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He flashed to her side, wrenching a new round of shock from his brethren.
“I’m already bored, and you owe me a kiss,” the goddess announced. “Give it to me.”
A vein bulged in his forehead. “It didn’t have to be this way,” he grated, shooting out his hand and clasped the back of her nape. His grip was firm, but his fingers shook.
She narrowed her eyes, too, a cauldron of emotions bubbling over. Hints of trepidation, longing, and anger. “You have your orders.”
He yanked Lore close for a kiss. His palm burned her flesh. As Lore returned his passion, her resolve weakened, and Neeka strengthened. One minute remained on the clock. Now or never. She seized her chance.
“Kill me,” she commanded Azar, the words echoing from the throne room walls.
Silence. Then chaos. “No!” Rathbone shouted, his denial gutting her. Had to be this way. “Don’t you dare.”
Lore grappled for control. “Do me no harm.”
“Kill me,” Neeka repeated as Rathbone’s curses and threats intensified. Seconds ticked away.
Azar reared back and shook his head. His defenses toppled, nothing shielding the lust in his expression. “I don’t want to do it.”
Lore attempted to gain control again, but again, she was weakening. Neeka drew from her bubbling well of love and waged the final battle. “Ready your sword, soldier,” she shouted at Azar. “Take my head, then my heart. Separate my bones. Do whatever is necessary to ensure I never rise again. Do it now!”
Groaning, Lore covered her lips with her hand. But it was too late. Neeka retained the helm as Azar lifted his sword. He was fighting the compulsion but losing.
“I will bring you back,” Rathbone vowed.
She raised her chin, calling, “I love you, too, Red.” As Lore contended for dominance, Neeka dropped to her knees. “Do it, Azar.”
The midnight hour rang out.
He swung the sword.Whoosh.Darkness came, bringing silence. Neeka died, taking Lore with her.
Rathbone watched as his female lost her head, then her heart. A ragged roar escaped him. Erebus cursed louder. He’d lost this round.
The Astra and harpies cheered. They’d won without lifting a finger.
Hades removed the chains Rathbone had failed to shed on his own. He sprang over and collected Lore’s headless body. Neeka’s shell. Tears welled as the General rushed over to crouch beside him.
His oracle was gone. His fated. The one he couldn’t live without. But not for long.
“Get me a chisel,” he commanded the General. He would bind Neeka’s spirit to the bones. He just needed time to figure out a better plan.
“On it.” She vanished in a puff of smoke, and from his post, Hades groaned.
“Have you learned nothing?” the god called.
Wait. Why was the body so hot? Rathbone frowned. His skin blistered. Flames erupted from Neeka’s—Lore’s pores. He released her and eased back. The inferno spread, burning away the body... Dark smoke collected around the bones, creating a curtain.
Rathbone waited, daring to hope. His oracle was very good at pre-planning. Taliyah arrived with the desired item as the fire died and the curtain thinned...
He sagged with relief. A naked, smoldering Neeka stirred and stretched, as if waking from a peaceful nap. With a grunt, he scooped her up and yanked her against his chest.
“You’re alive,” he said, pulling back just enough to let her read his lips. “And you are fully Phoenix apparently, after only four doses of the toxin.”
Head falling back, she laughed. “I saw you through the flames and it was glorious! But how? Why? Because I didn’t arrange this.”
“I gave her six doses of the Phoenix toxin as a child,” Grenwich announced, approaching their side. Neeka hadn’t noticed her yet. “Her father predicted her death the day of her birth, and I took measures to prevent it. There was no other way to trick Erebus into using me and choosing her. Tell her.”
He did, and Neeka swung her attention to her mother. “Are you saying you have treated me as an enemy to...protect me?” she asked, dumbfounded.
