I slowly drew my hands from his.
There was so much between us that was tangled and unresolved. Iowed Raithe more than I could ever say. He had seen me undone. At my weakest, my most shattered, and still, he had stood by me. After Falhurst, it was his hand that pulled me from the wreckage. It was he who led me toward the Ossirae, toward something greater. For that, I would always carry a piece of gratitude within me.
“I can’t, Raithe,” I confessed, shaking my head slowly.
He didn’t let go. His hands stayed firm around mine, his golden eyes dark with conviction. Strands of black hair fell across his brow, his gaze burning with want and something far more dangerous. Even I couldn’t ignore the spark that flared in my chest under that look. It was the gaze of a god who would set the world ablaze for me if I only asked.
My heart pounded loud enough, I was sure, that he could hear it over the hush of the forest.
“Odessa…” His voice strained with wanting. “You and I…”
There was truth in his voice, so raw and unguarded it landed like a strike to the center of me. My breath caught as he gently pulled me closer, our faces separated by little more than a breath. His eyes searched mine, gold gleaming against black, looking for something I wasn’t sure I could give. Beneath all the layers of armor I’d built, a single thought slipped through:What if?What if there was something real in this? In him? But before it could root, I pushed it away.
No. Not again.
I was a god now, and everything I felt ran deeper than before. That included the part of me that craved touch, the collision of skin and lips, of heat and need. Raithe’s hand rose, brushing a strand of hair from my face before resting against my neck, his touch painfully gentle. His gaze flitted down to my lips, and I felt the hitch in his breath as if it were my own.
My heart stuttered in my chest wildly.
He leaned in, lips just a brush from mine, waiting. Not taking, not assuming, just waiting for the smallest sign that I wanted this too. But I gave him nothing.
The light in his eyes flickered, the hope behind them turning fragile, then dimming away altogether. Slowly, he drew back, his hand falling away from my skin, and with it went all his warmth, leaving me standing in the chill that followed.
His face shifted, not with anger or sorrow, but into something still and hollow, like stone. His golden eyes dulled, and the walls I’d let fall between us rose again. Something inside me twisted and a part of me wanted to close the distance. To reach for him. To take away whatever pain I’d just carved into his soul. But I knew the truth.
I was the source of his pain, and I couldn’t give him what he wanted from me. Whatever he felt between us had been nurtured over years, shaped by time and memory, while I had only truly known him for a fleeting moment in comparison. Yes, we had shared power, our divinity intertwined in ways only we could understand, but my heart remained closed. The walls I’d built around it weren’t accidental, they were forged through moments of pain, of betrayal and fear. And though love might be the greater emotion, it was the heartbreak that terrified me most.
So I let Raithe walk away. I watched his back as he disappeared into the trees, carrying with him a kind of love I didn’t know how to believe in.
42
I wandered aimlesslythrough Torhiel for some time. The forest was quiet, not a hollow silence, but one that offered solitude. Raithe had gone off somewhere, vanished to a place I couldn’t find. I didn’t blame him for the mix of emotions he held toward me. Frustration, affection, love. He saw parts of me that I had yet to understand myself.
I needed more time. Time to grasp the newfound power rooted in me. Time to understand who I was becoming. And yet, there was still a strange pull toward him that I couldn’t ignore. Every time I used my power, he was there, steady, guiding me through it. I still needed him, even though I feared blurring whatever boundary remained between us.
I had no idea how to begin bargaining with mortals. Should I return to the mortal realm? Could I forge some divine passage between Torhiel and their world? The questions kept piling up. How had other demigods managed this? Surely they didn’t all have a guide who believed fate had entwined them together.
I sighed, then drew a long breath. Then another. I had chosen this life. So I would figure it out, with or without Raithe. He told me I hadto listen, to hear the cries of mortals calling out in Wrath. I’d try that in time.
As I walked, something shimmered behind a thicket of berried brush, catching my eye. I pushed through and found a stream, glittering like ribbons of silver. The water was so clear, so pure, I felt the need to get in. Without thinking too much of it, I began to undress. My hair was wild and loose, and I was left in nothing but my shift. As mundane and mortal as it felt, soaking in that stream sounded more than gratifying.
If eternity was to be my life, then how I spent that time was mine to choose.
I waded into the stream, the water rising slowly as I moved, cool against my skin until it reached my chest. Though the depths were chilled, the surface carried the lingering warmth of the sun. There was a weightlessness in that moment, the soft rush of water curling around me, washing over everything I had endured.
I’d survived Gadriel, barely escaping with my freedom. I’d been shot in Falhurst, the wound that once threatened to kill me now reduced to a faint scar, softened by my divine awakening. I’d been cloaked in mud and grime, blood and sweat. I had drunk from the Ossirae and emerged something new. A demigoddess.
And now, the stream seemed to cleanse me. Not just of the dirt and blood, but of the pain, the memories. For a moment, I let it all go.
I leaned back, letting my body float on the surface of the stream. The water moved around me in soft, steady ripples, touching my face, my chest, my legs. I felt light, unburdened, like the things that had held me down were finally gone.
In the quiet, I closed my eyes and listened to my surroundings. The forest spoke in quiet sounds. Birds gliding overhead, leaves rustling in the wind, branches creaking with age. It felt whole, like everything was exactly as it should be. I smiled without meaning to. For the first time in a while, my chest didn’t feel so heavy. Maybe thislife, wandering the far reaches of the world, held more meaning than I imagined.
For a time, I stayed there, drifting as the stream held me. But slowly, beneath the quiet, something began to stir.
My Wrath.
It didn’t crash in all at once. It crept in, slowly and steadily, pushing up from somewhere deep. I didn’t try to fight it like I used to. I didn’t shove it down or smother it with reason or fear. This time, I let it come.
