Page 49 of Thorn & Ash

The thought of finally having power over his brothers sent a strange spark of exhilaration through him. He’d never craved power; he’d vowed to never travel down that path, especially after seeing what it had done to Cyrus.

But this felt different. The magic was still separate, still a part of Typhon. It was available whenever Evander wished, but he could also part from it at will. His mind was untainted.

How long would that last? How long before he wound up just like Cyrus?

Evander shook these questions from his mind. Now was not the time.

His footsteps were silent as he crept closer. The babbling river masked most of their words, but he could barely make out the hushed voices of Leonidas and Marcellus as they muttered urgently to one another.

Oh, yes. His brothers certainly were busy plotting.

But where was Vasileios? Evander hadn’t seen him in ages. Perhaps he’d gotten himself killed with the dark magic he was dabbling in.

The thought gave him a swell of satisfaction.

His rage fueled him as he emerged from the trees, spreading his wings wide so his older brothers could behold them in all their glory.

Marcellus noticed first, ever the soldier aware of his surroundings. His beefy, muscular frame had once intimidated Evander.

Not anymore.

Leonidas turned then, his silvery eyes fixed on Evander. Already a look of amusement played along his face.

And then his gaze snapped to Evander’s wings, and his face drained of color. His mouth slackened in shock, his eyes going wide.

“Evander,” Leonidas said numbly, still gaping at him.

“What in the ever-blooming hell is that?” Marcellus boomed, facing Evander fully. His eyes narrowed, taking on that hungry glint he often got when faced with a fight.

Good. Evander wanted a fight, too.

“Tell me what you’ve done to Acheron,” Evander said, his voice low and deadly. “To this entire realm. Tell me how to stop it or I swear on all the mighty gods that I will tear you apart.” He flexed his fingers, allowing his claws to elongate.

Alarm flickered in Leonidas’s gaze, but Marcellus boomed a laugh. “Do you really think we’d fear you, Evander? You’re like a kitten; you couldn’t possibly harm us.”

“Marcellus,” Leonidas warned.

But Evander only offered a cold smile, eager to wipe that smirk right off Marcellus’s face. Typhon took control, and red burned into the corners of Evander’s vision. In a flash, he darted forward, slamming into Marcellus’s chest and pinning him to the forest floor. Marcellus cried out as Evander plunged his claws straight into his throat.

Leonidas rushed forward, but Evander swept his wings sideways, knocking him off his feet. Marcellus wriggled under his grip, but Typhon’s force was unrelenting. He pushed further, burying his claws deeper.

Marcellus went still, his eyes wide and his face ghostly pale.

“Tell me,” Evander urged, his voice still low.

Marcellus choked on his words. Silver blood bubbled on his lips.

“Evander, stop!” Leonidas roared. Black magic shot forward, spearing straight into Evander’s back. But his wings curled inward, absorbing the attack.

“Holy shit,” Leonidas breathed, staggering back a step. “What are you?”

“I am death,” Evander growled. “And I’ve come to deliver your sentence. This is your final chance. Tell me what you’ve done to the Underworld or I will end you right here and now.”

Marcellus’s chin was now covered in blood, but he nodded fervently, granting his assent. Evander eased the pressure, but only a fraction. His eyes never left Marcellus as he said, “Leonidas. Answer my question before I sever our brother’s head from his body.”

“I—I—it was Aidoneus!” Leonidas sputtered. “It wasn’t us.”

A roar burned in Evander’s throat, and he spun around, wrenching his claws from Marcellus’s throat and slashing them toward the other brother.