Page 82 of The Gods Order

“Damn. Didn’t realize you gave him such an honorable burial spot.”

“It wasn’t really me,” I say. “After everything happened, my father left me here for a few weeks to get used to the place. Faron, Barir, Zareb, and Phoelius asked me if they could give him a proper burial. I didn’t even know what the fuck they were talking about. I remember shrugging and telling them I didn’t care what they did with him.”

My lids pinch shut.

Fuck, I was an evil little shit.

“Well, you were seven and he was already dead, so I get it.”

I cut a glare his way and he sucks his teeth. Avoiding little fucker. He can act as uncaring as he pleases. I’m not an idiot.

“Get on with your speech. This place is giving me the creeps.”

I flick my attention forward and swallow what feels like shards of a sword. Not only is this beyond fucking awkward now, but I have no clue what I want to say.

Sorry for killing you doesn’t really feel like enough.

I blow out a harsh breath as I step closer to the sarcophagus and lay my hand against its cool surface. My head bows as my mind races over words that don’t want to come.

This is ridiculous. Get it over with.

My mouth parts for a breath, then I slam it shut.

I’m definitely not muttering my peace out loud.

“Any day now, God of Death,” Sevryn says, and I groan.

“Vihaan—”

The hair on the back of my neck stands on end and chill bumps scatter across my skin as a freezing breeze tears through the Crypt. Unease coils tight in my chest and my soul swells so suddenly it almost hurts.

For the briefest second, I stop breathing.

“For the Valories,” a voice murmurs behind me. “He looks just like Seveous.”

My blood turns to ice.

My spine locks as the words slide through my skull instead of my ears. I blink hard and jerk my head from side to side, trying to clear the thundering of my pulse.

“I do pray he acts nothing like him.”

No. No, no, no.

Slowly—petrifyingly slow—I face Sevryn.

There’s a scowl carved across his forehead and his arms are crossed tight as he stares back at me with growing irritation.

Oblivious. Completely fucking oblivious.

He can’t hear him.

My attention flicks past his shoulder and my realm spins.

He’s tall, broad-shouldered, with a full beard and dark black armor clinging to his body like smoke. His face is a mask of unmistakable, familiar features.

Dead eyes lock onto mine.

Except they aren’t dead in the sense of emptiness.