Page 107 of Gods' Battleground

My sisters fell silent.

“Good,” Nyx said, claiming the goblet from Harker. “Now we can get back to business.” She drank from the goblet, then passed it to Ronan.

The Lord of the Legion gave me a long, assessing look. “You have turned out much better than I expected, Leda. Especially after I learned who your father is.” He raised the goblet to a tight-faced Faris, then drank.

Nero had the goblet now. He captured my gaze and didn’t let go. “No words could possibly express how I feel about you, Leda, so I won’t even try.” Emotion crept into his voice, breaking through years of hard training and total self-control. “All I will say is this: I believe in you.” He stroked his hand down my face. “You are stronger than Mordon.” He leaned in toward me.

“Kiss, kiss, kiss,” our friends chanted.

Nero moved in closer. “Crush him,” he growled against my lips.

His arm closed around my back, and I felt an exhilarating rush as he dipped me back, kissing me deeply.

Then he set me back on my feet. My head was still spinning when he picked up the goblet, drank, and set it down on the table again.

“That is all,” he declared with a sharp, decisive nod.

And so the goblet had come full-circle back to me.

I raised it in the air. “Thank you all for your friendship, love, and support.” I took a long draft, then declared, “Now let’s go kick some Guardian ass!”

CHAPTER 34

ONCE UPON A THRONE

The magic energy shield around the Guardians’ fortress kept out people, but it didn’t block telepathic messages. Fifteen minutes after I sent Mordon my offer, he arrived at Midnight Castle.

“So, how do you like my castle?” I asked with a smile, spreading my arms wide to indicate the newly-redecorated throne room.

Devlin’s team closed in around Mordon, cutting off his escape. Mordon looked around at his former residence, his eyes sharp, his smile smug. Even surrounded by my army, he looked totally at ease.

“Garish,” he declared.

He must have been referring to the forest of gigantic black-and-white banners hanging from the walls, each one bearing my new coat of arms: a pair of wings bursting out from an ornate crown. Tessa had designed it for me. Ok, so maybe the crown was a tad excessive, but Tessa had insisted that my symbol exude authority. And she tended to be right about these kinds of things.

“But it will not remain your castle for long,” Mordon added with a vicious twinkle in his eyes.

In response, I offered him an indulgent smile, then rose slowly from my shining throne—another of Tessa’s design choices—gliding toward him like a dragon on the water. “So you accept my offer,” I said when I was right in front of him, towering over the petite host body he inhabited.

My words were a statement, not a question. Nero had taught me long ago that angels didn’t ask; they proclaimed. And that totally went double for gods and demons. To survive the games of deities, to emerge victorious on the immortal battleground, I had to project strength, confidence, and ruthlessness.

Mordon stroked his beard—except Vertigo, the body he was inhabiting, didn’t even have a beard. That made the gesture almost comical.

“I have given the matter some consideration,” he said with a dismissive flick of his hand, as though my offer were hardly worth his time.

I didn’t buy his act for a second. He wouldn’t have come all the way here just to tell me he wasn’t interested.

“But you know what I want,” he said silkily.

Yeah, I knew what he wanted: Sierra. And he wasn’t getting her.

“Your daughter is far more powerful than you,” he said.

His body was relaxed, his tone conversational. He wanted me and everyone here to think he’d already won.

“Yes, Sierra is powerful,” I replied.

The way he was talking about my daughter made it very difficult to stay civil. I wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug expression off his face. But I couldn’t. I had to stick to the plan.

---