I jolted from my thoughts when Hunter’s lips pressed against the top of my head. “You did well in there.”
The words rankled. “Was that a test?”
“Isn’t everything in life? You’re being gifted a position others would die for, Quentin. I wanted to see if you would be able to handle the unexpected when it arises.”
I swallowed the irritation. This was about getting Hunter to trust me. To see me as an irritant rather than a threat. The former was something he could live with. The latter was an issue that needed to be eliminated.
“As long as you keep your word about Grayson, I will make sure everyone thinks this was all my idea.”
He sighed. “Your loyalty to him is baffling. It must be the mortal part of you that can withstand humiliation and yet continue going back for more.”
My cheeks heated, and I looked at the ground. “You promised me?—”
“And I’m a God of my word.”
His word meant nothing to me, but I didn’t say that. When I looked up, something past Hunter’s shoulder caught my eye. Archer stood by a lamppost, watching us intently. He must have followed us earlier. When I caught his eye, he cocked his head before bending at the waist in a weak bow.
“I’d like to go home now,” I said to Hunter. And he had no idea how much truth was behind those words.
Despite the fact I had been alive for centuries, I’d never seen living as a chore. My guess was that because chaos ruled my life, there wasn’t enough time to be bored. No time to overthink. Impulse ruled supreme. There were earthquakes to cause and vengeance to be had, all in the name of fun. Eternity was my bliss.
Until it no longer was.
No Quentin. No powers. No life.
Hunter had failed to make an appearance again, leaving me to rot here. I wouldn’t put it past my brother to exploit that little loophole. He would bypass a public execution, not deeming me worth the hassle, and leave me down here until I was nothing but a pile of bones. It would be a move that would solidify what he said all along—that I was nothing important.
Pushing that last thought away, I considered the concept of death. The back of my head rested against the wall as I contemplated if it was possible to meet my demise in such a way. The cuff meant my powers were dampened, and I wondered if that meant I would be more prone to the ailments that plaguedmortals. I chuckled to myself at the thought of something as simple as a cold taking me out. I was a God. I rained chaos and destruction on lands. My hand always held the smoking gun.
The laughter grew as my thoughts spiralled. Maybe I wouldn’t quite end up a pile of bones. But if that wasn’t my fate, then who knew what would happen to me?
“You’ve finally lost your mind.”
When I opened my eyes, I was surprised to see Archer step out of the shadows.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Archer?” I asked, not bothering to get up from my spot on the floor. He didn’t deserve an ounce of courtesy. He’d never received it from me before, so why change the habit of a lifetime? Because I was set to meet my demise? I didn’t believe in a cliche redemption arc.
He approached the cell. I might not have been able to sense it, but everything about Archer screamed destruction and vengeance. The tension in his shoulders and stiffness in his gait gave it away. I would have paid good money to feel the chaos he held. It was my drug, and I missed how alive it made me feel. In the long hours that stretched before me, if I focused enough, I could feel the familiar tug of it in my chest. Dark and heavy and ready to claim me. There was never a moment that I wasn’t ready to be wrapped in its arms. To submit to my nature and bring out the worst of me.
“It’s astonishing how much arrogance you can have even when faced with death.” His finger ran down one of the bars before inspecting the pad of his digit for dirt. He brushed his hand on his trousers with a look of disgust. “Nothing ever fazes you. Untouchable until the end.”
“It runs through my veins,” I reminded him lazily. My gaze flicked from him to the wall and back again. “Imagine what a shell of a God I would be if I didn’t have my arrogance. How would I continue to irk you? It brings me so much joy.”
The muscles in his jaw tightened. “Hunter’s going to allow me to do it. He’s promised me. Your life will end at my hands.”
I held his gaze for a moment before pushing myself up to my feet and walking to meet him at the bars.
Archer had always been a solitary God for as long as I could remember. Whereas my isolation was somewhat forced, Archer always chose to stay on the sidelines. Sly. Secretive. He enjoyed skulking and occasionally letting the secrets he collected slip. Even when he met Elara, with all of her hope and light that ingratiated people towards her, he preferred to keep to himself. His world only expanded to include her. In another lifetime, there may have been a chance of him tagging along with me and Ig. But the reality was that his indifference to others and his penchant for secrets had placed him in a position of power amongst the minor Gods. As far as they were concerned, he knew enough while maintaining a healthy distance, meaning he couldn’t be used as a pawn. Shame to think that he’d given up on the last part to rub shoulders with Hunter.
“Will you braid each other’s hair when you’re done?” I asked, cocking my head to the side. “Perhaps you’ll fall madly in love and get married and that way you’ll feel fulfilled again and stop?—”
“It won’t be me getting married to Hunter. That’s Quentin’s job.”
The reminder sent a volcanic wave of fury through me. The weight of Quen’s engagement ring was heavy in my pocket. I’d rescued it from the dirt after Erik took her away. She was always quick to react. Not that I could blame her. Her face as I delivered those words of betrayal was seared into my brain. I’d never hated myself more than when those words left my mouth. Using all of her vulnerabilities and her deepest insecurities against her was not something I was proud of.
And yet, some part of me had hoped that Quentin knew me better than that. That even though she’d ripped my ring off her finger and threw it at me, that she would never leave. Some part of me dared to believe that I was loveable enough. That our bond was strong enough. I’d always had a slice of the proverbial cake and eaten it. This had been no different. But Quentin was a prideful creature, and my feelings teamed with our history had probably not even come into it when her survival hung in the balance. My golden girl had trusted her instinct and ran with it. That was exactly what I wanted…
“I’m sure she’ll make a beautiful bride,” Archer continued. A smug smile stretched across his lips. I would have liked to push my hands through the bars and smack it right off his face, but the cuffs hindered that particular pang of violence. “Blue really is her colour. And I imagine Elysia will be pleased to take her lead. I think we can both agree that Quentin is enigmatic. Rough around the edges, but nothing that can’t be?—”
