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Asshole.
“I will be dead before he opens his eyes.” She waited. Oops. Still not a question. “I love him and want to be with him. Can you help?”
“No.”
“No? That’s it? No. Who in the hell do you think you are?” Indigo shoved her fists to her hips.
“It should be obvious. The OneCreator. Now if you have nothing more.” He examined the nails on his right hand.
She moved closer to his throne. “Wait. I will do anything to have Roark awaken. Anything to see him again. To be with him. Please, I need your help.”
Seemingly satisfied his manicure was perfect, he said, “I never interfere. My immortals are directed to do the same. Ohngel was troubled by the order. Nonetheless, it stands.”
“It’s a shitty directive if you ask me.”
“I didn’t ask you.”
Indigo shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m going about this all wrong, your royal arrogance. I love him. I want to spend my life with him. He has given up so much to set the world right. This should be no big deal for you.”
“It is interference.”
She bit her lower lip. “Okay. I got that. You can’t interfere, but I can. I’m not one of your immortals from Vast. Is there anything I can do to awaken him?”
“A much better question. I especially like how you point out you are not an immortal. Hence, technically, exempt from my no-interference rule. Let me consider.” The OneCreator threw both feet to the floor, bending forward with an elbow to his knee, his chin in his palm. “You realize Ohngel willingly chose this path in order to save two species.”
“I do. Nonetheless, I believe he is paying too steep a price.”
“Your beliefs matter little.”
Indigo stifled any smartass answer about to leave her lips. Better late than never. Flies, honey, etcetera. “Is there anything I can do to awaken Roark … um … Ohngel?”
Once again, the OneCreator appeared to think on the matter, his eyes closed, his lips pursed. “No.”
Air shot from Indigo’s lungs. Without Roark, her life was an empty shell. He was her reason to smile, to breathe, to be. The OneCreator was no help, but she would never give up looking for a solution. “Dominion brought Ohngel’s body here somewhere. May I stay with him?”
“Briefly.”
Indigo turned slowly to stumble away from the powerful, unsympathetic male on the throne. With no idea where she was going, her feet served only to lead her away from this asshole and toward Roark.
Fabric rustled against fabric as though someone stood. The hesitant voice of the OneCreator reached her. “There is this one thing. Perhaps so small it is not worthy of mention.”
Indigo spun to face the royal pain in the ass. “What? Anything. I’ll do anything.”
“How much time with Ohngel do you desire?”
She stroked her chin before she answered. “Three hundred years.” She figured the number represented the rest of her life.
He shook his head.
“A measly hundred?”
“As your young ones say, ‘Get real.’ Think much, much smaller, so to speak.”
“A month?”
The head shake again.
“A week?”
