There was nothing he could do—except flee to the Land of the Dead and find her.
Acacius dropped into a crouched position and burrowed his head into his arms to hide in her darkness. The only thing he had left of her.
A guttural sob broke from his lips, the sound like gravel scraping together. He pressed his palms against his damp face, reverberating his wail as his sorrows purged free.
It was his fault. He should’ve left Iliana and went straight to Marina instead of Augustus. The stupid gnawing in his gut was loud before they’d parted, and he should’ve listened to it. He never should’ve let her go alone to deal with Soren.
He raised his head up to the monochromatic sky. A river of tears ran down the sides of his cheeks, over the dip of his jaws, and down his neck.
It was cruel, so fucking cruel that after achieving what she set out to do, her life was taken while protecting the mortal boy. The stupid fucking mortal boy with virulent, baneful blood.
It was a fate that Acacius could not accept. A fate of hisownthat he refused to accept. Losing Ruelle, watching her death, had changed him. But losing Marina, seeing her corpse at his feet, would be the thing that broke him.
He thought of their last moment in the hot spring, and how he’d been greedy enough to believe that he had time—time to tell her what she meant to him.
These were the arrogant, foolish ways of deities, believing to be invincible against the sorrows of the world.
Acacius was sick of it all—the gods and goddesses and the mortals and the Council. None of this would’ve happened if the deities would’ve just let the boy be; if the witches left Ash alone in Hollow City; if the Council would’ve intervened and stood in solidarity.
Acacius’s divine power pulsed in his veins.
“Stay here,” he demanded the child.
Setting his sights on the tallest cliff over the forest, he fabricated on its ledge.
Up this high, he could see the entire village of Tenebris woven along the gorges, under a dome of unending darkness. Against the alien daylight, it appeared as a slow, quiet hurricane of charcoal looming over the civilization.
Acacius glared beyond its blackness to the rest of the world.
Destroy them all,his Ruin whispered.
The urge vibrated under his skin, begging to be set free.
She called you here to finish what she started.
Acacius clenched his hands at his sides. The right thing to do would be to return the child to his parents, and then come back for her?—
You destroy everything you touch,it whispered back.
The cutting of Ruelle’s thread resounded in his head.Please take care of yourself.
The feel of Marina tucked into his side under the sheets of his bed, murmuring confessions in his ear.I would love to lay in bed all day, with you.
Acacius slapped his palm against the front of his head, gritting his teeth. “No. No. No!No!”
It is why you can never hang onto those you cherish.
Another frame played behind his eyes: his siblings in their fur pelts, warming in front of a fire, and the aroma of grilled meat trailing in the air.
Cassius turned to him, cheeks bright red, grinning as he flicked Acacius on the forehead.You forgot to fetch more firewood.
Iliana scrubbed her hand through his hair.What are we going to do with you?
The shrill in his head screeched louder, like nails to glass. He closed his eyes tightly. The nerves in his jaws tingled down his neck. Tremors quivered through his chest, and the sensation buzzed like angry wasps in his bloodstream.
You are a walking massacre.
He pounded the heel of his hand into his forehead over and over. His divine power swelled through his pores, fabricating all around him. It took shape and reached its coiling fingers out over the cliff.
