Page 21 of A Haven of Brimstone and Darkness

Theos shakes his head. “She doesn’t want to be involved at all,” he replies. “She only said that to make herself feel better.”

My hands curl into the edge of the table, nails digging into the hard wood until I can feel it splintering beneath my grip.

Thankfully, Ruen speaks before I can. “You can’t blame her for wanting to protect herself.” That damnable mask of neutrality is back in place. “Let it go for now, Theos. If we need her, we’ll call on her.”

Theos props his elbows up on the table and opens his mouth, no doubt to launch into some explanation as to why Maeryn is a coward who can’t be relied upon. Before he can piss me off in that way, however, a loud gong rings out across the dining hall. All conversation ceases as everyone turns toward the opening at the end of the room where three figures stand. To either side are Nubo and Zalika and in the center, a face as familiar to menow as the Darkhavens. My upper lip curls back in disgust at the broad expanse of his chest, unclothed but adorned with ropes of gold chain crisscrossing the muscles there. His skin is radiant even if his eyes are hard, cold, and empty of all compassion. Turning his head from side to side, the glint of a crown atop his dark hair reflects off a ray of sunlight pouring through the upper half of the transparent brimstone surroundings. When his gaze settles on me, his lips split into a wide, almost beast-like grin.

Whatever news he’s brought can’t be good. After all, nothing pleases Azai, the God of Strength, more than torturing his sons and no doubt, me.

Chapter 10

Kalix

There's something intriguing about a man with nothing to gain and nothing to lose. I've always found watching my father similar to figuring out a problem that seems, at least externally, complex, but is in actuality quite simple.

Azai is no man of great intelligence nor is he exceedingly handsome. His major strength is ... well, strength. And the fact that he can sire multiple powerful sons in a single year. Reclining on the creaking bench seat as much as I can without breaking the damn thing, I cast a bored look down the aisles of turned heads to where my father stands in the center of the entrance.

"Good morning, young ones," he says, his deep voice echoing through the vast space of the dining hall. "I am Azai, God of Strength and Virility. I welcome you to Ortus once more as I'm sure Zalika and Nubo have done so at our behest."

Annoyed and growing increasingly disinterested in the circumstances, I glance across the table to where Kiera sits, her back straight, her expression cold and impassive. Letting my eyes roam down her lithe frame, I inhale deeply and smile. She still smells of my brother beneath the soap and saltwater she no doubt attempted to clean herself with. Watching my LittleThief, unimpeded, I trace the angles of her long throat with my eyes. Imagining my snakes wrapped around her there and lower, using their minds and bodies to shift her to take my?—

My delicious thoughts cut off as Kiera's lips part and she sucks in a sudden breath. Recognizing the air of tension that lances through her body and that of the men at my side, I let my attention snap back to Azai only to realize he's no longer there.

Ruen and Theos get up at my side, their bodies moving quickly as several more start to rise from their seats. "What is it?" I demand, following the movement. Across the table, Kiera is standing and circling the slab of wood, not stopping until she's within touching distance. My palms itch to reach for her, to touch her, to drag her into my body and burn her shape against my flesh.

"Weren't you listening?" Theos asks, his face pinched just as tight as everyone else's.

I shrug. "Not really. Azai's words are never that important."

Theos casts me a look of utter bewilderment. I don't know why. He knows what Azai is like. A swollen, self-inflated bag of muscles lacking in anything else but the most minute of intellect.

"The God Council is here," Ruen states as the bodies rising from tables begin to make their way toward the exit. "They've called all Mortal Gods of both Perditia and Riviere to hear their decrees."

I roll my eyes. "It will be about their pathetic excuse of a reason to bring us all here," I say, turning as Ruen does and following behind the crowd of others.

Kiera steps up to my right and eyes me. "You guessed that this place wasn't a school, but a prison," she murmurs thoughtfully. "Any ideas on what they could have to tell us?"

A grin tugs at the corner of my lips and I arch a brow down at her. "Give me your tongue and I might give you another guess."

A scowl overtakes her and she stomps quickly ahead. "Never-fucking-mind," she shoots back. Theos, ever the dutiful lover and admirer, hastens to catch up with her. I don't mind lingering back though. After all, it does give me such a splendid view of her ass. More imaginings come to mind. Splitting those lush, rounded cheeks apart and sliding my cock between them, taking her there and relishing in her cries of pain as she's forced to accept every inch of my shaft into the darkest part of her.

Ruen rounds on me, disrupting my internal musings as if the man has a keen insight into my head. Then again, if anyone does, he might. His conviction to remain straightforward and honorable is almost sad when we both know that beneath all of his noble intentions and words, he's just as I am. Greedy. Selfish. An incurable monster. The only thing that separates us are the shackles of civility that he forces himself to wear, tightening them whenever they get too loose.

I cast a look back at Kiera's quickly retreating backside. She'll break those chains of his if he's not careful, and Gods, I cannot wait to see it.

"You need to be serious," Ruen growls, his voice lowering in warning.

I tilt my head to the side. "Why?"

He blinks as if he hadn't been expecting my response. He should know by now that few demands made of me are ever heeded. "We're in a precarious situation," he continues. "The Gods could kill us?—"

The tedious matter of listening to him becomes all too much. Waving a hand, I step around him and start walking again. As expected, he follows. "I'm fucking serious, Kalix. This isn't just?—"

"If the Gods wanted us dead," I say, cutting him off, "we'd be dead. Therefore, they don't want us dead."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ruen's brow crease. "Even if that's true, they obviously want something from us and it's?—"

"Of course they do." It's so damned obvious. The two of us exit the now empty dining hall and trail behind the large following of students several paces ahead as they're led—no doubt—by Azai and the two cronies of Ortus that had arrived with him. "They want our power. They can't exactly get it if we're dead." I slide him an overt look. "I thought you were the smart one, Brother."

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