“The elder gods sought to live in the world they worked to create.” He finishes with the last buckle and lifts a hand to cup my face. “Our ascension will wake the slumbering Aether of our realm, granting Life the ability to grow as it should.”
“And let me guess, we’ll all be shepherded by nyraphim.” My laughter is rife with fantastical disbelief.
“They’ll return, yes,” he says with a quiet laugh as he nods. “Along with winged fae, and dragons, and pixies, and countless other creatures once lost.”
My laughter dies as he holds my stare.
He’s serious.
Light take me.
Long extinct creatures returned?
All becauseweascend somethrone?
“Even if your stories carrysometruth, the pantheon would never allow for powers greater than theirs,” I say, fighting to keep my bitterness from seeping into my tone. “They’re selfish.”
Netharis’ influence was far wider than I could ever have known.
It’s been months since his death, and I expect threads of his corruption and deceit to continue to unearth themselves for decades, if not centuries still.
Ryc robs me of the warmth of his touch against my cheek. “And we’re not?” He asks, moving across the room to retrieve my boots. “Are we notdoing what we can to safeguard ourselves?”
My stare grows incredulous.
“We’re notgods,” I laugh, snagging my bracers from the thinning pile upon the couch.
“Perhaps not,” he says, shortening the distance between us. “The gods wouldn’t accidentally start a demonic House,” he teases.
My eyes snap to his as he laughs. “No, they’d do it intentionally,” I retort, bristling as he continues to grin. “I’ve already explained how it’s not possible—”
“You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it,” he says and I snatch my boots from his grasp. “Eve would absolutely be your first pledge or initiate.”
“First General,” I correct and his damned grin broadens.
“See.” He arches a playful brow. “You’ll have to forgive my unfamiliarity with the hierarchy of a demonic House.”
My bewildered laughter fills the room.
“Consider dedicating an hour everyday to lessons. You’ll need to clear time in your schedule,” I taunt in return, swinging around the couch to claim a seat. Setting the boots beside me, I reach for my other bracer. “I’ll torture you with demonic celebrations as Lilith has tortured me.”
Ryc laughs, perching himself against the mantle of the fireplace. He folds his arms over his chest. “You mean like the Reaping, Catamenia, and the Abyssal?”
My fingers freeze on the bracer’s buckle and I lift my chin to meet his amused stare.
“You know about demonic celebrations?”
“I had three centuries to learn as much as I could about my demon mate,” he muses with a curling smirk as he lowers himself to a knee before me. “This will be the first year I don’t watch for you during the Reaping.”
“You…” I give a breathy laugh. “Watched for me?”
Stared into the veilsearchingfor me?
Forthree hundred years?
“Every year for the entire week,” he replies as he takes my bracer, ensuring it sits where it should. “In numerous cities across Eldoterra.”
“Why?”
