Page 88 of A Haven of Brimstone and Darkness

Ruen.

His face is marred by new cuts and bruises. He’ll have fresh scars. Otherwise, why wouldn’t they be healing? My eyes lift to Azai, who stands to the side of Gygaea, his face a twisted mask of smugness. Even if he’d felt or shown a hint of remorse, I know one thing about the God of Strength—he will die by my hand and soon.

“Fuck.” Theos’ quiet curse is loud to my ears, but it must not be enough to catch the attention of those around us because everyone is now focused on the stage as Tryphone appears, clad in an open-front black robe. It descends his long-tapered waist and further, splitting open even more as he walks to reveal the matching trousers.

“Welcome to the final rite, ladies and gentlemen,” Tryphone announces as he scans the gathering. He stops when his eyes land on me and I know, without ever having really considered the possibility, that there is no appealing to the monster that is my grandfather by blood. His lips form a slow curl until he wears the same expression as Azai. Gygaea is the only one to appear unmoved by the scene.

One brave soul closer to the stage raises a wary hand. Tryphone’s eyes shoot to the boy—one of those I recognize ashaving followed Maral during the Hunt. He’s a slender Mortal God with mussed hair like he just rolled out of bed and dressed in a hurry to get here.

“I thought the final rite was to be the Feast?” he asks warily as Tryphone stares at him expectantly. His hand slowly lowers.

Tryphone nods. “That’s correct,” the God King says. “The Feast will begin tonight. Right now, I have gathered you all here to acknowledge that a few of your kin have betrayed your Gods.”

My hands clench into fists, my nails digging into my flesh and threatening to split the skin. We betrayedthem?

A darkness rises inside me. An ages-old anger. I take a step forward, shoving between two Mortal Gods only to be drawn up short as an invisible barrier slams into me. My mind cracks wide open and my lips part on a silent scream.

Hands grasp at me, drawing me back towards warm male chests. Kalix. Theos. I try to speak, but can’t. All of my energy is spent trying not to collapse into a heap on the ground. Pain lances through the back of my head and it takes considerable effort for me to lift it to meet the piercing eyes of Tryphone, the God King.

It’s the arena all over again. He’s breaking through my defenses and slamming his way into my head even as he speaks calmly to the crowd gathered at his feet. Sweat collects against my brow and slides down the side of my face. I feel cold and hot all at the same time, my body trembling at the conflicting temperatures.

“Kiera?” Theos’ worried voice penetrates my pain and I wince at the added agony the sound creates, shying away from it on instinct.

Tryphone’s smile widens as if he knows he has me in his grasp and there’s no escape. My eyes fall to the man in the center of the stage. Ruen is on his knees now, head still bent as he dragsin lungfuls of air. I can practically feel his pain as my own when I focus on him.

Long lines have turned the skin of his bare back to ribbons. Shreds of flesh hang along either side of the whip marks. Fresh blood wells up, sliding over his spine and down to the waistband of his trousers.

I bite down, tasting rust and pain on my tongue.

Reaching into the core of my being, I grasp at the emotions that have always been with me. The buildup of resentment, of pain, of anger, of desire and I rip them free, letting them flow over my body and limbs. Straightening, I lift my gaze from Ruen’s prostrated form and stare into the eyes of the God King.

His widen as if he’s surprised by my daring—or perhaps, he’s surprised that I’m not on the ground, writhing in agony. Truth be told, I would be were it not for the way I’ve locked my limbs against Kalix and Theos—ignoring the distant acknowledgment that they’re trying to talk to me, asking me questions that I cannot answer. For if I open my mouth, I will scream. I will bring the mountain of brimstone that surrounds us down upon all our heads.

The pain is that great as it tears through me.

A glimmer of what might be respect enters Tryphone’s gaze and one brow arches over his square cut features. He gestures to one of the other Gods and finishes whatever he’d been saying. Azai steps forward, but his words, too, are lost on me. I hear nothing but the rush of blood in my head. I feel nothing but the tingle of awareness and the scrape of brimstone blades removing my skin from my bones.

It’s not real. None of it is.

But there is one thing I do know.

Fixing the God King with my gaze, I bare my teeth and slip the single most truthful statement I’ve ever made into my mind—letting him see it. Letting him read the honest rage in my soul. This is his last warning from me, and it is also my oath.

I’m going to tear out your fucking heart and feed it to you.

I swear it on my soul and on the hearts of the men that have become mine.

I will kill the God King. There is no mercy left in me for false Gods.

Chapter 42

Ruen

All I know is agony. Ripping pain through my body. My eyes feel swollen. My body limp with exhaustion akin to the period right before death—before the heart gives out, but the mind is still present. Aches gnaw at my insides, vicious little beasts with sharp teeth that shred and rip me open and consume everything in sight.

Kiera.

Kalix.

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