Something dangerous ripples throughout the crowd as the cheering resounds again. Hope, deadly and blinding, fuels the fire ignited by the Wolf God’s call-to-arms. I search the faces of the gods around me and find it splayed across each of them. I commit their faces to memory, knowing that this may be the last time we all stand together in this realm.
Taura squeezes my hand gently as she does the same. She has read the fates of too many of us to still believe that we win this rebellion. It’s true that fate can be changed, but the only way this outcome changes is if we do not fight at all.
The energy buzzing from the deities that gather here is not one of submission. The fire has been lit and now we will all burn.
A pair of green eyes glow in the distance. I slip back into the shadows toward their owner as Nina begins to read off the plan of attack and the role each god will play in the battle ahead.
“Last chance to run away,” Drayven says as I approach. “You could hide out in another realm until this is over.”
“You know as well I do that this is a long way from over,” I reply. “And the prince doesn’t live without me.”
“So it’s decided then? She agreed?”
I slip the two daggers from the sheathes hidden in the sides of my black leather pants. “You could say that.”
Drayven’s eyes go wide at the sight of both god blades. The blade he found and the one Arcasia stole from her husband, reunited at last after millennias apart. He takes one from my hand, turning it over.
“Is this…” His words trail off as he examines the new addition to the weapon. Arcasia’s markings, sigils of her protection, run down the center of the alloy blade.
Death pricks his finger with the point of the god blade. A single drop of his blood lands atop the symbols, each glowing a brilliant shade of cerulean as the divine liquid runs across them.
“She imbued them with her magic.” Drayven’s awe shifts to wicked delight. “How did she know they can be altered if they’re brought together?”
“Turns out that book wasn’t completely useless.”
“Clearly. When he notices this is missing…” Drayven pushes his white hair behind his ear as his voice trails off. He doesn’t have to finish the sentence. We already know that Nobus will harm Arcasia for this and she knows it too.
I sheathe the blades at my sides, silently hoping the need to use them doesn’t arise. The shadows grow thick around us as the Dark God pulls me against his chest and wraps me in his reassuring strength. His nose buries in my hair, breathing me in deeply.
Rising up on my toes, I twist and pull Drayven’s mouth to mine. Our kiss is slow and consuming. I commit every movement to memory—from the way he tugs on my bottom lip to the wayour tongues tangle effortlessly. There is no part of him I don’t want to remember.
Any moment now, Lyra’s battle cry will sound. We both know I am about to march into an unwinnable battle. A lost cause. But instead of feeling scared, I am determined.
I am not a cog in the wheel, I am the linchpin. The future of the Golden Pantheon rests on my shoulders and in my womb. I am the Goddess of Light and the Queen of the Under Realm.
And I have a plan to save us all.
Drayven breaks the kiss first. The backs of his knuckles trail across my cheekbones as he stares into my eyes. I grant myself the briefest indulgence, a fleeting second spent drowning in the infinite depths of his gaze.
In this moment, I understand why simpering mortals fall to their knees and beg for our favor. Gods do not pray—there is no higher power who watches over us. There is no one to hear our pleas, no being who grants us the desires of our hearts. There is no one to save us but ourselves.
“Meet me at the overlook just before sunrise.”
Drayven presses his forehead against mine, our lips grazing one final time. “I will always meet you, my light.”
The deep bass notes of a harp pierce the shadows and I know it’s time. I steal one last look at the god who stole my heart before I step out of the shadows.
Lyra’s song echoes through the Great Wildes, her magic spearing the souls of the waiting deities, commanding their powers to rise up and meet her. The Goddess of Song throws her head back with one final roaring note and the end begins.
CHAPTER 13
DEATH
The wild, heedless song of magic washes through the God King’s palace. It calls to me, urging me to join in the battle. Blood coats the floors, veins of crimson spidering across the white and gold marble. Flames climb the curtains and engulf the oil paintings that decorate the walls. Glass shatters as a god is thrown casually through the floor-length window.
It’s complete and utter mayhem—and I fucking love it.
The gods cannot die, but that doesn’t stop them from beating the living shit out of each other. Grunts and screams resound from every room.
