Coded knocks respond to Nina’s petition. Taura stands in the now open doorway, her raven hair pinned atop her head, blue eyes shifting to violet when she sees me.
“I told you she’d come,” the Goddess of Truth smiles over her shoulder. “And I am never wrong.”
“Selene has finally decided to join us, has she? Welcome to the rebellion.” Mikais greets us with open arms. I step to the side, avoiding the hug he seems primed to give.
The inside of the god’s room is exactly how I imagined someone with his proclivities would decorate. A giant four-poster bed spans the width of the room. At least eight deities lounge on the silver silk bedding, all dressed, thank Creation. Bottles of chilled wine rest on low tables next to crystal flutes, trays of fruit, and half-burned candles.
It might not be an orgy yet, but the room is certainly prepared for one.
I give the bed a wide berth as I make my way towards the floor-to-ceiling window that faces the mountains. The two suns cast the room in an eerie, purple haze as they descend below the range.
Even within the walls of the palace, my power can feel the moons that hover just out of view, calling to take their rightful place in the night sky. I yearn to give them what they long for, to flex the power that grows more restless with each day.
“I thought I told you to stay out of trouble.”
I turn my attention toward the black-clad god lounging atop apile of silver pillows. Legs outstretched, arms behind his head, and white hair mussed, Drayven looks more at ease than I’ve ever seen him.
“That’s your fault for thinking I’d listen to you.” I smile playfully.
“What are you doing here, Selene?”
“The better question is ‘what are you doing here,’ohDark One? Answering another royal summons?”
“Hardly,” he scoffs. “My presence is unwanted, which is exactly how I prefer it.”
“Well…if I wasn’t already curious about this rebellion, consider me intrigued now.”
“You shouldn’t be.” Drayven’s green eyes narrow, his demeanor shifting to something unreadable. “You should stay out of this, Light.”
I should, but I won’t. The kindling has been laid and the Golden Pantheon will be fully aflame soon. Siding with Mikais might mean certain exile, but a comfortable existence will never be worth siding with a king whose sole concern is power. A king so concerned with it that he would willingly murder his own child.
Eager to redirect the conversation, I pick up the red fruit from a nearby tray and toss it his way. “Here.”
A hand made entirely of dark magic shoots out and catches the fruit inches from his face. “What is this?”
“It’s called a pomegranate. An interesting little food I discovered on my travels. It’s filled with the most delicious seeds.”
Something unreadable sparks in Drayven’s eyes, there one second and gone the next.
“Why do I need a pomegranate?” he asks, turning the red orb over in his pale hand, the silver rings adorning his fingers pressing into the fruit’s flesh.
“It’ll give you something to occupy yourself with instead ofworrying about me.” I smile sweetly, beaming at the scathing look the Dark God shoots my way.
“Someone has to worry about you. You clearly possess no self-preservational instincts. Joining rebellions, begging to go to the Under Realm…”
“Gods don’t beg. And going to the Under Realmisself-preservation,” I correct.
“Is it now?”
“It is. I need a single day to make your realm shine. And all of that new light…well, that would feed my power immensely.” I bend down, swatting at his black boots until he sits up. Taking their place on the silver pillows, I lay back, imitating his former pose. “One day, Dark One, and my hunger would be satisfied.”
“It’s not your hunger I worry about, Light.”
Drayven cracks open the fruit and lifts the rind to his mouth. He drinks deep, sucking down the tart liquid. When he pulls back, a single drop of blood red juice leaks from the corner of his lips. Green eyes lock onto mine as his pale thumb slowly swipes it away, the silver ring on his finger sparkling in the purple light.
The sudden urge to lean in and taste it overtakes me, and I feel my teeth sink into my bottom lip.
Mikais clears his throat and every god in the room turns their attention to him. Every god except Drayven. I feel his eyes bore into me as the Wolf God speaks, but I don’t meet them again.
