Chapter Eight
We have all sought, in one way or another, to unearth a means of breaking the curse that binds us.
Hades believes the God-Killer will be the key to its undoing.
I do not. I believe the God-Killer will be our ruin.
The truth is that I no longer think there is any way to sever what has been wrought.
I believe the curse is absolute. I believe we are doomed.
Mal Blackburn is where it all began.
She is the origin of this curse. She murdered my lover, my Hadrian.
And I committed the one act magic forbids above all others.
I brought him back. And in doing so, I bound us.
Not merely to each other but to something far greater, far more insidious.
A tether none of us fully understand, one that coils through us all like a living thing.
This curse will not break with the death of Hades.
Nor with the death of Hadrian. Nor even with my own.
Because Mal is the beginning.
And so she must also be the end.
Tabitha Wysteria
Mal headed straight for the castle’s main entrance the moment the servants announced the arrival of guests. Her expression remained impassive as she watched three wyverians stride across the dead land before the gates, moving with little concern and even less ceremony.
Her gaze settled first on Keir, who dropped a weighty satchel at his feet, splattering mud across his black leather boots.
He looked ill—ghost-pale, even for their kind.
His once thick wyverian hair had thinned so drastically that gaps now showed between the twists of his black horns.
Behind him loomed Cronan, silent as ever—an enormous shadow in wyverian form.
He was the largest of their species, and to Mal’s knowledge, she had never heard him utter a single word.
Her attention shifted to the woman beside them, nearly Mal’s height, her slender form concealed beneath the dark armour that failed to truly mask the strength beneath it. Her hair was cut short in a masculine style, a choice she had once made to impress Haven Blackburn, many years ago.
‘We’ve dealt with your army,’ Adriana said, adjusting the great wyverian sword that hung at her hip.
After the chaos that had followed recent events, Mal had returned to the Underworld to face Persephone, to warn her brother Kage to hide until she could free him, and to tear Allegra from the goddess’s grasp.
In her absence, Ash had been left to manage the aftermath.
He had tasked Adriana and Keir with escorting the wyverian troops back to their homeland.
‘My father will return soon, with the rest of my army,’ Mal replied. She did not miss the way Adriana’s eyes narrowed faintly at the word my. ‘Ash and I leave tonight.’
‘Can we sit and discuss plans over a drink?’ Adriana asked, rubbing at her aching back. ‘We’ve been travelling for days. I’d like to rest my feet.’
Mal opened her mouth to answer, but she felt Ash’s presence behind her before she heard him. His hand settled warmly between her shoulders. Gentle, but also a warning. Enough. Let him handle this.
She watched as he stepped forward, and Adriana’s face lit up before she rushed to embrace him. Keir let out a laugh and clapped Ash on the back.
Mal remained stationed between them and the castle doors, silent and composed, watching the exchange unfold with a cool and measured eye.
She ignored the other Mal, the one steeped in shadow and malice. She especially ignored the laughter, low and knowing, as though this dark reflection were privy to truths the real Mal refused to face.
‘They’re plotting against you,’ the creature crooned, stepping close enough that its thin lips nearly brushed her ear. ‘Look at that husband of yours. He’s already planning with them. They’re gods, all of them. You could end them. Kill them, before they destroy you first.’
Mal flicked her hand in dismissal, banishing the creature like an unwanted thought. She watched as the trio walked past her into the castle, and forced herself not to react to the way Ash lingered beside her, his hand coming to rest gently on her shoulder.
She had still not told him. Not about the creature. Not about the other Mal taking hold outside of her. She wanted to tell him. The old Mal, the one who had trusted him, who had loved him without fear, longed to throw herself into his arms and beg for help.
But the newer part of her, stubborn and venomous, would not allow it. Because deep down, whether Mal dared admit it or not…
The creature was right.
Ash Acheron would be her downfall.
…
Mal had spent the last two hours seated in the great hall, watching the blue flames dance in the hearth.
She had passed countless evenings in this very space with her family.
Yet now, despite the familiar walls and stone beneath her palms, the room felt foreign.
She felt like a trespasser in her own home.
Curious, how she managed to feel like a stranger wherever she went.
Perhaps she was simply cursed always to remain an outsider, destined never to truly belong.
She did not look up when Adriana entered the hall, striding with the heavy, unapologetic step of a seasoned warrior.
The wyverian seized a goblet of red wine and took the seat opposite Mal at the long stone table.
The hall itself was vast, dominated by that table where Mal and her family had shared meals.
To the right lay a cosy sitting corner where the queen would braid Haven’s hair, and the boys would sprawl on the floor, laughing over cards.
Mal’s eyes drifted to the glassless arches, the open windows through which wyverians could leap straight onto their wyverns’ backs. She could hear them now, distant roars echoing across the land as they hunted.
‘She will come back,’ Adriana said, leaning into the stone chair.
‘Who?’
‘Eris. The one you killed.’
Mal could still feel the resistance of Vera’s flesh as her sword had pierced the witch’s body, doom sealed in that fatal thrust. The woman had been possessed by a goddess, and killing Vera had merely banished Eris back to where she had come from.
But it would not last. The goddess would find another vessel.
She would return. And she would hunt Mal all over again.
‘She called you mother.’ Mal took a slow sip from her cup.
‘You shouldn’t be drinking wine in your condition,’ Adriana replied, nodding towards Mal’s stomach.
Mal let out a short, humourless snort.
Adriana exhaled heavily. ‘My true name is Themis. I am a goddess, creator of the valkyrians. I married into one of the strongest bloodlines in the god realms.’
‘Keir?’
Adriana nodded. ‘There are gods we call the Originals. They were the first ever to exist, and by far the most powerful. Keir is one of them. The mortal shell he inhabits now is tearing apart under the weight of what he is.’
