Page 18 of Of War and Realms

Give them nothing.

Dark figures appear in the distance and I squint, trying to see who all approaches. I’m relieved to see many sorids among the group, some of them flying their riders, while others run faster than any mortal brain could comprehend. After a few minutes, I can make out the faces at the front.

Mother. Of course.

I also see father, Cyran, Bastian, Romial, Nythera, and Saida. Reign is missing, though I doubt they all would have agreed to bring every god over here. At least one should always remain on Europa.

My heart skips, and I almost lose my carefully placed mask when I see Calix among the demi-gods. I would recognize that blonde hair anywhere. The urge to run to him and tell him everything that’s happened is nearly impossible to resist, but it must wait.

Just moments from our small group, I catch my mother’s eyes and do not blink until Meca lands directly in front of me. Of course the other gods would bring their sorids, but did she really need Meca to fly here in her dragon form? Always so fucking dramatic. The sorid’s hot breath coats my skin as she leans forward to smell me, tilting her head at the males at my back. She narrows her eyes in my direction, and I know she smells who they are to me. She won’t say anything to mother, though. Meca has always had a soft spot for me; she may be mother’s sorid, but that doesn’t mean she agrees with everything the Goddess of War does.

As the witch herself dismounts, I take in the others. Bastian, God of Peace, rides a sorid that’s not his. Though I cannot imagine how a cetacean would be helpful here, so it’s understandable. I feel for him and Pena. Their bond is strong and it must be quite difficult to separate like this—especially not knowing if Bastian will live. His soft, sapphire eyes meet mine, blonde hair falling over his forehead as he smiles and nods at me. I return the gesture.

Cyran struts in front of her sorid, Amox. He’s a felidae like Xamira; but instead of black, his coat is a deep orange-red. Almost as if he were the embodiment of fire itself. The Goddess of Death has always been my favorite out of the rest. She’s menacing and sees fucking everything with those golden eyes, but she understands me. She’s never once judged or belittled me for just existing.

She loosens her black hair from its braid, winking at me. Her eyes shift to Emrys and Casmir, widening before they dart back to mine as her mouth drops open. I nod once and look forward.

She knows we’re your soul bonds, doesn’t she? Cas’s question confirms I’m not hallucinating any of this.

Yes.

Who is she?

Cyran. Goddess of Death.

And who are the rest of them, love? I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to quickly name them off before we all start talking.

From the left, the dark-haired male is Romial, God of Seasons. His sorid is Kahar. The smiling female next to him is Nythera, Goddess of Light. Her sorid is Pherin. I list the rest along the line, skipping her. At the right end is Saida, Goddess of Nourishment.

I’m guessing the one walking over here is Aeryn? Emrys’s voice is tight. Threatening.

Unfortunately.

The female in question stops just in front of me, looking me over slowly as if something on my person will be enough to queue a lecture. She looks no different from the last time I saw her, just before my visit to Earth.

Before Andras took me.

Her long, blond hair sits perfectly over her shoulder as her hard features shift into a scowl. When her eyes meet mine, it’s almost like looking into my own soul. Except her gray irises are lifeless. Cold.

“Anellah.” I internally shiver at her stern tone.

“Mother.” She’ll expect me to submit like I used to. That’s not me anymore. “How did you get past Andras’s soldiers?”

“There were none at the bridge.” My brows furrow.

We need to send a scout. Both males briefly acknowledge my words.

“How many did you bring?” I need to keep this conversation short and to the point. I’d rather not feel like a fucking child being scolded in front of everyone.

“All but Reign. Five hundred forty sorids and nearly ten thousand demi. The rest are half a day back setting up camp.” She hasn’t noticed them yet, so maybe I can get us all out of here without having to deal with her wrath right now.

“Good. We do not want to arouse suspicion with the city fae, so we will take the long way back to the castle. There are enough guest rooms for those in attendance.” Aside from the gods and Calix, I see two high-ranking demi-gods that I’ve not worked with before. The castle has three dozen rooms in the guest wing, so they and their sorids will all fit comfortably.

I gesture my head for the others to follow. We can introduce everyone later. Before I take a full step, mother’s voice sends icy panic through my bones.

Chapter Ten

Emrys

---