Chapter 8
SELENE
The deeper we travel into the Under Realm, the more I’m certain Drayven expected me to run away screaming. But I don’t. The abysmal dark that permeates his realm only makes my power stronger.
I use a little here and there, but nothing elicits the same reaction, the same need from me that bloomed when I uncovered the veiled souls.
The grand slate staircase that descends from the King’s palace is now adorned with a starry runner of light. The boatman who ferries the dead across the blood rivers now has a shining, eternally lit lantern. No corner of this land will be without a touch of my power soon.
Drayven’s hold on my hand tightens as we near the Fiery Lakes, but the screams of the damned souls don’t frighten me.
His power heightens here, surrounded by wickedness.
I lean into it as I let my own magic out to play.
Soon, the fires blaze brighter and the wailing howls of the dead intensify under the scorching flames.
To a mortal, we are sinful, devious and villainous, for how we relish in the sound. But we are gods—and gods have no real moral compass, only the need to temporarily satiate an unquenchable thirst for power and control.
I breathe in the sulfuric air and use my light in the most iniquitous way yet.
Golden power ripples out of me in waves as a blacklit canopy of constellations forms overhead.
The star-structures look different for each soul.
Instead of pictures of gods, they depict the greatest of each soul’s sins, replaying the acts that sentenced them to eternal fire on a constant loop.
Drayven’s pallid skin sparkles under the dazzling celestial sky as he swipes a ringed knuckle across my cheekbone, lingering on the freckles that pepper them.
His green eyes sear into me and I know that he sees me—truly sees me.
Not the sunshine that the rest of the pantheon believes me only to be, but the deeper, darker shades of me that thrive in his gloam.
I am the last ember in the dying hearth, the flash of white lightning that cracks through the most torrential of storms, the dim light of the crescent moon under which the most scandalous of sins are committed.
And there are many, many sins I would like to commit with the Dark God who holds me flush against the hard stone of his chiseled chest.
The heat of his breath licks my skin as he leans close to my parted lips. “Are you still hungry, goddess?”
“Famished,” I whisper against him.
Drayven nips at my lip and the tangy iron of a single drop of blood pools in its center. “May I taste you?”
The depths of his familial magic, the gift from the Goddess of Blood to her only son, have long remained a rumor amongst the pantheon. Drayca inherited a thirst for it, driving her to push mortals into more and more battles in her name.
But Drayven’s inheritance is a mystery. It’s said that once he has your blood, he can control you, manipulating your thoughts, actions, and feelings without your consent.
“What will that do to me?” I ask.
“One taste of your blood and I will forever be able to find you, across any realm, any time. It will bond you to me. You will be the beacon in my endless night.”
Something akin to hope laces his words and colors our shared breath. A millennia of being drawn to him has culminated in this seemingly simple request. The slightest of movements and his tongue will lap up the essence of my life force, strong and full of power.
Though he doesn’t say it, I can hear it all the same. One drop of my blood in exchange for the eternal protection of the Dark God of Death.
It’s a small price to pay to be his to guard, his to watch—to be simply his. Though I don’t know why, a part of me longs to grant him this request.
I suck my bottom lip into my mouth, licking away the crimson drop as my eyes dance with devious delight.
“If you want to taste me,” I taunt, “you will need to ask with more than your words.”
“I should have known you’d want to play.” His cool chuckle rumbles through me as his shadows rise up to whisk us away again. “I hope you’re ready, my light.”
There is an eerie calmness in the Eternal Meadows—the place where docile souls spend their eternities. A misty fog covers their paradise, making everything gray and gloomy.
I walk the stone pathway that cuts through the rolling meadows, pass by the wooden homes whose curtains blow in the phantom breeze, and trail my fingers across the ashen-colored grass.
“Go ahead, Selene.” Drayven slides his hands into his pockets and leans back against the rock formation where we stand looking over the expanse of the meadow. “Do anything you want.”
The right lapel of his shirt falls open, further revealing the scrawling lines of magical ink that cover his skin.
I step toward him, drawn to the ever changing art that decorates the broad expanse of him.
Leaning in, I let my nose drag across the tattoos that creep up his neck until they kiss the underside of his strong jaw.
