Thayla
Yemi drugged me.
Okay, well, she warned me she was going to do it before she did it.
The only reason I gave in to her persistence about me drinking the sleeping-drug-laced tea was because she promised it wouldn’t keep me asleep longer than eight hours.
Apparently, she and Iric asked Jay for exact measurements.
Despite the fact my eyes were starting to cross from all the reading material Nero gave me, I still put up a fight against the notion of me sleeping.
I’m glad I listened now.
The redness in my eyes and the bags under them have faded. Instead of looking half dead like I did last night, there’s color back on my cheeks and lips.
My soul…well, it’s still rebelling with a ferocity that takes my breath away.
It woke me up out of the dead of sleep at exactly the seven-hour and fifty-six-minute mark.
I popped out of bed and rushed to the kitchen, petrified I overslept.
I found Yemi there already fixing my coffee with V sitting on the counter talking with her. He reassured me of the time.
That eased my mind but not my soul. Between my gentle reassurances and the emotional barrier in place, it’s tolerable, though.
Four and a half more hours.
That’s how much longer you have to tolerate this, then you can devour, smother, hug, stroke, whatever you need to do to their souls.
I swear the small sliver left in me shivers as I rub my heart and stare at my reflection in the mirror.
My chest expands with my deep breath, and I pull my still damp hair on top of my head. My fingers trace down the armor I haven’t taken off in nearly two days. Not literally, but that’s what it feels like.
I cursed myself when I first arrived.
“Thayla, you ready?” Yemi calls from my bedroom.
“Coming.”
Fuck, I wouldn’t have survived these two days without her.
She’s been my saving grace and backbone.
I swear, no one better ever fuck with her again.
I’ll kill them.
I’d wage a war for that girl.
“Lambrit and Rose are already at Ellian’s office.
Iric and Nero are coming with us instead of Sevryn since this meeting is here and we may need some calmer emotions present.
Doren’s going to stay here and keep him company.
Havar’s outside, throwing his typical bitch fit about not coming to Valveilious with us. ”
I snicker at Yemi as she reads from her list. She doesn’t even glance up as we make our way down my hallway.
“We’re going to have to throw him a dinner party or something when this is all said and done so he feels special.”
She scoffs at me. “He’s already special. Ellian’s changed up his rotation and responsibilities for him. Not to mention he’s probably the God of Creatures’ favorite now thanks to Seismet’s, Verlet’s, and your powerful display. We keep spoiling him and he’s going to grow rotten.”
“Not rotten. We’re just sweetening him up. He’s our reprieve from overbearing men, and we need to keep it that way. Even Lambrit is getting a little too bossy. Speaking of which, did he or Ellian ever say who was meeting us other than the God of Scripture?”
“No, but they swore they have Domain Gods coming to meet you. So I took that as a win and didn’t push.”
My follow-up question dies on my tongue as we step out the front door and my feet fall still.
“What are you doing here?”
Gladian whips around at the sound of my voice. My gaze flicks to Mara for a moment before settling back on him.
“I sent for him.”
“What?” Yemi and I ask.
Sevryn crosses his arms and stares us both down.
“You said it yourself last night, Thayla. There were at least forty Dark Gods spread throughout the Goddess of Creation’s front lawn. Now, I got a lot of faith in our abilities, but let’s be real. The goal is to come out of this in one piece.”
“We are going to come out of it in one piece,” I grit out.
“Yeah, ’cause we’re going with you.”
“I told you not to talk, asshole,” Sevryn grunts, glaring at Gladian.
The giant little shit just rolls his eyes before meeting my gaze again.
“Mara can come,” I say.
“We both are coming with you, or we’ll meet you there on our own.”
“You don’t even know where the Goddess of Creation lives.”
“It won’t be that hard to follow the Chaos.”
My nostrils flare at him.
“What are you thinking?” Yemi asks me.
I turn my back to them and lower my voice.
“If he comes, he finds out about V.”
“Is that really such a big deal anymore? The God of Obliteration already knows about him. What’s the God of Strength going to do?”
I huff.
“What’s your resistance really about?” she presses, and I drop my crossed arms.
“I feel like the more I let him help, then I have to forgive him for what he did. I’m not ready to do that. I don’t know if or when I’ll ever be.”
“You don’t have to forgive shit. If he meant what he said to you the other day, then he’s going to come along with no strings or expectations attached.”
My heavy sigh whistles through my nose and I tighten my lips as I spin around.
“Fine.”
His shoulders, surprisingly, deflate, then he takes a step toward me with his hand held out.
“What?”
