Page 74 of Invoking Ruin

“I can make you stay,” I point out. “The right words, and you’ll climb right back into bed with me.”

“Maybe,” he agrees, still far too calm. I’d been deep under his skin earlier, but he keeps his cool and his distance now, never coming closer than a few feet.

Of course he’s keeping his distance. It’s a tactic. Every time we’ve been close enough to touch, we’ve fucked. He’s not as immune to my power as he thinks. I could help him make a bad decision.

“But you won’t,” he says, interrupting my thoughts as if he heard them all. “You’ve had a century’s worth of opportunity to compel me to stay with you, and you’ve never taken it. It might make me foolish, but I’m willing to bet you won’t start now.”

He’s right. I didn’t compel him because I didn’t want to him to hate me. Now, as he doesn’t hate me but demands to leave me anyway, I realize it was a stupid decision.

Then he says, “You know I won’t ever love you, Atê. Not in the way that you define love. We’d be miserable together in the end.” His eyes turn sad, pitying. “Is that really what you want?”

I turn away, not able to look at him, not wanting him to see the tears stinging my eyes.

No, I don’t want us to be miserable. Of course that’s not what I want.

The lies I’ve been telling myself, the compromises, all flake away like ashes from a fire. It was one thing to stay by his side when he needed me, when he was defenseless as a mortal and just as oblivious. I would have fought the whole world for him, burnt it down.

But if he doesn’t love me, then there’s no point.

The sun is halfway beneath the horizon, spilling blood red across the sky on its downward path. Helios ending another day. I stare at the orb, the brightness, all-consuming.

Until it isn’t.

The red slips away layer by layer, and the sun dims. Above it, night claws its way across the sky, fighting the sun for dominion. A war has broken out, rather than the gradual pull and push they’ve followed with one another for thousands of years.

A chill runs down my spine at the sight.

“Dionysus.”

“What?” He’s close now, standing just behind me. It’s doesn’t matter.

“You didn’t call her already, did you?”

“Of course not.”

No, I hadn’t thought so. Nemesis can summon shadow, but not night. Not like this.

Only one goddess can topple the sun, itself.

“Fuck.”

It’s impossible. She’s in Tartarus, a place no one has ever escaped from. Even Eris had to be released by a mighty god, Hermes, on Apollo’s own orders. The titans locked further down the pit will never be free.

And yet, no one else can compel the night.

I remember the knife.

I run across the pavilion, sliding across the marble and snatch the rift knife from its plinth.

It’s already full dark, even though the sun had been fully in the sky just moments before. We’ve skipped twilight altogether.

I can’t deny the danger she poses anymore. She’s here. She found me.

“Come out already!” I shout.

Nothing but silence answers me, a stillness in the air that isn’t natural even in this magical, timeless place. The air has gone stale, unbreathable. Or perhaps it’s my lungs no longer functioning. Can a goddess suffocate?

Finally, when I can’t take it any longer, an imperious, familiar voice speaks. “You always were impatient, granddaughter.”

---