Finnian lifted his chin. A look of mild astonishment passed over his features as Cassian addressed him by his name.
As quick as it appeared, it vanished.
With his usual stoic expression back in place, Finnian said, “It has been years since you last disrupted my peace.”
Cassian’s eyebrows raised. “That is what you asked of me. Is it not?”
“Yes. It was.” More discomfort rattled in the timbre of his voice.
Cassian started across the room, doing the very opposite of what the voice in his mind chided.
As the bridge between them shortened, Cassian could feel the static of Finnian’s aura pricking at his skin. Bold, persistent, and warm—colors of magic and fierceness that he hadn’t realized how much he longed to be in the presence of until now.
He removed a hand from his pocket and held his fingertips over the hollowness of Finnian’s cheek. A silent permission.
Finnian’s eyes flickered from Cassian’s fingers to his face. A silent approval.
He cradled Finnian’s jaw and gently tilted his head sideways, tracing his thumb over the jagged, white puffy patch of skin beneath Finnian’s right ear. With the motion of his thumb, the glamor hiding the scar lifted.
Finnian sucked in a breath as Cassian measured the width of it by comparing it to his index finger. It matched the span of a water-woven whip he’d witnessed annihilating the flesh of its victims many times during the duels he was required to attend.
He studied the heliotrope crystal nestled in Finnian’s ear canal, lightly pressing his thumb into the base of the scar, wishing he could siphon the horrid memory from its tissue.
You care for him,Ruelle’s singsong voice chimed in his head.
“Tell me,” he murmured, moving his eyes up to Finnian’s. “Why did she do this to you?”
Finnian’s nostrils flared, but he did not pull away. “After Malik killed…” He looked sideways. “Killed Arran, I acted impulsively and revealed my necromancy to her. We fought. I lost. She banished me.”
Cassian knew about the violent exchange, but never gave it a second thought. Deities harmed one another as easily as blinking. Now, though, simply picturing Finnian lying on the moonstone floor of Mira’s great hall, wailing, sent ripples of fury through Cassian’s blood. So much so, he had to force the image aside to dilute his taste for vengeance, knowing he would not be satisfied until he inflicted the same amount of pain on the High Goddess.
“Can you hear anything out of your right ear?” he asked.
Finnian grabbed Cassian’s hand and lifted it from his face. The scar disappeared. “No. Not without my hearing aid.” He twisted his head and tapped on the crystal fitted inside of his ear. “I created it using a rare crystal.”
Cassian lowered his hand. “It’s powered by its properties and a spell?”
Finnian turned and resumed working on the sigil. “Yes. Though, it took trial and error to perfect. I went through several beforehand that gave me issues—relentless static, volume that was unstable and undecipherable. Once I managed to find the right crystal, the spell worked seamlessly.”
Cassian was quiet for a beat, jaws clenching. While his witchcraft and dedication never ceased to amaze Cassian, it did not water down the climbing rage towards Mira for inflicting such injury on Finnian in the first place.
“Do not pity me,” Finnian said, voice small. “I am able to hear just as an average person can with it.”
“Do not mistake my quiet response as pity.”
“Then what shall I take it as?”
“A deep anger towards your mother. She loathes you because of what you are,” he said, lip curling in disgust the more he thought about it. “She is afraid of those who hold more power than her. You are the first deity born in existence who is also a mage.”
Finnian gave a small chuckle. “I figured that out long ago in Kaimana. The servants talk.”
Cassian ran a hand over his squared jaw, suddenly wishing he’d cursed Mira with a punishment far worse than a lifetime trapped beneath the sea. It appeared the High Goddess kept Finnian’s title tight-lipped within the sea-dome of her kingdom.
“Your siblings aren’t any better,” he scowled. “Save for Naia.”
Finnian paused in his movements, drawing in a breath. “The last time we met, I was not living in a graveyard for the reason you believe.” His confession left his mouth in a murmur. Whether he was intentionally allowing his discomfort or show to not, Cassian was unsure.
He recalled the comment he’d made upon his arrival, swiftly pointing out that Finnian’s home was no longer a graveyard. It appeared the slightly judgmental comment had stuck with the young god. “Then why?”
