And she hated him for it.
She hated him for caring.
‘Don’t,’ she snapped, stepping back.
‘Don’t what?’ he asked, his tone laced with something unholy.
‘Don’t pretend this is for me,’ she hissed. ‘I’m no damsel, Thanatos.’
‘Oh, I know,’ he said with a laugh, inching ever closer, driving her backwards towards the cliff’s edge. ‘You’re what nightmares are made of, Melinoe.’
She saw it then, the intent. He meant to push her. He thought she feared the leap.
But he was wrong.
‘Here’s the thing, Thanatos,’ she whispered, letting him advance, letting him believe he was in control. ‘You seem to think I’m scared.’
And before he could draw breath, before his hand could reach her, Mal twisted on her heel, seized his wrist, and with a savage smile, flung him backwards into the abyss.
His gasp of surprise echoed, followed almost instantly by a peal of laughter as he vanished into the depths of Hell.
Mal stood at the edge, the air rippling with heat around her. She turned, gaze meeting Zagreus’, who watched her with a faint, furrowed frown. The white wolf at his side howled as agoodbye.
Mal’s lips curled into a wicked grin.
With a playful wave, she stepped forward and let herself fall into Hell.
The twelve tribes of the desert are utterly fascinating. I’ve only had the chance to visit a handful, but each holds its own unique customs, laws, and rhythms of life, each one a world unto itself. I must confess, I have always believed that the most remarkable of all the kingdoms is the Desert Kingdom.
There is simply nothing else like it.
Tabitha Wysteria
Alina had followed the two Dunayans through the city’s winding heart, trailing behind as they were escorted towards the palace by a contingent of guards. She kept to the shadows, weaving between alleyways and scaling rooftops with the ease of a spectre. A smile tugged at her lips the entire way. She knew Isla and Arena had seen her, had sensed her, but that didn’t spoil the game. She relished the chase, the thrill of darting unseen across tiled roofs, the hush of her footsteps against sun-warmed stone.
By the time she reached the courtyard, dropping from the outer wall with a quiet thud that startled several guards into fumbling for their weapons, she had already conjured a dozen tales in her mind about why these two Dunayans had arrived onphoenixian soil.
Perhaps they had come to finish what had been started. To kill her.
But something in her heart whispered otherwise.
Isla stood tall and wiry, her limbs long and angular like drawn bows, her white eyes sharp as arrowheads. There was nothing soft in her face. Her features were all edges and quick glances, not classically beautiful by any stretch, and yet compelling. There was always mischief glittering in her gaze, a spark of something dangerous and delightfully unpredictable.
Arena, in contrast, was the gentler of the two in appearance. Shorter, with a fuller figure and a softness to her face. Rounded cheeks, a small upturned nose, and lips that were plush and expressive. Where Isla crackled like flint, Arena glowed like embers, quietly captivating.
Alina watched them with narrowed eyes and a guarded hope coiled tightly beneath her ribs.
‘Farahi-sahraa,’ Isla said the moment Alina stepped into the centre of the courtyard.
The courtyard was a square-shaped haven, open to the sky and enclosed by a lush tapestry of thick bushes and climbing greenery. A soft symphony of birdsong drifted from the branches overhead, where birds of every hue and size flitted through the leaves like living jewels. At its heart stood a stone fountain, its gentle trickle echoing across the yellow-stoned floor, casting ripples of calm into the warm air. The trees arched protectively overhead, making the space feel like a hidden oasis, a secluded pocket of serenity, sheltered from the weight of the world beyond.
The palace guards, tense only a breath before, eased ever so slightly at the sight of her, though none dared lower their weapons. Their stance was one of wary respect, as if uncertainwhether Alina was more guest or threat.
‘Yaa da aqi, ni na?’ Alina replied cautiously, keeping her distance, her stance coiled with silent readiness.Why are you here?
Isla blinked, caught off guard by the directness of the question, though only for a heartbeat. She quickly masked it, shoulders squaring, expression hardening. She took a step forward, forcing Alina to instinctively step back.
Alina noticed it then, the way Isla's eyes flicked downward, tracking her retreat, as though mapping her movements, calculating her hesitation.
