“I’m done,” I spat. “I don’t want to practise anymore.”
The sun was disappearing, drowning lower Elysia in soft orange and pink hues that seeped through the windows and cast long, menacing shadows across the walls. It was the perfect combination that summed up the heavens. Soft and scary—a dichotomy that felt impossible to exist under the pure weight of believers who deemed it as perfection.
“It’s important for you to learn how to manage it,” Archer replied patiently.
“I know and I can, but it’s easier with the cuffs in place.”
The disgust caused his lip to curl. “They taint what you truly are.”
“I don’t know what I truly am!”
“Yes, you do. And we’ll help you transition.”
“We?”
“Lower Elysia,” he said, spreading his arms out. “Everyone will want to help you settle into your new home.”
“This isn’t my home.” The words came out through clenched teeth.
In moments of clarity, over the past few days, I’d learned that Archer and I had differences of opinions that led to heated arguments. He was insistent that this ordeal was a gift and that I’d returned home. No importance or value was given to the fact that I had a life before this—family, friends, a career.
He released a laborious sigh. “The attitude is getting tiresome, Quentin.”
“Then send me back to Hunter.”
That was the last place I wanted to be, but I couldn’t think of another way of seeing Grayson. With every passing day, I grew anxious about his absence in my life. Divinity brought with it a lack of sleep that left me staring at walls and overthinking until I wore a hole in Archer’s lavish green carpet.
Had Hunter got to him? Had he realise how much trouble this all was and stopped caring?
“You don’t belong up there,” Archer said. There was an eeriness to the calm. His smile looked too pinned in place to pass as natural. “This is your home. This is where you’ll be appreciated.”
The doorbell chimed loudly throughout the house and Archer closed his eyes for a moment before ignoring it.
“My home is on Earth,” I argued back just as calmly.
“You’re not giving us a chance, Quentin. Nearly three decades rotting away on that planet without knowing what you truly are. You owe it to yourself to learn about your divinity. Unlock the potential you were created for.”
“Are any of you going to appreciate my existence as a whole? I’m not two people. I’m not a goddess and I’m not mortal. I’m a mixture of both. One doesn’t come without the other.”
People continued to take a swipe at my existence without considering the bigger picture. My divinity wasn’t worth it, and neither was my mortality.
As a child, I don’t think I ever truly valued myself. Never knowing my biological parents left deeper scars than I wished to admit, and I struggled to accept who I was. That changed when I was adopted. Mum and Dad helped me work through the anger and sadness, and I realised I needed to see and appreciate my worth. If I could do that, then fuck everyone else and what they thought. I’d forgotten that.
Yellow, the bright shade of buttercups, illuminated the room and cleared away to reveal a God. He bore a nervous expression and his soft blonde curls fell just above his shoulders.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said, staring at me from behind circular wire-rimmed glasses.
“Tobias,” Archer hissed, stepping in front of me. “I didn’t answer the door. Did you not take that as a sign that I’m busy?”
Tobias tore his gaze away from me and blinked at Archer. “We’re all busy, Archer. You told me this was of utmost importance and I cleared —"
“Go to your room,” Archer said, looking over his shoulder at me.
“I’m not a child,” I hissed through my teeth, unhappy with his tone.
Something inside me stirred. Something I hadn’t felt since I was on the floor in Hunter’s house. A warmth that flooded my chest with such intensity that it blurred my vision. It spread down my limbs before I refused to let it go any further.
My aura was the one thing I’d come to terms with because I’d mastered my emotions. Or so I thought.
