The Goddess of Illusion finally pays me attention. I bite my cheek until I taste blood.
My gaze slides to Ellian.
“No.” My harsh denial echoes through his room. “I’ll find another way. I don’t want anything from her.”
His eyes plead with me, but I think the fuck not.
She won’t be anywhere near this. Me. My men.
Fuck no.
“My, my. I’ve apparently offended you in some sort of way. I haven’t the slightest clue how, though. I don’t know—”
“And you won’t know me. You will stay the fuck away from me and my men.”
“Ellian?” she asks with an impatient tone that causes me to tighten my jaw.
“Thayla is Riven, Creed, Amick, and Kyzen’s Binder.”
That gets her attention, but my glare stays on Ellian.
“I said no. I’m leaving now.”
My march toward the door slams to a stop when the fucking exit disappears. The wall becomes whole. My hands trace the surface, but each time I find the break in the illusion, she shifts it.
“Enough!” I shout. “Let me out of this room. Now.”
My body tingles as I spin back around and stare at her. I want to knock the curious fucking look right off her face.
“Why do you detest me so?” she asks as if the answer is actually important to her. My body shakes.
“Why does it matter?”
“I’m a nonconfrontational being. I’ve prided myself my whole life on being neutral to every situation, every being. Outside of my daughter and son-in-law, I’ve never met anyone who held such disdain toward me.”
“Neutral.” A humorless laugh escapes me as I take a step toward her. “The imitation rooms. The ones that trap people in their fears and force them to live through them over and over again. You help build those. Are they neutral? Did the beings—my men, me, Lucia Nightly, countless others—did we have a choice about going in there? Were our emotions just supposed to stay…neutral through that?”
Her gaze sharpens slightly, but she doesn’t deny it or come up with an excuse for it.
So I keep going.
“You helped put a child on a throne in Hell,” I snap. “And instead of stopping it, you made sure he had a way out if it went wrong. You’ve stood by while the Beginning Gods have done whatever they wanted. Hurt whoever they wanted. And youhelped them do it.”
The space around us stills, like even the illusions she has cast around the room are listening to me now.
Good. Let every part of her listen.
“Don’t think I don’t see the good. Our homes. Our carriages. The Hailtorium, the Athenaeum, the Sanctum. The systems built within them. The way you’ve made life easier for all of us gods.” My jaw tightens. “But that doesn’t erase the rest.”
“Why?” she asks.
“Because you don’t get to hide behind the good you’ve done to excuse the damage you’ve helped cause.”
She tilts her head a fraction. With the way her face continues to morph, I can’t tell if she’s truly considering my words or just completely baffled.
“I don’t,” she says.
The answer hits me wrong. It’s too honest. Too damn simple.
