“Raithe,” I whispered, my throat still raw from coughing. My hands clung tightly to his tunic. “What is it you’re always singing to me?”
He paused his humming for a moment. “A song that can only be sung by the gods.”
A quiet sound of contentment escaped me. “Thank you for singing to me.”
“Shh,” Raithe murmured. “Just listen. Everything will be alright.”
So I listened, following Raithe’s clement command. I lay there on the forest floor, nestled close to him as he hummed to me, until the voices of Wrath faded. Until his was the only one that remained.
43
“Your discipline isn’t there yet.Mortal prayers will pull you under if you reach for them too soon,” Raithe cautioned quietly.
This morning, we had woken in each other’s arms, my back resting against his chest as we’d slept beneath the moonlight. At sunrise, I’d tried to slip from his hold, embarrassment and shame rising within me. But he clung to me, unwilling to release me, as though if I left, I’d disappear. He only agreed to when I reminded him I was barely clothed, wrapped in nothing but a thin shift. I didn’t want to think about how he’d found me. Soaked, shivering, and dripping from the stream.
“How else could I learn, then?” I managed, my voice weary, my strength sapped from everything that had happened the day before.
“You’ll need to practice, but you won’t do it alone,” Raithe said, his tone final. “The next time you attempt to bargain with mortals, I’ll be there. Most demigods come to Torhiel when they’re still young, and they spend years learning to harness their power. But you never came. You never learned. So now, your divinity is completely untamed. Wrathis already a volatile force, Odessa. Learning to wield it will be harder still. It won’t be easy.”
“I understand,” I said, though the words felt distant, like an echo struggling to reach the surface. I was still shaken from what happened yesterday. The power, this Wrath inside me, was more dangerous than I ever imagined. The thought of carrying the weight of mortal Wrath again was daunting, enough to make me hesitate. Raithe’s song had silenced it once, but I didn’t know when it would rise again. I couldn’t depend on him forever.
“I want to learn,” the words slipped out, more inward than aloud. “My entire life, I’ve done everything on my own. I was willful, strong. All driven by a belief in myself. But somewhere along the way, that belief faded. What remained was stubbornness, and a numb determination that carried me forward. I could still do what needed to be done, but now it always costs something. I’m tired. And this new life… Even as a god, I feel so fragile.”
I wasn’t sure what made me say it, but the words came out before I could stop them. “I hate who I am, Raithe.”
His expression didn’t change. He just watched me, letting the confession settle in the silence between us.
“You’re wrong,” he said flatly.
I blinked, unprepared. “What?”
“You’re not fragile,” he stated. “You are many things, Odessa. But not that.”
I let out a scoff, more bitter than amused. “Don’t let your heart sway your head.”
Hearing that, something shifted in him. He sat up straighter, and the calmness I’d seen in him before vanished. His features sharpened into something colder, something harder. Disappointment flickered in his eyes, along with something close to disdain. The air around him chilled, and he looked every bit the demigod of Vengeance.
“Get up,” he ordered, a flick of his wrist dismissing whatever softness had been between us.
The Wrath inside me stirred at his tone, at the weight of his judgment. Something primal and defiant flared in response.
“You don’t get to decide who I am.” I stood, anger in my voice. “You have no idea what I’ve been through, Raithe. You don’t get to tell me how I feel.”
He didn’t flinch. He just stared, his disapproval weighing heavier than any words. Then he stood up too, his eyes locked on mine, rising until he towered above me.
“Stare down at me all you want,” I said through clenched teeth. “You’ve no right to judge me”
“I don’t,” he admitted. “But I will show you who you are. You are not fragile. You are not weak. You are a daughter of Wrath and it’s time you act like it.”
Before I could respond, he reached for me, pulling me into him.
“Hey!” I snapped, trying to pull away.
But Raithe was stronger by far, demigod or not, he was built from something heavier, more solid. My body collided with his, chest to chest, and he brought his forehead to mine. One hand slid firmly at the back of my neck, grounding me.
Then I felt it.
The moment our skin touched, something sparked, something deeper than magic, older than time, and the connection between us flared to life. My eyes fluttered shut as his power surged into me, not just touching, but flooding through every corner of my mind. I felt his Vengeance, wild and raging, and my Wrath rose to meet it instinctively, the two forces weaving together in perfect, volatile harmony.
