Thayla
1
They’re the sons of the God of Obliteration.
Impossible.
My eyes fight the darkness attempting to cloud my vision, and I sway as everything within me revolts. Each of them makes a move toward me, but I hold my hands out, shaking my head furiously to make them stop.
Gods, the true power they have.
The power they have over me.
I stagger into the back of the couch, laying my hand on my erratic heart. This is a reality I can’t grasp. A truth I’m not sure I can face.
They’re the sons of the most ruthless Beginning God. The same one who’s responsible for the creation of the Abandon, the Dark Gods who live there, and the silent war dividing this godly region.
Valories only know what else.
It’s not just the Binding on the side of the Abandon that’s made them as strong as they are. The strength and power he possesses flow through their veins.
Fear pulses through every drop of blood in my body.
My mind and heart war with one another.
The bleeding organ in my chest begs me to focus on the positives. They were worried that the pieces of my soul inside them are the key to keeping me alive.
That means they care.
I’ll be okay. They’ll never let me die.
Really? They’re already dealing with an evil, meddling god—their father. Now you’ve dragged in another. You’ll become too much, and they’ll decide you’re not worth the effort…
No one wants to babysit a grown woman forever.
No.
They’ve already accepted a god’s toying with me. Hell, maybe it’s their father. Maybe it’s just one impossibly powerful, evil god.
Also, two of them have professed they want to deepen our relationship. That’s a dream come true, and it’ll strengthen us. Our support for one another will only grow and become more meaningful.
Uh, not necessarily. That declaration came before the soul revelation. The only one of them to express they’re okay keeping your soul is the one who calls you his little burden…
Fuck…what if I am a burden to them?
The whispers in my mind shout over any other helpful reasoning my heart tries to show me.
A real relationship is impossible now.
The power dynamic tilts too far in their favor. I’ve lived with men who knew they were stronger and never let me forget it.
I can’t imagine multiplying that with godly men.
My strange, unruly abilities don’t compare to theirs, and they hold my soul. This truth adds to the power they already have over me.
And…this is still new.
I haven’t seen their worst. What if their worst mirrors their father’s? At any moment, they could decide, fuck the slow release—we want what’s ours.
