67. Xül #2
"Of course." My voice bit through the air. "Olinthar's body isn't even cold and you're already calculating how to use this. Everything's an opportunity with you, isn't it?"
"Would you prefer I let his actual killer take the blame?" Morthus's voice remained maddeningly calm. "A grief-stricken girl who can barely stand, let alone defend herself against the entire pantheon?"
"Don't pretend this is altruism," I snarled. "You've wanted Olinthar's throne for centuries. And now it's conveniently empty, and you just happen to be here to claim responsibility."
"Yes," he said simply. "I have wanted this. I've worked toward this. The difference is, I'm prepared for what comes next. She isn't."
I wanted to rage at him, to call him the opportunistic bastard he was. But looking down at Thais—lost in her grief, unaware of the political hurricane about to descend—I knew he wasn't wrong. That made it worse.
"The others would challenge you," I said, trying to find holes in his logic even as I hated myself for considering it. "You're already a threat to the traditionalists. If they think you killed Olinthar?—"
"They'll move against me, yes. But I'm established. Powerful. I have allies, resources, centuries of political maneuvering to call upon." He gestured to Thais. "She has nothing but raw power she can't control and a target on her back."
"Exactly. We have allies who will?—"
"Do what, exactly?" My father's tone took on a cutting quality.
"Stand guard over her every moment? Fight off the entire pantheon when they come calling?
" He stepped closer, and I saw the cold calculation in his eyes that had made him second only to Olinthar for so long.
"All of them will challenge her, Xül. One by one or all at once. And they will prevail."
"Then they'll have to go through me first. Every. Single. One."
"You're powerful, my son, but not that powerful. Axora alone could?— "
"Could try." My voice dropped. "I'll paint this temple with divine blood before I let them touch her."
Morthus studied me for a long moment. "You'd die for her."
"Without hesitation." I stroked Thais's hair as she trembled against me, my touch gentle even as my words turned vicious. "But I'd make sure to take as many of them with me as possible. Starting with whoever reached for her first."
"A romantic gesture. Also a futile one." His expression darkened further. "I won't allow another god to seize this opportunity."
His tone made my blood run cold. I tightened my hold on Thais instinctively. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that if I claim this kill, I need to be strong enough to hold it. Strong enough that no one dares challenge me." His eyes bored into mine. "Your marriage to Nyvora would split the traditionalists. Give me the alliance I need."
"Go fuck yourself." The words came out as a snarl. "I'm not trading Thais's life for chains."
The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken threat. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, dangerous. "Then I'll have to consider all options to maintain stability in the pantheon. Every option. Even ones I'd prefer to avoid."
A low growl escaped my lips. "You wouldn't dare."
"I've ruled Draknavor this long by doing what must be done," he replied simply. "Don't make me prove that to you now."
I rose to my feet, lifting Thais with me, cradling her against my chest. "You'd murder an innocent woman? Your own son's—" I couldn't finish. Couldn't put words to what she meant to me.
"To prevent a war that would destroy everything we've built? To stop the traditionalists from turning this realm into something even darker?" His eyes blazed with conviction. "Yes. And you know it."
Thais stirred slightly in my arms, lost in her grief, oblivious to her life being bartered over her head. The choice was no choice at all.
"You bastard," I whispered.
"Yes," he agreed without emotion. "But a bastard who keeps his word. Agree to the marriage, and she lives under my protection. Refuse..." He didn't need to finish.
His expression shifted then, showing something deeper than cold calculation.
"I will not abandon my goal for this, Xül.
Not for her, not for you, not for anything.
We've worked too long, sacrificed too much to let chaos destroy everything now.
The pantheon must change. The old ways, the cruelty, the endless power games—they die with Olinthar.
But that change requires stability first."
"The end justifies the means?" Each syllable stabbed the silence.
"When the end is a realm where children aren't harvested for divine amusement? Where mortals aren't pawns in immortal games? Yes. I've done terrible things to get us this far. I'll do worse if needed. Because the alternative is unacceptable."
