Chapter 40 Fury
forty
Fury
I’ve waited centuries for this moment. A moment I thought would never come. So far from my mind, I didn’t even dream of it. The only dreams I had were of her, my Dove—my saviour—and the other Gods I intend to kill.
Oona put me on this island, along with Osear and Oriel, because they weren’t smart enough to find a way to be done with me for good. I won’t make the same mistake as them.
My eyes do not leave Dove. She moves with determination in her eyes from Moyrie to Calypso to Rivern, each God descendent waiting on her every word. Dove doesn’t realise how magnetic she is. She was never meant to be hidden away under a temple. Dove was always meant to have her fierceness on show.
She eagerly recites the last of the Goddess’s song to Rivern, spending the least amount of time with him as he’s already heard it before. Tendrils of her hair, which have been braided down her back, whip around her face.
A sense of urgency overrides my form, running through my blackened veins. Finally, I have everything I desire, right on the precipice of becoming mine.
I’m so close to having my vengeance. What forms the Gods have taken once they landed on Maia is a mystery to me. I know they are here. Our power is the same in its workings. It flows to me from the ocean, in the opposite direction to Haven.
They may have abandoned their kingdoms on these forgotten lands centuries ago, but they have not moved on from this world altogether. It took us an age to find this place. I knew they wouldn’t just give it up.
They grew too impatient.
Just like I am now, staring at her. Green eyes shift to look at me every few movements. The bond is saying Dove is concerned about what I will do. Whether she made the right decision, bonding with me.
It was her only choice.
She will submit to me.
I don’t want to see her on her knees. No. I want to see her beside me. My equal in every way—another fantasy I have not been able to shake. My Dove in all her fiery glory.
I’m going to make her see that she is mine.
The fae and the wolf can stick around. I know they make her happy. She will see my obsession with her is endless. We will make our own world together, where we will live for eternity.
Stepping away from the others, she walks over to me, her eyes not leaving mine. Dove has seen my soul, and her eyes are calling to see it again.
My wings flap restlessly behind me. She will look so beautiful with wings of her own.
Tapping into her thoughts, I hear her loud and clear. Dove is wondering what I’m thinking. My lips quirk. She is the majority of my thoughts. I’ve blocked most of myself from her, just drip-feeding her bits and pieces through the bond. I feel everything from her, though, and I want it all.
I want her.
“They have the basics. We might as well start working through it together as a group and see what happens. Unless there’s anything special we need to do?” she asks.
“They will need to spill a drop of blood while they sing.” I flex my hand out before us, forming a silver dagger out of thin air, sharp enough to cut through skin.
My one party trick on this island is being able to create objects from my mind—clothing, furniture, weapons.
They’ve only come in handy over the last several turns after Dove stepped on my island.
I will also need to shed a drop of blood. Only Gods can hurt other Gods, so I will be ripping into my flesh.
Handing the dagger over to Dove, she relays the information to each person in our circle.
“Stand inside the circle, Pet,” I tell her through the bond.
“Why? You don’t need me for this. I’m not one of your God creations.”
“Yes, but the others will need you to correct them if they mess up the words, and having you stand in the centre won’t affect the magic.”
She pouts, her faultless lips bowing. Dove doesn’t want to be the centre of attention. I will make her. This is just practice for when our own creations are bowing at her feet.
I don’t take no for an answer, sending my insistence down the threads of our bond.
“Okay,” she huffs, moving into the centre of our small circle. Gideon stands off to the side with Saff and Oro, watching on expectantly, not making a sound.
My creations know how important this moment is to me. The great God Wars took so much from all of us. They were the catalyst for my imprisonment and the deaths of their mates.
I don’t expect this ceremony to be anything more than a song, a simple drop of blood and my power returning.
Once my full force returns, I will know it worked.
There is a lingering strand of doubt in my thoughts.
Oona told me centuries past this was the way to get me off the island, however, truth was never a specialty of the Gods.
What if it was all a lie?
What if there is no way off this island?
I focus on Dove, my strength hidden in mortal form, the scar on her neck a staunch reminder that this is not the worst Oona could do to me.
Losing her would be the worst thing. Without Dove, I would burn the world down.
There would be no reason for me to fraternise with any of the creations of the forgotten lands. Even my beasts have forsaken me.
Dove starts singing, her voice a lulling beauty that draws me in.
