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She cringed as if the fiend had struck her. Rephrase. She wanted to build Brochan’s confidence. Since they were partners, she should try.
Yes. Aid him now, destroy him later. Good plan.
Viola jerked, then tried to hide the action by pretending to sniff another bloom. “Brochan, if you can’t tell when I’m being genuine or not, that’s on you. Now. If you’d like access to my key, you’ll give me one hour of devotion a day. At least.” Though he continued to deny it, he yearned for her as much as she yearned for him. He must. All he lacked was an excuse to give in.
Happy to oblige, darling. For the first time in a long time, a male intrigued her. Why not explore their connection while she had the chance?
Facing him fully, she said, “Do you agree, beast?”
A strangled sound left him. “You’re trying to manage me again.”
In part, yes. But she also kind of loved how this male made her feel, and she only wanted more. Still, she forced a shrug. “Let’s return to our old bargain, then. You stay away from me, and I tell you nothing.”
He ran his tongue over his straight, white teeth. “Nothing you do will change my opinion of you. And I won’t bed you.”
She offered her most cutting smile. “I don’t recall asking you to bed me.”
His nostrils flared. Okay, so her first efforts to boost his confidence had just crashed and burned. Not her fault. His.
“You think you’ll enjoy this,” he hissed at her. “I look forward to proving you wrong.”
Tipping an invisible hat to him, she said, “My very best to you, sir. Your efforts will end in failure, but at least you will have tried, right?”
He worked his jaw. To her surprise, he snapped, “I agree to your terms, goddess. Just know that I will detest every moment we’re together.”
Doubtful. She heard his crackle of anticipation. She even felt a change in the atmosphere. An electric charge of excitement.
Triumph should have detonated. A glitter bomb of satisfaction. She had won this round. Just as she would win every round. But she merely experienced her own anticipation…
“Why wait?” she asked. “I’m ready for my devotion now.”
“You will answer my questions first.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “How long have you owned the key?”
Careful. “As long as I can remember.”
“Have you ever permitted others to use it?”
A pang of sadness sliced her insides to ribbons. “Far too often,” she admitted. The men she’d cared for had enjoyed her greatly…for a short period of time.
Why did the people in her life leave her? How did they not recognize her incredible worth?
“How did you get the key?” Brochan asked.
“My mother and father gave it to me.” Another honest but misleading response. “Look. I get why you want McCadden in a timeless land. But why do the other Forsaken wish to return?”
“For my kind, it’s a need. An uncontrollable pull.” He scoured a hand through his hair, tension tightening his expression. “Why did you choose McCadden?”
Not a subject she enjoyed. “I told you why,” she replied softly, gently. “But you called me a liar.”
“Because he was soon to die? No.” A clipped shake of his head. “You can do many things, goddess, but you cannot predict when another will pass. You are powerful, but you aren’t an oracle.”
“And thank goodness for that! Oracles are the absolute worst, always dishing out puzzles with only half the pieces, inciting self-fulfilled prophecies of doom. But as a goddess of the Afterlife, I’m attuned to…say it with me. The Afterlife. I read auras.”
She moved to another bloom and peeked at her winged warrior through the thick shield of her lashes. No signs of softening yet.
Trying again. “I choose men who are either soon to die or those I might be able to fall in love with. Bonus points if one is both, and I’m able to save him from the jaws of death.” To be a real family? To belong to someone else. Someone who understood her and her challenges—she had all the best ones! “I do want a male of my own, Brochan. Very much.” Did she have a fated one?
No reaction from her companion.
Motoring on. “I win hearts with flirtations and smiles, then test loyalties. When the males fail—and they always fail—I accept their immortality as payment for my time.”
He stretched his fingers, then curled them in once again. “Your time is more valuable than theirs?”
“Yes. No. My reasons made sense once.” She offered him a sad smile, the fight evaporating from her. This man had put her through the wringer lately. She longed for peace. “I wasn’t raised around people. I spent my childhood locked inside a home, hidden. Soon after I broke free, I was imprisoned in Tartarus for the most treacherous of reasons—and not my own. I learned to count on myself long before Narcissism entered the picture.” The admissions tumbled from her lips, and she couldn’t stop them. What is this male doing to me? She hurried to change the subject before he responded to her uncharacteristic openness. “Tell me about your former lovers. The two who turned from your kisses.”
