Page 8 of Gods of Prey
I allow her to lead me, falling into the familiar steps of an ancient dance that mimics the cycle of seasons. Around us, nature spirits and divine beings clap and sing, their voices harmonizing in ways impossible for mortal throats.
For a moment, I lose myself in it—the music, the movement, the adoration in Iris’s color-shifting eyes. This is what Sebastian left behind. This perfect, beautiful realm where he is worshipped and loved. Where everything responds to his touch, where he belongs.
Why would he not return?
The dance ends, and I find myself surrounded by admirers. Lyra has joined the group, her jealousy forgotten as she laughs at something I’ve said. Iris still clings to my arm, while a wood nymph named Echo offers me fruits from her own branches.
I am charming. I am desired. I am completely empty inside.
“My lord,” a new voice interrupts. A messenger spirit hovers at the edge of our circle, his transparent wings fluttering anxiously.
“Yes?” I release myself from Iris’s grasp.
“News from the boundary wardens,” he says quietly. “A disruption at the eastern gates. They request your presence immediately.”
I nod, relieved for the excuse to leave. “Ladies, you must excuse me. Duty calls.”
They pout and protest, but I am already following the messenger, my borrowed power flowing through me as I move swiftly through the palace grounds.
The eastern gates mark one of the boundaries between realms. Not quite Umbraeth, but a threshold space where the Duskvein Rivers stretch and life begins to fade toward death. The wardens there monitor the flow of energy, ensuring nothing crosses that shouldn’t.
When I arrive, I find several wardens—tall, ancient beings with bark-like skin and eyes like wells of sap—gathered around a disturbance in the air. A sort of ripple, as if reality itself is being bent.
“Lord Revel.” The chief warden bows. “It began an hour ago. We’ve never seen anything like it.”
I approach the distortion cautiously. “Has anything come through?”
“No, my lord. But something is attempting to.”
I reach out with my senses, extending tendrils of life energy toward the ripple. Immediately, I feel it—a familiar presence, but twisted somehow. Changed.
“Sebastian,” I whisper.
But it’s not quite him. The energy signature is similar yet altered, as if viewed through murky water. And there’ssomething else with it. Another presence, warm and bright, but definitely mortal.
He’s not alone. And he’s not himself.
“My lord?” The chief warden looks concerned.
I withdraw my senses, mind racing. “Maintain your positions. Allow nothing through without my direct authorization.”
“And if Lord Sebastian returns?” asks one of the younger wardens.
If it were truly Sebastian in his divine form, he wouldn’t need to create a ripple. He would simply be here, stepping back into his realm as easily as breathing.
This is something else. Sebastian attempting to access his divine power while still in mortal form? Or something worse?
“Especially then,” I say firmly. “Notify me immediately.”
I turn away from the gate, decisions forming rapidly in my mind. I need information. I need to understand what’s happened to my friend.
I need Siennara.
The thought comes unbidden, and I almost dismiss it immediately. She and I have never been close. As Sebastian’s twin and the Goddess of Death, she represents everything opposite to what I stand for. Our encounters over the millennia have been brief and often antagonistic.
She is the embodiment of everything opposite of what we stand for in Aurelys. Ruthless. Cunning. Hostile toward other gods. And the divine beings that reside in Umbraeth are the same. No one really knows how she keeps order over them, but there are rumors of things Sebastian and I would find unimaginable. It’s a wonder how any soul could choose to retire there for the rest of eternity, though they don’t have much of a choice.
I don’twantto need her.