“The parchment. I’ll go ahead and sign. Sevryn said you were going to get the High Chancellor to bring it to me after your meetings anyway.”
I cut my eyes at Sevryn. Damn big mouth.
The parchment and pen appear, and I pass it over to him wordlessly.
I hate to admit it, but a touch of relief flutters through me. I was stressing his big ass would also refuse Ellian, then if any of the gods we’re about to meet said no as well, I would’ve been royally screwed.
“We’ll be here when you get back,” he swears, and I gesture for him to hand Yemi the parchment.
My attention moves to Mara, and I return her promising nod.
“Sevryn, get them caught up on the plan and we’ll be back soon.”
He smirks, giving me his middle finger just as our starshoots take us to the Sanctum.
He’s a little shit.
I can’t believe he asked him to come with us.
Him, Yemi, Iric, Doren, Nero, me, and Creed’s death swords would have been fine…
Maybe.
I scowl at the obsidian statues outside the Sanctum with a little more hatred in my heart than I’ve always had. Except for maybe Derivius’s. I detest his for the simple fact they’ve smoothed out his face when it should’ve been that vile bitch’s.
“Thayla, you coming?” Yemi asks, pulling me out of my glaring.
“Yeah, sorry.”
I don’t spare the obsidian stones another look as we march through the doors. We follow the familiar halls, and when we pass where we’d turn to go to Kyzen’s old office, my stomach cramps painfully. I breathe through it and carry on to the Chancellor’s hall.
As we approach Ellian’s office—which is Harriseen’s old one—laughter seeps through the wood and some of my tension fades.
At Yemi’s encouraging nod, I knock on the door.
“Come in,” Ellian calls out.
I give Lambrit a quick smile before focusing on the unfamiliar god. Warmth fills my chest with his sweet, tender gaze. I’m honestly a little shocked to see some age about him.
I mean, it takes millennia after millennia for us to look a day over thirty. The Beginning Gods never really age. So the fact he has wrinkles around his eyes and smile lines says something about how long and how much he’s lived through.
“Ah, you must be the infamous Ms. Thayla Godrun. I’m Quillin, God of Scripture. Your brother has been babbling about you since the moment we were introduced. No matter how much I ask about him, he diverts the conversation back to you.”
My lips twitch as I peek over at Lambrit. He’s beaming from ear to ear with a satisfied smirk on his mouth.
“I’m happy to hear it was all good things.” I arch a teasing brow. “Right?”
“Yes, yes. Come sit. He tells me you have a very interesting story to tell.”
“Oh,” I mutter, casting my eyes from him to Ellian, to Lambrit. “Well, truth be told, it’s really not my story to tell.”
“Nonsense. We all have a perspective. Let me hear yours.”
What he’s asking for is pretty big. It’s seriously not my place to tell the guys’ story. At least not every detail.
Once again, I seek Lambrit out.
He gives me a minuscule dip of his head, and I take a deep breath.
“Well, twenty years ago…”
The God of Scripture sits still with his eyes locked on mine as I tell only some of the events that happened that day in the Abandon when the guys rebelled.
I stick to sharing the facts I know and only expressing my own opinion about the situation.
How it affected the guys individually will never leave my lips, but I do point out that it changed them in a way that’s lasted this long.
His gaze flares just briefly when I mention the Law of Doppia Disaccord, but other than that, he doesn’t interrupt.
Not once.
When I finish, silence follows the echo of my sharp exhale for a long moment.
“You seek to undo this agreement that was written without their consent.”
He doesn’t ask, he states.
“Yes, sir.”
His gaze settles fully on me. It’s sharp, but not unkind.
“And you—well, your Valtrue—intends to replace it with choice.”
Another statement.
“Yes, sir.”
He runs his hand across his jaw multiple times as he seems to lose himself in his thoughts. I don’t push or break his moment. No one does.
“Do you know who tells the scripture after conflict, Ms. Godrun?”
I swallow.
I do, actually. Lambrit used to always complain about never getting both sides of a story.
“Yes, sir. The victor.”
“That’s correct,” he says. “It’s very rare that we get to hear the side of the fallen, and in your Valtrue members’ story, they were undoubtedly on the losing side of that story.”
My throat clogs and I clear it repeatedly so I can get my voice to work.
“They didn’t lose everything at least.”
“That’s a positive way of looking at it.”
I give him a pinched smile. “I’m trying to stay as positive as possible these days.”
His gaze scans everyone in the room. He stays focused on Lambrit for a heartbeat before shifting in his chair.
“Bring it forward then.”
My brows scrunch together. “I’m sorry?”
“The parchment I need to sign.”
“Really?” Lambrit asks before I can.