Page 61 of Gods of Prey
Sebastian grins, and for a moment he looks exactly like the friend I’ve known for millennia, our standoff long forgotten. “Just like old times.”
“Better than old times,” I correct, glancing at Jovie and then at Sienna. “This time, we’re fighting for something that actually matters.”
As we begin planning our next move, I can’t shake the feeling that everything is about to change irrevocably. But looking at Sebastian and Jovie, seeing the love and determination in their faces, I know we’re making the right choice.
Even if it destroys us all.
17
Sienna
The transition from the mortal realm to Umbraeth always feels like drowning in reverse. Like I’m being pulled from suffocating light into the cool embrace of shadows. My spectral form solidifies as I materialize in the obsidian halls of my home, feeling more myself than I have in weeks.
Umbraeth stretches around me in its familiar glory—towers of black stone that pierce a starless sky, Duskvein Rivers flowing between buildings like liquid moonlight. The air hums with the energy of souls in transition, a symphony I’ve conducted for millennia.
Home. Even after more time in the mortal realm, this place calls to my very essence.
But something feels wrong.
The balance that should flow seamlessly between Life and Death stutters like a broken heartbeat. I can feel it in my bones, in the way the shadows seem to lag behind my movements, in how the souls awaiting judgment cluster uncertainly at the threshold between realms.
“Erebus,” I call, my voice echoing through the corridors as I make my way to the throne room.
I received his summons just after Revel finally fell asleep. The events of the past few days have exhausted him so much, I wouldn’t be surprised if he stays near-comatose for the next two days. All three of them likely could.
But I can’t let them waste precious time like that. Not when there’s so much to do. I knew as soon as the messenger crow arrived from Umbraeth that I should return home while the others rested.
Erebus appears before I reach the massive doors, materializing from shadow with the fluid grace that marks him as a true child of darkness. Where Sebastian and I inherited our divine nature, Erebus was born to it—crafted from the very essence of peaceful endings and gentle transitions.
“Sienna.” His voice carries relief and concern in equal measure. “Thank you for returning so quickly. How are things in the mortal realm?”
I pause, studying his face. Erebus has always been beautiful in the way that darkness can be beautiful. Sharp cheekbones, pale skin that seems to absorb light rather than reflect it, eyes like polished onyx. But now I see strain there, exhaustion that shouldn’t touch someone with his power.
Something is wrong. He wouldn’t have called me here unless things grew out of his control.
“He remembers,” I say simply. “Sebastian knows who he is.”
Hope flickers across Erebus’s features. “Then he’ll return? The balance?—”
“He refuses.” The words taste bitter. “He won’t leave the mortal realm without conditions. Won’t leave Jovie.”
Erebus’s expression darkens, and for a moment, the surrounding shadows deepen in response to his mood. “Sienna, we don’t have time for his mortal entanglements. The realm is?—”
“I know what the realm is,” I snap, then immediately regret my tone. Erebus doesn’t deserve my frustration. In a softer tone, I add, “I can feel it. How bad has it gotten?”
He gestures for me to follow him toward the viewing alcove that overlooks the Soul Processing Centers. What I see makes my divine heart clench.
Souls crowd the entry points, confused and directionless. Without Sebastian’s life force to properly guide the newly deceased, they’re backing up like water behind a dam. Some flicker between realms, unable to find their proper destination. Others begin to fade entirely, their essence scattering into nothing.
“It started a few hours ago,” Erebus explains, his voice tight with controlled worry. “Small disruptions at first. But now...” He waves a hand, and the view shifts to show the border between our realm and Aurelys. “Look at the boundary.”
The normally clear division between Life and Death wavers like heat shimmer. Patches of Aurelys’s golden light bleed through into our silver darkness, while tendrils of shadow creep into the realm of Life. The sight makes me nauseous.
“The Divine Council has noticed,” I guess.
Erebus nods grimly. “They’ve been sending inquiries. Subtle ones, at first—asking about processing delays, questioning why certain souls haven’t moved through the system. But yesterday—” He turns to face me fully. “Yesterday, Lady Myelle arrived unannounced.”
My blood turns to ice.
