Page 56 of Lies Among Gods

"They're a bit stuffy, aren’t they?” Asmodeus purred, pushing off the frame. He walked toward the bar in the corner, pouring himself a clear, amber liquid. “You look like you need a drink, little goddess. Or a distraction."

Lyra slumped onto the plush chair, the heavy emotional exhaustion of the trials finally catching up. She felt wrung out, her bones heavy, and her mind a confusing mess of elation, pain, and gut-wrenching tiredness.

"I need a moment of peace,” she whispered, rubbing her temples.

“You’ll get that in a minute. I’m just staying for one drink.”

“How are you, Asmodeus?” She sighed softly, the quiet rustle of her breath mingling with the clink of glass as he poured a second glass, hoping the conversation would be brief.

He paused, tilting his head. “Me? I’m fantastic. Seeing you looking utterly divine after such an ordeal has quite improved my day… though it’s doing absolutely terrible things to my self-control.”

Lyra stared at him flatly. “You truly are incapable of behaving normally for more than thirty seconds.” She took the glass he handed her.

“Are you implying you’d like me to show you how I am in... person?” He finished his drink with a suggestive smirk.

Lyra exhaled, the sound heavy. “No, I just meant... Are you well? It’s been a long few days."

"I was lonely without your stunning presence to keep things interesting,” he replied, ignoring the substance of her question and focusing entirely on flirtation. “A full six months, in fact. But now you’re back, and I plan to make up for lost time. You’ve earned some indulgence, Lyra."

Lyra grew quiet, her eyes drifting away from his handsome, cocky expression. She felt the sudden, desperate need for genuine connection, for a conversation that wasn’t layered with innuendo and effortless charm.

When she didn’t respond, Asmodeus frowned slightly, his smile faltering for the first time. “Why the sudden silence, little goddess? Did I say something wrong?"

His words finally pushed through the haze and hit her like a sledgehammer.Have I really been gone for six months?

She looked at him. Really looked at him. His baby-blue eyes were beautiful, his demeanor effortless, yet now, through the cold lens of her emotional exhaustion, she wondered what was actually beneath the surface of the casual confidence he wore. It almost seemed like a shield—a perfectly crafted mask of seduction designed to repel any genuine query or depth. He was defined by want, and it occurred to her that perhaps he wasn’t capable of anything else.

She must have been staring too long, because a defensive edge crept into his tone. “What?” he asked, his posture straightening slightly.

"Do you ever,” Lyra began, her voice soft, “let anyone see the real you?"

Asmodeus paused, the glass halfway to his lips, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected gravity of the question. The seductive mask flickered. He quickly recovered, his smile returning, though it seemed a touch forced. “I don’t know what you mean, Lyra. This is the real me. Utterly devoted to pleasure."

Lyra laughed softly, a short, humorless sound that contained more weariness than amusement. “I just want a moment of peace, I think."

He studied her, his eyes narrowed. “You’ve changed,” he observed, the flirtation replaced by a curious observation.

Lyra shrugged, leaning her head back against the chair. “Maybe I have."

"It’s been a long six months since you left"

"Six months?” She asked. This was the second time he had said it, and it still didn’t feel right. “Was I really gone for six months?”

"Yes," he replied. “Half a year. One-hundred-and-eighty-two days. Elio was practically apoplectic about the chaos your absence caused in the media."

Lyra thought back to the single, defining day that felt like a lifetime ago and just a few days all at once—the fanatic, the knife, the blinding ascent. The look in his eyes was something she would never forget.Will I have to see those eyes again?She asked, her voice flat, “What happened to the mortal who... murdered me?"

Asmodeus's expression hardened, a brief, genuine spark of malice replacing the charm. “Alaios killed him, of course. Tore the fanatic apart in a fit of pure, glorious strife, right there on the temple steps, feet from where you fell. It was beautiful."

"Oh," Lyra replied, the sound barely audible. The knowledge that Alaios, who had just coldly walked away from her, had killed the man who killed her was a confusing, agonizing paradox. She wondered if he had killed the person who had killed her because he felt he should, or if he did it for her. And why he did not stay around to talk to her.

“Was I really gone for six months?” She murmured, not sure she wanted to focus on the thoughts swirling through her mind and heart while Asmodeus was there.

"Every single day of it felt like an eternity, darling,” he purred, his smile returning, polished and bubbly as newly poured champagne. “The ward was utterly dull without your disruptive presence. I may have had to arrange a few extra mortal conquests just to keep the boredom at bay. You really shouldn’tscare us like that, Lyra. We need our little goddess around to keep things interesting."

Lyra let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “I’m deeply concerned for the state of the mortal population if my temporary absence increased your conquest schedule.”

“Please. The opportunity thrilled them,” Asmodeus replied smoothly, pressing a hand dramatically to his chest. “Though none of them possessed your talent for causing chaos in my otherwise exquisite existence.”