Page 84 of Gods of Prey
“They’re coming,” I whisper, materializing fully beside Revel, who stands by the window watching the Seattle skyline turn green with sunset. I don’t want to acknowledge the subconscious need to be close to him in the face of danger.
We’ve run out of time.
Bash and Jovie sit on the couch, hands intertwined. My brother looks up, his eyes meeting mine.
“The Divine Council?” he asks, though he already knows the answer.
I nod, drifting closer to the center of the room. “Everyone, prepare yourselves.”
Revel moves to stand beside me, his warmth radiating against my cold essence. We’ve barely spoken since last night, when he drank too much and confessed feelings I’m stillpretending I didn’t hear. Feelings I’m terrified to acknowledge might mirror my own. When Sebastian and I returned from the roof, he was already talking to Jovie in their kitchen.
“What can we expect?” Jovie asks, her voice steady despite the fear I can see in her eyes. She’s handled all of this remarkably well—learning her lover is the God of Life, befriending the Goddess of Death, accepting that their time together began in a timeline that no longer exists.
Before I can answer, the air splits open with a sound like tearing silk. A blinding light fills the apartment, and when it fades, Councilor Seraphina stands before us, her form shifting between human and something far more terrible and beautiful.
“Divine Siblings,” she addresses Sebastian and me, not bothering to look at Revel or Jovie. “Your absence has been noted with increasing concern.”
I straighten my spectral form, summoning what dignity I can. “Councilor Seraphina. We were just?—”
“Disobeying direct orders,” she interrupts, her voice like ice. “Manipulating timelines. Neglecting your divine duties. We see all.” Her gaze fixes on Sebastian. “And for what? A mortal distraction?”
Jovie flinches, but Bash tightens his grip on her hand. “She’s not a distraction.”
Seraphina’s form flickers with anger, momentarily revealing her true appearance—a being of pure light with countless eyes. “You have no idea what you’ve done. The balance between Life and Death frays with each moment you remain here.”
“We’re aware of the situation,” Revel steps forward, his voice carrying the authority of his temporary position as God of Life. “And we’re working to resolve it.”
Seraphina turns her gaze to him, and I resist the urge to move between them. “Interim God Revel. You were meant to retrieve them, not join their rebellion.”
“It’s not a rebellion,” I say, drawing her attention back to me. “We needed time to help Sebastian remember his divine nature. Forcing him back would have been counterproductive.”
“Time?” Seraphina laughs, a sound like breaking glass. “You speak of time as if it belongs to you. Your punishment is fifty mortal lifetimes. The terms were clear.”
Sebastian rises to his feet, and even in his human form, I can see glimpses of his divine being shining through. “The terms were unjust from the beginning.”
“That is not for you to decide.” Seraphina waves her hand, and the walls of the apartment seem to fall away, revealing visions of the chaos our absence has caused.
I watch in horror as scenes flicker around us—newborns taking their first breath only to wither moments later, elderly people lingering in painful half-death, plants sprouting and dying in the same instant. The natural order in disarray.
“This is what happens when Life and Death abandon their posts,” Seraphina says quietly. “This is the consequence of your selfishness.”
Guilt washes over me. Hearing about these horrific things is different from seeing them for myself. I’ve been so focused on Sebastian and Jovie, on my complicated feelings for Revel, that I’ve allowed myself to forget what’s truly at stake.
“We’re requesting an audience with the Divine Council—” I begin to say, but Seraphina shakes her head once and cuts me off.
“No.” Her voice booms through the space. “The Divine Council’s decision is unanimous. You will both return to your realms immediately, or the consequences will be severe.”
“What consequences?” Sebastian demands, stepping forward. The room hums with his power as his anger rises.
Seraphina’s form grows, towering over us. “Fifty lifetimes was merciful. We can make it five hundred. Five thousand. Wecan strip you of your powers permanently and appoint new gods in your place.”
I feel the blood drain from my face—or would, if I still had blood in this form. “You wouldn’t cause so much disruption over a small act of disobedience.”
“We would.” Seraphina’s voice softens slightly. “But we don’t wish to. You were chosen for these roles for a reason, Siennara and Sebastian. Your bond as twins creates a natural balance that no other gods could replicate.”
Jovie stands now, placing herself beside Sebastian. “There has to be another way.”
Seraphina looks at her, really looks at her, for the first time. Her brow quirks up in disapproval. “The mortal speaks.”