The others begin to move with the sounds, a strange mix of pitches pouring over the black sand underfoot.
I join in last, my deeper baritone moving effortlessly with my bonded’s.
The fae is a lilting masculine that fits effortlessly with our sound.
The realisation is slightly frustrating.
Both Calypso and Moyrie sing in their native tongues.
The magic should see through language barriers, just as a God can.
The dagger is passed around while we continue our song.
Pricks are made on fingers, blood squeezed out, falling on the ashy ground below.
I place my wrist in my mouth and rip, the only way I will get any of the black inside me to ooze out.
Dove flinches, feeling what I’ve done through the bond.
Only a drop of blood comes free, just enough to hit the ground below, and the slight cut is healed again.
No dagger or sword could do that—only the hands of a God.
The song stops.
Nothing happens.
We repeat it.
We repeat the song over and over. Waiting for a jolt of lightning. Maybe a shaking of the ground. Possibly a flash of light.
Nothing happens.
The others have the song down. I hear it. The words are correct. The blood is spilt, and I have the proper heirs. I smell Oona, Osear and Oriel all over these three like a bad odour.
Something is wrong. I can’t figure out what it could be.
Rivern is the first to break before we head into another round. “How many times do we have to do this before it works?”
“We do it until my power is back,” I growl down the bond. The words travel through Dove before they hit him. Her body trembles. She’ll never admit it, but she loves my voice. It sets her whole body into a state of need.
Rivern feels it, too, making him frown.
Dove looks around our circle. Moyrie and Calypso repeat Rivern’s sentiments without understanding what he said.
They are all weak excuses for leaders if they can’t stand in a circle and sing a song.
My pet steps closer to me, reaching out her fingertips.
My growing ire falls off me in waves, directed at the three people who can’t finish.
“Maybe we need to take a break. Have some food and rest.” Her hands land on my upper arm.
That touch instantly brings me back to her.
Springtime green eyes latch on to mine. “Once we are well rested, we can start again,” her voice sounds small, like she’s trying to tame a wild beast. Maybe she is.
That doesn’t stop the unrelenting storm rising within me, growing. My hands fist at my sides.
In my turmoil, I slip up, my barrier slightly ajar, and she manages to worm her way in, seeing the frustration that grips me tightly.
“We will do this until I am free,” I say the words only to her.
She takes another step closer, her chest mere inches from my stomach.
Her breasts heave in the black corset I put her in.
That was a good choice. Fates, if I don’t get off this island, I will spend the rest of eternity ravishing her.
I’ll keep her in my tower. I don’t fucking care what the others think.
“You can’t expect us to continue without rest. That’s not a reasonable request, Fury.”
“I never said I was reasonable,” I ground out through my teeth.
I don’t know if she’s doing it on purpose, but her long brown eyelashes flutter up at me, focusing all of my heat into my cock, as do the fingers that run tantalisingly down the centre of my chest. Her need is undeniable.
I can’t help myself when I grab her wrist and pull her tightly into me.
Her eyes go wide, pupils dilating.
Fates, I would die for this woman.
Catching me off guard, something sharp presses under my chin—the silver dagger. My little spitfire is trying to threaten me. Cute.
The urge to laugh takes over, the storm turned, lustful thoughts brewing inside.
“Spitfire, that dagger can not penetrate my skin.”
Her perfectly pink lips quirk—my new nickname for her making the bond hum happily.
“But it can penetrate mine.” Her voice is a soft caress across my skin. It’s a drug to my senses because when she speaks. I lose all my wits.
This time, the dagger is at her own throat, pressing into the soft, creamy flesh.
“You wouldn’t harm yourself,” I goad her. On the inside—Fates, on the inside, the bond is screaming at me.
Protect her.
Protect her.
PROTECT HER.
A deep growl comes from the dyre wolf behind us.
Rivern interjects the roughened sound, asking, “What are you doing, love?” My eyes flick for the briefest moment to the others.
Moyrie has halted halfway to us with Rivern’s hand on her shoulder, Calypso nonchalantly watching on, not having moved a muscle.
My vision returns to Dove, my gaze wholly focused on that dagger, where it leans against the veins under her skin—a delicate, erratic beating underneath. The life force that could take her from me at any moment.
I won’t allow it.
I am a God. She is bonded to me for eternity.
She will never be taken from me.