They failed,the Soothsayer sends to us as we move to follow the Cleaver over to where the Manipulation god awaits.
I slip my hand into the Draconis’. He's still wearing the skin of the vessel, not yet shifted. I can tell that he is struggling with that, itching to truly come out and play but aware of the dangers of doing so. If history has taught us anything, it’s that the non-Gifted really don't like it. The Gifted even struggle to comprehend the beauty of him in full, scaled form.
Soon. If it's not needed here, we will head home and change there. We will set you free of these bindings when we can, my Bonded.
His hand flexes in mine as he sends back to me,Mine.
The Manipulation god does not attempt to leave or flee or even attack us as we approach. It stands at the edge of the growing crowd of people, the only person still focused on anything other than the house slowly falling apart on the street behind us. It stares at us as though it has no concerns about its impending death.
It truly doesn't seem to care.
It has to be a game or trap of some kind,the Corvus sends to us.
“How carefully you hid yourself from us,” it says as it stares the Cleaver down, disgust curling at its lip.
It's been awake for a long time. It's been here long enough that there's no doubt in my mind that it has already killed its vessel and taken over fully.
“You did this,” the Cleaver says. “You're the one who started the breeding plan.”
It turns its head curiously, a tell of the god inside. The way we don't quite act as the Gifted and non-Gifted around us do is a glaring sign of what lies beneath the surface.
“I had hoped to catch one of you in your next lifetime. To have you and be able to get rid of you before the others awoke. We knew this was coming. Too late for that now, I suppose. Now we're simply working against the clock.”
A slow smile stretches across my lips, and the Draconis flexes his fingers in my hands, yearning to shift and kill this woman. To snap her body in half with nothing but the brute force of his jaws.
“You used your chance, and you failed. That's it for you, I'm afraid,” the Crux says, stepping toward her as the shadows begin to fall from his body.
The Gifted and non-Gifted around us gasp and step away from him, some scrambling and others staring as though they can't quite look away. You know which ones have heard the Draven name, the legacy of the bloodline that my Death Dealers are born into. Those people have a knowing fear in their eyes as they stare at the wide sets of jaws that form in the shadows.
Perfection.
“You haven't been awake long enough to be able to take someone like me out of the running this quickly. I suppose we’ll meet again in a few years, if one of the others doesn’t trap you first. But they will, you know. We always find you. We always kill you. Some things willalwaysbe.”
It moves to turn its back only to find a shadow waiting for it there as well. When it lifts its hand to attempt to move, the shadow grasps it by the wrist, wrapping around it like a vine. Dozens more stream out of the Corvus to wrap around the god as well, until there’s no chance of it escaping.
The god turns its head and its eyes flash black, power blasting at us but not strongly enough to truly touch us. Its eyes widen, and I can see when the realization finally hits.
It’s going to die here.
The Cleaver steps up once more, a hand wrapping around the god’s throat as it squeezes. “You're underestimating the power of the Bond and the power of my Eternal. Though I slept in safety, others did not and I have their power now.”
The god sputters, clawing at that hand as it blasts out more power but it's like kicking at a brick wall. The Cleaver is indestructible and doesn't feel a thing, the power it has now thanks to our completed bond means that there’s nothing this god-bond can do to any of us now.
The shadows look hungry, eager to consume the god, and I find that though the Cleaver offers its soul to me, I do not want it. I don’t want the taint of that twisted god touching me at all. It's more than just power, and I want nothing to do with it.
It’s not that easy though.
It never is.
There's a satisfyingcracksound as the Cleaver snaps the vessel's neck, which is always the weakest point on any god, and I press my eyes shut to feel as the life force of the god slips away.
It’s going to enter back into the cycle. Don't let it,the Corvus whispers into my mind.Don't let it come back for us. End it here, my Eternal.
I reach out and take the soul.
I don't want to consume it, but if it can stop the cycle from continuing and the gods hunting us… I would do anything for my Bonded.
I take it into myself, consuming and consuming until it's gone. Nothing left to come back, nothing left to haunt us now. One less monster out there to kill us all.
