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“Then like what?” he replies. Even now, I can still see a hint of deference in him for her, the elder immortal, the way his head bows and his voice softens slightly. “Goddess of Earth, how have you been able to bear the way the world has bent against you? How can you allow the other gods to dictate what you want? Look at what they’ve done to you. Look what the mortal world has become.”

Raven knows precisely what to say to her, because Willow hesitates. And for a moment, I think perhaps she will side with Raven, too.

Scarlet rises to her feet and faces Raven. “You think there’s an easy solution to all of the world’s problems,” she says. “That it is as simple as sculpting an exact timeline we should follow.”

“Why shouldn’t there be?” Raven says coldly. “Shouldn’t you know, of all gods? Does your heart not bleed every second, every day, for all the love that is betrayed, that goes unanswered?”

“Do you understand that one god’s joy causes another’s grief?” Scarlet snaps. “That our intricately linked realities are impossible to undo? A mortal falls in love with a mortal and causes a war. Grief over a loved one leads to murder in a fit of rage. Love for another prevents a death. We are linked, Raven, in ways more complex than any single god can handle.” She takes a step toward him. “It is not up to you alone to decide these matters.”

But Raven turns toward her with an expression that makes her pause. In my gut, I feel the inevitable tug of my patron god, willing me forward. He is going to force me to take their souls.

“I’m tired of waiting for the decisions of others,” Raven says. “So I’m offering you the choice today.”

Willow stays where she is, but even though she is shorter than Raven, her presence is larger than his, than any of ours. “She isn’t coming back with you,” she tells him, nodding at me. “The first light of the universe does not belong to you. It cannot be wielded by any god.”

Raven stares at her, unsurprised. “Don’t make me do this,” he says.

“No one is forcing you to do anything,” she replies.

Scarlet steps forward to shield Willow with her body. “Love is a strange thing,” she says. “It always begins at a place of purity, but with grief, with anger, it can twist into something unrecognizable.” She nods at Raven. “You have let it consume your soul.”

Raven sighs and looks away, as if he might reconsider his goals. But when he turns back, his eyes are dark with purpose, unmoved and unchanged. He’s going to claim the souls of Willow and Scarlet. I am going to do it.

Out of nowhere, Charlotte darts toward them. Before Raven can move forward, she crouches in front of Willow and presses her hand to the ground. Green tendrils shoot up from the grass, coiling angrily in a circle around Raven, obeying her silent order to restrain him.

“Charlotte!” Katie snaps, moving to grab her, but Charlotte doesn’t seem to care.

I bare my teeth at Raven.

“You think you’re a hero,” Charlotte shouts. “But you’re a monster.”

Raven stares at her with an expression akin to sympathy. Then he simply holds his palm out toward the vines threatening to wrap around him—and in an instant, everything in the garden withers, turns yellow and black, disintegrating into ash that rains down around us like snow.

“Move aside, child,” he says.

Charlotte darts up from where she’s kneeling, then charges at Raven. Willow is on her feet in a flash, crossing the distance between her and Charlotte in the blink of an eye—and suddenly, she looks terrifying and furious.

“You will not touch her,” Willow hisses at Raven.

Raven narrows his eyes. The pull in my chest turns into a searing light, and I know exactly what is about to happen, what he’s about to make me do.

“Do not make it harder for me,” he says, his eyes going to Scarlet before settling back on Willow. “You know what you need to do.”

I hope Willow understands the desperation on my face, my hope that she and Scarlet protect their souls long enough for us to find a way out of this. Please. Just bow to him. Just accept his rule. Just survive this.

A thousand emotions flitter across Willow’s face. It’s truly fascinating—no matter how many centuries pass since the gods were human, they forever carry a spark of mortality in them, the brief and burning light that only comes from knowing one’s life will someday end.

Willow looks at me in the way she has always looked at Charlotte—like a mother to her daughter. She puts her hand protectively on Charlotte’s shoulder, pulls her back from me. Charlotte scowls, struggling against her patron goddess, but Willow holds firm.

“You are not welcome here, Raven,” she says steadily to him. “And so long as I am here, you will not seize my domain. No single immortal deserves to rule everything.”

Willow, no. The desperation in my heart cracks. “Stop!” I shout.

I lunge forward, putting myself between Willow and my patron god, and hold up both of my hands. “Stop,” I repeat breathlessly as I meet Raven’s eyes. “You can’t.”

Raven looks disappointed in me, and the look hits me harder than it should. Even now, even after the way he had used and betrayed me, the ache in my chest to be near him never goes away, tugging me always toward Death.

He approaches me, and I have the uncanny feeling that I’m dreaming again, the familiar hallucination of him walking to me through a fog, of me looking up and begging him to release me, of him refusing.