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I could feel the fear rolling off of her—off of him—as they wondered what I would do next. But all I wanted was to feel my wind in her hair, to touch her skin and find out for myself if it was truly as silky as it looked. Creator above, when I thought of tasting her, of the ichor that coursed through her veins, of the sweetness between her legs, it nearly brought me to my knees.
My emotions had never felt so . . . unknown.
With one terrified glance, the azure-eyed goddess had bewitched me.
Thatwas the first time I feltit—that strange, incessant impulse, that fierce need toclaimher. To make hermine.
Suddenly, there was nothing more I wanted than to take her.
So, that’s exactly what I did.
I stole her from the God of Life.
“Get out,” grated a voice, coming from the doorway—effectively pulling me from my thoughts. “All of you, out.” The sound of bootheels striking the glass floor approached me, while a dozen feet scattered towards and out the door, closing it behind them, taking their suddenly hushed voices with them.
I would have breathed a sigh of relief if my lungs weren’t stuck in a frozen state.
“Hello, brother. You look—” Folkoln paused. I didn’t need to see to know that he was standing beside me, looking over my useless shell of a body. “The same.”
A glass cup sounded against the cement slab, followed by thepopof a cork and theglugof a bottle as some of its contents were poured into the glass. The bottle clinked softly as it was set down, the cup making nary a whisper as it was picked up.
“This might just be one of the finest batches yet.” He took a heady sip. “It’s a shame you’re stuck in this situation, but I suppose that just means more for me.”
He sat down, the click that sounded in his bending left knee—an old war wound that even his immortal body could notproperly heal—telling me as much. The boots that thudded, one over top of another, just off to the side of my head as he put his feet up, confirmed it.
There were very few people I allowed to get away with such behavior, but I had a soft spot for my insolent brother, so I let him do—mostly—as he pleased. Besides, what else could one expect from the God of Chaos? Keeping him contained and not wreaking havoc on the rest of the realms was hard enough.
Folkoln drew out a sigh. “I just got back from seeing Saphira. She has expressed zero interest in helping me search for the Blade of Moram, although knowing her, she’s probably already searching for it just to spite you. If you hadn’t taken her wings and exiled her, I imagine she would be a lot more helpful. You know my stance on this . . . you should not have taken them in the first place.”
Despite his bleeding heart for our sister, Saphira did not deserve to have her wings back. But I had never told Folkoln the entire story, of what had been expected of me . . .
After I gave up the Living and Immortal Realms and withdrew from the Immortal War, Saphira started to question my rule—question me. She staged a coup andtriedto have me overthrown, believing she was fit to rule the Spirit Realm, that she was powerful enough to take back the other realms on her own. Even though her rebellion eventually failed, her actions began to incite the possibility of another one. I heard the whispers her rebellion stirred, passing from mouth to mouth, spreading like a disease—that perhaps the Goddess of War was right that the God of Death was not fit to lead.
After days of debate regarding how to quell the rumors, my council decided that to regain control over the Spirit Realm, I needed to show the realm that I would not take her betrayal lightly—I needed to make an example of her. They wanted me to end her immortal life, to be the means to an end that they sooften rumored me to be. And for the most part, as the God of Death, I lived up to that expectation.
But I disagreed.
I told them that taking her immortal life would acknowledge that she had reason to make her claims—worse, it would make me look as thoughIfearedher. Before my council could argue any further with me, I had my guards bring her from the dungeon to my throne room, full of hundreds of witnesses. There, I made a spectacle for all to see—of what happened to those who betrayed me. I chained her arms above her head and her feet to the floor, and then, with my bare hands, I tore her wings from her back. As I walked out of that room, her lifeless, ichor-coated wings dragging behind me, I delivered my final blow. I told my sobbing sister that she was exiled from the Spirit Realm, forcing her to live among the humans she despised.
But my actions were a necessary evil—they allowed my sister to keep her life.
That was many, many decades ago.
As Sage would say, I was a bastard for it.
And truly, I was.
But at least I knew that about myself. I was not a good male, nor would I ever claim to be. I never attempted to hide that part of me, unlike so many others who hid their darkness behind a giant, fake smile. Those narcissistic assholes were much worse than I.
I drifted from my thoughts, returning to the sound of Folkoln pouring himself another glass and catching the last remnants of his sentence: “—and that’s all I have to report on Sage.”
—What about her?
My mind filled in the blanks, spewing out different ways his sentence could have begun—all of it enough to drive me mad, considering she was withhim. A potent anger swirled within,ratcheting itself up inside of me. I had no way of letting it out. All I could do was drown in it, over and over and over again.
“By the way, her brother is a poor excuse for a reaper. Why you thought it was a good idea to give him the position I’ll never understand.” Folkoln chuckled. “I’ve never seen such messy landings in my immortal life.” His laugh faded, but the amusement never left his voice. “Perhaps . . . I should take him under my wing. Turn that mess into something truly chaotic. He has the potential for it. All the boy needs is a bit of guidance.”
Thatwas the last thing I needed. Sage wouldn’t just have my balls for letting Folkoln dig his talons into Kaleb—she’d water harpoon them off. And for what I had planned for Sage, I was definitely going to need my—
