Chapter 61
“Did you think I’d oblige to your requests forever, brother?” Procyon growled through gritted teeth. Araes placed himself between the autumn king and his goddess. He’d die before ever allowing the vile fuck to lay even a finger on Tethys again.
Altair, feeling the violent rage seeping from his brother’s skin, stepped beside Araes.
He, too, stiffened into a fighting stance.
This wouldn’t be an easy confrontation. Eos above, it might not be a conversation at all.
Procyon had a glint in his eye that felt all too similar to a rabid dog, snarling and foaming at the mouth.
Ready to bite.
“Procyon, listen to me. You need to collect yourself. Before I’m forced to do something we both regret,” Altair said, his voice low and defensive.
“Oh fuck you. You’ve kept what is mine from me long enough. Tethys is coming with me to Canissa. Step aside and allow me to take my wife from this place, or you’ll be a tragic casualty,” Procyon said, prowling through the doorway.
Araes’s heart pounded against his chest, the fight or flight already coursing through him—exciting every muscle fiber and bone shard in his body. He adjusted his grip around the hilt of his blade. Its silver edge sent sunbeams scattering through the room.
“She’s not going anywhere with you,” Araes spat. The god’s head snapped in his direction. Araes’s legs strained to hold steady beneath the sheer immortal weight of Procyon’s enraged attention. Procyon snapped a finger, and when Araes’s bones didn’t smash into a thousand pieces, he snapped again.
“There’s no use wasting your energy. This palace is warded.
You can’t use magic for violence inside these walls,” Altair said, backing closer to Tethys.
Araes threw her a glance. Like a caged dove, her shallow rise and fall of her breath sent waves of anger through him.
Her eyes darted from the lieutenant to the autumn king.
“Proc…don’t. Please. You don’t understand what’s at stake here,” Tethys started.
“Goddess, don’t.” Araes placed a hand behind his back, reassuring her of the lifeline he’d provide.
“I don’t care what’s at stake, you stupid bitch. You’re my wife. You took an oath of marriage, and judging from lieutenant dickhead’s reaction over there, you’ve broken it entirely,” Procyon said, closing the distance further.
“I’d be careful without your magic if I were you,” Araes growled, shifting toward the goddess. Every hair on his body stood pin straight. Procyon got away with so much in his existence, but this time, the lieutenant wouldn’t hesitate to plunge his blade in the god’s chest if he got too close.
“Is that a threat, Lieutenant?” Procyon curled his lip.
“Absolutely.”
“Let’s all take a breath,” Altair said, but even his calming demeanor couldn’t cut the tension buzzing between the two males. “Might I remind you both that we’re all fighting a common enemy.”
“See now, I don’t think I agree with you on that one, brother. This mortal thinks he can take what’s rightfully mine, and I’ve never taken kindly to thieves,” Procyon spat.
“And I don’t take kindly to men who hurt their wives.” Araes’s voice was far more lethal than the deadliest of venoms. The autumn king prowled closer.
“Would all three of you just shut the fuck up? Lieutenant Araes, I thank you for defending my honor, but Eos above, let me fight my own battle. Procyon, I think it’s time we had a discussion about the future of this marriage.
And Altair, you’ve opened your home to me, provided guidance in a time of so much unknown, but right now we don’t need a peacemaker. ”
Tethys pushed between Araes and Altair and faced her husband.
“It seems the little bird finally found her song,” Procyon said, crossing his arms. “No longer hiding behind big brother and her pathetic mortal.”
“You need to leave, Proc. This marriage is a curse, and I want out. It’s clearly not serving its purpose in helping our realms. Why continue?
” Araes watched as Tethys unleashed all that rage he so often saw her swallow.
Something like pride welled in his chest, but only for a heartbeat as his eyes met Procyon’s kindling wrath.
“One pump of your lieutenant’s cock and you’ve found your fire, Tethys. I’ll admit, I didn’t think you had it in you.”
Araes saw red. His nostrils flared with bloodlust as he raised his sword.
“Say another word and I won’t hesitate to cut that vile tongue from your mouth,” Araes seethed.
The blade begged for bloodshed in his hand.
It cried for violence. He clenched his jaw, keeping his feet rooted to the ground.
Tethys needed this confrontation. She’d found her voice, and although he wasn’t sure what drove that courage from her lips, he knew she needed to speak for herself.
“You will never hurt me again, Procyon. Never again,” she said, curling her lip. “Your arrogance has allowed the rebels to slip into my city, slaughter my people, and burn my home to the ground. Go back to Canissa, before your people cause any more destruction.”
Procyon’s nostrils flared, like a bull ready to charge. Araes raised his weapon once more, but a graceful hand cut him short.
“No. No more violence. There’s already been too much.
Procyon, go. Sort out your people. Before I’m forced to take action against them.
” His goddess’s threat sent shivers down his spine.
There she stood in all her glory. The wards surrounding the palace may have evened the playing ground between the two immortals, but in this moment, her power far outshined that of the autumn king’s.
