Marina rolled her eyes.
Stupid, arrogant witch.
Naia ran an exasperated hand down her face.
A frightening smile split apart Acacius’s lips as he inclined his head. “You think you intimidate me, witch? Make no mistake, your blood can weaken us, but I am not like the rest of them. The spines you have lodged in me as we speak are not enough to put me down. Are you prepared to suffer in Tavora?”
Marina lightly kicked Acacius’s shoe, a reminder to keep his violent urges in check and not cut the witch in half.
His gaze flitted to her, charged with a disturbing impatience that she had faced off with many times now.
Ronin pinched the bridge of his nose. “You really are a pain in the ass.”
Marina laughed softly under her breath, agreeing with Ronin.
Acacius shot her a look, which only made her grin more.
“I understand.” Naia raised from her seat and stepped up to Acacius, hands joined. “I am young and still new in my position, but if you are willing to help me in getting some sort of protection for Ash, I will do as you ask. Trust goes both ways, and if Marina has put hers in you, then I will do the same.”
It was a careless thing to say, considering the last god she’d trusted turned out to be a lying son of a bitch.
Naia was an unsuspecting fool, but Marina couldn’t help but admire her sister’s resilient heart. She had always been different from most of their kind, even now amongst the turmoil that threatened her son.
Gods and goddesses, they all started with souls as full as hers that eventually, through the throes of immortality, drained away, leaving them hollow and yearning. But Naia had lived nearly a millennium, and she was just as pure in her judgment as she was back in Kaimana when she believed herself to be powerless.
“We have a deal,” Acacius said with a brazen smile. “Now, if you’ll be a good Little Goddess and make your husband remove his rancid bristles from my flesh, I can call our beloved Council to session.”
28
HAVE YOU EVER?
Acacius
“Tomorrow,at the first sunrise in the Land of Entity, we are to convene.” Acacius weaved the thick strands of Marina’s hair into a braid as he spoke. “In the Mortal Land, it will be closer to nightfall.”
They’d devised a plan with Ronin and Naia: Acacius and Naia were to meet with the Council and convince them to hold Soren accountable for his actions, and Marina would remain in Hollow City to meet with the traitor, ending in his captivity.
Soren would know they killed the falsified monster, and that Marina and Acacius were captured by the Blood Heretics. He’d be curious what became of them, and Acacius doubted Soren would expect Theon to connect the dots and spill their family’s secret.
Although, even if he suspected, Acacius was confident he would meet Marina tomorrow as if nothing had occurred. Trickster gods like Soren relished when the games that they weaved finally began.
“Do you think Iliana will listen to you?” Marina ran her hand back and forth in the cherry water. Steam drifted from its surface, clinging to her smooth skin.
It was nice to see her relaxed and in the moment.
When entering the hot spring, it had only taken her a few moments to work through her spiraling thoughts—deep breaths with his hand on her chest, peering up and counting the moths. Acacius held pleasure for his role in her progress.
He sat on the step behind her, submerged to his midriff with his fingers in her hair. Moths, white as a spider’s silk, fluttered around them, dancing across his skin.
“Honestly, I doubt it,” he replied. “But I promise to give it my best attempt.”
His mind stirred, the pressure weighing wearily on his chest at the thought of dissent between himself and Iliana, especially without Cassius present. He was the most levelheaded when it came to the three of them.
Marina went quiet, and the only sound between them was water sloshing as he braided her hair.
Soren’s betrayal struck deeply in her, and if he knew her as well as he believed, she berated herself for bringing him into Hollow City, so close to Ash.
“Tell me about the trickster.” He lightly pulled on her strand to get her attention. “Air your grievances. You’ll feel better.”