“Anything?” I breathe against him.
The Dark God stiffens, a primal growl rumbling in his throat as I step back and raise my palms to the sky.
What I intend to do here will require more magic than I’ve wielded before. I let it pool in my waiting hands, rushing through my veins like a bursting dam.
"If you’re going to stop me, do it now,” I yell over the swelling surge of power.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Desire drips from his every word as I unleash the might of my power.
The ground quakes under our feet, the gray giving way to the barest hint of red as I summon more of my light.
I pull deeply from the well of immortal power within me, drawing up more and more with each shaky breath.
The muscles of my arms strain as I physically shape the raw light into an orb, twisting and molding it between my hands.
Every ripple in its surface is imbued with my power.
My familial magic seeps out around the edges, washing over the barren meadows and leaving trails of flowers in its wake. Blooms in red, black, white, and purple cluster in the fields, with thick hedges and evergreen trees scattered throughout.
The ball of light that hovers between us grows larger as its heat begins to overtake me. A glistening trail of sweat drips down my chest, running between my breasts—a path that Drayven’s shadows follow expeditiously, both cooling and igniting me at the same time.
Air ignites like fire in my lungs as I burn through my power, the glowing red light expanding with each exhalation.
My vision clouds, wholly consumed by the scarlet light of the newborn sun.
The tips of my feet scrape against the ground as I levitate, following the sphere’s ascent into the Under Realm’s sky.
Every inch of me sizzles as I drown in the fiery waters of infernal power. The entire realm trembles under the weight of my light.
Not the darkness.
Not the infinite void of Death.
My light.
Shouts ring up from the homes below—souls emerging from their comfortable shadows to catch a glimpse of the celestial body and the goddess that birthed it.
Cool bands of wispy black magic skate across my skin, wrapping around my wrists and pulling me back toward the still quaking ground.
Drayven shields me from the rocks that crumble around us, gripping me by the ass and wrapping my legs around his waist. An anchor in the depthless sea of power that threatens to sweep me away completely.
“Do you still feel hungry?”
“Yes,” I pant. “Feed me, Dark One.”
Tattoos slither from the Dark God’s skin and slip in the space between us, sliding under the silk fabric and up my slick thighs. But unlike the last time, they don’t graze or tease.
My head throws back with a moaning scream as bands of Drayven’s magic thrust into me.
They curl and twist, stretching and filling every inch of me as the sun continues to expand.
The combination of searing power and his icy magic hurtles me toward the edge of pleasure, but just before I crest, they disappear.
I groan loudly at the absence as my eyes snap back to his. “Drayven,” I plead breathlessly.
The Dark God of Death captures my mouth, his tongue slipping between my lips to tangle with mine.
He grips my hair, pulling my head back to make his declaration.
“I’ve already told you, Light. You won’t find release on my shadows, or my hands, or my tongue, but I plan to use them all on you anyway. ”
“You’re a wicked god.”
“Yes, but I am your god.”
My chest heaves as Drayven’s shadows rip open the bodice of my dress. He wastes no time taking my nipple in his mouth while he twists the other between his finger and thumb.
The red sun hangs high in the sky now, casting a scarlet glow over his white hair.
I rake my fingers through it, guiding his head as he sucks.
His sharp canines scrape against the tender flesh of my breast, my back arching when I feel them break the skin.
But Drayven doesn’t taste my blood. Instead he moves to the other, letting the crimson liquid drip down my glowing skin.
My body quivers when his fingers slide into me and my power surges again. The red sun vibrates as our sweat mixes with my blood. Drayven holds perfectly still. I roll my hips, chasing the pleasure he denies me as the glowing star stretches overhead.
“Do you like it here?” he growls, more animal than man, as I ride his fingers.
“Yes,” I breathe.
“Good.” He licks the column of my throat, tasting the magic that coats my skin. “Because it likes you. It wants to bow to you.”
A column of shadows forms in my peripheral, morphing into something.
He spins me with preternatural speed, depositing my ass gently on the now-materialized velvet seat.
Scrawling black ink twines with the taut veins of his forearms as he leans in, clutching the arms of the chair and towering over me.