Page 48 of Throne of the Wolf Queen

I dragged in a breath. Shook my head.

He raised his brow. ‘One word, Villente.’

This was madness. There was no way he could be… If I said it, said the name burning through my mind, he’d deny it. Laugh me off.

‘Not brave enough?’

‘Vyrus.’

I waited. Waited for the derisive laugh. The denial. But my blood chilled as he raised his never-empty bottle and took another swig. A laugh bubbled out of me instead.

‘You’re Vyrus. God of Vengeance.’

A grimace crossed his face and fear claimed me. They’d warned me that no one, not one person, had ever denied Vyrus his Tribute. That he’d always claim what was rightfully his.

The curses died on my trembling lips. I gripped the wolf tighter. My knees buckled as I stepped back. Every trial I’d survived, every bruise I’d borne was for nothing.

He’d come for me.

‘Creation.’ The word burst from him, a swirl of stars shot from his hand, bursting before us. ‘The God of Creation. The cosmos, the universe, each and every star burning in every galaxy. My creation. My art. My accomplishment.’ His throat worked as he took another few swigs. ‘But what do you insignificant fleas call me? The God of Vengeance.’

Pablo lowered his head as the first shrill notes of a thrush announced the new morn. Thoughts swirled my mind. There were times I struggled to believe in the Gods and, apparently, the creator of all, a God who despised humans, wanted to kill us, who’d been denied his Tribute, stood before me, drowning his sorrows at the bottom of a bottle. I steadied the shudders and met his gaze.

‘Prove it,’ I whispered.

The bottle hovered before his twisted mouth.

‘Prove it?’ Hawk… Vyrus lowered the bottle, his brows furrowed. ‘Have you not watched me?’ He opened his palm and my breath hitched as a tiny galaxy formed in his hand. Swirling orbs, one so like Eusis, with patches of green land surrounded by a deep blue watery ocean, thin clouds circling snowy mountain tops. ‘What would you have me do, Sorrow Villente?’ He crushed the world in his hand. Crumbling the remnants into dust. ‘Destroy the world? Tried that. Didn’t work out too well for anyone.’

‘Have…’ I cleared my throat. ‘Have you come for me?’

Vyrus sneered. ‘Don’t know if you’ve noticed, sweetheart, but I’ve been trying to get away.’

‘But I was your sacrifice?’

He rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah. Again. Another cruel mortal idea.’

Pablo approached, his ears low as he nuzzled the God’s fingers.

‘Where does it say in The Chronicles, I want ten charred mortals every decade?’

It was my turn to furrow my brows. It didn’t. It was the Brotherhood of Tribute who’d always claimed we faced the end of time if we failed to present Vyrus with his Tributes.

So, if he didn’t want me dead, why was he here?

If he truly was Vyrus, the God whose jealousy sought to destroy our planet, then surely the Vyrium would be under his control. And if he could control Vyrium, then surely, he could…

I grasped the still-hovering dagger and thrust it towards him. His eyes widened as he took it from me. ‘It won’t work on me.’

‘No,’ I said, resolve strengthening my voice. ‘I imagine killing an immortal is quite the challenge.’

He barked out a laugh as the glade began to brighten. ‘Though not impossible.’ He tapped his chest. ‘Rather fragile hearts, remember.’

‘Can you remove the Vyrium? Control it?’

‘And there was me thinking you’d set me a real task.’

He raised his other hand and I smirked, noting how the bottle had gone. It was now clear he called it into existence whenever he needed it. With an almost bored expression, the Vyrium that a sweat-riddled blacksmith had imbued with the steel rose into the early morning light in tiny glinting bronze motes. With the merest flick of his fingers, they danced between us, swirling around my head, till Vyrus’s hands dropped to his side and the Vyrium fell to the mud.