chapter twenty-one #3
Right. Not even death breaks that bond. What a wretched existence that must be, to be tied in such a suffocating way to another person and not even death will set you free.
It may not be a brace, but it controls you nonetheless.
There could only be one reason why anyone would do such a foolish thing as being mated to someone.
“You loved her,” I say.
He huffs out a humorless laugh. “Loved . . . If only it were that easy to forget. She is as much a part of my soul today as she was a millennium ago.” His jaw clenches. “I was foolish. We both were. And we paid the price.”
A millennium? How old is he? “I didn’t mean—” I start, but he waves my excuse away.
It’s clear I’ve made him miserable. What did you expect from bringing up his dead mate, La?na?
That he would be happy? I curse myself for my lack of tact.
I should get going before I make it even worse.
I glance over my shoulder toward the entrance.
Turning back, I suck in a sharp breath, my heart pounding in my chest at his proximity. There’s no way anyone can move that fast. That soundlessly. Did he bend?
He braces his hand against the wall, his midnight-blue curls falling around his eyes as he stares down at me.
Certain I’ve made him angry, I keep my gaze locked on his chest, too afraid of the fury I’ll find if I look up.
I rub my clammy palms against my skirts.
Is he the type of god that snaps the neck of anyone who displeases him?
My mind replays the way Casimir used his dark tendrils to snap Nana’s neck.
One moment she was there, the next she was no more than a lump on the floor.
I’ve already stabbed him once. How much more will he tolerate?
As always when he’s close, his scent fills my nose.
Now the pictures filling my mind are of a very different sort, and it takes every ounce of self-control I possess to not lift my hands and touch him.
I clench my teeth. Damn him. Damn the dreams. My mind knows those dreams aren’t real, but for some stupid reason, my treacherous body does not.
A finger touches my chin, and Astēr tilts my head up, forcing my eyes to meet his golden ones.
He’s tense, as if he’s struggling to control himself.
When he lifts his hand, my initial thought is that he’ll strangle me.
Instead, he lets his thumb glide across my lower lip.
A shudder moves through my body. He swallows.
“This is not fair play, Mah.” It’s barely a whisper, and it’s clear he’s speaking to himself, not me.
Just leave me alone, I want to scream at him. He flinches. And get the fuck out of my mind.
“Then keep your thoughts to yourself.”
He said something similar during our sparring—or whatever you want to call it. I give him a questioning look, but his attention is elsewhere, his body alert.
“Don’t let me ruin your little reunion.” The sultry voice is familiar, yet not. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, I slip out from where he has me pinned to the wall, positioning myself in the main hallway where I have a clear view of them both.
The female approaching us has the same ethereal beauty as Astēr, and she is, if possible, more beautiful close up than she was when I saw her at the initiation ceremony.
Astēr doesn’t even deign to turn, his rigid posture heavy with disregard. “Why are you here, Cyra?” His voice is laced with ice. “Avoiding your own celebration?”
“Something like that. One can grow tired of too much worship.” Her laugh is husky. “But I guess you wouldn’t know.” Hips swaying, she strolls toward him at a leisurely pace, her floor-length red gown leaving little to the imagination. “No one celebrates death, after all.”
“Leave me alone, Cyra. I’m in no mood for your petty games.” He still hasn’t bothered to turn and face her.
“And here I thought you would be excited to see me.” She pouts.
“You were happy to let me share your bed once.” She taps a finger against her pursed lips, which are painted the same deep red as her nails.
“In fact, I seem to recall you begging me not to leave you alone.” She twirls a fiery-red strand of hair around her finger.
He spins so fast he’s a blur. “You are well aware I was not myself,” he snaps. “I was hurting.”
Cyra lets out another husky laugh. “I was just offering. No need to get mad.” Her gaze swipes over me, distaste clearly written on her face. “Must admit, I didn’t see this one coming.”
I glance between them. Is she talking about me? “What? Why?”
“Nothing,” he says. “Cyra doesn’t know what she is talking about.”
She stares at him with a calculating expression. “Is that so?” She turns toward me, her smile as sweet as sugar when her blazing blue eyes—like the heart of a flame—meet mine. “My mistake.”
Astēr appears ready to murder her—if that’s even possible for a goddess—while she pointedly disregards him. She looks as smug as a cat that’s caught a mouse.
