Chapter 13

Bubbles trailed my nostrils, while the water warped around me, warming into steam then re-gathering into liquid as it slid over my skin. Though my immortality meant I couldn't drown or suffocate, I could still reach a level of asphyxiation that would render me unconscious, and it would be a problem if I blacked out beneath the ice slab of the Blue Sector.

At best, I'd be lucky enough to float back to the top, and my natural body heat would melt through the ice ceiling so I could get a reviving breath. At worst I would sink to the bottom and remain unconscious until Jericho or Aegaeon decided to show me mercy. Neither of which were devils I would want to count on.

So it was imperative that I got down far, I got down fast, and I did it in a single breath. But fuck, Aegaeon lived deep. I'd only been in his decaying death cave once before, and if I'd never had to again, that would have been enough. That asshole was lucky he didn't have a nose.

The entrance to his dwelling came into view, and I made the final stride to the atmospheric bubble at the entrance. There was no oxygen left in my lungs by the time I reached the lip of the stone opening, and I was thankful for even the putrid air as I swung into the dry space. I slicked back my wet hair to get it out of my eyes, then I focused my sight, absorbing the little light available, and saving it for once I was navigating absolute darkness.

The Centimane wasn't in the main chamber, which meant he more likely carried her to his feeding den. I would have thought Jericho had given him orders not to kill her, but then again, the thing had more hands than IQ. It wouldn't surprise me if he ignored all sense and order and had already digested the tribute.

I sighed aloud, not looking forward to whatever punishment came with my so called failure to protect her. All I could say in Jericho's defense was that, while he may technically be king of the realm, not even he could actually control much of anyone. Not the fallen titans, not the wildlife, and barely even the devils who were linked to him by blood and heart. Hell, I knew a certain fox who made an active point to keep anarchy alive in Tartarus, should I ever forget that.

My heels clacked on the random stones and thunked in the dirt, yet it was otherwise eerily quiet in the Centimane's lair. I neared his feeding chamber, where the smell only intensified, and light rustling pulled my attention to the massive pile of bones. There, Aegaeon was hunched over the pile. The arms on his back undulated slowly with each heavy inhale and exhale. The arms that climbed down his sides were all bracing himself on the floor, while he looked to be playing with something under the canopy of his oversized body.

One more sigh, and I approached the titan. As I had expected, Butterfly was trapped beneath the beast. What I hadn't expected was that twenty of those hundred hands were feeling around her body, as if more interested in memorizing her shape than tearing her apart.

A twinge of irritation sparked in my mind, and I immediately dismissed it as dread for having to deal with this mess in order to help some pointless tribute.

Aegaeon slid his fingers down her arm, and I could tell he was enjoying the way she felt. The previous irritation surged in my stomach when he reached the marks on her wrists. A wave of emotion crashed through my headspace. My teeth clamped hard, and my eyes narrowed.

He lingered over her forearm, and he danced his many fingertips over the speckling of dots I'd engraved into her skin.

Red.

That was the only color I could see now, as her feelings of fear, distress, and hopelessness translated through our bond.

Would Jericho condemn me if I killed him?

Who gives a fuck.