Chapter 10 Aaron
AARON
Seth was angry. Even as he smiled and schmoozed the room, I could feel it coursing in my veins, a pulsating poison through our blood-bond. Occasionally, I’d catch an angry mutter about Bianca or humans before he once again donned his charming persona. And here I was, stuck at his side. His dog.
My instructions were to just stand by and look pretty. He said I made him look good, though I had a suspicion Seth had an ulterior motive in showing me off. Not that he’d tell me.
While I had no problem showing up as a wingman or plus one to help a friend at the occasional wedding or night out, this was nothing like that.
I was unmistakably Seth’s pet. The same as the reaper dog I now saw at Timothy’s side most days.
Though I had a sneaking suspicion that the reaper dog was allowed far more dignity and agency than I was.
As if on cue, the creature trotted by, and I couldn’t help but look at him with jealous longing, which really hit home how messed up my life had become.
The dog paused its canter to swing its head up and meet my gaze. I was struck by the strong sense this creature possessed a great deal of intelligence, calm, and maturity.
It tilted its head ever so slightly, eyes glowing a faint gold.
A strong sense of reassurance from the reaper flowed into me.
He saw me and acknowledged my predicament.
He twisted his head, and I followed his gaze to see Timothy across the room.
He was engaged in conversation with a small group of gods, his hands tucked behind his back.
He needed to stop that. If he was so hot to exude power, he needed to stand with his arms at his sides.
Hands behind his back made it look as if he was hiding something or waiting to serve someone else.
Huh. And here I thought I never benefited from that communications course at the community college I dropped out of.
Timothy’s eyes slid to the side, meeting mine for just a moment. His intensity, his longing barreled into me—a physical force. Every muscle in my body tensed as a wash of tingles swept through me. I was suddenly panting, though I didn’t even need to breathe.
It had been like this since the first time I met him at Sinopolis. I’d burned through one city after another, chasing bigger drops and sharper adrenaline, until the desert felt like the next logical mistake.
I was in the middle of receiving my orientation to work at Perkatory from an older woman named Angela when Timothy approached. Nose stuck in his tablet, fingers flying, I could practically see calculations churning off his brain in wisps of steam.
“Sir,” Angela had greeted the man with unexpected enthusiasm for someone who slung cappuccinos to make ends meet. “You caught me training the new guy.”
“Excellent, Angela, we would be lost without you,” he’d said, digits still tapping away at whatever he was working on while somehow giving the impression he was completely present and engaged with the woman he was speaking to.
Then he looked up, and my heart dropped. It fell right out through my ass and careened toward the molten core of the earth.
I never really had a type. I met interesting men of all kinds who I enjoyed getting to know and spending time with, but suddenly I knew I would only ever want this.
Someone like him. A kind of man who had intense dark eyes that broadcasted an arresting intelligence.
I could tell in an instant I would never be bored with him.
From the tight line of his lips, I’d spend most my days coaxing them into yielding and softening under mine.
And his hands. I can’t say I’d ever been turned on by a man’s cuticles, but there was something so precise and appealing about them.
My fingers itched to run through his charcoal black hair, perfectly set, the texture sharp and intentional.
Then he smiled at me. My heart rocketed back up from the core of the earth reentering my body with extreme violence before blasting my ribcage into one of those deep-fried blooming onions dishes. I was cooked.
In the present, Timothy’s attention returned to who he was speaking to, and the moment was over.
“Interesting.” The word slid into my ear—a poisonous snake.
Seth stood next to me, looking on at Timothy, stirring the dark blue of his cocktail with a toothpick adorned in a garnish that wasn’t a food item I was familiar with.
Something in my chest pinched tight, with sudden fear. “What?”
Seth then grinned at me with all the menace and promise of a cartoon villain, and my stomach churned in sick anticipation.
“Oh, nothing,” he said without meaning it, “I just continue to be impressed by your usefulness.”
The urge to chew my arm off to escape the trap he’d set on me was strong. But there was no way out of this. My heart squeezed so violently with every glimpse I’d catch of Timothy across the room, I could have sworn it almost started beating again.
The lights dimmed in the ballroom as a hush fell. Everyone’s attention turned to Timothy as he strode through the crowd and toward a dais.
