But then all the anger faded from Alora’s face with her next breath, and her next words burned more than any light.
“Maybe they are right about you,” she said softly. “Maybeyouare the monster.”
Oh, he was made aware a long time ago.
Rune raised his goblet in a mock toast. “To monsters, then.”
Her chest heaved with angry breaths, then she stormed for the tunnel.
Once Alora was gone, he exhaled a ragged breath, rubbing at his temples as if he could scrub away the traces of her disgust.
Why did it always turn out this way? He simply couldn’t help himself.
“She’s right, you know.”
He shut his eyes. “You truly have a talent for arriving when I least desire company.”
Sunnëva’s laugh was soft like snow, gentle but impossible to ignore.
She stood in the dim foyer, where no light reached. The hearth’s embers cast faint gold across her pale skin, catching on the frost that jeweled her hair and lashes.
The air cooled as she drifted closer, frost spreading wherever she stepped. Her gown glittered faintly, spun from something between silk and mist, faintly swishing against the stone. Firelight caught the white gem of Sunnëva’s ring as she trailed a hand along the wrinkled cloak draped over the back of his chair, studying his scattered books, the empty decanter. Signs of sleepless nights.
“Oh, are you sulking?” Sunnëva hummed, tilting her head with quiet amusement, “This is your doing, you know. The more you hold her at arm’s length, the more she will not trust you. More so now that prince charming has arrived.”
The hearth flickered once, as if even the fire bowed to her cold.
Rune gritted his teeth. “He’s of no consequence.”
“Oh, I never thought I would see the day you lied to yourself. When I said she was right, I meant Caelum.”
Rune stared at her, his jaw clenching.
“Can you see it?” Sunnëva murmured. “What her life would have been life if you had not interfered?”
He could.
A glimpse of Alora in a meadow with Caelum, a crown of flowers in her hair, holding a blonde-haired boy in her lap. She laughed happily, nuzzling his cheek.
Rune’s stomach churned. “We arebonded. Her soul is tethered to mine. How can she belong to another?
Sunnëva glanced at the god’s mark on his wrist. “You know why.”
He gritted his teeth.
“You were obsessed with Alora the moment you saw her, Rune, and you convinced yourself she was meant for you. But we both know, when you came into being,thiswas not your fate.”
Rune looked away. “What do you know about fate? A disillusioned belief that fools toss around to convince themselves they were born with a great destiny. I thought I knew what mine was, but it was taken from me as was everything else.” He clenched his jaw, shadows writhing at his feet. “But when I fell into the darkness, I chose where my fate would lie. I rule the Netherworld now.” His fury stirred like a storm, wings snapping at his back. “Each god is incomplete without his bride and I, at last, have mine.”
“Yes, that is true…” Sunnëva canted her head, studying the monstrous features he couldn’t hide. They always appeared when he couldn’t control his emotions regarding Alora. “But we both know the throne of shadows was never yours.”
She looked at him as if she was aware of the pile of rubble that remained of Vorak’s throne.
He had destroyed it after Alora spoke his name, splintered it stone by stone.
The room grew hot beneath Rune’s ire and the candles dimmed as he stalked toward the Goddess of Death, darkness crawling up the wall.
“I will not suffer you to question my place, Sunnëva,” Rune said, the room darkening with every step. “The shadow throneis mine. Alora ismine. The Heavens nor any otherdestinywill steal anything more from me. Including prince charming.”
