Page 22 of The Goddesses' Gifts

“Brother?” Lhoris was standing above me, his head cocked. “What’s wrong?”

I didn’t turn my head, just wiped the drool off my chin with the back of my hand. “Nothing.”

Everything is wrong.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yeah.” I sat on my ass, sweat pouring down my face and under my shirt. “Must’ve fallen asleep. Nightmare.”

Lhoris’ lip twitched into a momentary sneer, but he shook it off. “We can rest a little longer and still be there by dawn. But I’m staying where I can see you, brother.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Lhoris shook his head and walked away. I didn’t care where he went so long as it wasn’t near me.

I hugged myself and curled around the raw holes, that weren’t really there, and breathed. In. Pause. Out. Pause. I had to look. I had to see how many I’d lost this time.

I didn’t want to look.

But you have to you, fucking coward.

Turning my attention inward, I found two gaping pits where my sons should be. The two older boys, right on the cusp of adulthood, so close to getting names. Names I’d picked for them when I got to meet them again after Lhoris healed me.

You don’t deserve to even think those names.

But where was the third one? The baby? For a moment I couldn’t breathe while I frantically rummaged through the shards of my shattered soul, searching for that third tether. It was lost somewhere in the turmoil around the two graves.

I found it nestled against something I’d never felt before. It was a partial … something, but warm and radiating the promise of life yet to come. There was only one thing it could be and the fact that he’d somehow found Ozanna in this mess was a fucking miracle.

My chest heaved. My eyes burned. But I clung to that little piece of impossibility and rallied around it. Just like all the other times.

“It isn’t my fault,” I whispered.

Liar.

It was Dulanzo’s doing, start to finish. Every bad place I’d ever fucking been, every wound, every loss had its root in choices he made for me. Choices he took from me.

Not even my self-loathing could argue that.

I sat up and wiped the sweat and tears off my face.

“Are you ready?” Lhoris asked from the bough of a nearby tree. He was so fucking calm it was unsettling after weeks of seeing him act like a lunatic. Or maybe I was just unsettled, and he was fine.

I turned my face up to the stars and begged, once more; please, please, please?

“Yeah,” I nodded and got to my feet. “Let’s go get this motherfucker.”

CHAPTER 11

OZANNA

Oshruli woke me up by flopping on my head. I grumbled and swore a little as I sat up. He had the nerve to giggle at me from where he was sprawled out across my pillow. I offered him an exaggerated pout and gave in to the impulse to tickle his tummy. He squealed and laughed before making a break for the chamber pot. I noted the cause and effect and decided to refrain from early morning tickles in the future.

Not that I knew for sure it was morning. My sense of time had completely faded away in the few days I’d been recovering here.

The only way I knew for sure that a day had passed was the arrival of meals and I was fairly certain that I was nearing day four. My body felt stronger and my head clear. Lucky since today would be the day I unlocked that door and quietly slit as many throats as I could on my way out of this hellhole. Sneaking wasn’t typically how I operated, but I had to keep the violence down to a minimum with a child in tow.

I taught Oshruli how to wash his face and hands. Or at least I assumed nobody taught him to do it. He seemed confused by the task but followed my actions better than I anticipated. His eyes went wide when I slipped the knife out of its hiding place and tucked it in my hip pocket. He murmured nervously and I had to hope he was bright enough to remain silent about its presence. I held a finger to my lips and begged with my eyes. He nodded, though his brows pinched in worry.

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