Because watching him deteriorate isn't helping anyone."
"We find the elders," I said, my voice steady despite the chaos in my chest. "We demand they tell us everything they know about shadow madness. Every research note, every failed experiment, every theory they've dismissed as impossible."
"And if they refuse?" Antonius crossed his arms, his expression sceptical.
I felt something cold and determined settle in my bones. "Then I make them understand that refusing isn't an option."
Marcus's grip on my hand tightened. "Livia, you can't threaten the temple leadership. They could throw us all out, or worse—"
"Let them try. I've lost enough.”
"Livia—" Antonius started.
"No." I slipped out of Marcus’ arms and stood up, turning to face them all, and I could feel my own anger building—not the destructive, consuming rage that ate at Taveth, but something cleaner and more focused. "I'm tired of being kept in the dark. I'm tired of watching him suffer while people who might have answers keep secrets. I'm his mate. I have a right to know. I’m going to see Aytara now. I'm done waiting. I'm done being patient and respectful while the man I love loses his mind. She's going to give me answers, or I'm going to tear this place apart looking for them myself."
I was already moving toward the door when Marcus called after me. "What do you want us to do about Taveth?"
I paused, looking back at my mates—these men who had risked their lives to protect me from the person they cared about, who were struggling to balance their love for me with their respect for our mating bond. Tarshi’s face was grim and worried, but my worry for him eased a little as Septimus slipped his arm around Tarshi’s waist. He wasn’t alone.
"Stay with him," I said. "Don't leave him alone. And if the darkness comes back..." I swallowed hard. "Do whatever you have to do to keep him from hurting himself."
The corridors of the temple had never felt so long. With each step, my anger grew, fed by weeks of frustration and fear. Aytara had answers—I was sure of it. The way she looked at Taveth, theway she avoided my questions, the cold distance she maintained. She knew something, and I was done being polite about it.
I found her up in the garden, sitting on the bench beside the pool, her gaze seemingly focused on the bright coloured fish that frolicked in the water, but her mind was far from there.
I didn't announce myself. I simply walked up and sat beside her on the stone bench, close enough that she couldn't ignore my presence but far enough that I wasn't crowding her. The silence stretched between us, broken only by the gentle splash of the fish moving through the water.
"He's getting worse," I said finally, my voice carefully controlled despite the rage building in my chest.
Aytara didn't look at me, but I saw her shoulders tense slightly. "I know."
"Do you?" I turned to face her fully, studying her profile in the moonlight. "Do you really know what it's like for him? The voices in his head, the constant battle against something that wants to turn him into a monster?"
"I raised him," she said quietly. "I've watched this consume every shadow mage I've ever known. I know exactly what it's like."
"Then you know he's running out of time."
