Atlantis Unleashed by Alyssa Day

Author:Alyssa Day
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group US

Chapter 23

Atlantis, the palace

After a long, hot shower and a change of clothes, Alexios headed down the immense tapestry-lined corridor to report in to Conlan. The intricate weaving and brilliant hues of Atlantean history—scenes woven over the course of thousands of years—barely registered as he headed for the war room.

The war room. Its walls had listened in, silent and without judgment, on the plans of Atlanteans for more than eleven thousand years.

Alexios wondered if walls could laugh.

Plans, plots, never-ending meetings to discuss never-ending wars. They were all merely chess pieces in a game played by gods, and even the strongest of the Warriors of Poseidon rarely rose higher than pawn.

That pawns were the most frequently sacrificed had crossed his mind a time or two.

Finally arriving, he stopped short, surprised to see guards posted at the door. Conlan—or, more likely, Ven—must be wary of treachery that could reach into the palace itself. It was unthinkable, and yet the presence of the guards demonstrated that someone had been thinking exactly that.

“Lord Alexios,” the elder, a battle-hardened veteran, said. “Prince Conlan and Lord Vengeance await you inside.”

The other pulled the heavy door open, and Alexios entered the room, glancing up at the walls as he did so. Silent wit nesses, he mocked himself. Plaster and marble and wooden beams, shaped by tools into something of function.

Much like himself.

Shaking his head to disrupt his grim thoughts, Alexios looked around. Conlan and Ven leaned over the long, scarred, wooden table in the center of the room, poring over maps. Ven moved to one side, sliding his finger down a map and muttering something, then glanced up and acknowledged Alexios with a nod.

As Alexios crossed the room, he got his second surprise. The human woman Tiernan Butler, clad in jeans and a white shirt, her dark hair pulled back from her face, stood between the two brothers. Judging by the expressions on their faces, whatever they were discussing wasn’t good.

Conlan and Ven wore simple clothing: dark shirts and pants similar to his own. Nothing in their attire shouted out the fact that they were royalty. The high prince, soon to be king, of Atlantis and his younger brother, next in line to the throne, never traded upon their heritage to put themselves above others. Even so, royalty and the aura of unflinching command radiated from them, a silent herald of their birthright.

The birthright—at least by half—of one other. One gone missing, yet again.

“News of Justice?”

Conlan shook his head. “None. And no contact with Alaric, either. Do you have news of him?”

Alexios whistled, low and long. “I’d thought he’d make it back here before me. He went after Quinn; she was wounded in the battle.”

Ven’s hands fisted, crumpling the map he held. The prince respected Quinn for the warrior she was but, more than that, she’d become his friend. Indeed, she was family, now that her sister Riley would wed Conlan.

Human marrying Atlantean. He thought of Bastien—Atlantean marrying shape-shifter. Ever more twisting skeins of yarn for some

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