He dropped his hand and let out a breath, unsurehowto ask the unnerving question prodding at him. “The temples resurrected across the city by your followers, do they also perform these spells?”
If they did, they hadn’t been successful. Cassian was meticulously aware of the souls in his Land, and since Finnian had made his vow, only those who were citizens of his city had not arrived.
Finnian inclined his head, mischief glittering in his gaze as he rested back in his chair. “If they were, how would you respond?”
The challenge provoked the High God in him to be taken seriously.
Cassian swiped his thumb over his bottom lip, eyeing him in a warning. “I may not have it in me to curse you, Little Nightmare, but the same cannot be said for others.”
“Finny,” he corrected in a snide manner that irked Cassian.
“At the moment, you are acting like aLittleNightmare.”
Finnian huffed out a smug laugh. “I am actually quite curious to see what hides behind this tamed facade you present to the rest of the world.” Under the table, Finnian grazed his foot up the side of Cassian’s shin. “The day you unleashed a bit of your true power onto the triplets, I could see a glimpse of it then.”
Tendrils of heat crawled up Cassian’s thigh. He raised an eyebrow, pausing the rim of his pint at his lips. “Shall I head to one of your temples now and put on a show?”
Finnian’s eyes darkened. “As much as I would find that arousing to witness, necromancy is not a teachable art. It is a talent you are born with. You do not have to fret about reckless mages mimicking my ghouls.”
Cassian had to swim pastI would find that arousingand the ravenous way Finnian was watching him to comprehend what all he’d said.
“I suppose I have nothing to worry about then.” He downed the rest of his stein in a gulp and licked his lips, aware of Finnian’s eyes tracking his movements.
Silence settled between them for a beat, thick and rising with a tension tingling across Cassian’s skin.
“The night is still young,” Finnian finally said, his voice sultry and glazed like molasses.
Blood rushed to Cassian’s groin, and he pushed his empty glass away. “I am ready to depart when you are.”
Cassian lay on his stomach,one arm stretched underneath the pillows, eyes closed. The sunrise of another day bled through his lids. Another morning tangled in the satin cloth of Finnian’s bed.
Finnian’s fingertip stroked feather-light drawings along the scope of Cassian’s back. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been out, but the sensation of Finnian’s finger brushing along the middle of his back had not ceased.
A flutter caught in his stomach and he smiled into the pillow. It had been centuries since he’dslept.
He blinked the sleep away from his eyes and kept still. If he shuffled, Finnian would know he was awake. He wanted to savor the moment for a bit longer, before he sat up with nothing left but to return to his Land.
The War of Sons had ceaselessly spread through the Mortal Land. Two sons from the same country—Julian and Silas.
In his childhood, Silas had been shunned and banished. He rose to monarchy in the neighboring country and reigned—just to overrule the family who tossed him aside. It was not about gaining territory. It was about revenge. A battle that had infected the nations, forcing other nearby countries to become involved.
The death count had grown significantly. With it, a choir of prayers sang to deities. Specifically, the High Goddess of Peace and the High Goddess of War.
All deities had mortals they favored. It was how they inevitably concerned themselves among mortal disputes. Which then turned them into deity disputes. It was the Council’s job to shut down any opposition between deities to avoid wars amongst their kind.
Cassian had already heard rumors of the High Goddess of Peace and the High Goddess of War at each other’s throats. It was only a matter of time until Cassian would be forced to step in and threaten one of them with a curse, simply to rein their personal feelings towards their favored mortals back in.
“What are you thinking so hard about?” Finnian’s fingertip stroked up the knolls of his spine to his nape.
Cassian smiled into his pillow. It was impossible to hide from him. Beneath Finnian’s aloof demeanor, he was always watching, observing, noticing every subtle shift of skin, muscle, and tone. This was one detail Cassian had quickly discovered in the few weeks of their relationship.
He rolled over, knowing Finnian did not have his hearing aid in. He’d recently started removing it in Cassian’s presence, when they were in the safety of his home, or during sex. It was a quality Cassian took pride in.
“The war,” he replied.
Finnian was propped up on his elbow, expression sated, looking intently at him. “The casualties?”
Cassian reached up and twirled one of his wavy strands. “Yes. Mothers, fathers, children. All civilians. Separated from one another.”
