Page 278 of The Ascended
"Xül." The name dripped with disdain. "The death prince playing at rebellion. It's rather endearing, really. Yet there are far bigger threats that no one seems to understand. The Gods and mortals alike share that small-mindedness, unable to see past their own ambitions to recognize what truly lurks in their glittering Voldaris."
"Stop speaking in riddles and tell me who you are!"
Slowly, deliberately, the figure reached up and pulled back his hood.
The world tilted.
Olinthar. My father. The King of Gods stood before me, golden eyes gleaming.
"You look so much like your mother," he said, tilting his head as he studied me. "Both of you do."
"Don't you fucking dare speak of her." Rage burned through mehotter than any star. "If you hurt Thatcher, I swear on everything divine I will shred you from the inside out."
"She was stubborn too. A fighter." Olinthar stepped away from Thatcher, moving toward me with predatory grace. "Usually, they end up enjoying themselves. But not her. She hated every moment."
Pain lanced through my chest as I struggled harder against the bonds. I felt power building inside me, burning hotter with each step he took. But I didn't release it. Not yet. I let it build.
Another step closer.
"He did always have a proclivity for mortal women," Olinthar mused. "Such base desires were beneath me, of course. But he was always easier to manage when I allowed him his vices."
My heart plummeted. "What are you talking about?"
"It was tedious at first," he continued, as if I hadn't spoken. "Allowing him such freedoms. But then an idea sparked, and I decided that something valuable might come from all these dalliances."
He stood directly in front of me now, close enough that I could see the unnatural stillness in his eyes. I kept struggling, kept letting my power build until my skin felt like it might split from the pressure.
"I killed most of them before they could reach term," he said conversationally. "Couldn't have the mortal realm overrun with half-blood children. But I felt something different in her. A part of me that had slipped into the union."
"What do you mean, you?" My voice cracked. "Do you only speak in fucking riddles?"
"A Primordial seed found its way into the womb," he explained patiently, as if teaching a slow child.
He leaned down, dragging one finger across my cheek. The touch burned like acid.
"Your brother shares the power ofmybrother," he whispered.
I tried to jerk away from his touch, but the bonds heldfirm. His hand caught my chin, forcing me to look directly into his golden eyes.
And then I watched them change.
The gold bled away like paint washing off canvas, replaced by silver so bright it hurt to look at.
My breath caught. My heart seemed to stop entirely.
“You’re not Olinthar.”
The wretchedly handsome face smiled. "This body belongs to him, true. But I rarely let him out to play." He tapped his temple with one finger.
"You're..."
"Moros, child." The name fell from lips that weren't truly his. "The Primordial of Endings. Vivros thought he destroyed me, but it was only my form he ripped from existence."
"When the priests came to Saltcrest," I said, stalling while I gathered my strength for another attempt at breaking free. "They were searching for us."
"For him," Moros corrected, nodding toward Thatcher. "You were merely an unfortunate complication."
When Olinthar's face twisted into a smile, I saw my chance. I released a fraction of the power I'd been building, slamming a sphere of pure light into his chest.
