“It can’t be. No one has seen him for thousands of years.”
“I heard he was dead.”
“I heard he’d lost his mind.”
More murmurs and interest raced through the room, a live wire.
So everyone knew I released Aten, but they didn’t know why it came about. I imagined I had Grim and Timothy to thank for their discretion. I was suddenly as grateful to them for keeping those details private as I was for Xander drawing all the attention away from me.
Despite getting cleaned up, Xander lacked a refinement everyone else in the room possessed. It was as if an ancient savagery clung to him, pulsating in his muscles, the tightness in his jaw, in his shoulders.
I could only imagine everyone else felt it too.
A true god amongst house trained pussy cats.
Our eyes locked and a jolt of electricity shot through me. The room, with all its splendor, faded into an inconsequential blur.I was unprepared for the intensity of my reaction—Xander’s appearance not only stunned me but set flame to that deep, raw attraction only he inspired.
I was acutely aware of my mortality, of the blood rushing through my veins and the beating of my heart.
As he neared, the immortals closest to me murmured, “He’s coming this way.”
“I heard he’d gone crazy.”
Another god nudged them hard in the ribs. “Shut your mouth. He is one of the first gods among us.”
Only in that moment did I realize how much the gods craved to bring Xander back in the fold. They revered him. Like some past savior coming to life, the gods around me gaped, some even misting at the eyes.
And I knew he absolutely fucking hated it.
Xander would rather be wearing a barely buttoned Hawaiian shirt while sipping a Shirley Temple in that dirty dive bar than be here in this glittering realm of sophistication and power.
As Xander neared, I couldn’t help but notice the transformation was not just in his appearance—there was a newfound purpose in his stride, a sense of belonging. He was a god who could orchestrate the vastness of the oceans, yet all his attention was fixed on me.
Xander studiously kept from meeting the gaze of anyone else, his entire being locked on me. His presence transformed me from a soldier on a mission to a woman acutely aware of her own desires and vulnerabilities.
“Do you think he’s coming to ask me to dance?”
“Dream on, Jocita.”
The murmurs grew louder as Xander sauntered through the crowd, a mix of surprise and speculation rippling through the gods and goddesses.
A goddess draped in shimmering silver with a midnight-blue cascade of hair eyed Xander with open interest. Even her outfit complemented his.
“Nun, the elusive god of primordial waters,” she cooed, stepping into his path. “Your absence has been... noted. What tempts you back to our midst?”
Xander’s lips curved in a half-smirk, not slowing his stride. “It’s acrazystory.” He emphasized the word crazy, an inside joke between us. I hated how that warmed me by several degrees. “Let's just say I'm here for the view,” he replied, his voice laced with a hint of mockery. His gaze remained fixed on me, as if the goddess was no more than a fleeting shadow.
Undeterred, a god with the sheen of polished bronze on his skin stepped forward, offering a hand. “Xander, perhaps you seek new alliances? Or new... conquests?” His eyes flicked up and down Xander’s body, suggesting an unspoken offer.
Xander's reaction was immediate and dismissive. He sidestepped the offered hand, his eyes rolling slightly. “Alliances? Conquests? Don’t you have anything better to do?” he asked, his tone dripping with disdain.
A murmur of laughter and whispers broke out among the immortals, their intrigue piqued by Xander's blatant disregard.
The god's face tightened, a mix of embarrassment and annoyance flashing in his eyes.
Then, with the ease of a predator ignoring lesser beasts, Xander closed the distance between us. His eyes were alight with a mischievous spark, the kind that told me he was fully aware of the stir he was causing.
“Ms. West,” Xander's voice cut through the tension. “May I have this dance?”
