Page 60 of A Reign of Malice
I may not know everything about him yet. I might not yet be in love with the man he is today, but I would die for him without hesitation. And I know, with bone-deep certainty, that he would do the same for me.
That’s the magic of being a wolf shifter. We don’t weave spells like witches or bend shadows like vampires, but we have something far rarer. We have our bonds. That unbreakable thread tying one soul to another, strong enough to weather centuries of separation, torture, even death itself. And standing here, I know I wouldn’t trade that magic for anything across all the realms.
Especially when he glances down at me, the corner of his mouth lifting in the faintest smile—soft and a little amazed, like he can’t believe I’m real either. My heart stutters painfully, skipping against my ribs, and the world around us fades just for a moment.
This. This is where I was always meant to end up.
Finally.
The momentary peace is broken when Aurora pulls us from existence without warning, the world disappearing for a brief second before we reappear in another part of the god realm. This one is nothing like the clouded expanse we arrived at. The landscape shifts with each step, the ground firm beneath our feet but ever-changing in texture and color.Sometimes grass, sometimes smooth crystal, and other times soft sand. The sky above is endless, not blue but a deep indigo threaded with silver veins that pulse like a heartbeat. Floating islands hover in the distance, each one linked by shimmering bridges made of pure light.
On those islands, figures wait.
The gods.
They’re not what I expect. Some have eyes that flicker like flames and skin that shimmers beneath the brightness of their world. Others appear more human-like, except they’re draped in fabrics that seem woven from the stars themselves, their stares too colorful, their features too perfect to belong to anything mortal.
Aurora leads us to a central platform, where a towering god with sleek opal hair and skin like polished obsidian waits. His presence hums in the air, powerful enough that my wolf instinctively bows her head within me.
“This is Damaris,” Aurora purrs, placing a hand on his shoulder. “One of you will bite him first.”
The god’s silver eyes flick toward Julian, his gaze heavy with curiosity and something darker. “This is the lost prince?”
Julian doesn’t flinch under his scrutiny, his jaw tight. “I am.”
Damaris steps closer, offering his arm. “I choose you and your mate.”
Julian’s nostrils flare, but he doesn’t argue, and I breathe easier knowing we don’t have to be so intimate with them, biting their necks as Aurora seemed to have Asher do when he was here last time.
“And I’ll draw your blood,” Aurora says coolly. “I can take all of it now, or a little at a time. I’ll leave that up to you.”
My laughter is dark and rough. “Nowwe get a choice?”
“Technically, you had one before.” The goddess pulls a silver blade from thin air, inspecting my arm.
“Die or obey,” I remind her, watching closely as she cuts my wrist. “I understand we owe you, and I appreciate that you freed Julian when I couldn’t, but you don’t have to taunt Isla like you do or be so crude.”
Aurora’s violet eyes level on me, her smirk firmly in place. “No, I don’t have to, but it sure keeps things more interesting, don’t you think?”
This conversation is pointless, so I fix my attention on Julian just as his teeth cut through Damaris’s forearm. The god trembles, closing his eyes, and his skin begins to shimmer. When he looks at Julian again, his gaze is golden with fine lines of silver bleeding through, his expression otherworldly.
“Such interesting power,” Damaris murmurs as Julian straightens again.
Before I can ask what happens next, Aurora places a cloth over my wrist and steps away from me, a bowl of my blood in her hand. “Drink. One sip is all you need.”
The god doesn’t hesitate; he laps at the crimson, and Aurora is forced to yank the bowl from his hands. “Careful, Damaris.”
As he drags a finger over his parted lips, his teeth lengthen then claws slide from his fingertips. His entire form seems to ripple, something more primal waking inside him. Almost as if he’s preparing to shift, but the transformation is halted, keeping him more man than beast.
“Magnificent,” Damaris purrs, flexing his fingers. “The mate bond is truly unlike anything we could have predicted.”
Aurora’s smile is all sharp edges. “I told you.” Then she glances at the others, further away and still perched on their islands. “Who’s next?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
SLOANE
The process moves faster than I expect, a rhythmic cycle of blood and teeth, of the gods teleporting in, receiving our energy, and stepping back with newfound power crackling through their veins. Some of them stay to watch, most of them disappear quickly, and a few even try to demand more than their share. Thankfully, Aurora surprises us all when she shuts that down quickly.
