“Tomorrow it is,” I said, leaning forward to kiss him.
He pulled back a fraction, hand cupping my face as his eyes darkened. He glanced at the setting sun. “We have a few minutes if you still want to ride me.”
My head fell back, and I laughed, wrapping my arms around his neck. Before I could answer, thunder split the air, and we both looked up, knowing it wasn’t the weather but the clap of Ig’Morruthen wings. Samkiel snapped his fingers, and not only was my bikini top back on, but he’d also added a bathing suit cover. He stood and glanced up as Kaden and Isaiah circled once high above us before heading in the direction of the palace.
I stood as they passed, lacing my fingers in his. “Let’s go see if you have assassins.”
73
XAVIER
My fist shot out, and Jaycee ducked.
“Your hair is growing back,” she said with a confident smirk. “Need me to cut it again?”
I tossed another punch, this one connecting with her block. “Yeah.”
I had kept it short against my scalp for a while now. Imogen once said that hair can also hold memories, which was why the old gods wore theirs so long. It was to remember the battles they’d fought and honor those who had fallen. I wanted to remember nothing.
Jaycee went for a punch, and as soon as I blocked, I knew I had made a mistake. She barely touched the ground before whipping out her foot to drop me on my ass. Maybe it was a lack of sleep or that my thoughts were going in several directions at once, but she landed her hit, and my back slammed against the dark stone of the courtyard. I lay there, arms spread wide as the sun darted behind the thick clouds above. Grunts came from all around us, several celestials training as they had been since dawn.
Jaycee’s face fills my field of vision. She wipes her brow with one wrapped hand. “You let me do that.”
“Maybe,” I said, making no effort to move.
She shook her head, her ponytail sticking to her neck.
The birds resting in the trees at the edge of the courtyard suddenly erupted into flight. Beneath their loud calls of alarm, a mechanical whir vibrated the air. The clouds were pushed down, compressed until they split to reveal warships longer than the courtyard. Four massive engines protruded from their sides, warping the air around them as they hovered above. The golden bronze and gray behemoths pulsed with energy, causing the celestials below to cover their eyes against the flying debris or run in fear of the sudden arrival.
“No fucking way,” Jaycee swore.
I sat up, raising my hand to my brow and squinting as I beheld the ships. “What is that?”
“Nismera,” Jaycee said.
AFTER CHANGING INTOour council garbs, Jaycee and I hurried down the massive corridor. Blayne had summoned us, along with two other celestials, to join him in the grand hall. My heart squeezed every time I walked past these statues and hanging foliage. The cream stone and gold accents reminded me so much of the Rashearim before the fall.
Our footsteps were quiet as we rounded the corner. Gods and goddesses of the high council were slowly spilling in, their sworn seconds and thirds following them. I noted the blades that bunched the front of their garbs and wondered why Blayne had not asked us to arm ourselves.
My back stayed straight as we walked in after Neth and her celestial guards. My breath caught at the glory of the large council room. The center was open, with a soaring ceiling overhead in the shape of an oval. Levels lined the perimeter, each supported by intricately carved columns. Statues of gods and goddesses, long passed, were artfully interspersed throughout the room, and flowering foliage dripped from every surface.
Blayne took his seat at the long council table. Given their massive size, every chair looked like a small throne with plush, cream-colored armrests and seats. Every god had a different, intricate design set to fit them. Blayne was the God of the Hunt, and antlers rose from the back of his seat.
Jaycee and I flanked him, keeping back a few steps as any good guard should. I glanced at Jaycee, my eyes widening a fraction as her lips turned up the tiniest bit.
The large double doors behind us closed, and Athos stood as the remaining gods and goddesses found their seats.
“I called this impromptu to discuss our unexpected arrival,” she said, gesturing toward the courtyard and the sky filled with ships.
“This is an act of war.” Koa was the first to speak. His long, dark hair was tied back from his strikingly beautiful face.
Athos held up her hand. “She wished to call a meeting, and I feel we should hear what she has to say.”
Koa said nothing, but I saw the tick in his jaw and the angry flush of pink dancing across his cheek. No one else spoke. No one here could pull rank on Athos except Kryella, and Kryella would never betray her longest known friend and ally. They were the oldest, Othello, and everyone else, falling far behind. So when Athos spoke, the gods obeyed.
“I ask that no matter what is said, we remain a unified front,” Athos said, flaring out her garbs before taking her seat.
Tension filled the room as the sound of armored boots came down the hall. It sounded as if Nismera had brought a small army with her. The doors opened, and my gut lurched. Two heavily armored commanders entered first, holding the doors, but it wasn’t until she stepped through that I saw red. I struggled to maintain my composure, my body vibrating with the need to attack.
