He sat up, cracking pieces of wood in his grip as he crawled to his feet. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t speak my name in public.”
Mansi barked out an amused laugh. “It’s a little too late to shield your identity, wouldn’t you agree?” She gestured to the deities around the room gawking at them.
He dug deep into the flesh of his shoulder to fish out one of the hollow cartridges. Slivers of his blond hair fell freely from his bun and stuck to his temples. He truly resembled a mad god, like the ones who bore a curse from Cassian.
He held up the bullet in front of his face, studying the magma blue carbon. “It’s been a while, Mansi. I see your inventions are still quite bothersome.”
As a middle goddess of machinery, Mansi’s bullets were of her own invention. They contained a chemical capable oftemporarily immobilizing a deity's divine power. It would take at least an hour for the effects to wear off. Though, with Acacius’s status and tenure as a High God, it would likely take half that time.
Mansi inclined her head to look at him over her gun’s stock. “Not as much as your presence. I waited all night to have my way in the Pit, and now there’s a fucking hole in the wall. And you want to talk tomeabout being annoying?”
“Forgive me,” he replied in a condescending lilt, lowering the shell. “I was chasing a mouse.” His gaze flitted to Marina, full of bloodlust.
Tension quivered the muscles in her face, but she maintained her indifferent expression, as if she were unfazed by his attention.
“And you came across a pack of wolves instead.” Mansi gave him a daring smile, intentionally baiting him, always itching for a reason to play with her toys.
Acacius flung the bullet at them. It rolled across the floor and hit the top of Marina’s boot. “Run away again,” he said to her. “It will not matter.”
To uphold her promise, she knew what lengths she would have to go through to keep him occupied. And Acaciushadto be occupied for her to see her plan through.
Marina would play his game for as long as it took.
She lifted her chin in a provoking manner, a curve to her lips. “Best of luck finding me in the shadows then.”
Acacius shook his head in a slow rhythm. A demented smile pulled the corners of his mouth up, contorting the expression on his face. “There is nowhere that you can hide from me, Rina.”
4
THE PARADISE OF REST
Acacius
The smellof sulfur greeted Acacius as his feet touched down on solid, mountainous ground. Firelight from the basins bounced across the cavern walls, drawing his silhouette against the granite.
He rested his shoulder against the stone, unable to handle putting his full weight down on his knee. After Viviana’s strike, he’d twisted his leg at a violent angle. The injury would’ve healed in seconds had it not been for Mansi and her infuriating ammunition.
He’d forgotten about the two goddesses and their close friendship to Marina, and it hadn’t occurred to him that there was a chance they’d be nearby. His only objective was to locate Marina. Seeing her in the Pit, breaking the pride of her opponent like they were an effigy, thickened the vicious taste for vengeance on Acacius’s tongue. He longed to do the same to her, and his attention had mistakenly tunneled on her alone.
The nerves in his palms tingled, still fresh with the sensation of her throat in his grasp. He saw the terror bubbling under theserrated surface of her eyes, and it had made his heart race in ecstasy.
The feeling fizzled out after Marina disappeared with Mansi and Viviana, leaving him in a destroyed lounge surrounded by deities that brimmed with curiosity, with nothing left to do but wait until the side effects of Mansi’s fucking bullets wore off enough to teleport.
Nothing had gone his way.
He acted too rashly, too impatiently, leading to recklessness.
Acacius’s abdomen tensed up, and he hunched forward, gripping the wound in his shoulder, still slick with blood. His flesh mended at an agonizing pace, but the pain was a knife traveling through his numb layers. He could hardly feel it in the muscles and arteries of his strained arms.
Even after confronting Marina, the emptiness in his chest lingered.
Blood pounded in his ears.
What would it take to go away?
A knot gripped in the base of his throat.
Gods, he loathed everything—the idea of returning to his bedchamber just to stare at his sheets, how Marina fought back with such little fervor, and that tracking her down and confronting her did absolutely nothing to expunge the ache pulsating deep within him.
