Xander didn’t bother wearing shoes or a shirt, making him look almost as feral and out of place as the god spawn. The neon lights from the Strip filtered through the alley, casting a contrast on the contours of his muscled body.
Scars once riddled the entirety of Xander’s body—a body that I’d touched every inch of—but they’d all disappeared. He was flawless now, courtesy of his rebirth from the Blade of Bane. Whereas I was now damned by the same action.
Xander spared me a glance, and for a split second, our eyes met. A myriad of emotions passed through those turquoise depths—worry, relief, anger? Whatever they were, I severedthem from my mind, like hacking off a gangrenous limb. He was the last thing I should be thinking about.
Xander clenched his fists and let out a challenging roar, meeting Sheshem's intensity. What happened next was nothing short of incredible. He lunged forward, fist meeting claw in a blur of motion and raw power. They clashed, Xander ducking and dodging the deadly swipes with the grace of a dancer, landing punches that actually made the hulking god spawn stagger.
Finally, with a growl that shook the alley, Xander landed a punch square on Sheshem's snout. The creature reeled backward, let out a ferocious snarl, and then bolted, vanishing into the labyrinthine maze of darkened alleyways.
“What were you thinking, Miranda?” Xander turned back to me, panting, his eyes ablaze. "If Sheshem hadn’t been in a playful mood, you could've been killed. Your military training didn’t cover sword fighting and gods. You are way out of your depth.”
Playful mood?
Emotions welled up in me, all mixed and tangled so I couldn’t pull any one of them apart.
How long had it been since I heard his raspy voice?
A month.
So why did it feel like an eternity? I’d been starved of hearing words spill from those frowning lips. It’d been forever since I’d been captivated by the way his hair hung loosely over those striking azure eyes. They held a permanent disdain, as if he didn’t care about one single goddamn thing in this world.
An ache yawned inside of my chest so fiercely, my breath caught.
Xander once cared about me. A gaping hole formed in his ruthless indifference, and that’s where he held me. A literal godlooked at me like I was the only woman in the world. The only one worth his attention.
I swallowed past the large lump that lodged itself in my throat.
Calm the fuck down, Miranda.Of course, he looked like heaven and hell, saran wrapped in sex. He’s a literal god. The Egyptian god of primordial waters, once called Nun. Any and every person would be gripped by the desire to fall at his feet and beg to worship him.
The image of him between my legs, worshipping me with his tongue zapped me with a white-hot electricity I tried to shake off even as my skin turned feverish.
But I fucked up.
And when I last saw him, his gaze burned into me with such rage and resentment, it burned away every last bit of what we had together.
I tried to ignore how frustratingly captivating his face is even when he’s irritated.Especiallywhen he’s irritated. Like he can’t decide if he wants to fight or fuck me.
We usually settled on a combination of both.
I gritted my teeth. "No, the army didn’t teach me how to fight gods with a sword. But I'll adapt. I always do." With that, I turned on my heel and made my way down the alleyway.
Energy crackled along my spine, letting me know he was following me. "Adaptation won't keep you alive against gods," he shot back, his voice tinged with concern that did nothing but fan the flames of my already complicated feelings for him.
He was right. But admitting that would hurt more than Sheshem's claws ever could.
Xander had tried to train me to wield the blade. Yet too often, our sessions morphed into something else—something sexual and forbidden.
My heart hammered in my chest, heat building in my veins, forcing feelings to the surface.
Lop.
There, I cut them off again. Another gangrenous limb gone.
I felt nothing for him.
"Thanks for the save,” I said flatly, even as adrenaline pumped through me. “Now, if you don't mind, I have a kitty-cat god to hunt.”
"Kitty-cat god? Are you crazy? It’s not a house pet. You could have been killed." Xander's expression changed; no longer a dangerous, feral scowl but something else. He looked regal, as if he’d changed from the beast I first met in the Grim Reaper’s basement, and into his godly persona.
