9
TIMOTHY
Aaron wore a black and gold suit, the jacket left deliberately open to expose his bare chest. The metal of the fashionable collar snapped around his neck caught the light in a way that made it impossible to miss, an elegant signal of ownership disguised as fashion. He looked radiant and vulnerable all at once, long blond hair tousled, turquoise eyes too alive for the role he was forced to play.
Seth stood next to him, a master holding the leash of his pet. His lips spread into a heinous, malevolent knowing grin as he met my eyes.
Cold sweat broke out on my spine as something hot and unpleasant buzzed at the base of my skull.
“Timothy,” Miranda murmured.
I snapped to myself, realizing I’d stopped mid-sentence. I cursed my show of weakness. “Our forces,” I began again, “bring divinity to the realms and that is worth gathering and celebrating in peace and harmony.”
The words barely registered to my own brain as panic swarmed my senses.
Gods raised their glasses as I finished my words.
I did my best to look completely cool and in control, though my every atom vibrated with excitement, anticipation, but mostly, fear.
Having said my welcome, I didn’t feel my feet as I traveled across the room.
My sense shouted at me to stop and think, but I couldn’t. Not until I stood in front of Seth. I vaguely registered Assirak and Miranda following.
Seth leaned fully into excess. His suit was richly embroidered in gold and crimson, gemstones generously decorating it, the cut immaculate but loud. The effect was deliberate—a peacock display of wealth and indulgence layered over sharp intelligence. He wore confidence like cologne, too strong, too close, and entirely intentional.
My nose wrinkled.
“Seth,” I said woodenly.
“Ah, the man of the hour,” Seth said loudly, as if he were the ringmaster of a show I was now part of.
My teeth creaked as they clenched. I was careful not to look at Aaron despite every part of me screaming to do just that. To grab him and take him far from here, somewhere secret. Somewhere safe.
“This is a godly affair, Seth. I don’t think others will take kindly to you bringing your Sekhor here.” My tone was even to my own ears, but I could hear the tightness in it.
Seth snorted into his drink—something deep purple that fogged over the edge of the martini glass, leaving little sighs on the air. “If Grim could bring his bitch to these parties, I see no reason why I can’t bring my...companion.”
I felt Miranda stiffen as Seth referred to our friend Vivien in such a derogatory way.
I wanted to punch Seth. I wanted to pull my power to me and blast him across the room. Wield my ribbons of glowinghieroglyphs and wrap them around his mouth and throat and squeeze until?—
“Who let the escaped convict into the party?” a new voice interrupted.
Seth’s face fell, as displeasure darkened his brows at the newcomer.
“Sorry I’m late,” Xander said, leaning over to kiss Miranda on the cheek. Then he wrapped an arm around her waist before full on grinning at Seth.
He’d slicked back his hair, though chunks of his dark locks had already escaped to fall over his piercing cerulean eyes in rebellion. A sheer indigo cape flowed from his shoulders and was embroidered with faint constellations that blurred between tides of deep water and space above. The outfit he wore was enchanted to match Miranda’s jewels, trapped stars and galaxies swirling on his suit, just for the evening.
I had to make sure they matched, after all.
“You complain of my immortal consort, but you allow mortals to attend our affair,” Seth sneered.
Assirak let out a low growl.
Xander threw his head back and laughed. “Ah, Set, you haven’t changed, have you? Still a raging, gaping asshole.” Xander’s eyes shone with intense challenge, using Seth’s old name unabashedly, unafraid.
A glimmer of savage madness sparked from Xander’s dark blue depths. Leftover from the many millennia he’d been imprisoned, mad with power and pain. His existence was a danger to everyone and the world until Miranda came along. Xander might be mortal now, but he still thought and moved like a god.
