He didn’t want her to go, never wanted to watch the sight of her back but he also vowed never to force her to stay. He kept his eyes firmly pinned on the hearth, waiting for the sound of her departing footsteps. She’d seen his temple, had a reprieve, and received an update. Surely business.
Instead of fading away, however, her steps grew closer, until she appeared in his periphery.
“It’ll never work,” she said softly, reaching a hand out towards the flames. “If Hunt’s plan is to hinge this all on a single mortal and one shot then, she will fail. I’ve seen what Chaos does to mortals . . . she’s far too strong to fall for something like that. We’ll have to think of our own solution.”
Creation watched her face.She dismissed all his work so easily. From the corner of his eyes he saw her fingers breach the pyre, though no pain marred her face. In a crackle of magic, the fire roared and then died, a single breath between life and death. Creation imagined seeing the darkness bleeding into her skin, sucking the warm yellow glow from her cheeks.
He was so distracted that he almost missed the implication of her words. “We?” Creation’s heart hammered as Destruction captured his gaze. Even in the renewed darkness, she seemed illuminous; in any light, it was impossible for him not to see every detail of her beauty.
For a long moment, Destruction simply scanned his face, searching for something—waitingfor something, perhaps. When she spoke, the look never shifted, never wavered to reveal her thoughts or intentions, yet it was impossible not to hear the half-truth lying underneath.
“My freedom depends on the success of all this,” she said, turning to face him fully. “I run all possibilities over in my head and it becomes clearer and clearer to me that you have no chance at defeating Chaos without my help.” Then, as if it physically pained her to say so, she added through gritted teeth, “I understand her better than anyone, demigod and god alike. I have to be involved in whatever end she meets.”
“You are not like—” Creation began to say before he could stop himself, a hand already reaching for her, the tips of his fingers just grazing the bare skin of her upper arm.
Instantly, the smoldering embers within the hearth caught flame, shining a light on the curiosity in Destruction’s eyes. She seemed surprised by his half-formed sentence. Or perhaps at the overwhelming magic rippling between them at such a simple, barely-there touch.
“I am not like . . .?” she whispered once the flames died down and the silence had stretched on long enough. Yet, neither of them made a move to pull away.
“You are not like Chaos,” Creation whispered. He desperately needed her to know that, though where it stemmed from, he was unsure. He simply needed her to believe in her own autonomy, her own personality, her own power as much as she claimed she did.
“How do you know? You have never met her or even seen her, have you?” Destruction raised an eyebrow at him, though her eyes glittered not with annoyance or stubbornness, but with mischief. As well as something Creation couldn’t quite identify so much as feel—like a tingling beneath his skin.
Creation took a selfish moment to raise a hand to Destruction’s cheek, thrilled at her eyes automatically fluttering closed. Just that simple touch alone filled him with an indescribable rightness. He knew she felt it, too.
“I may have been made for you, Destruction,” he willed himself to say after allowing one more moment to bask in the feel of her closeness. “But that doesn’t change what my magic, what myheartrecognizes. I don’t need to have met her—I knowyou. And that’s all that matters.”
“And what do you think you know?” Destruction’s words fell in a breath against his palm, causing a shiver to run down his spine. He wrapped an arm around her waist and led her a little bit closer. She didn’t pull away or tense, didn’t even hesitate, lips shaping a smile she seemed unable to bite back.
“You may have once been the other half to Oblivion,” Creation answered, filling his words with every ounce of honesty he possessed. “But now, you are the other half to my own. Whether you wish to stay by my side or not, the fact that I am your perfect match is a truth I will forever be grateful for. And, I have seen in you a woman all her own, unbeholden to anyone or anything else.” His thumb dragged across her cheekbone.
“If I didn’t know any better,” she smirked, swaying into him further as if pulling him into a silent dance. “What you’re describing almost sounds like love.”
Love.
Of course it was love. Of course this pull, both within their magic and within each other, was nothing other than love. He had never been more certain of anything in the entirety of his existence. But to be made as a counterbalance and to be in love were two different things, and he was suddenly desperate for her to know which path he craved.
“I had never loved until the moment I saw you, and now will never love anything as much.”
Destruction blinked, mouth slightly agape, before she was letting out a soft, breathy laugh. Any distance that remained between them was gone, their bodies flush together. Heat coiled tight in Creation’s stomach. His heart stuttered.
“You love me,” Destruction whispered, carding her fingers through the short strands of hair at his nape, fingernails dragging against his skin. She hummed as if in thought, her ministrations never stopping. “Close your eyes.”
This time, it was Creation’s turn to look confused. “What?”
“Close your eyes,” Destruction repeated, the smirk from before pulling at the corner of her lips. “I want to try something.”
With his eyes closed, the heat of her hand on his neck, her arms around his shoulders, seemed to intensify. When plush lips pressed first feather light and then more intently against his own, he registered no other sensation at all. The universe narrowed down to the feel of her tongue asking for permission, which he easily granted.
He melted into the kiss, thrilled to soak into each shared breath, each smothered moan. Eventually, when the kiss deepened, the same primal and desperate feeling from on the beach began to rise within him. Creation’s grip on Destruction’s waist tightened as he forced their pelvises flush.
Destruction gasped. Heat boiled low in his belly at the sight of her. He dove back in for another fierce kiss, lowering his arms to her upper thighs so he could pick her up, get her as close as possible. Destruction wrapped her legs around his waist and moaned at the shift in friction. Creation was almost stunned to find himself suddenly lowering her to the bed, his legs on autopilot.
For a moment, she simply rolled her hips against his growing hardness, a motion that had his eyes drifting back in pleasure. But he wanted more. Truly, he wasn’t sure exactlywhathe wanted. All he knew was that he needed to be as close to her as she would allow him to be, and his body seemed to have no problem pointing him in the right direction.
Instead of dipping back in for another kiss, as much as he wanted to—he wanted so much, too much, more than he’d ever wanted before—Creation lowered his lips to just below the hollow of her ear. She shuddered, a breathy sound leaving her parted lips. He gently nipped at her pulse point before kissing away the small mark, humming contently when one of her hands tangled in his hair.
“I want you,” Creation said, his voice alien and rough to his own ears. Destruction nodded, letting her legs drop and pulling on his hair to get him eye to eye.