My eyes narrow on him. “More secrets?”
He says nothing.
“How convenient it must be for you to be the sole mind reader around here,” I mutter, more to myself than to him.
“You have no idea,” Cyra says with a smirk.
He closes his eyes and lets out a heavy breath. “I think you’d be wise to stay close to Llyr.” The words are pressed out through clenched teeth.
“Why, Astēr? Are you afraid someone will, let’s say, kill her if she goes off on her own?”
Before I’ve had time to blink, he has her pinned by her throat to the opposite wall. His lips are pulled back in a snarl, revealing his fangs. “Did I not make it clear I want nothing to do with your petty games, Cyra?”
I scramble backward, eager to get away, but my back meets the cold stone wall. Astēr looks as if he’d be happy to shred Cyra to pieces, while she doesn’t appear even mildly concerned. She caresses his face with the back of her hand.
“You seem to remember how I like it,” she coos, her smug smile widening as she glances over his shoulder at me.
I fix her with a loathsome stare. What is wrong with the two of them? They’re supposed to be gods. Lesser ones, but gods nonetheless. Shouldn’t they act with grace and virtue and all of that? I shake my head. The world is doomed already if this is the current state of affairs.
Not wanting to watch another second of their sickening love game, I turn and march back down the corridor toward the entrance I came in. I’ll find another route to my chambers.
I’m ready to close the door behind me when Cyra’s voice stops me dead in my tracks.
“We all agreed to the plan, Astēr. Void, you have spent the last twenty years convincing me you should have this power. Don’t tell me you are going to throw it all away.”
Stepping back into the hallway, I let the door drop with a thud, hoping they’ll think me gone.
Heart pounding, I slip into the nearest alcove, pressing myself flat against the cool stone, willing myself to become invisible.
How close do I have to be for him to sense my presence?
Read my mind? With my mind as clear as I can make it, I pray the distance will be enough.
“I didn’t say that,” he says, his tone evasive.
“You don’t have to say anything. I know you, Astēr. Her soul shards, why you haven’t taken them yet?”
The blood drains from my face, leaving a cold, clammy feeling. Wait. What? I can barely suppress the strangled gasp making its way up my throat as the realization hits, and a wave of nausea washes over me. Astēr is taking those shards?
“The shards need another moon cycle,” he says. “Until then, they are powerless and safer at Anam’gate than with me.”
She scoffs. “Can you look me in the eye and tell me that is the only reason you haven’t touched them yet?”
“You know bloody well this changes things,” he snaps. “Of course it does.”
“Astēr.” Her tone makes his name sound like a threat.
“Don’t.” He lets out a frustrated breath.
“I never thought about her as a person, Cyra.
Just . . . a solution. A means to an end.
Defeat Casimir. Reverse the Darkening. Llyr was clever, I'll give him that.
Hid her with a brace all these years—inside the Void.
Right under Casimir's nose, where no one would think to look.
Probably wore one himself too, because I sure couldn't find him.”
Cyra chuckles. “I wouldn’t put that past him,” she says, and Astēr actually snorts.
They’re quiet for a while, then Astēr says, “You didn’t have to be such a bitch toward her.”
She scoffs. “I did. You are taking her soul, Astēr. The farther she stays away from you, the better.” She pauses, then adds in a more solemn tone, “It’s as much for your sake as for hers.”
“You don’t have to pretend to care. There’s no getting around that she was born to die, and you will be all the happier for it.”
His words make my blood freeze. I will die?
“She will die,” Cyra repeats, “and the world will be better for it.”
Astēr breathes out a heavy sigh. “What if there’s a reason, Cyra? Mah’s not known for being cruel. She always has a reason.”
“She dies to save all of Reā. How is that for a reason?”
Astēr sighs. “Am I a fool for hoping?”
“Don’t you dare,” Cyra snaps. “You better not let your emotions get the better of you this time, or I’ll kill you myself. That is a promise. You are the reason we are in this predicament in the first place.”
“Don’t you dare use Casimir’s betrayal against me! Void, he was—is—my twin brother. I trusted him. And you know better than most how deep his betrayal cut. I lost everything, Cyra. Everything.”
“I know, Astēr. I know. But don’t forget that I lost someone too. You. I lost you to her.”