Mal did not acknowledge the creature lurking in the corner of the hall, lounging against the wall with folded arms and a wicked smile that only sharpened by the second.
‘Your father was one of them as well,’ Adriana continued.
‘And yet I killed him.’ Mal turned upon the wyverian she had once called friend. Someone she had trusted. Someone her sister had loved.
Adriana flinched at the bite in her tone.
‘You do not frighten me, Mal Blackburn,’ she said firmly. ‘You will always be Haven’s little sister.’
Mal raised a brow, her fingers coiling around the black cup.
‘Perhaps,’ she murmured. ‘Though perhaps you should fear me.’
‘Do not threaten me.’
‘Am I? Or am I merely offering a warning?’
Adriana’s dark eyes narrowed. ‘We are here to help.’
‘Are you?’ Mal kept her attention fixed on Adriana, ignoring the creature now gliding closer. ‘You are a goddess, and from what I have learnt, gods are dangerous. They play dangerous games.’
‘That we do,’ Adriana said quietly. ‘But you are one of us.’
Mal narrowed her eyes. ‘How much do you know?’
Adriana stiffened, her gaze slipping towards her goblet. ‘The real question is how much do you know?’
‘Enough,’ Mal replied with a quiet sigh. ‘And yet nowhere near as much as I should.’
‘Your husband…’
‘Which one?’ Mal’s stare could have frozen stone as she fixed it upon Adriana.
‘So you know the truth about…’
‘Thanatos?’ Mal lifted the cup again, letting the wine’s bitterness coil around her tongue, mirroring her own. ‘I assume you recall me from back then.’
Adriana bit her lower lip and nodded. ‘We met a few times, yes. We are, in a way… related.’
Mal tilted her head. ‘Explain.’
‘Your father, Hades, is Keir’s cousin. They were three cousins: Hades, the Sun God, and Keir.’
Mal went rigid. ‘And Thanatos…?’
Adriana waved her concern aside. ‘Do not fret, you are not related to Thanatos. Thanatos shares a mother with Eris, but not a father.’
‘Eris’ father is Keir?’
Adriana nodded.
‘But you are not her mother.’
Adriana’s expression cooled. ‘No. Keir’s first wife was a goddess named Nyx. She bore him one child. Eris. Before that, she had birthed Thanatos.’
‘Nyx?’ Mal murmured, unable to ignore the coincidence. Her wyvern carried the same name.
‘There are no coincidences, Mal,’ Adriana said flatly. ‘You named your wyvern because, despite being reborn mortal, some remnants of your old life cling to you.’
‘Where is this goddess now?’
Adriana lifted one shoulder in a shrug. ‘No one knows. She vanished. Some say Keir discarded her because he fell in love with another goddess and wished to marry her instead. He remarried, to Hera, and with her he had a daughter named Enyo.’ Adriana leaned back in her chair.
‘Eris and Enyo became inseparable, though only half-sisters. No one knows why. But Keir’s marriage to Hera did not endure. ’
‘And then he met you?’ Mal asked, her tone a cool prod.
Adriana nodded. ‘He did.’
‘And you had children?’
Adriana nodded once more. ‘Three daughters. You may know them as the Moirai.’
Mal’s purple eyes widened ever so slightly.
‘They were goddesses once, long before they became the Moirai.’
‘How does that even happen?’ Mal asked. ‘My father never explained much to me.’
‘He did it to protect you.’
Mal let out a short, derisive laugh. ‘I doubt that very much.’
‘Your father is ruler of the Underworld, so—’
‘Was.’ Mal cut in swiftly. She did not miss the way Adriana blanched at the correction, a reminder that she was seated across from the God-Killer.
‘He personally chose them to become the Moirai.’
‘Why them?’
Adriana glanced away, her expression tightening, as though she were recalling something she would rather bury forever.
‘To punish me.’
‘Why would he want to punish you?’
Adriana gave a brittle little laugh. ‘Have you never met your father?’
Mal leaned forward, eyes narrowing. ‘I have. And I know this; he never acts without reason.’
‘We are gods,’ Adriana snapped, bitterness lacing her voice. ‘We do not always need reasons to be cruel.’
Mal settled back into her chair with calculated ease.
She would not push Adriana. Clearly the woman was withholding truths, as they all did.
Let her keep her secrets, for now. One day, Mal would dethrone Persephone and take her place as queen of the Underworld, and then no secret would be beyond her reach.
‘We leave tonight. North,’ Mal said, steering the conversation away. She noticed the subtle way Adriana’s shoulders eased with relief.
‘Ash informed us,’ Adriana replied. ‘We’ll remain here for your father’s return.’
Mal tapped her fingers against the cold stone of the table, mind drifting, attention flicking briefly to the creature lurking in the shadows with its silent grin.
‘Ensure my father does not move the army until I return,’ she said. ‘The wyverian forces alone will not suffice.’
Adriana nodded.
Mal rose, standing over the woman she had believed a friend her whole life. Yet it seemed, as always, that everyone had lied to her.
‘Eris will come for you,’ Adriana warned, her black eyes darkening with unease.
‘I’m sure she will.’
‘We will try to stop her.’
Mal resisted the urge to smile, though the satisfaction was difficult to suppress. ‘Don’t trouble yourselves. Send her to me.’
Adriana’s eyes widened.
‘But—’
‘These are mortal grounds,’ Mal said, already turning away. ‘I am the God-Killer. I’ve slain her once. I will do it again. This time for good.’
Adriana nodded, though her expression betrayed little confidence.
‘When will you return?’ she asked quietly.
Mal paused at the threshold, casting Adriana one final glance before walking out.
‘After my daughter is born.’