Immortal Reign(23)

“Greetings, Prince Magnus. Come closer. I’ve been waiting for you.”

He froze.

The voice sounded familiar, but it wasn’t Kurtis, like he’d half expected it to be.

Magnus clenched his fists. If this was a threat, he was ready to kill whoever had issued it with his bare hands without a moment’s hesitation.

At the sight of bright red hair lit by the firelight, relief surged through him, and he relaxed his fists.

“Nic!” Shame slammed into him as his eyes began to sting with tears. “You’re here! You’re all right!”

Nic smiled and stood up. “I am.”

“I thought Kurtis had killed you.”

“It seems we both survived, didn’t we?”

Magnus let out a hoarse laugh. “Don’t take this too personally, but I’m very happy to see you.”

“The feeling is mutual.” Nic’s gaze swept over him. “You’re covered in dirt.”

Magnus looked down at himself, grimacing. “I just dug myself out of my own damn grave.”

Nic nodded thoughtfully. “Olivia sensed you were underground.”

Olivia. The girl who traveled with Jonas. Magnus didn’t know her well at all, but knew she was rumored to be a witch. “Where’s Cleo?”

“At the compound, last I checked. Here, you look thirsty.” Nic offered him a flask. “I know you’re partial to Paelsian wine.”

Magnus grasped the container and tipped it back. The wine was like life itself on his tongue, the purest pleasure in existence as it slid down his throat. “Thank you. Thank you for this. For . . . for being here. Now, we have to get back to the compound.” He sent a look toward the forest surrounding them, but it was all in darkness beyond the firelight. “Kurtis means to hurt Cleo, and I’m going to kill him before he does.”

Nic took a seat across the campfire from Magnus, cocking his head. “That’s right. You don’t know what happened, do you?”

How could he act so nonchalant about a threat to his childhood friend?

Something felt off about Nic. Incredibly off. “What do you mean?” Magnus asked, now more cautious.

“The night you disappeared, your grandmother performed a ritual.”

“My grandmother?” Magnus blinked. The last time he’d seen her was just before his father had angrily sent her away. “Where is she now?”

“Your father killed her.” Nic’s expression darkened. “Broke her neck before she was done, and now everything is going wrong.”

Magnus gaped at him. “What? What are you talking about? He killed her?”

Nic grabbed a stick and jabbed at the fire with much more force than necessary. “Only the sorceress could have performed the ritual properly. I see that now. I was too impatient.”

The wine had quickly worked to ease some of Magnus’s stress, but it blurred his thoughts. Nothing Nic said made sense to him. “What nonsense are you speaking? Be clear. I need to know what happened, Nic!”

Nic threw the stick to the side. “You keep calling me that, yet it’s not my name.”

Magnus hissed out a breath of frustration. “Oh? And what would you prefer? Nicolo? Lord Nicolo, perhaps? You just told me my grandmother is dead at the hand of my father.”

“That shouldn’t surprise you. Your father is a reckless murderer, just like you have the tendency to be.” Nic regarded him for a moment. “It’s time to get to the point, I think.”

There was something in his otherwise familiar brown eyes that Magnus didn’t recognize.

It was the look of a predator.

“Cleo is in danger,” Magnus said, more carefully now. “We need to get back to Amara’s compound.”

“You’re right. She is in danger. And I need you to give her a message for me.”

Magnus’s heart thudded as he studied Nic, trying to figure out why he was so strange tonight. “You’re not coming with me?”

“Not quite yet.”

“What the hell is going on?”

“Only this.” Nic held his hand out, and a flame appeared in his palm. “Have you guessed yet? Or do you still want to call me Nic?”

Magnus stared at the flame as if hypnotized. Then his gaze shot to Nic’s eyes. They weren’t brown like before. They were blue. And glowing.

It couldn’t be.

“Kyan,” he managed.

He nodded. “Much better. Knowledge is power, they say. But I think fire is the only power that matters.” He stepped closer to Magnus. “Your little golden princess is the chosen vessel for the water Kindred, but the ritual went awry, thanks to your grandmother’s weak magic and your father’s stupid choice to end her life. You will tell Cleiona that she needs to come with me and Olivia when we arrive. Without a fight. Without an argument.”

Magnus grappled to make sense of all this. That Nic was Kyan. That Cleo was in danger—and not only because of Kurtis.

“Go near her and die,” Magnus growled.

“Resistant, aren’t you?” The fire god blinked, a smile curling the corner of his stolen mouth. “I will brand you with my fire to help ease this along. Then you won’t be able to resist any command I give you.”

His entire fist lit with blue flames, the same blue as his eyes. Magnus had seen this blue fire before, at the road camp during the battle with the rebels. Bodies touched by this fire shattered like glass.