Page 95 of The Gods Order

“Well, we don’t really know more than that. Come on,” I say, ushering him toward my front door.

He, Rose, Yemi, and her whole Valtrue pile through and my lips tighten as Val and Meridamus slow their steps.

“We don’t have—”

I hold my hand up, silencing Val. “Creed asked that I get the two of you, so I did. This isn’t a blanket invitation to come over as you please, but he needs you here for whatever reason. So it’s fine. Come on.”

They spare me small, tense grins, then follow the direction of my outstretched arm. The murmurs floating through the house fall silent as we make our way in.

Regardless of the sudden awkwardness, my shoulders relax as my gaze falls on Creed standing in the center of the living room with his arms crossed over his chest.

He looks…almost back to normal.

“Well, looky at the two of you,” Derivius cheers. “Got a formal invitation into the club from my little troublling, huh?”

I roll my eyes at him.

Riven most certainly gets his instigation habits from him.

“Enough with the pointless chatter,” Amick declares, sending the house into a hush. “Creed, explain.”

I make my way to my sour Candyman.

Well, he’s sour to everyone but me.

He pulls me closer and lays his lips on my forehead as soon as I wrap my arms around his waist.

“Vihaan is stuck in Hellveilious.”

The silence that truly takes over the house is deafening. We could hear a feather of V’s hit the floor if he let one fall.

“Impossible,” Amick says, breaking the stillness first. “He died—”

“Twenty-eight years ago. I’m well aware, Amick,” Creed says.

No one dares interrupt him as he jumps headfirst into recounting everything that happened in the Crypt.

I didn’t even know Hell had a Crypt.

Guilt gnaws at me with every word. I hate that I didn’t notice something was wrong after Gladian shared the truth about Vihaan and his brothers, but in the others’ and my defense, Creed has always been terrifyingly good at hiding when something’s bothering him.

Especially when it involves his power.

The God of Death would rather bleed out quietly than admit something connected to Death itself might be beyond his control.

Hearing him openly describe his power reacting on instinct, dragging him toward the Crypt before he consciously understood why, sends unease crawling down my spine.

Kyzen shifts behind me as Creed continues to explain Vihaan’s strange disconnect with time and the way his thoughts drifted between topics. There’s a knowingness in his gaze that twists my stomach. It’s as if he understands exactly what decades of isolation and imprisonment can do to whatever mental capacity a soul has.

My chest tightens painfully as Creed describes what it felt like trying to free Vihaan. The confidence he had. The certainty. Then the failure.

My pulse pounds harder with every detail he gives us about how Obliteration’s binding is wrapped through Vihaan’s soul so deeply he couldn’t tear it free even a touch.

A fear I haven’t felt in a while settles through my blood. The realization that Creed—the God of Death—encountered something his power is supposed to naturally control, yet he couldn’t overcome it, scared him.

That scares me.

What if my soul can’t truly keep his from becoming attached to Hell as well?