Page 100 of A Reign of Malice
AURORA
Damn those furballs. I kick the chair in front of me—solid marble, ancient, and priceless. It shatters like cheap pottery. A fitting metaphor for my mood.
I stalk across the chamber, throwing open the doors to my back patio and stepping into the open air. The horizon is blanketed in clouds, stretching in endless grays and whites. My sanctuary. My realm. The one place in all the godly spheres that should’ve remained untouched.
And yet, I letthemin.
Wolves turned into shifters. God-born mongrels with too much will and not enough sense.
I let out a snarl as I remember the dead bodies on my floor and the way Isla’s emotions slammed into me like a wrecking ball.The guilt!She wielded that feeling like the world’s most precise weapon. One that I’d never experienced until then.
Nobody was supposed to get hurt. At least notthathurt. Hell, they weren’t even supposed to be here. I’d alreadydecided not to involve them even though I knew the alpha blood would give us the advantage.
But then they had to need me. Had to send word for my help.
Really, they’re the ones who should feel guilty. Not me.
I merely took advantage of the opportunity they dropped right into my lap.
Each summer solstice, we indulge in a week of divine sport. A time for us to start friendly-ishwars within our factions, flexing our power while bending realms to our whims. This year was the tenth in a row that I intended to win.
And thanks to Theo and Estee’s melodramatic, star-crossed-lovers act, I almost lost.
Almost.
The golden trophy now sits smugly on my mantle, glinting in the firelight, mocking me. I should be celebrating. I should be wrapped in silk and wine, surrounded by the gods who helped me claim my victory, getting drunk as well as laid—not necessarily in that order.
But instead, I’m pacing.
Alone.
Thinking aboutthem.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I’m not supposed to care. Those fleabags were a joke gift from my father—living toys made to irk my brother, nothing more. I raised them into something remarkable, yes, but only because it amused me. They were never supposed to matter.
And yet…
They do.
Somewhere along the line, the toy became a cause. Their stubborn hope, their flawed bravery, their endless fucking loyalty wormed its way into me. And now I feel it. Thisstrange, gnawing ache in my chest that doesn’t belong to a goddess who’s supposed to be untouchable.
Gods, how did I get here?
Laughter rolls toward me from below, carried by the wind from the after-party still raging in the clouds. I should go. Icouldgo. I should wrap myself in pleasure and pretense, act as though Lunara never existed, never mattered, never burrowed its way under my skin.
But I stay.
Still waiting for Elyn to return.
She’s no longer a wolf. No longer just a healer. She’s something more now—somethingmine. A demi-god, crafted by my hands, blessed with my blood, imbued with just enough divine fire to ensure she outlives the world she was born into.
She’s perfect, efficient, and most importantly, she gives a damn in ways Ishouldn’t.
That’s why she’s their liaison now. The wolves’ divine connection, their thread to me and my realm, it’s all on Elyn. And maybe, just maybe, giving her that title will buy me back the distance I desperately need.
Maybe if I don’t look too closely, I can go back to the way things were. Cold. Unbothered. Free.
