Page 92 of Gods of Prey
“Is that possible?” she asks.
I glance at Sebastian, at Sienna, at the swirling cosmos that surrounds Nytheris. The divine realm pulses with power and possibility, but also with rigid laws and ancient consequences.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “But Sebastian is right about one thing—you’re family now. And I don’t abandon family.”
Sebastian’s face transforms with relief and gratitude. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” I warn. “Thank me when we’re all still alive and the realms haven’t collapsed into chaos.”
But as we stand together on the terrace, looking out at the infinite expanse of divine creation, I feel something I haven’t felt since this whole mess began: Hope. Not much, and certainly not certainty, but hope.
We have a pregnant mortal, an unborn divine child, seven disapproving gods, and a cosmic balance hanging by a thread.
But we also have each other. And sometimes, that’s enough to start with.
“Come on,” I say, turning back toward the corridors of Nytheris. “We have a lot of planning to do, and not much time to do it in.”
As we walk back into the heart of the divine realm, I can’t shake the feeling that everything is about to change again. But for the first time in months, I’m not facing that change alone.
Sebastian walks beside me, his hand briefly clasping my shoulder in the old gesture of brotherhood. Sienna walks ahead, her form more determined than I’ve seen it in years. And Jovie, mortal and fragile and impossibly brave, keeps pace with gods and goddesses as if she belongs among us.
Maybe she does. Maybe that’s what we’ve all been missing—that sometimes the divine order needs disrupting. That sometimes love really is worth the risk.
I guess we’re about to find out.
26
Sienna
The gardens of Nytheris stretch endlessly before us, filled with flowers that shouldn’t exist together—winter blooms alongside summer blossoms, desert cacti thriving next to water lilies. It’s a physical manifestation of the cosmic balance we’re fighting to restore.
Jovie walks beside me, her fingers reaching out to touch a flower that changes color at her contact. Her mortal presence here is unprecedented, but she’s taken it all in stride. I watch her face, searching for signs of fear or regret, but find only wonder.
“We’ve only got a few more hours before we know our fates,” I say, breaking our comfortable silence. “How are you holding up with all of this?” I gesture vaguely at the impossible garden, at the crystalline spires of the council chamber visible in the distance. At the very fabric of reality that’s so different here.
Jovie’s smile is soft but steady. “Honestly? I’m still processing. One minute I’m hunting down cult members with my husband, and the next I’m finding out he’s actually the God of Life who’s been manipulating time to stay with me. And thechild inside of me has the potential to be...something terrible.” She laughs, but there’s bitterness in it. “And my dead friend turns out to be the Goddess of Death.”
“When you put it that way, it does sound rather absurd,” I admit, slowing my stride to match hers. In this realm, I’ve been able to return to my true form. Apparently, gods are capable of moving faster than mortals.
She told us what the Divine Council discovered during her tests and none of us have been able to stop thinking about it since. Hers and Sebastian’s child is destined to become the next God of Chaos—a god that was erased from existence centuries before we were even born. The one who nearly ripped the cosmos in half and caused a divine war.
Due to its divine nature the child cannot be destroyed. Instead, she’ll be forced to give life to a soul that has the potential to destroy all the realms. Neither one of them is excited for the Divine Council’s close involvement in their lives moving forward. But they’ve made it clear that they’re going to raise the child with love and warmth, not fear.
“I’ve already healed from so much. It seems like as soon as life starts to feel steady again, something comes and knocks me off balance. I’ve almost come to expect it. The strangest part?” Jovie continues, looking directly at me. “It makes sense. I always felt there was something...different about Bash. About you too, when we were friends.” She shakes her head, a nervous smile playing on her lips.
I drift down to perch on a stone bench, patting the space beside me. “Sit with me?”
She joins me, and I’m struck again by her calm acceptance of everything. “You’re not afraid of becoming immortal?” I ask, studying her face. “It’s not a small thing, Jovie. You’d be leaving behind everything you know.”
“What am I leaving, really?” she counters. “My sister has pulled away again. Her love is so conditional. My mother has all but disowned me. I have some friends from work, sure, but I think they only like me because I’m close with Bash. There’s no one I’m particularly close to except him.” She pauses, a slight smile touching her lips. “And you, oddly enough.”
The admission warms something in me I thought had grown cold ages ago. “We were good friends, weren’t we? Even though I was keeping secrets.”
“The best,” she says without hesitation. “You were the only one who didn’t treat me like I was fragile and unworthy. You haven’t judged me for needing vengeance.”
“Death understands vengeance better than most,” I say softly.
Jovie’s quiet for a moment, contemplative. “To answer your question about immortality—I’m not afraid. Intimidated, maybe. But I’ve loved Bash across two timelines now. After he did some wildly inappropriate things. I’d follow him anywhere.” She rubs her palm against her flat belly. “Plus, we’re forming our own family to worry about.”
