Chapter 16
SELENE
Eighteen days later
The worn cobblestone streets of the capital city are empty.
Rain falls gently from the sky, water coursing through the mortar from the earlier deluge.
Lanterns hanging from the doorways of homes are the only light, the moon dark and hidden from view.
Constellations decorate the sky, the pale outlines of a wolf and an owl, sigils of the gods I’d sooner forget.
The scrap of worn parchment in my hand crinkles as I check it once more.
213 Regent Row, Amale
The scrawled writing matches the brass numbers that adorn the weathered door in front of me.
I raise my fist and knock on the door, barely recognizing my skin.
The glow of my immortal body has been traded for the pale, lifeless complexion of a mortal.
The infinite power of a god diminished until I can do nothing but wield a trio of elements.
The loss of magic has been the hardest part of exile, for both myself and the tiny goddess inside me— that and the parting gift from her father. For days, I hid in the confines of an abandoned home, struggling to breathe in this realm.
The boy prince never left my side, seemingly unaffected by the change. While my body morphed and adapted to the limits of my new existence, the child clung to my side, never straying from the fate growing in my womb.
I knock again, this time with urgency as the child hidden under my brown cloak squeezes my leg tightly. The Goddess of Truth opens the door, her raven hair and violet eyes sparkling in the lantern light.
“Taura,” I say in a hushed voice.
“Where is he?” she asks, motioning for us to enter.
The Prince of the Gods peeks out from underneath my cloak. He looks up at me, silver eyes locking onto my golden gaze in permission. I nod once, reassuring him of our safety here.
“Very good,” the Goddess of Truth says. “Rhea, come meet your son.”
A mortal woman with honey hair and a gentle smile drops to her knees slowly in front of the child, her own baby still attached to her breast.
“Hello there, little one.” The soothing cadence of her voice draws the prince from hiding. “It’s okay. I am a friend.”
He takes tentative steps towards her, his eyes filled with curiosity. His small hands reach toward the baby in her arms, gently caressing its blonde hair.
“This is your brother. And so is he.” The woman points to another child.
A boy, only a year or two older than the prince, stands in the corner. His hair is brown, a perfect match to the roughspun clothing of this country’s commonfolk, but his eyes match those of his mother. Amber irises full of warmth and an innate kindness.
The child steps closer to them, carefully examining the onyx-haired boy.
“What’s his name?” His small voice squeaks out.
“His true name cannot be spoken in this realm,” Taura cautions quickly. “His father cannot know he is here until he’s strong enough to face him.”
“Callan.” My hand drifts to my belly and his fated princess inside. “She called him Callan in your vision, Taura.”
“Callan,” Rhea repeats. “Do you like it?” She brushes the hair from his face as the prince smiles. “Yes, I think that will suit you just fine, Cal.”
“Cal,” the young boy says, taking the prince’s hand into his. “Brother.”
Rhea wraps the children in her arms as Taura takes my hand and leads me out of the door and onto the cobblestone streets. We leave the family of four, granting them the privacy to adapt to their new circumstances.
“He’ll thrive here, Selene.” The Goddess of Truth’s irises shift from blue to purple and back again. “Tell me about the letter from your sisters.”
“It seems Nina misheard everything we told her and has spread the news that an heir will lead us back home,” I say with a sigh. “So off they’ve all gone to create their own heirs.”
“This land is ripe with men eager to solidify their power.”
“Power.” I scoff. “What do they know about power?”
“What is power if not control?” Truth falls from the goddess’ lips. “They don’t have magic, but they have influence and money and armies that serve them.”
“My sisters will never be happy in the background serving mortal men.”
“They don’t need to be happy, they need to survive,” she says flatly. “Look around you. Do you see luxury here?”
There is no life fit for a goddess, even a fallen one, anywhere but the palaces and manors of this realm’s rulers.
Patriarchy reigns supreme here and women are only worth what their bodies can provide.
Marriage to these men ensures a life for my sisters twofold—a lifestyle more akin to what they’re accustomed to, free from the perils of poverty, and an opportunity to fulfill a misheard prophecy.
You cannot put a price on hope, even if it’s a farce.
“Where will I go?” I ask.
The princeling doesn’t need me anymore. In fact, he needs none of us.
The further removed from the pantheon and the influence of the gods, the better his chances of growing into a ruler worth following.
Taura gave the human woman everything she’ll need once his powers manifest—whenever and however that happens in this cursed realm.
Taura squeezes my shoulder. “It’s not the Under Realm, but the Emerald Region might give you a sliver of comfort.”
Emerald. The color of his eyes. The color of his daughter’s eyes.
“You need to hurry, Light. Your lie won’t hold up if you wait much longer.”
Taura is the only other god in this realm who knows the truth. If I have any hope of passing this child off as a demigod—the child of a mortal man—I need to marry now.
Mikais cannot know the babe is the Princess of the Under Realm, just as he cannot know that the boy with gray eyes is the Prince of the Gods.
One day, when they’re ready and destiny can wait no longer, they will find each other. The realms and mortals who raised them will never be able to suppress the cunning and ruthlessness passed down from the kings who sired them.
Mikais is just as cutthroat, but if he stands in the way of their fate, I have no doubt he’ll fall.
Will I be around to see it? Do I even want to be alive that long?
I twist the silver ring on my thumb, the symbol of our love growing heavier by the minute. My heart aches at the idea of spending what remains of my life at the side of anyone other than Drayven.
“Go,” Taura urges as she slips a piece of parchment in my hands. “Go to the Eastern Sea. You’ll find Arcasia in the waters and a young governor in a cottage. You need them both.”
I nod in appreciation as the Goddess of Truth turns and disappears down the dark alleyway. The parchment feels heavy in my hands, and I know without reading who the missive is from.
My fingers tremble as they slip below the black wax seal, the embossed moth sigil of the Dark God fluttering to the cobblestones below.
Live, my light. Whatever you must do is already forgiven.
Tears fill my eyes, a single drop spreading across the letter as it falls to the parchment.
I am a goddess, but I am so much more.
This is the true measure of a woman—the ability to carry on, to swallow down her pride and discomfort and do what must be done. I don’t even know the life that grows inside me, but I know I will do anything to keep her safe.
The god blades in my pocket grow heavy with promise.
I could use them, these impossibly sharp blades.
I could ignore Taura’s words and take my fate into my own hands.
I could slaughter every human in this realm one by one until I force the Reaper of Souls himself to appear and collect them—if only to see his face again, even for a fleeting second.
But that doesn’t help our daughter.
I read the words again slowly, savoring every syllable, before carefully folding Drayven’s letter and slipping it into the bodice of my dress against my heart. Where he will always remain until we can be together again.
The sound of laughter drifts from the open window as the princeling—Callan—chases his new brother playfully.
I slip one of the daggers from my pocket.
Black fabric covers the alloy blade and the protection runes etched into it.
I make eye contact with the human woman and nod as I place the weapon of destiny on the dark wood seal.
He will need this more than I will.
With a resigned sigh, I turn and head for the Emerald Region of Corinth and the future that awaits us both there.