Chapter 28
Jessamine stared down at the dead version of Elric and held her breath with him. Why would he want her to see how horrible the gods were?
She twisted her shaking hands in the wrap that failed to keep her warm. “What?”
“Humanity viewed the gods as wonderful creatures who came down to help everyone. Not a single god here, not even me, really looked at humans as though they were worth helping. You were all tools. A means to an end. Even those who worshipped without question, and some who still worship my family even though there are many who shun them, those people would do anything for gods who did not care for them.”
He wasn’t looking at her, though. It was like he was saying the words to himself. To the broken man on the floor whose own family continued to talk while he died in front of them, frozen as he was.
And then the younger version of Elric gasped.
His neck gave a sick crack, twisting back into place as his back arched and his eyes flew open.
She recognized the pain there. The fear.
The sudden realization that he wasn’t dead at all and the thunderous ache in his heart that said he had to run for no reason at all.
She remembered it. Because it was the same way she had felt when he’d raised her from the dead.
“But why?”
“Because they were shit gods,” he muttered, but then shook himself.
“No, not just that. Because I wanted you to know that fighting for the gods has always been a fool’s errand.
If anyone should know that, it was you. Losing them was the best thing that could have happened to humanity.
It’s just… a lot of people don’t realize that yet. ”
She frowned. “And that’s why you don’t want people to worship you? Is that why you’re so hesitant to grow the coven?”
She watched the words stick in his mouth. For a moment, he seemed terrified by his own thoughts until he finally relented. “No one deserves to be a god, Jessamine. Not even me.”
The memory faded around them, slowly but surely.
And she looked at all the gods one more time.
Who else would have the chance to see them like this?
All of them still alive, still looking at the world with a shrewd gaze for what it could give them.
Every single one of them made her uncomfortable, though.
Each one of them was wrong in some way. Twisted and corrupted so much that it bled through their very pores.
Her bedroom came back into view. Elric still sat on her bed, staring down at his now-empty hands. She hated seeing him like this. Because she knew that there was still a part of him that was good.
But she was still so mad at him. So angry that he hadn’t told her how he’d stolen her very soul. Who did that? What kind of a person could do that to the person they loved?
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” she finally said, but then pointed to the door. “Now you can get out.”
A shaky, long breath expelled from his lungs. “If that’s what you want.” But then he paused at the door, looking back at her. “Do you miss us at all?”
“Desperately,” she replied. “But I am so angry at you that I cannot even think through the anger.”
He nodded once, twice, and then left.
Life without him was boring. She went to bed, she talked with the other witches, she learned what she could, all while feeling like she was in a fog.
The worst part was that she did miss him.
Terribly. She wanted nothing more than to be at his side, knowing what he was thinking about, what he was going through.
She wanted to talk to him about every step she was thinking of taking, and it frustrated her to no end to realize that she didn’t want to make big decisions without his approval.
Because she adored him. Because she genuinely believed that he had good opinions and he was, regularly, her voice of reason.
Even standing in the garden didn’t help. She liked to be outside to think. It helped her mind to still and her heart to relax a little. But now being outside didn’t change anything whatsoever.
She tilted her head back, trying to breathe through the worries that plagued her.
Fortuna was part of something so much more than any of them could have guessed.
Leon had some magic spell up his sleeve that would trick the entire world into doing…
what? All they’d uncovered thus far were more questions and more fears that she just couldn’t understand.
Fortuna knew more than she was letting on. When they were children, Fortuna had always been the ambitious one. Power had been all her cousin wanted, but now it seemed like she hungered for more than that. She wanted to be the queen, whom everyone feared. Leon was the easiest way to get there.
But there wasn’t a way to stop her. Not yet, at least.
Jessamine hated evenings like this. Everything felt too tight—her shirt, her pants, even her skin wrapped her in an inadequate prison.
“I feel like I’m missing something,” she muttered.
“I know a way to clear your mind.” The silken-smooth voice made every part of her shiver.
