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Maddox
Spotting Carrick, Iwalk across the grass to the gazebo. On the dais, the gods are talking and a handful of demigods mill about.
“I thought you earned permanent retirement?” I ask.
Carrick smirks. “Finley is hanging out with her friends today and I had nothing better to do.”
I elbow him in the ribs. “Married life that boring, huh?”
“On the contrary, it’s fucking fantastic.”
Everybody’s married and life is fucking fantastic.
My eyes slide to Zora, standing placidly with her hands clasped. Because this is a formal meeting, the gods are in white tunics, red capes with gold braided belts, and epaulets. Zora is the smallest of the deities, but not by much. Veda and Circe only have her by an inch or two. Onyx is almost as tall as I am, but Cato makes everyone look diminutive next to his seven-foot frame.
From thin air, Amell appears on the far side of the gazebo and right next to him is Deandra, the queen of the Light Fae. I’m shocked—I’ve never seen a fae allowed in this realm. I’ve been here countless times to meet with one god or another, but I’ve never seen anyone other than demigods. I don’t know what dimension we’re in or if we’re even in a dimension. If I need to have a formal meeting with the gods, I use an ancient incantation to arrive in this place. If they summon me, I will arrive here.
Whatever this place is, it’s always beautiful with perfectly warm weather accompanied by a scented breeze, rolling hills, towering mountains, and fruit trees all around. The gods don’t live here, but this is where we always meet in official capacities. The Council provides time like this to their most devoted servants—the demigods, for that is why we were created—to bring tidings of quests they are on or to make requests.
It’s why I’m here today.
For a request.
Amell walks toward me and Carrick, Deandra following. She’s a stunning fae beauty with raven hair and ice-blue eyes. Her outfit is outrageously sexy, a frothing pale blue gown with crystals along a bodice cut so low, it reaches her navel. The skirt is open panels that show her long legs when she walks. Deandra is a temptress but she’s also powerful—and dangerous. Lucky for us, she fought on our side in the apocalypse.
Carrick shakes Amell’s hand and kisses Deandra’s cheek. I give Amell a nod but then Deandra steps into me, pressing her lips to mine in a lingering kiss.
“Mmmm… you taste good, Maddox.” Her hands press into my chest as she pouts. “How come you don’t visit me in Faere?”
I hate myself for doing it, but I let my regard move past Deandra to the dais where, sure enough, Zora is watching. Her face flames red that I caught her, but I don’t miss the daggers she shoots at me before turning away.
Just great.
I take Deandra by the upper arms and gently push her back. “I’ve been busy.”
“Well, make time,” she insists, waving her hand in Carrick’s and Amell’s direction. “These two succumbed to matrimony and are off the market, so…” Something seems to strike her, and she cuts a hard look to them. “You are both off the market, right? I mean, I don’t care if you’re married, but you might care.”
“Totally off the market,” Carrick says.
“Off the market,” Amell agrees quickly.
Deandra’s glittering eyes come back to me. “After this is over, come play with me in Faere. We can stay naked in my bed for a week.”
“As tempting as that sounds, I’m going to have to pass,” I reply, forcing myself not to look at Zora.
I know I shouldn’t give a fuck what she would think of Deandra coming on to me, but I do. After talking to Amell and having him put together the timeline of Zora’s crazy existence, I’ve got a clearer picture of why she holds herself so far in reserve and what I might need to do to breach it.
“Interesting you didn’t say you’d take a rain check,” Deandra muses, tapping a finger against her chin, then sliding her finger down her throat and chest in a vain attempt to draw not only my attention but Amell’s and Carrick’s as well.
When no one bites, she shrugs and glances back at the gods. “So, what’s with the summoning? I’ve never been invited here.”
“Me either,” Amell says in a gruff voice.
Amell, the most elite Dark Fae and king of the Underworld, and Deandra, the most elite Light Fae and queen of Faere, should rightfully hate each other. But the apocalypse changed all that. Kymaris, who ruled the Underworld, and Nimeyah, who ruled Faere, were both killed, and with those deaths went most of the eons-long grudges.
It doesn’t mean that Light and Dark Fae are ready to play nice, but at least the two rulers aren’t wanting to wage war against the opposite.
“Let’s begin,” a voice booms out. Cato, god of Nature, rolls a little thunder into it.
