If I had known that bringing her here, that feeding her magic like that would lead to her writhing in my lap, breathless in my bed, and embedded into my heart…well, I would have done it a long time ago. What use is pretending that I would have made a different decision?
I know my sentence and I have paid my penance a million-fold. I knew I couldn’t keep her, knew that the magic that chains me here and demands my silence would take her away from me, but I did it anyway.
From the moment Taura told me Selene’s future, I knew this was my only chance to have her. One day with her was worth the disdain she’ll harbor towards me for the rest of her existence.
And in order to have that existence, I need to find the missing god blade.
This weapon is my only chance to save her from a fate worse than mine. I nearly scoff at the irony. The weapons designed by Creation to kill their powerful children have now become the only thing that can save them.
Two identical daggers were forged in the fires of life, their handles made of ivory bone. The gods of Flesh and Blood, the first of Creation’s divine children, were each gifted a blade. Gods may be injured, their flesh torn and their blood spilled, but they will not die unless a god blade is used.
The magic of Death is the only exception to that rule.
The Goddess of Blood was afraid that the children she tortured would turn on her, so my mother hid her blade. Little good it did her, though. She was the first god I slayed, and her death frightened the God of Flesh so much that he gifted his blade to his eldest son and tasked him with traversing the realms to kill me.
But Nobus has always been a selfish god—and he wasted no time burying the blade in his father’s heart and stealing his throne instead.
With the ability to kill any god I choose, I’ve had no desire to find the missing dagger. Not until now. My condition of eternal servitude to the Under Realm deems that I cannot interfere in this rebellion. If Selene has any chance of slaying Nobus or saving the child god, she has to have my mother’s blade.
Thunder claps behind me and I turn to face the Reaper now standing in my study. “Tell me you fucking have it.”
“I fucking have it,” the black-clad warrior says, pride tugging up the corners of her full lips as she pulls a bundle from her pack.
Obsidian fabric covers the steel, but the sight of the exposed ivory handle sets my heart racing.
“Well done, Amaya.” I nod to the Reaper as I take it from her hands. “Where did you find it?”
“It was in some warlord’s trove. I nearly got godsdamned crushed trying to retrieve it. Have you been to 1407, Your Majesty? They have insanely fast horseless carriages and flying death bugs.”
“Bullets,” Corvus corrects. “They’re called bullets. The king finds the quality of mortals in 1407 especially interesting.”
“Their penchant for evil is truly unmatched and I do love a people who grant me endless offerings.”
My eyes are glued to the shining steel of the god blade as I unwrap it. Eons of age and a few millennia in a hellscape realm haven’t dulled it a single bit.
It’s here. It’s really fucking here.
After months of searching every realm in existence, the one and only weapon that can give Selene a fighting chance is finally in my grasp.
“Amaya,” I say without tearing my eyes from the blade. “You’ve earned your rest. Go fetch Osrus. I need him to deliver this for me.”
The Reaper nods and exits my study without a word. Corvus soars to my shoulder, incessantly tapping his talons in an effort to get my attention.
“What?” I finally ask.
“You don’t have to send Osrus. Your time is up, Your Majesty.”
The raven is the only being who knows the extent of my sentence to the Under Realm, the only creature who can speak the words I am forbidden from saying.
Not that anyone would believe me anyway. A king, bound and gagged, forever cursed to serve a realm he supposedly rules— any sane person would laugh at the joke.
But it isn’t a farce. For every one day I spend elsewhere, I am imprisoned in the Under Realm for one month. And if I was to try to circumvent that rule, I would cease to exist, crumbling into dust and blowing away in the wind. My immortality is tied to theconfines of the dark void I call home. My eternal penance for being born with the power of death to a savage goddess.
“I think our queen is worth it, don’t you?”
I don’t waste my precious time responding to Corvus’ question. It was rhetorical anyway. He’s seen me these past three months—three whole fucking months since I kicked her out of my bed and shattered the fragile bond I insisted we make. I’ve been even more sullen and shuttered than usual.
Looking into his beady black eyes, I can tell the raven knows the lengths I would go to for Selene, maybe even more so than I do.
