Page 114 of For the Love of the Gods

I could feel Io at my back, his bony hand creeping over my shoulder to press into my chest while his other hand held a knife, curved and shaped like a scythe, to my throat.

Oldasshole.

“And here I thought you lived to serve me, Io,” I said, speaking softly so that the knife wouldn’t cut into my skin any more than it already was. I couldn’t feel any blood yet, but any harder and it would start streaming down my neck.

“You would be wrong,” Io snapped into my ear. “We are not sheep, who follow along mindlessly with whatever you gods decide to do. You’re out of touch.”

“So, I’m supposed to listen to you? A group clearly in touch with reason, who storms my temple and presses knives to my throat?” Whoever thatgroupwas needed to be dealt with, now. Spinning out of control wasn’t an option.

“You gods have no consequences for your actions,” Io sneered. I caught Max’s eye and silently pleaded for them to keep their expression scared. Not to drop their fear. I did the same with Raiden.

I laughed bitterly. “And is this my consequence? You know what will happen if you kill me.” Dominic and I hadn’t picked an heir, and that required both of our assent.

“The Underworld will crumble, or so you say. How do we know you aren’t lying?”

“Why don’t you find out?” I asked, goading Io’s anger. His chest heaved and he pulled back on the pressure at my throat slightly, but I needed a little more room. “Kill me and enjoy your soul floating into a black abyss of nothing when you die.”

Io breathed in, rage and irritation pressing his stomach into my back and pushing his hand a little farther from my throat.

I moved before I could weigh the odds, twisting out of his grip. Io recovered quickly, I’d give him that.

He swiped the knife down. I barely felt the hot lance down my forearm as the blade cut my skin, not when I conjured another Shadowwalker right behind him and commanded it to reach into Io’s chest and crush his heart.

Io dropped to the floor in a heap, his death immediate. It was mercy compared to what was in store for him otherwise.

A splash of my blood hit the floor a second after Io’s body did, sending a sick plop echoing through the deathly silent temple.

I turned my arm inward, pressing it against my dress to stop the flow of blood. It would heal in a moment anyway. Sparing Io one more glance, I spun to face Raiden, Max, and Marcus who all looked like that were waiting for permission to approach me.

I looked past them, to the trail of unconscious and dead bodies they left behind. I hoped the ones my Shadowwalkers turned down had enough life force to keep them on the side of the living. I took a numb step forward, then looked at one of the Shadows floating in the corner.

I stared at it, the figure familiar. It was half a foot taller than me, broad, with strong arms and steady legs. The nose was defined, straight on the bridge but a little on the larger side. I could almost picture the mouth built for smirking and the deep brown eyes, so able to switch between hard black and softer brown.

It was Dominic, I realized with a numb chuckle. Somewhere along the line, my Shadowwalkers had changed shape.

It was that realization that broke the shocked wall that had been caging in my emotions and my fear from the attack. I heaved in a breath, my chest and throat growing tight, my vision going blurry.

“Please,” I rasped out, to no one in particular.

“Please, what, Rose?” someone asked. Someone else, or maybe the same person, touched a comforting hand to my shoulder. Another hand gently peeled my arm away from my bloody dress, checking the wound.

“Dominic,” I scraped out, then broke down with sobs. My knees gave out and I dropped to the floor, someone catching me as I went down while two others ran out the door.

Chapter 30

Dominic

My anger still wasn’t under control. It was prowling under my skin about to break through the surface of the water and take out everything in its path.

The only coherent thought I’d been able to put together yesterday morning in the kitchen was: someone hurt my wife.

I didn’t want to leave Rose after fighting with her. What was once something that lit my blood on fire now sent it running cold.

I took myself out of that situation because if I had to listen to Rose putting Lucan’s life before her own one more time I was going to lose it. Didn’t she understand thatshewas the one who was irreplaceable? Essential to my life and everyone else’s?

The cherry on top of that shit fucking day was finding her in her bed instead ofourslike she thought us getting in a singular argument meant I was done with her. I would never be done with her. Carrying her back to our room and seeing her in our bed almost,almost, was enough to quell my anger and my fear.

But I woke up this morning pissed again. Because I dreamt—for the first time in fucking years—that it wasn’t just poisoned herbs, it was a knife to the throat and I had to find Rose covered in blood and dead in our bed.

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