Page 107 of The Gods Order

Whoever is in there with him is who we’re searching for.

“I’ve had enough of this,” Gladian grunts, marching toward me.

My eyes swirl as I straighten and call my power to the surface.

“Keep fucking with me, Gladdy, and you’re going to regret it.”

He throws his hands up at me, then at Creed.

“Do something about him.”

“What would you have me do? He’s protective of the people he cares about.”

“You think he cares for him more than me? That’s my Valtrue member in…there.”

His stupid glower makes me want to punch him. This is exactly why I won’t let him in.

The Valories, the Gods Binding—who-the-fuck-ever—have jokes.

Pairing my genius—questionable—friend with this limp-dick rule follower.

“This is a touch extreme, Riven. Even for you. It wasn’t long ago you were ready to kill this same man,” Amick says.

“What?” Gladian barks.

“That was different. My angel was in trouble, and we found out he didn’t have direct involvement. Therefore, my desire for his death became null.”

“Okay, how about this?” Kyzen sighs, loud as fuck, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Riven, you go down alone and speak with Vulius. We’ll wait up here.”

Gladian grumbles but nods.

This could work. I could be a distraction.

“Fine, but let me make this clear. It’s his choice whether he comes up to meet you or not. You won’t get past this door without his permission.”

“I don’t even know why you’re acting like I’m going to do something to him.”

“We’ll explain in a moment. Riven, for the love of our Binder, go,” Kyzen says.

I scoff at him for using my love for her against me, but I spin around and yank the barely hanging door open.

“This is fucking mental. I cannot believe a degenerate like him got paired with a man as remarkable as Vullie,” I mutter as I stomp—tiptoe—down the stairs.

The rotting wood creaks under my weight. Part of me hopes it gives out so I fall through and never make it to Vullie’s door.

Uneventfully, I make it down in one piece.

My fist bangs against the door in the pattern he forces all customers to learn, and his shuffle reaches my ears.

“Password.”

“Angel wings and wedding rings.”

“Riven,” he says as the door swings open. “Ah, I’m thrilled to see you. Come in. Look at what I’ve got.”

My smirk lasts a second before I remember I’m not here to fill my waist packs.

Sadly.