“Of course you don’t. So, you sour little shit, how about you share with us whatever grand plan you’ve come up with?”
He holds my gaze as he pivots his body in my direction.
“I don’t have one yet.”
A harsh bark of a laugh wails out of me as I grip my stomach.
“Great. Lovely. Fan-fucking-tastic. So you’ve gotten us into this shit but can’t get us out. Swell.”
I throw my hands up, then flop back down on the couch. My nose curls at the looks Creed and Kyzen are giving me.
“What?”
“It isn’t his fault we’re here, and you’re not going to put all the blame on him. We all agreed to come here. Even you.”
I tsk and wave Kyzen off.
Yes, technically, he is correct, but Amick’s the one who got stabby-happy and pierced a dagger through ol’ Harriseen’s chest.
Had he not done that, we never would’ve had to face the Beginning Gods to begin with.
“He’s right. This is my fault and I will figure this out.”
“No,” Kyzen shouts. “We’re not starting this—”
In seconds, we’re all on our feet, aligned side by side as a knock at the door echoes around this stupid-ass makeshift living room.
Our glares intensify as Calista strolls in with a smile. She snaps behind her, and my hope sinks like a boulder falling into the sea when rather than it being Thayla, two Attendants follow behind her.
“I figured you all might be thirsty and hungry by this point.”
“Where the fuck is Thayla?” Creed asks as he takes a step forward.
“Don’t fret over your Binder. She’s safe and sound at your home.” She shrugs with a fake-ass innocent smile. “I assume.”
“What do you mean by assume?” Amick asks.
“Well, it’s been a while since I’ve visited the Godsdawn, and I simply couldn’t send her to the first location that came to mind. The second that popped up was the Court. Your father and I spent many nights there under the moon—”
“You starshot our Binder to the fucking Court?” Creed grits out.
“Where else would you have had me send her?”
“Nowhere. In here. With us. What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”
Her eyes narrow on Creed. It does nothing to deter him. His glare meets hers head-on and I run my thumb across my lip.
It’s so fitting that Death and Creation get along the least.
“Nothing is wrong with me for wanting to spend time with my sons.”
“I’m not your son. Can I go?”
She gasps, and fake-ass tears spring to her eyes as she lays her hand against her heart.
“Now, Riven. That’s very hurtful. I’ve always treated you and looked at you as my own. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even be here.”
My face scrunches as I drag out an umm. “If my memory serves me correctly, you left me in the Abandon more weekendsthan not. I believe your words were, ‘He’s too messy for my home.’”
