Page 7 of Gods of Prey
The Elders exchange glances. “Three mortal days ago,” says Elder Thorn.
Three days. Exactly when Sebastian and Siennara should have completed their thirty-third life cycle. When they should have both returned to their divine realms.
“Has Lady Siennara returned to Umbraeth?” I ask, keeping my voice casual.
“Our counterparts in the Death realm confirm she has,” says Elder Frost. “But Lord Sebastian...”
“Has not returned here,” I finish for him. The crown of vines suddenly feels like it’s tightening around my temples. “I see.”
This has never happened before. In all thirty-two previous lives, the twins have died together or within days of each other—mortal timelines are much quicker than ours. Both always returned promptly to their realms. Sebastian has always been punctual about resuming his duties, eager to shed his mortal form and memories.
What’s changed?
“We must consult with the Oracle,” suggests Elder Bloom.
“No,” I say quickly. The Oracle would report directly to the Divine Council. If they learn Sebastian is missing, the consequences would be severe. “Not yet. Allow me to investigate first.”
The Elders look uncertain but nod in agreement. My word is law here, at least until Sebastian returns.
“Continue monitoring the balance,” I instruct them. “Report any changes immediately. For now, we will manage the disruptions ourselves.”
They bow and withdraw, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the whispering leaves of the living throne.
The Celebration of New Growth is in full swing by the time I arrive. The central courtyard of the palace has been transformed into a garden of impossibilities—flowers that bloom in colors not found in the mortal realm, fruits thatchange flavor with each bite, trees that dance to the music played by wind spirits.
I move through the crowd, accepting goblets of nectar and offering blessings to the spirits who bow in my path. My crown has been refreshed for the evening, now adorned with night-blooming flowers that glow with inner light. My robes, woven from the first light of dawn, shimmer as I walk.
“Lord Revel,” purrs a voice beside me. I turn to find Iris, one of the rainbow spirits, her skin shifting through all colors of the spectrum as she moves. “You look troubled tonight.”
“Do I?” I smile, though it doesn’t reach my eyes. I take her offered hand and press a kiss to her iridescent knuckles. “How unfortunate. Perhaps I could use a distraction?” I tease, ignoring the churn in my stomach at my cringey joke.
Her laugh is like wind chimes. “I would be honored.” She presses against my side, her form cool and warm at once. “Though I’m not the only one seeking your attention tonight.”
She nods toward a group of nymphs watching us from near the fountain. Among them is Lyra, her light dimming slightly as our eyes meet.
“I’m a poor substitute for their true lord,” I say, the words escaping before I can stop them.
Iris looks up at me, her eyes swirling with colors. “Is that what you think? That we only desire you because Sebastian is gone?”
I shrug, sipping from my goblet of nectar. It tastes of summer berries and morning dew. For some reason, the flavors are bitter on my tongue. “It’s the truth, isn’t it? I’m the replacement. The understudy.”
“For some, perhaps,” she admits, trailing a color-changing finger along my arm. “But not for all. Some of us prefer the shadows that occasionally cross your face to Sebastian’s constant radiance.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Shadows in Aurelys? Blasphemy.”
She laughs again. “You know what I mean. Sebastian is perfect. Untouchable. You are...” She searches for the word.
“Flawed?” I offer deprecatingly.
“Real,” she counters. “Approachable. You understand darkness in a way he never has.”
I don’t respond to that. She’s right, of course. Sebastian is light personified, goodness and growth without complexity. He was born for this role. I was handed it and forced by my mother to abandon my own destiny to fulfill it. I don’t resent him for it at all, but I sometimes wonder what I could have been if he and Siennara hadn't ever broken the divine rules.
He’s my oldest friend, and sometimes I barely understand him.
Although, I may be realizing that there’s more to him than I could ever understand.
“Dance with me,” Iris says, tugging me toward the center of the courtyard where spirits twirl in elaborate patterns.
