Epilogue #2
Until she could reach out again, those final words would have to do the job of reassurance for her.
“You did it.” Kronos’ hand squeezed her shoulder, and she spun to find him right there with her at the door.
“Yes, Master.” She blinked away the fresh tears in her eyes, unaware that she was still crying until that moment. The ache in her head still lingered, but as she glanced down the road she’d grown up on, she realized it was less intense than before.
“I’m proud of you.” Tugging her toward him, he wrapped her up in his arms. “I know that wasn’t easy.”
“No.” She craned her neck to meet his soulful eyes. “But I hope my words will give her comfort.”
“They will.” Resolve echoed in his voice. “Her daughter is alive, and she’s happy. That has to be a blessing for any mother to hear.”
“Yes.” She sagged against him. “We might not be together, but a part of her will always be with me.”
A gusty breeze whipped past them at that moment, but the warmth of his arms meant she hardly noticed at all. As the air started to swirl around them and the outside of the little terrace house faded into the background, where there had once been despair, there was now an air of destiny.
It was just as she’d told her mother. Kris was right where she needed to be.
Learning, growing, and flourishing with her dominant god.
Devour the next book in the series,
Erebos’ Darkness
(book four in the Dominant Gods series):
Enjoy this intriguing snippet…
Erebos
Soaring over the clasping mists of his domain, Erebos let out a thunderous roar.
The sound bounced around the jagged landscape, returning to him in waning waves as he swept over the darkening sky.
In all his years of service in the Underworld, he’d never left the depths of its grounds, and free falling in its dark, airy folds, he couldn’t ever remember feeling so liberated.
Twisting to watch his black feathers bear his weight, he didn’t understand why he’d never much glided around the blackened hilltops before.
For, what was the point in being able to fly if he never made use of the sovereignty?
For too long he’d played the underdog, doing Hades’ bidding and expecting little in return, but wings stretched out either side of him, he declared those days to be over.
Erebos was by far the more ancient being, and he merited the reverence that came with his age and wisdom. Somersaulting through the black ether, and getting a feel for his freedom, he sensed that acumen in his very essence. Born from the void itself, it was time he demanded what he deserved.
It was time he knew love again.
Centuries before when Nyx had shown him how to draw his shadow across the sky to bring the night and the two had been inseparable, he’d known the strength of the emotion, and before Nyx, he’d known carnality when he was born of chaos.
Ascending to one of the peaks that guarded the entry to the Underworld, he was determined to discover those feelings again.
He longed to yearn, to need and to possess. His life had lacked that color for too long, and much though he embodied the shade, he wanted to know those brighter hues. Darkness, after all, could only exist in harmony with light. One needed the other in order to be.
Raising his face to the sky, he reveled in the gusty air movement above the peaks, enjoying the way the wind forced his long locks away from his shoulders.
Even on the craggy edges of the rocks, the air up there seemed sweeter than it had tasted on the ground below, and he knew if he permitted it to, the breeze would lift his wings higher, taking him to the realm where mortals roamed.
With a smile, he rose to the goading current, extending his black wings and climbing through the gloom.
The darkness would remain in his absence, smothering the Underworld in his presence even when he was gone, but he would also bring those shadows with him, stretching them over any place he chose to settle.
He spiraled through the ether, spreading his decadent darkness as he went.
Night fell abruptly in his wake, scattering the light and propelling him forward.
He had no idea where he was when his feet touched the soil in the mortal world, yet he trusted enough in the universe’s great wisdom not to question the choice.
Wherever he was had been selected for a reason, and Erebos was still, his senses primed as he listened.
Human voices reverberated from unknown places, seeking help.
He sensed pain and anguish, but little inclination to pay him real homage.
The average soul had no idea the night they cried to was actually real, that it consisted of a consciousness that could chose a human form and come to them.
Lost to the false idols, few mortals had even heard of his name, let alone believed in his tangible presence and power, but their requests came, all the same.
Some spoke of their terror at his blackness, fearing his invasion and searching for the light, while others seemed happy to revel in his shroud, employing him as means to conceal their true intentions.
He absorbed both of those reactions, growing stronger as each whimpered plea filled his being.
Drinking in their muffled cries, he sensed himself becoming taller, his essence fed by the need in their timbres and he took an instant to delight in their dedication.
After so long on his own, hiding from humans, he was ready to breathe them in, to bathe in their need and exult in their constant whines.
Standing rooted to the earth, he acknowledged something different, a voice he hadn’t noticed before, and its fraught tone stood out.
He straightened, focusing on the specific voice, and his lips curled as he registered the fact it belonged to a woman.
There was a primal appeal about the idea of a female.
The thought of her soft curves incited him, just as Kronos’ mate’s yielding form had done, and there and then, it was decided.
He would go to her and see what she motivated her melancholy.
Concentrating on her voice, he heard her muttered cry, his brows creasing at the apparent desperation in her tone.
He was used to the fear and angst of the souls of many who passed through his domain.
Some bemoaned that their end had been premature, or had died in such brutal ways that they hadn’t yet realized what had transpired.
But even given all of those experiences, he couldn’t recall ever hearing such desolation before.
“Nobody would miss me if you did take me.” There was a sigh, and he sensed the tug wrenching at his core, instructing instinctively that her message was for him. “Now the funeral’s over, no one would even know I was gone.”
He turned his head at the clue, drawing closer to the where she was waiting. Pressing through the pulsing air, he knew that if he followed the sound of her voice, its resonance would lead him to where she was, and there, hiding in his shadow, he would be able to see her for himself.
“Do you hear me, darkness?” Her voice was louder that time, and he found himself in the corner of what he assumed was her dark room. Staring through the half-light, he could just make her out. “You might as well just fucking take me!”
Intrigued by the passion in her tone, he drew closer.
Yes, she was angst-ridden, but belying her despair was rage, a fervor that roused him.
Shifting his shadow nearer to where she was sprawled on a large bed, he watched, riveted at her performance.
Long raven hair fanned out behind her, framing her flustered face and swollen eyes.
She was clearly distressed, no doubt as a result of the funeral she’d referred to, and the idea piqued his already enflamed interest. If the woman had lost someone she cared for, then their soul had certainly passed through his gates.
A silent observer of all death in the world, it was possible that he might even have recognized the mortal had she described him.
“I hear you, Mortal.”
He whispered the words, rising over the bed to drape her like a heavy cloud.
She couldn’t see him, and he knew she wouldn’t yet discern his voice.
That communication would only begin when Erebos decided it was time, but there was still an unexpected solace in conveying his presence.
He would watch over her like a dark guardian, content to only listen while he discovered more about who she was.
“I can’t do this.” She shook her head against the pillow, her breathing labored as she went on. “I don’t want to go on without you, Stuart.”
Erebos observed her sorrow with interest. There should have been nothing stirring in her strangled mewls or tortured expressions, but swathing her in his darkness, he accepted that there was.
The strength of her emotion radiated from her in thick, heated waves, and those waves washed over him as she gazed down at her.
“What am I going to do?”
Pulling in a shaky breath, a torrent of tears poured from her beautiful blue eyes, which were barely visible in his gloom.
He reached for her shoulder, trailing a fingertip gently along her creamy skin, and watching her reactions carefully.
With his presence still veiled, she shouldn’t have been able to perceive his caress, distinguishing him only as the encroaching blackness of night, but he hoped on some level, she would sense the succor he offered.