“You’re not going to do it, are you?” Xander asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Hope, anticipation, and disappointment all mixed into his question.
His gaze burned into me, the intensity of it causing my skin to prickle. A strange mix of fear and desire rose in my chest, and I found myself leaning closer to the bars without even realizing it. Then a sick wave of dizziness swept over me. The power flowing off his body threatened to sweep me away.
“I didn’t say that,” I replied, my voice sounding unsteady even to my own ears. “You won’t come back,” I went on. “You won’t return to the cradle of life and respawn in a hundred or a thousand years. You’ll truly cease to exist.”
His eyes met mine again, surprise evident. “A human knows so much about godly matters?”
I narrowed my eyes. It wasn’t uncommon for someone to underestimate me, but I refused to ever get used to it.
Gods could die. When they did, their essence returned to the cradle of life. While I hadn’t laid eyes on it, the description Vivien gave me reminded me of one of Jamal’s video games that has a respawn point. But instead of instantly coming back to life, they stay there for hundreds, if not thousands of years before they emerge and rejoin humanity.
What I was less clear on was the consequences of them arising too soon. Vivien said it had something to do with being too powerful, or half-baked, like one of her cupcakes. My vampire best friend had a passion for baking, but that passion did not translate into any amount of skill. The cupcakes, cookies, or pastries usually came out burnt to a crisp, salty as the ocean, or a half-melted mess from being undercooked.
And a half-melted, salty god walking among us definitely sounded like a recipe for disaster.
I pulled the sword from the sheath with a sharp hiss. “This human knows how to use her toys.”
The blade glinted in the dim light. To my surprise, intricate runes and symbols of ancient power glowed along it. Was it the god’s presence powering the sword? I didn’t know. But I did know if an immortal died by the edge of my blade, there would be no chance to respawn. It was game over.
Once more, his lips twitched—an action so subtly beautiful that it felt like a physical blow, threatening to topple my carefully constructed defenses.
It was so unlike anything I had experienced before; I couldn’t begin to explain it. Grim made me aware of the death wish I held in my soul, but this was a different power. His power, his eyes overwhelmed me, and part of me desired to be swept away. To be taken away from my life and thrown into another dimension where everything was fresh and new, including me. I both craved and feared it.
Despite the thunderous alarm bells in my mind, my feet drew me closer to him.
Xander leaned in closer. “Do it,” he hissed, his voice an intoxicating blend of velvet and venom. His eyes blazed with a fire that threatened to combust. “End this eternal suffering.”
His words stirred a maelstrom within me, sending a shiver down my spine that somehow ignited a comforting warmth in the pit of my belly. There was something in the way he looked at me, something that made me feel wanted, needed even.
Though my brain was screaming at me to stay back, to keep my distance if I wanted to live, I continued forward until a half foot of space and the bars were all that separated us. I grounded in those deep blue eyes as the energy pulsating off him accosted my body.
“Please, Miranda.” His plea came out in a hoarse whisper. The way he said my name clawed at something inside me. “Kill me.”
“Why?” I whispered.
Xander’s eyes softened, and for a moment, I could see the pain and sadness in them. “Because I have endured eternal pain, because I am tired,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Tired of this existence, of this never-ending torment. I want to rest, to be at peace. And the only way to do that is through death.”
A wave of sympathy for him crashed over me, but beneath it lay the unforgiving, jagged rocks of my duty. The blade of Bane had been entrusted to me for a reason.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what was to come. “I’ll do it,” I said, raising the sword high above my head.
Xander closed his eyes, and I could see his body tense up in anticipation. I swung the sword down with all my might, the blade singing through the air.
But at the last moment, I hesitated, my hand shaking. The blade stopped just short of Xander’s chest, the tip hovering there as if suspended in mid-air.
Xander opened his eyes slowly, and I could see a fathomless depth of despair lingering in their depths. His mouth curled downward in a grimace of anguish, and his entire body seemed to slump with the weight of his resignation. For a moment, we just stood there, the sword still hovering between us. It seemed to fight me, wobbling in my hands. But it was likely just my own nerves.
Electricity crackled between us, and my heart pumped furiously. Our gazes locked as time stood still while I stood in the vortex of his power. The air was heavy with his scent of power, sex, and danger. I was drawn like a moth to flame, knowing if I got any closer, he would scorch me and leave me in cinders. Stranger yet, some part of me wanted to send him to oblivion with a kiss.
His gaze, now hooded, seemed to pierce through my defenses, devouring my unspoken thoughts. They dropped to my mouth as if considering the texture and taste of me.
How long had it been since this underground god had been kissed? Was it as long as it had been for me? Likely longer, though it felt like it’d been a thousand years since I felt the pressure of another’s lips against mine.
“Xander?” I asked in a low voice. My palm turned sweaty around the hilt of the blade.
“Yes,” he murmured, his body fully pressed against the bars now. As if he were straining to get closer.
“Wish granted.”
