The way she carelessly said his name sent a shudder through him. No titles. No mocking nicknames… It was too personal.
“It’s true,” he bit out, lying. “My father’s death wasn’t exactly expected. He didn’t pass down the knowledge.”
“You just said to me you plan to mine more.”
“If I ever find it,” he countered.
She watched him through narrowed eyes. He suppressed the shiver that ached to roil through him as her gaze climbed him up and down.
Esmyra clicked her tongue and waltzed back up to him, but he refused to take even a single step back. Her head was just beneath his chin as she looked up at him, an infuriating smirk playing across her lips.
Gods, how could Draevyn love someone so vicious?
“No matter, then. I’ll find your secrets eventually. But in the meantime, now that I have your wife, I’ve come to let you know we’re declaring war.”
His head reared back. “War?”
“Aye.” She winked before turning from him.
In a subtle shimmer, her form twisted once more. The goddess shape shifting was unlike anything he’d ever seen. She could take any form, be anyone at any time she desired. It was unnerving. Esmyranow stood before him as Kaelypso, her silver hair reflecting the moonlight that peered in from his balcony windows.
“Don’t worry, though. ‘Tis not a war against you…”
Atlas cleared his throat with barely restrained fury. “Well by all means, Esmyra, I’m at the edge of my seat. If you’re not here to declare war against Lephyrin, then who?”
“Naerysa and Kaelypso declare war upon the God of Rage and War himself,” she answered, as if it wasn’t the most absurd thing he’d ever heard.
“Irah?! You’re declaring war on our god?” he boomed. “He doesn’t even walk among the realm anymore. He hasn’t in a thousand years. That’s impossible.”
“Is it?” she challenged, her blue and silver tattoos swirling with a subtle glow of power. “I’m a god, and I stand before you here and now.”
“That’s different,” he growled. “How do you expect this to happen?”
“Oh, it’s quite simple really. If we can’t punish Irah for his sins and betrayal, we’ll simply punish his subjects.”
Atlas’s mind emptied, his jaw hanging open. His chest heaved as he desperately tried to derive a plan. “It’s not as if I can just call upon my god and expect him to answer.”
Esmyra—or Kaelypso—cocked her head to the side. “Do you not have temples to pray to?”
His jaw locked. “It’s forbidden in Lephyrin.”
“And who set that law into place?” she challenged.
My father, that’s who.Perhaps he could undo it.
“And”—she dragged out the word—“do you and your fire-wielding brother not share a piece of Irah’s soul?” Esmyra grinned. “I’m sure you can reach him somehow.”
His shadows lashed out then as his anger finally slipped. They enveloped her, tightening around her throat once more. Esmyra tilted her head back and laughed, a low, unhinged sound. The torches along the walls flickered violently as if recoiling from it—fromher.
It was then Atlas finally realized sheallowedhim to do it. It was all a godsdamn game to her.
“You think your little tricks of darkness can hold me?”
Water seeped in. It wasn’t from the windows or cracks, but from the very air. The thickening mist clung to his skin. With a violent snap, a tendril of water formed over her shoulder and lashed out, slicing through the shadow binds like ribbons of smoke.
Atlas’s jaw fell open as Esmyra’s eyes cast a silver glow. Her body began to lift, hovering before him a few feet above the stone floor, her hair whipping around her like strands of silver lightning.
Siren. Goddess.Nightmare.