“Fine. I promise you, little bird, you’ll regret this.” Procyon pointed a calloused index finger directly at her chest. “I can feel that little secret of yours growing inside of you. Like vermin. Don’t think for a second that this is over.”
Tethys’s shoulders stiffened beneath the weight of his threat, but she refused to yield.
“We’ll see about that, husband,” she replied, spitting the last word as if it were a rotten bite of fruit.
Procyon, still a serpent ready to strike, retrieved a scroll from his trouser pocket.
The ceramic plates of breakfast, now cold and attracting gnats, quivered as he slammed it on the dining table.
“A direct message from General Otto. During my meeting with the generals to discuss peace terms, I offered to hand deliver it all the way here. Count your days, Lieutenant. Your time will come, too.”
With that, the god snapped his fingers and disappeared into dust, leaving only the lingering scent of rotten leaves and frosted death.
? ? ?
It wasn’t until the fresh seaside air cast out every sliver of Procyon’s essence that Tethys could breathe again.
She kept her fingers laced tightly together to keep them from trembling.
Whether it was fear, rage, or relief that sent her stomach turning, she wasn’t sure, but she’d made a promise to keep fighting, to make her voice known, and when it mattered the most, she’d let her words ring.
Something Procyon said haunted her still, echoing through her head.
I can feel that little secret of yours growing inside of you.
Had he sensed her pregnancy? Somehow felt the second heartbeat now thrumming through her?
It wasn’t possible. She hadn’t even known herself.
Nothing about her body felt different. Not her bones. Not her blood. Not even her belly.
“I think I need something a bit stronger than coffee,” Altair said, starting for the cabinette opposite the windows. “Anyone else?”
Tethys shook her head and returned to her seat. Thoughts raced through her, tangling her brain until it was a matted mess. She glanced toward Araes. His expression turned white as he unrolled the scroll and read its contents.
“What is it, Araes?” she asked, watching her lieutenant’s brow furrow.
“They’re new orders,” he whispered, his chest rising slowly with heavy breaths. Tethys braced herself against the long-back chair, feeling the woven matting dig into her thighs.
“What does it say?” she asked, her throat dry.
Araes fixed his gaze upon her with all color drained from his face. Her heart shattered. He didn’t have to read the message from its page. Tethys knew. He was being called home.
“I’m to return to Venia immediately. They’ve located the rebel’s outpost just outside the city. The 15th is to lead the invasion.”
The sky, the ground, even the whole damned ocean, shattered into fragments. Tethys felt the walls cave in around them, and shards of her world, like glass, cut into her skin. The universe, and whatever powers wove the strands of time and fate together, now laughed in her face.
“You can’t go,” she said, her eyes filtering the darkness shrouding her vision. “I forbid it. We’ll write to General Otto. He does not outrank me, not even now. I won’t let them take you away.”
Araes bit his lip. Tethys couldn’t move. Her feet refused to take her to him. To wrap her arms around him and never let go. After everything they’d fought for, everything they’d created together and shared. When she’d finally found a sliver of peace, the world intended on stealing it.
This time, she wouldn’t let it.
“I won’t allow this.”
“You must, sister,” Altair said, turning from the window.
“No,” Tethys replied, her fists white knuckled at her sides.
“If he doesn’t return, they’ll come asking questions. The east and west are already tearing themselves apart. What would happen if a controversy like this” —he gestured between them— “came to light? The Venians would lose faith in their queen, and the treaty is barely hanging on by a thread.”
Tethys knew her older brother was right, but acceptance was a stubborn thing. The future was far less daunting with Araes by her side. How could she possibly face it alone? The little light inside of her blinked as if in agreement.
“Please, Araes. Stay with me,” she whispered, letting tears fall from her cheeks. Each droplet met hard, varnished wood and scattered on impact. She wondered if she, too, would plummet to some end, fracturing into thousands of pieces. Or maybe she’d already broken.
“The Southern King is right, Goddess. It will tear me apart, but I must go back,” Araes said, kneeling beside her chair.
His fingers found hers beneath the table and the touch on her skin.
Although supposed to be a gentle reassurance, was nothing but heartbreak.
“But I promise you, whether in this life or the next, I will find you. I will always find you.”
“Stay with me,” she whispered, her chest tight and lips salty with grief. “Please.”
Araes brushed a kiss across her forehead. She begged and prayed and pleaded to Eos and Astraeus and the whole damned universe to freeze the projection of time. To stay in this moment where his warmth met hers. But her pleas went unanswered, and the place where his lips had once been grew cold.
Altair let out an audible breath, reminding them of the curious eyes lingering in the room.
Tethys didn’t care. Let them see. Let them spread their whispers.
If this truly was to be the last time she’d feel Araes’s body against hers, then let the whole fucking continent watch.
She pulled him close, refusing to loosen her grip on his tunic, and placed her mouth to his.
For just a moment, the world stilled. The breeze stopped, and the ocean froze. But time was a relentless force, like a river refusing to yield to its dam. When Araes pulled away, he, too, had tears cascading down his chin.
“I’ll have the staff collect your things and prepare a mount for you,” Altair said, returning to his seat at the table’s head. “Leave at dawn. It will be a long journey home.”