Page 24 of Thorn & Ash

And when it seemed like she was fading, being pulled to the mortal realm or between worlds, Evander would sing for her. She would watch him with that awestruck look in her eyes, and then, after a moment, she joined in. The harmony and melody intertwined, echoing down the river and resonating among the trees. He had never heard anything more beautiful than Mona’s voice. Her song cut straight through him, right to his core, making his very bones tremble with awareness.

It called to him in a way no one else’s did.

For those brief, blissful moments, the realm seemed like heaven itself. Not the Hell Evander knew it to be.

Unfortunately, the more they sang together, the more Evander felt a stirring inside him. The dark presence within him yearned to come out. And Mona’s song called to it, beckoning it forward.

It took great effort to hold the beast at bay. Evander was torn between healing Mona and keeping the monster caged. Every time they sang, another part of her became corporeal. First her hand, then her forearm, then her upper arm. At this rate, it wouldn’t be long before her entire body was restored.

But the beast clawed closer to the surface, threatening to unleash itself.

Several days later, when their singing had freed Mona’s entire left arm and shoulder, Evander had to stop mid-song, his body shuddering with the imminent release of the dark power festering inside him. His hand unconsciously went to the moonstone around his neck. It burned hot against his palm.

“What dark magic has claimed you?” Mona whispered, her eyes sad as she stared at him.

Damn. This woman missed nothing. She had implied she’d been a powerful witch in the mortal realm. It seemed even as a spirit, she could still sense strong magic.

Evander could lie to her, but he didn’t want to insult her intelligence. Instead, he said softly, “It’s my burden to bear. Do not trouble yourself, Mona. You have enough to worry about.”

“Without you, I have no hope of moving on,” Mona protested. “If this dark magic claims you, that will affect me as well. Please, Evander. Tell me.”

A shiver rippled through him, and he hunched on all fours with a groan. No, no, no… It was too soon!

How was this happening? He never unleashed the monster during the daytime. This was unfounded. How was it growing stronger?

Evander willed the beast to remain inside, to stay put, but he couldn’t stop it. Now that it had begun, the transformation swept over him.

Claws emerged from his fingertips, and he hastily hid them under the shadow of his torso. He had to leave. He had to get out or else the beast would try to claim Mona, too…

“Evander.” Mona’s voice sounded panicked now. He could feel his hair changing, the horns growing along his head.

“I—I’m sorry, Mona.” With a gasp, Evander fled to the cover of the forest, allowing the beast to emerge fully. A roar escaped him, echoing in the air and making the trees and the ground quiver.

He didn’t understand. This had never happened to him before. How? How had the beast gained such control over him?

And how long before it overtook Evander entirely?

* * *

When Evander came to, he found himself in Vasileios’s domain: the River Lethe. Across the river, he could make out the churning depths of the Pool of Forgetfulness.

What the hell am I doing here? Evander wondered. His skin felt itchy, as it often did when he transformed. Just to be sure, he ran his hands up and down his body, assessing. He was back in his black suit, and no horns sat on his head. His hair was short, his fingers no longer clawed.

Thank the gods. But he had to get back to Mona…

“Evander,” whispered a voice.

He stilled, his skin prickling from the otherworldly presence that called to him.

And then he heard it. Her song.

“Mona?” he breathed, glancing around. Impossible. She was bound to Cocytus. She couldn’t possibly be here.

Then, he heard another voice—a voice he knew well. It was tinged with laughter and triumph.

Vasileios.

Evander crept forward, using the trees to obscure his presence as he peered down the river. Vasileios sat perched along the riverbank, his hands swirling together as black magic twisted itself around his fingers. The magic plunged into the water, and Mona’s song intensified, blaring against Evander’s ears and making him wince. No longer a mournful song of grief, it was now a wail of agony, much more similar to the pained and tormented souls he encountered.