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“Why shouldn’t they recreate the society they were born into?” Sol asked. “These people are humans. We shouldn’t expect them to be any different just because they have died.”
“And you… like living here? Among humans?”
He snorted. “I live in the castle.”
“But you come here often.” It wasn’t a question. She could tell by his steady pace that he knew the area well.
Sol sighed and stopped, turning to face her. “Do I see myself as greater than the humans? Yes, of course. I’m immortal and I possess abilities they could only dream of. Does that mean I would never associate with them, never interact, never see what their lives are like? Of course not. How narrow-minded do you believe me to be?”
“Not narrow-minded,” Pandora said truthfully. “Just pretentious. You’ve only ever been concerned with yourself, so of course it would shock me to see you defending the humans.”
He shot her a crooked smile, and her heart leapt at the sight. “It seems you don’t know me as well as you thought, Trivia.”
He turned away, leading her down the path once more, but Pandora wasn’t finished.
“Why do you interact with the humans, then?” she asked, genuinely curious. She wasn’t sure why she was so obsessed with learning the truth behind Sol’s smug and arrogant exterior. Ordinarily, she was an excellent judge of character. She wouldn’t have been able to keep up her deception for long if she wasn’t.
So, it threw her, being wrong about Sol. She needed to delve deeper to see where, exactly, she had misjudged him.
Because mingling with the humans was certainly not something the Sol she knew would be doing.
“There is always something to learn,” Sol said. “Our entire existence is tethered to humans. Don’t you want to know more about the species that worships you?”
Pandora huffed a dry laugh. “The humans don’t give a damn about me.” She faltered when she remembered what Prue had said to her: the witches do.
Many covens revered Trivia as the goddess of three paths because of her connection to the Triple Goddess. So, her claim wasn’t entirely true. There were witches out there who did know her name.
“And, how will you change that, if you’re busy sulking in your cave in the Underworld instead of getting to know them?” Sol shot a sly grin over his shoulder.
Pandora’s eyes narrowed. “You’re just looking for acolytes, aren’t you? People to serve you. Grovel at your feet.”
Sol sighed and waved a hand in her direction. “Stop making assumptions about who I am, Trivia. I’m far too complex for you to draw your own conclusions about me.” He half turned to give her a coy smile. “You’ll need to get much closer to unravel my true character.” His voice took on that low and sensuous tone once more, and Pandora had to drop her gaze before he undid her completely.
Damn this man.
Her face heated as she gritted her teeth, cursing herself for allowing him the upper hand again.
What was it about him that vexed her so much? Why couldn’t she just keep her distance and ignore him, like she did everyone else?
She had a plan. And she needed to stick to it. It was that simple.
The gaps between buildings opened up to a wide, spacious courtyard with a fountain in the middle. The area was packed with people navigating a maze of tables and booths. A cacophony of voices filled the air. Vendors shouted their prices. Women laughed and twirled their skirts to the rhythm of the music pulsing from a quartet of musicians playing instruments in the corner.
Pandora trailed behind Sol, her mouth open in awe as she drank it all in. Never in her years in the Underworld had she seen anything like this.
Sol whirled to face her, beaming, and spread his arms. “Welcome to market day.”
GUIDE
MONA
Mona went perfectly still, as if she’d come across a predator in the woods. Her instincts told her to run, even though it would do no good.
If Prue were here, she would fight, Mona told herself. So, she faced the stranger and lifted her chin, trying to channel as much of Prue’s confidence into her voice as she could. “Who are you?”
The woman—the goddess—chuckled, a low, melodious sound, as she drew closer, her red eyes narrowing into slits as she took in Mona’s appearance. “Don’t pretend with me, child. I can smell your blood, and it doesn’t belong here.” She cocked her head, assessing her, looking every much the predator Mona was envisioning. “Who are you?”
Mona’s insides quivered, and it took all of her strength to keep from trembling before the goddess’s piercing gaze. Whoever she was, she was powerful.