The blood in my veins came to a halt.
No longer in a suit, he wore ancient Egyptian garb.
Gold and lapis crossed his chest in deliberate lines, the ceremonial collar broad on his shoulders. White linen wrapped his waist in sharp folds, secured with a belt etched in hieroglyphs older than language.
Bands of gold circled his arms and wrists, snug against warm skin. In his hand, he held a staff capped in gold.
I wiped drool from my mouth. Timothy in a suit was devastating, but this was a god. His biceps flexed under the straps, his abdomen carved marble under the chandeliers. And then the air shimmered.
His head shifted.
One blink and the man was gone, replaced by the sleek, inhuman elegance of an ibis: long, curved beak, feathers edged in moonlight, the divine intellect of Thoth staring out from an avian gaze. A god’s body with a beast’s head, regal and unreal, power radiating in quiet waves.
It should have been unsettling. Instead, my stomach tightened and heat rushed through me. He wasn’t just beautiful. He was magnificent.
He stood at the center of the ballroom, the point everything else orbited. Gods in silks and armor filled the space, their power thickening the air. Ceremonial music throbbed low.
My heart cracked as I took in his perfect stillness. Whether faced or feathered, he radiated responsibility, composure, and centuries of watching the world turn. His shoulders carried the room. His eyes, human or ibis, never rested. Duty wrapped him like a second skin.
And it only made him more breathtaking.
This wasn’t the Timothy who ordered lattes or flinched when I stood too close. This was Thoth in full glory, holding the world together through sheer refusal to let it come apart.
Standing there among the gods, something painful settled in my chest. This was the version everyone else got. The one who belonged to the universe.
And I had touched the man underneath.
Timothy reached out and pulled down a floating star system from the ceiling, letting it hover in front of him, shimmering with celestial beauty.
I watched, captivated, as he manipulated the galaxies with his long, dexterous fingers.
His voice filled the ballroom, steady and commanding.
“Just as the planets circle their stars in balanced harmony, we immortals must recognize the interconnected rhythms that bind us. Though we may keep our distance, we are still drawn together by a divine rhythm essential to our existence.”
His words resonated deeply, and my body felt weightless as I followed his movements, the smooth track of the stars and planets in front of him. It looked like a hologram, but I couldn’t assume anything. Maybe Timothy truly held galaxies between his hands.
“In my duty as the God of the Dead, I reap souls and judge their fates. Each soul I encounter releases energy that strengthens us, allowing our pantheon to maintain its power and influence across realms. The more souls I judge, the greater the energy available to all, creating a symbiotic relationship that sustains our immortality.”
I hung on every word, marveling at how he embodied both authority and compassion, proving that even in Grim’s absence, he was more than capable of maintaining balance.
As Timothy’s passion grew, his voice brimmed with confidence. “I have the wisdom and strength necessary to navigate our complex existence. I am the keeper of records and the judge of souls—”
“Kiss me,” Seth murmured but quietly enough that no one would hear him but me. I lifted an eyebrow at him in both confusion and disgust. I didn’t speak but my answer was plainly written on my face. No.
Seth’s forehead smoothed. “I wasn’t asking.”
Power gripped me from within, jolting me straight as he compelled me through our bond.
I woodenly closed the distance between us as his nonverbal commands echoed in whispers in my mind. It choreographed my hands to lay on his shoulders as I leaned in to inhale his overpowering aftershave that made my nose wrinkle and sting.
“In my duty as God of the Dead.” Timothy was still speaking. “I maintain the balance and order of the passing of souls. I—”
Timothy’s words faltered the same moment my lips found the column of Seth’s neck. My lips parted so my tongue could swipe and press against Seth’s skin in open-mouth kisses.
Timothy cleared his throat.
Seth sighed contentedly even as he continued to watch Timothy, as if nothing were going on. I tilted my head while obeying Seth’s command so I could see the stage.
Timothy’s eyes flicked towards us, his composure fracturing for a fleeting moment. The galaxies between his fingers wobbled as if the cosmos itself felt his distraction. I could see the jealousy creeping in, like a poisonous vine choking his focus.