And therein lay another problem. Every time Elric walked by her, she felt like her entire body was on fire. She wanted him. She hadn’t had nearly enough of him. This deathless god lived inside of her head without her ever giving him permission to be there.
“Whatever you’re thinking, I’m still mad at you.”
But that voice trickled from over her shoulder, dripping down between her breasts in tantalizing need. “You can still be angry at me and let me do what I want to do with you.”
That hunger in her grew ever more. She hated how weak she was. She hated that he was even here.
Elric circled her, and the moonlight played across the revealed muscles of his chest. He was shirtless and glorious.
All that smooth muscle laid out for her to see was far too tempting.
He knew it, too. He knew what he was doing to her as he paraded in front of her and then lifted an arm over his head as though he was stretching.
“Elric. I haven’t decided how to feel about what you did.”
“You don’t have to decide. But why punish both of us? At least you could get something out of it.” He reached for her, those hands too hesitant when she knew how he could grab her.
Then he did. He had his hands on her waist, slowly pushed her backward, step by step. “Why punish yourself? You know what you want. I know what you want. Use me, gravesinger. I’m begging you to.”
She let him push her until her back hit a wall. A cool breeze brushed along her suddenly overheated skin as Elric braced himself on his forearm just above her head. Trapped against his body, all she could think about was the way he smelled so warm and how needy she suddenly was.
Pressing her thighs together, she tried her best to stay grounded. “I don’t see you begging.”
“Is that what you need?” He quirked a brow. “I will take whatever you give me, gravesinger. If you think I am above begging because I am a god, you would be sorely mistaken. If you want to use me, then use me. It’s better than your silence.”
She was a weak, stupid woman. Because she put her hand on his shoulder and gently pushed down.
He didn’t hesitate. This unending god filled with power sank to his knees. He placed his palms on his thighs, looking up at her with complete and utter joy on his face.
“Beg me,” she said, her voice ragged with some emotion she could not name. Anger? Yes. Frustration? Certainly. But also something more.
For a moment, his eyes widened. But then she saw something shift in him. Some part of her deathless god who needed to pay a penance for what he had done with her. To her.
His hands glided up her thighs, fingers trailing along her skin even as he shifted closer. “You are the only goddess I will ever worship,” he murmured. “Please. Let me touch you.”
“You’re already touching me.”
“Let me taste you.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Maybe. Beg me more.”
“I have been unable to sleep without you by my side. The mere thought of you lying in our bed, without me, is torture. I wish nothing more than to pleasure you, nightmare. I do not even require pleasure of my own. Just let me make you feel better.” He leaned forward, pressing an open-mouthed kiss just above her hip.
“If you want to use me, then I will grovel at your feet for an ounce of your attention.”
The words were eerily similar to what he said the other gods had done to humans. Eerily similar to the Warrior King’s words himself.
This man. He always managed to get under her skin.
She fisted a handful of his hair, making him look at her. “I have my own needs, Deathless One. You are lucky that you satisfy those needs.”
Those wide eyes still stared up at her. “What does that mean?”
She tugged on his hair, making him slide his way up her body until their mouths were just a breath apart. “It means, I think you’re right. I don’t have to like you right now to fuck you. Because you are ever so good at fucking.”
Their mouths crashed together. She wasn’t sure if she was the first one to move forward, or if it was him. It didn’t matter as he groaned into her mouth and surged forward. Elric smashed his hips into hers, shoving her against the wall infinitely more firmly as all of a sudden he consumed her.
His lips tasted like desperation. His movements were frantic as his hands grabbed her waist, one sliding up her ribs and the other down to palm her ass.
She could feel the hard bar of him pressed against her belly, but also she knew that this was his chance to show her what he wanted. What he needed.
It was also her chance to show him that she would not be controlled.
Breathing hard, she nipped hard at his lips. “I hate that you thought you could do this to me.”
“I know,” he murmured, pulling away from kissing her to press those kisses to her neck instead. His hand came up, palming her breast and flicking his thumb over her nipple in the way he knew she liked.