Chapter Forty #2
Allegra inclined her head, thoughtful. ‘Indeed. It sounds near impossible. And yet…’ Her voice softened into a bitter edge. ‘I would not put it past him. If there’s a way to reduce every kingdom to dust, he will find it.’
Mal brought a finger to her lips, tracing the curve of her lower one with the edge of her nail. ‘If I awaken my powers,’ she said quietly, ‘I could stop him.’
‘I wouldn’t be so certain.’
Mal’s gaze drifted towards her. ‘Why not?’
‘Because I don’t believe Hagan acts alone.’
Mal leant back against the cold, unforgiving stone of her chair. ‘Gods?’
Allegra gave a solemn nod. ‘I’ve always suspected he’s had help, something beyond our world guiding him.’
Mal considered the notion, unease coiling slowly in her chest. Yes… perhaps it was true. She had seen enough strangeness, enough power to believe such things now. ‘But what god would willingly aid him?’
A voice, smooth as silk and sharp as glass, answered from across the room.
‘My sister, without question.’
Mal’s head snapped up. Thanatos stood framed in the doorway, lounging against the carved arch as though he had always belonged there. His clothes were black as spilt ink, clinging with artful precision to his lean, sculpted form.
But it wasn’t him that drew Mal’s ire, it was the way Allegra looked at him. Her purple eyes shimmered, not with fear, but intrigue. Hunger. Mal stiffened. She didn’t like it.
‘Your sister?’ Mal echoed, forcing her voice to remain even as the knot twisted tighter in her belly.
Thanatos smirked, gliding forward with feline grace. He stopped beside Allegra and, with infuriating ease, took the seat next to her. He leaned in close, just enough to make Mal’s pulse flicker.
She paid no heed to the way his dark eyes lingered on her, nor to the curve of his lips as they twisted into a wicked smile, one that told her he had noticed. He knew she didn’t appreciate the closeness he offered Allegra, and it pleased him.
‘I do have a sister,’ Thanatos said at last, his voice silk-draped in shadow, as he languidly traced the rim of his goblet with a finger before pouring Allegra another glass.
‘And she is...?’ Mal prompted, her tone clipped with growing impatience, for he seemed too preoccupied playing host to offer a proper answer.
‘Her name is Eris,’ he said eventually. ‘Goddess of chaos and conflict. She thrives on disorder, and delights in sowing it wherever she can. I haven’t seen her in decades, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s somehow entangled in all this.’
‘Why would she involve herself?’
Thanatos shrugged, as though the answer were obvious.
‘She’s a goddess, likely a restless one at that, with little to amuse her.
Her power waxes with the chaos she causes.
That alone would be reason enough. She could choose to wed and gain strength through divine union, but Eris has never taken to the idea of sharing.
’ A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. ‘Any fool who tried to bind her would likely end up in agony for the rest of eternity. She’d torture them relentlessly before surrendering even a sliver of her power. ’
‘Is there a way to kill her?’ Mal asked, her voice cool but firm.
Thanatos’ expression shifted, the amusement draining from his features. His eyes darkened, sharp as obsidian.
‘Yes.’
And with that single word, Mal understood. A current of revelation passed through her like a silent storm.
‘If I become the God-Killer, I could...’ Her words trailed off as she stood, the great stone chair scraping against the floor with an ominous groan. She ignored the way Thanatos now watched her with something that resembled unease. The laughter was gone from his face. The wine forgotten.
He rose too, silently, as if something important had shifted between them.
‘Melinoe.’
‘We ought to resume training,’ Mal said, refusing to meet his gaze as she turned instead towards the witch.
Allegra gave a silent nod, rose to her feet, and cast Thanatos one last lingering glance.
‘Wait for me outside, Allegra,’ Mal added quickly, her voice sharp with unspoken urgency.
She needed the witch gone. Allegra slipped from the hall without another word.
‘Do not encourage her,’ Mal warned, her tone edged with iron.
‘Why ever not?’ Thanatos replied, dark eyes alight with mischief. ‘There’s precious little amusement here after nightfall. She’ll be staying for a while, and I…’ he shrugged, ‘am in need of company.’
A bitter thought wormed its way into Mal’s mind. Had Allegra already shared his bed? Was that why she wore the black dress?
‘Do whatever you please,’ she said, her jaw tight with restraint. ‘Just ensure it doesn’t interfere with my training.’
He chuckled, the sound low and sinful. ‘Are you jealous, Melinoe?’
‘Of what, precisely?’
‘The witch,’ he said, stepping nearer. ‘For the privilege of sharing a night with me.’
Amusement tugged at the corner of Mal’s mouth. ‘And why in the name of all things sacred would I be jealous of that, Thanatos? I can think of few fates more appalling.’
‘Liar,’ he murmured, moving closer still. His fingers ghosted against hers. ‘I saw it in your eyes the way you wanted to rip her apart when I turned my attention to her.’
Mal snorted. ‘I see you’re more delusional than I’d previously assumed.’
Thanatos’ tongue swept across his lower lip as he gave a slow, knowing nod and drew back. ‘Very well then. I’m free to amuse myself with her, without your interference?’
‘I am married, Thanatos,’ she said, brushing past him. But he seized her arm, halting her in place. ‘And I could not care less what you do.’
Pain crossed his features, so fleeting she almost doubted it had been there at all. Her gaze dropped to the long, pale fingers curled tightly around her wrist, anchoring her in place. Slowly, deliberately, he released her. But then he leaned in, his mouth brushing the space just beside her ear.
She waited for a whisper, a word, anything.
But none came.
He lingered, the air between them trembling with unsaid things, as though tempted to graze her skin with the softest of kisses. Yet he thought better of it. He withdrew at last, silence clinging to the shape of him.
‘Have fun tonight,’ she said as she turned away.
‘I will,’ he replied, his voice low, unreadable.
Mal didn’t look back. She walked on, her spine rigid, shoulders drawn taut as bowstrings. She ignored the way her breath caught sharply in her throat as though, impossibly, she cared.
As though, against her better judgement, some fragile part of her heart had splintered at the thought of his hands on someone else.