Page 104 of Godsbane
Time passes in a blur—seconds, minutes, or hours, I can’t tell the difference anymore. Nothing matters without her here.
I love you.
The very words she refused to let me say are the last she spoke. Her final breath was meant for me. She fought us from the beginning because she thought she had to do this alone. And for some gods-unknown reason, she thought she wasn’t capable of giving me what I wanted.
But all I ever wanted was her. Whatever fractions or bits she deemed me worthy of, I took them greedily. I was always left hungry, always wanting more of her. I could spend every year of eternity with her and it still wouldn’t be enough.
The closer we got to the end, the more she withdrew into herself, the more I could feel that she wanted this, that she wanted me. When it came down to it, she gave me the one gift that meant the most to her. She chose me.
And I will spend every second of my immortal existence proving that she didn’t make a mistake. ThatI’mnot a mistake.
I don’t need a throne or worshippers or even a god-family. She is all that I need. Everything that my soul aches for. She is everything to me. She ishome.
“It’s time to go now, brother.” I turn my head to find Henry squatting beside me in the pool of our blood. “Let me help you.”
He doesn’t wait for me to reply before he wraps his arms around my middle and pulls me off of her. My entire body cries out in agony at both the loss of her touch and the pulling strain on my shredded skin. I can’t leave her.
“Ivy!” I call out for her as Henry wraps my arm over his neck to support my weight.
“We’ve got her. We won’t let anything happen to her, okay?”
His face is stoic, but his eyes give him away; they always have. Sorrow wells in them as he blinks away the tear that he would deny forms in its corner.
“This way!” another familiar voice commands.
Theo bursts through the throne room doors, two physicians following on his heels. The robed men stop and share a concerned look at the sight of my mutilated body, but their attention is misplaced.
“She’s alive. Help her,” I plead.
“But Captain, you need care,” one protests.
“Help Governor Fellows first. That’s an order,” Henry bellows. His voice cuts through the commotion, causing every soldier in the room to snap to attention.
My eldest brother is a natural born leader. His skills on and off the battlefield should have been rewarded with the titleof captain. And if the Lord General hadn’t been a god with a vendetta, they would have been. I never wanted it. I only ever wanted her.
The room is a blur of motion as every available hand rushes to Ivy’s side. Black spots form at the edge of my vision. I don’t have long.
“Take me to my mother’s altar.”
There’s a temple just off the gardens in the Western Courtyard with a marble statue of Arcasia. It’s one of the few in Corinth. Every time Marks summoned me to the palace before a mission, I left something for her in exchange for her gift of protection. And I have one final ask of her before I leave this world.
“You will see a healer first.” I lift my head from Henry’s shoulder to argue with him, but it’s futile. “That’s an order, Captain.”
“I have nothing left to give but my life. Let me barter it for hers.”
Henry kicks open a wooden door to a bedchamber where two robed physicians wait.
“No one dies today. Do you hear me, Callan?” The tear he tried so hard to hold in slips between his lashes and trails down his dirty cheek, desperation etched into his brown eyes. “No one.”
The physicians herd us toward the bed, their assistants running to gather hot water, bandages, and needles. They survey me from head to toe, cataloging every cut. They clean the wounds excruciatingly slowly. Too fucking slowly.
I have to get back to her.
Impatiently, I rip the cloth from the assistant’s trembling hold. Before I can attempt to stand, a large hand forces me to lay back on the bed.
“Prepare a calming tonic for him,” Henry orders.
“Power is going to your head already, Lord General,” I bite out with an exasperated huff.