He looked at Thais, and for a moment, I saw genuine regret cross his features. "She doesn't deserve to be caught in this. But none of us get what we deserve. We get what we can salvage from the wreckage."
I looked down at her—my fierce starling who'd carved her way into my heart—then back at my father.
In his eyes, I saw the truth. He'd do it.
For his vision of a better pantheon, for the prevention of something worse, for the greater good he'd pursued his entire existence.
He'd add her death to his ledger of necessary sins.
The future I'd imagined shattered. All those stolen moments, her laughter echoing through the Bone Spire.
The way she challenged me, defied me, made me feel alive for once in my life.
The plans I'd barely admitted to myself—showing her the hidden corners of the realm, watching her grow into her power, maybe one day hearing her say she loved me too.
All of it crumbling to ash.
Because I loved her more than my own freedom. More than any future. More than anything.
"I'll do it," I said quietly. I pressed my lips to Thais's forehead, breathing in the scent of starlight and storm, memorizing it .
Pride flickered in Morthus's eyes, and I wanted to hurl myself at him.
"You have my word. She'll be under my protection."
"She's worth more than that," I said softly, adjusting my hold on her as she pressed closer to my chest, seeking comfort even in her broken state. "Worth more than your ambitions, your greater good, your perfect pantheon."
"Love makes fools of gods and mortals alike, my son."
"Then I'll gladly be a fool." I looked down at her vacant eyes, at the woman who'd never know the bond I’d carved into my skin to make sure she’d always be safe—so that I could always find her. She’d never know that my soul was tied to hers.
That my heart bled for her, more and more every passing day.
This was the price of her survival. And I'd pay it a thousand times over, even if it meant watching her from afar for eternity, belonging to another while she lived and breathed and maybe, someday, smiled again.
Morthus moved to Olinthar's body, dark power gathering around his hands. "We need to make this convincing. It must run deep enough that no one questions my involvement."
Death magic poured from his hands, seeping into Olinthar's corpse.
The blood turned to tar, the peaceful expression twisting into a rictus of agony.
Shadows crawled beneath the skin, leaving marks of dissolution that spoke of slow, deliberate murder.
When he finished, Olinthar looked like he'd been tortured by death itself before the final blow.
"His essence is transferring to her," I said, my voice tight. "How exactly do you plan to explain that when the others arrive? They'll sense it immediately."
"They'll sense something," my father conceded with a slight nod. "But this is unprecedented. Even more so with one of the Twelve."
"And your claim that you killed him?"
"Will be believed because it's what they expect," Morthus replied, his eyes calculating.
“But the power..." He gestured to Thais.
" All of this is theory, of course, but I don’t believe it would have transferred to me even if I had been the one to strike the killing blow.
Death and Light are fundamentally opposed. I'm not compatible."
"But she is," I said, looking down at her vacant form. "Light calls to light."
"Precisely. Her domain is the same as his. The power naturally seeks her." His expression darkened. "Which means she'll need to learn to suppress it quickly. To hide what she is becoming."
My jaw tightened. "In her current state? She's barely conscious."
“We’re going to take advantage of the unknown and the chaos surrounding the situation. Now…" Morthus said, wiping his hands, "we summon the others. Let me do the talking. Xül, don't leave her side, but don't appear too protective. We need them focused on me, not wondering about your involvement."
I nodded, adjusting my hold on Thais. She'd gone completely limp, eyes open but unseeing. Shock, grief, and nascent divine power made a dangerous combination. I could feel Olinthar's essence settling into her bones, trying to remake her into something she'd never wanted to be.
"It's going to be alright," I whispered against her hair, rocking her gently.
"Thatcher," she murmured, barely audible. "I need to find Thatcher."
"I know, starling. I know."
She didn't respond after that, just stared at nothing while I held her. Her body was present but her mind had retreated somewhere safe. I'd seen this before in torture victims—when the pain became too much, the mind simply... left.
The game was beginning. And all I could do was hold her and pray to powers older than prayer that somewhere in that broken mind, she was still fighting to return.
But as I felt her sit there, vacant and still, I knew the truth.
I'd already lost her too.
Just in a different way.