A soft scoff escaped Arden, tinged with amusement. ‘I was lying.’
‘Fae can’t lie,’ Kage said, his dark eyes narrowing like a stormcloud on the edge of breaking.
‘I didn’t. Not technically.’ Arden shrugged with infuriatingnonchalance. ‘There is a way out of the Black Lotus.’ His smile deepened, wicked and gleaming. ‘Death.’
‘You plan to kill them?’
‘No,’ Arden replied at once. ‘But I’ve no intention of leading them all the way to wolverian lands either. If they catch on, I’m a dead man. We slip away before they figure it out.’
Kage gave a slight nod, just enough to be felt, not seen. Across the firelit clearing, Elric turned towards them, his brow furrowed with suspicion, but before he could move, Nymeria emerged from the trees, and his focus shifted.
‘What’s the plan?’ Kage asked under his breath.
Arden leaned back, angling his body away from the others, and with an almost childlike air, began tracing patterns into the damp soil with his finger. A lazy and lethal grin crept across his lips and his green eyes glinted with a brand of mischief that made Kage wonder, not for the first time, what exactly Wren Wynter had seen in this dangerous man.
‘Leave that to me, Kage Blackburn,’ Arden said as he rose to his full, slender height. ‘Just make sure you can keep up.’
Kage watched as Arden sauntered back to Elric and Nymeria, clapping their arms in mock camaraderie, laughing too loudly as he joined them by the fire. And as the flames flickered in their eyes and the shadows danced in the trees beyond, Kage found himself wondering just what kind of chaos he’d allowed himself to follow.
I truly believe they don’t understand how dangerous a God-Killer really is. If Hades gets away with this…
It’ll be the end of us all.
Tabitha Wysteria
Mal fell into the sea.
One moment, she had been stepping through a door; the next, she was plunged into a churning abyss, a furious, storm-swallowed ocean that seemed to hunger for her soul. The waves crashed against her with merciless rhythm, dragging her down, down into their ink-black depths. She fought them, arms trembling with exertion, lungs burning, but she would not surrender.
A scream, raw and jagged, tore from her throat as her gaze locked onto a figure in the distance. Makaria. Her sister, flailing, barely keeping above the surface. The sky loomed above, not merely dark, but utterly devoid of stars or mercy, a void even the gods might fear.
Yet through the chaos, she saw them. White cliffs, stark against the shadows, rising like a promise on the edge of ruin. Hope flickered.
Gritting her teeth, Mal surged forward, every movement a battle against the undertow. But by the time she reached the place where Makaria had been, the girl was gone. Panic bloomed like fire in her chest. Without hesitation, Mal sucked in a breath and dove.
The cold hit her like a blade, and the water wrapped around her like shadowed silk. Yet the deeper she sank, the clearer the world became with less rage and more silence. There, suspended in the still gloom, Makaria floated like a fallen star, her eyes closed, her limbs loose and drifting. Mal reached for her, arms wrapping around the girl’s small frame, and held her tightly to her chest.
She propelled them both upward, lungs threatening to collapse. When she finally broke the surface, she gasped for air and pulled Makaria’s face above the waves. But the ocean was not done with them. Another monstrous swell rose, crashing down upon them with terrifying force.
Mal clung to her sister’s hand, refusing to let go. The sea roared, but she roared louder in her heart.
No more loss. She would not lose another.
Not again. Not ever.
Clutching Makaria with a grip forged of iron and desperation, Mal fought through the churning surf, each step a battle against the tide that sought to drag them both back into the abyss. Her lungs screamed, her mind splintered beneath the weight of exhaustion and salt, but still she pressed forward until, at last, the cruel sea relinquished its hold.
She collapsed upon the shore, the black sand clinging to her skin, her chest heaving as she gasped for air, each breath torn from the world like a stolen secret. Behind her, Makaria lay still until, with a sudden, ragged gasp, the young goddess spluttered seawater and began to cough, life seeping back into her limbs.
Mal sank her fingers into the sable sand, lifting a handful to let the dark grains sift between her knuckles. It was strangely familiar, the texture, the colour, the weight of memory. Her thoughts drifted to the shores of her homeland, known for their obsidian sands, jagged white cliffs, and waters as tempestuous as the gods themselves.
But this wasn’t a resemblance.
Thiswasthe place.
These were her shores.
She sat up slowly, frowning as her eyes scanned the coastline, piecing together the impossibility. Before she could dwell too long in disbelief, another absence struck her.