Timothy’s knuckles whitened around the staff, and his voice, once steady, now wavered.
And then his control slipped.
For the briefest instant, the god-mask faltered.
His ibis head flickered and the smooth planes of his human face flashed through, jarringly mortal and exposed before the divine form reasserted itself. Another pulse hit him, his image stuttering between god and man, the shift so fast most mortals would miss it, but every god in the room would not.
He swallowed hard, forcing the transformation down, but the effort shook him.
“I…I ensure the smooth transition of souls,” Timothy continued, but the conviction had drained from his voice.
His eyes darted back to us, locked onto the spectacle Seth was forcing me to create.
I could feel Seth’s satisfaction pulsing through our bond, a sickening sense of victory that made my stomach churn.
Seth’s hand found its way to my waist, a possessive grip that made my skin crawl. I wanted to wrench away, to scream that this wasn’t what I wanted, but my body was no longer mine to control. I was a puppet, and Seth pulled the strings with a smug smile.
Timothy’s words slowed, his speech becoming labored.
His ibis form wavered along the edges, feathers dissolving as Timothy tried to hold himself together.
His head snapped into human shape with a rough, uneven tear of magic that made several gods exclaim.
The strain showed in the tight lines of his jaw and the tremor in his hand on the staff.
He had not meant to shift at all. And now everyone knew it.
The room’s atmosphere curdled, the gods murmuring to one another behind raised glasses and hidden smiles. I could hear the whispers, the doubts that Timothy was truly fit to fill Grim’s shoes.
“He seems distracted by Set,” a voice muttered from the crowd. “Like Set is making him nervous.”
“I thought he was supposed to be the smart, eloquent one,” another chimed in with a low snicker.
“This is what happens when Grim leaves a scribe to do a ruler’s work,” someone near the dais said, not bothering to lower their voice.
I finally broke away from Seth’s neck, gasping as my eyes locked onto Timothy, who stood frozen. His face, usually composed, was marred by distress, the galaxies he conjured flickering as doubt seeped into the air.
No longer content to whisper, the gods returned to their own conversations. As if Timothy wasn’t there.
Several drifted toward Seth with the oily glide of predators recognizing a new alpha.
“So, Seth, how did you get a blood-bonded Sekhor? And where can I get one, or twenty?” The laugh that followed was disgusting.
“Oh, Seth, how about we revisit that idea of yours with fight rings under our casinos? We could pit the humans against each other. Bring back the days of gladiators. Wasn’t that a delicious time?”
A goddess with gold eyes tapped her nails on her glass. “Or we open a club that siphons life from patrons. Offer a lucky streak at the blackjack tables that slowly drains their years. They would line up for it.”
Laughter rippled through the cluster. Not quiet or subtle. The sound rolled across the ballroom.
Timothy stood in the center of it, the star system drooping at his fingertips. Every idea dropped by the gods was a direct violation of the order he had spent millennia maintaining. Every one of them was a line they were no longer afraid to cross.
The gods’ words echoed in my ears, each word a further chipping away of his authority. I could see the realization hit him—this was not the powerful display he’d intended.
“What are you saying?” The goddess Bianca entered the ring. Her beautiful features were creased with distress. “We must abide Thoth and the rules set for us to maintain peace and balance.”
A goddess in red waved her hand toward the dais. “If he cannot hold the room, he cannot hold the power Grim left him. Someone else should take the scales.”
The god with the shining eye pulled Bianca away though she looked reluctant to go.
Timothy’s shoulders slumped, and I understood then: Seth had won this little battle. He’d used me to do it.
The god of chaos had orchestrated my humiliation, and Timothy lost the faith of the gods that he could confidently rule.
Laughter rose, sharp and pointed, and the sound carved Timothy out of the room.
His authority cracked. The gods measured him, he failed, and now they were deciding what lines they could cross.
For the first time, I fully understood why Timothy kept his distance. Why he pushed me away. Why he feared what we could cost each other.
If he fell, mortals suffered.
If he faltered, gods like Seth would take over. I looked about me, surrounded by gods with terrible intentions and zero fucks left to give.
My insides caved in on themselves as I regretted ever coming back to Vegas.