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Feeling your mate’s emotions as she gets off because of another man was a type of torture I wouldn’t wish upon anyone. I’d rather have my fingers hacked off inch by inch, starting at the tips than feelthatemotion from her again.
Sure, I had drowned myself in bourbon when I felt her screwing some idiot from Meristone, but this time, I didn’t have that option, and knowing that it was the God of Life she was willingly fucking made it that much worse. And the fact that shechoseto do it,withouthis ichor swaying her this time? It struck a primal chord.
So, I went to her with one goal—her pleasurewouldbe mine, even if it killed me.
In doing so, I had chewed through the last remnants of my power—meaning I had cut myself off from her completely.
I couldn’t feel her emotions anymore, and my phantom form was no longer something I could access. That meant I couldn’t help her. The thought made my stomach cave in, because for the next little while, my mate would be completely on her own.
And she still had so much left to remember . . .
I leaned against the trunk of an apple tree, my bootheel kicked against it and my arms threaded loosely over my chest. My shadows drifted around me, cloaking me from the light of the full moon. A gentle breeze stirred the air, rustling the canopy of leaves that hung above me. In the distance, fox kits chattered with one another, their high-pitched barking and baby-like wails an eerie late-night melody. The piercing howl of a wolf lurking nearby silenced the young foxes within seconds.
My eyes were fixed on a set of arched windows on the second floor of the Golden Palace.
I was waiting—waiting—to get a glimpse of her.
Behind me,ourorchard spanned for miles, blanketing the land in a densely packed layer of apple trees. They served as my silent army, each one of them acting like a wooden soldier—fighting on my behalf, reclaimingmyterritory. They were born from the seeds I had given her over the decades and now their numbers were in the thousands.
Seed discord among the New Gods,the Goddess of Fate had once told me.Thatwas what I needed to do to win the war.
So, I’d done just that.
I’d taken away the very thing the King of the New Gods planned to do with the goddess he had made for himself. I’d taken away the Goddess of Life’s ability to create—plants, animals . . . children.
I wasn’t sorry for it.
Knowing what he did when she had her back turned, I’d saved her more than she would ever know. Like taking my sister’s wings, this was also a necessary evil. What I took from her ensured her the ability to live a life, instead of being treated like a factory for it.
If he were to be honest with her about his side activities, I’m certain the fiery little temptress would not stand for it.
An unfamiliar feeling swelled within me at the mere thought of her. Despite how hard I tried, I did not have a name for it. It was an obsession, a fixation. A sickness of my own.
Had the parasite I planted within their lives turned around and burrowed into mine? I looked at the window in her room, waiting to see her. The fact that I was here confirmed what I already suspected—the parasite had clawed its way inside me too. I bit back a growl that threatened to dislodge from my chest.
How dare she bewitch me. I was the God of Death. I was supposed to be immune to poisonous things.
When this was all over, when I won the war, I would end this sickness she had planted within me. My nostrils flared. I would rid myself of her. Permanently.
At that moment, she came into view.
She held a section of her silk hair, the color of freshly fallen snow, gently brushing it. Her porcelain skin glowed just as vividly as Luna above. I knew, from the times my fingershad grazed her skin, how luxurious it was . . . how soft—how easy it would be to sign my handprint on her ass. She wore a lacy, white nightgown that left little to the imagination—it held tightly to her supple curves, diving low between her breasts, the slit nearly reaching her belly button. The fabric was so thin, it wasn’t hard to make out the fullness of her breasts, or the pink buds of her nipples pebbling through. They were divine as it were, but when I thought of stringing a chain between them and using it to pull her towards me . . . using it to lead her on her hands and knees towards my throne—
I stifled a groan.
Tension riddled my muscles, stitching them tight. I glanced down—that wasn’t the only thing that was stitched tight. Damn pants.
I cracked my neck, but it did little to help. When it came to her, nothing helped.
She studied the sprawling orchard, a smile caressing her lovely little mouth. Great divine, thatmouth—the things I could do with it, to it. She did this every night—she came to the window while brushing her hair and looked at the sea of green, dotted with red fruit. She took pride in what she’d created—it was evident in the time she spent in the orchard during the day.
Oh yes, I watched her during the day as well—without her knowing, of course.
I had never met a goddess who was so . . . hands on. Most would have just used their magic to tend the orchard, but not her—she was always so eager to get her hands dirty, just like a mortal would. Unlike the rest of the high and mighty pricks that walked around this place, acting like they didn’t have shit balls stuck between their cheeks.
Her smile faded and she turned around, her back facing me.
I knew why she concealed her smile and the joy the orchard brought her—it was to spare her husband’s precious feelings. Iblew out a mocking breath of air, a smirk catching on my lips. As if he didn’t know. She spent more time in the orchard than she did in the castle.
