My mind flashes back to the party just a few doors down, remembering the glimpse of red hair after someone touched my wrist – right before my bracelet disappeared.
The tangled threads of deceit finally start to untangle.
I get flashbacks of the undead corpse saying I was born first, and of Ragna knowing what I was because she’d smelled one before.
“It’s her. She’s the other Reaper,” I choke out.
“She is. And like you, she is a demigod,” Ragna explains, and there’s a protective edge to her tone.
I swallow, still trying to process everything. A half-sister seems easy enough to accept. I always knew it was possible that the man who fathered me had more children.
But the idea that we’re demigods? That’s a little too far out of the realm of possibility, even for me.
She must be lying, and I desperately search for a hole in her explanation.
“It’s still not possible. Need would have known. She would have leached all your power,” I argue.
If it comes down to believing Nymara or Ragna, I’m siding with my absentee frienemy.
Ragna moves to sit on a nearby chair, like she’s settling in for a lengthy discussion.
I stay standing.
“Need has many qualities that make her a formidable enemy, but she’s blinded by arrogance. She’s always focused on hunting beings from her own pantheon, believing they’re the only true gods. Others were occasionally captured over the years, if they grew powerful, but many of us have stayed hidden in plain sight,” she explains in an infuriatingly rational tone.
“So, who exactly are you supposed to be?” I ask, not particularly caring if it’s rude.
This is something she should have told me, and instead she chose to announce it to the rebel army leaders.
Ragna folds her hands over the silver layers of her gown, seemingly unperturbed by my tone. “The people of your realm stopped using my name long ago. But when they did, the Norse called me Sol, and your father Mani.”
At the word ‘father,’ I start to shake my head again. “No. This is quite literally impossible. My father is some random guy my mother had a one-night stand with. And you’re trying to tell me she slept with a freakinggod? That of all the possible people in the realms, agodlooked at my mother and thought – absolutely, that’s the one,” I finish with a harsh laugh.
Finally, Ragna’s calm façade slips, and she frowns at my tone.
I throw all my defiance into glaring back.
Not long ago, I would have tiptoed around this powerful creature, not daring to voice anything other than the quietest hint of concern. But those days are long gone.
“Your father was contacted by Clotho and set on a path to ensure you would be born,” she answers with a pointed look.
My stomach drops, and it feels like someone just pulled the rug out from under my feet.
How fucking far has the Fate been tampering with my life?
Ragna takes a breath, and her tone softens again as she continues, “This is why you were able to tolerate holding so many different energies for as long as you did. It’s why you’re able to function, even now, when your soul has been shattered.”
She’s still talking, but not even Sin’s grounding presence is enough to keep my focus on her words. Because as the truth of my heritage settles, one glaring thought stands out, and it sends electricity hissing under my skin.
They fucking left me.
“Gods are fueled by worship. It’s why I continue to hold power, since I’m worshipped by the Beast Realm. But it’s different for demigods. Demigods require ascension before they–” Ragna’s voice is like a dull echo traveling over a long distance.
“I don’t want to hear it,” I whisper in a flat tone.
She pauses, her shifter hearing easily catching the words. My pulse roars in my ears, even as she gives me a warm smile.
Sin shifts, wrapping a second arm around my waist. “Easy, kitten, stay with me,” he whispers in my mind.
