man. He never strayed, never broke the rules. He harvested hearts and darksouls. He was Sutekh’s man.
Dagan had once asked his father how he had earned
such loyalty.
“An iron fist in a velvet glove,” Sutekh had replied.
Which, as usual, was no reply at all.
“This once, expand the concept,” Dagan had said,
exasperated.
“I make him feel worthy because heisworthy. He
is important to me, and he knows it. He has only one
fear, and that is the fear of disappointing me. He cares
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not about ending his existence, only that that end not
come atmyhand.”
And Dagan had understood. Because that was the
exact loyalty Sutekh had nurtured in his sons. Only it
hadn’t played out exactly as the old man had envisioned. He’d meant to spawn four sons with loyalty
only tohim.
What he got were four sons loyal to each other. And
to him, despite their mixed feeling of love and loathing.
Not exactly what he’d bargained for.
“Be at ease,” Dagan murmured when Roxy failed to
relax her stance even a little. “I told you, they’re with
me.”
“Which is such a wonderful recommendation.”
“Don’t trust me?” he asked.
“Not in a million years.”
Smart girl. He didn’t trust her, either.
“You should have run when I told you to.”
She stared at him, crossed her arms over her chest
