Page 51 of For the Love of the Gods

At least I could give them all this, a morning that was supposed to be filled with friends and stories of drunken escapades and good food. I held onto that hope for the rest of breakfast, even forcing a smile to my face to tell a story about how Lukas was responsible for my fear of the deep ocean.

I’d promised to go diving with him—and Daphne, but I left her name out—and in a little prank planned by his cousin, Lukas had snuck off, transformed into a sea dragon, and started chomping at me while he chased me through the water.

I thought I’d gotten Dominic to laugh, noticing his body started moving out of my peripheral vision, but he was only getting up to take his plate to the sink. He did all of the dishes, actually, saving me from the cleanup I normally did myself or delegated.

I wanted to talk to him, to try to explain what had happened, but when everyone took their chance to leave and hugged me goodbye, I turned around to find myself alone in the kitchen. Lovely.

The day was fucked regardless. The Council meeting was tomorrow, which was good, given today wasn’t just a day for pancakes, but a day for repenting.

A day for the Fates.

I always gave myself the morning to enjoy before I found my way to them in the afternoon. Today was no different. I cleaned up the one pan Dominic didn’t get to, and forced myself to go through the motions of getting ready.

My skin still felt raw, even though there was no physical trace of the burns remaining, and I was unsteady. I felt like I hadn’t regained my footing since the second my ass had hit the back of that couch last night.

Today, I had a feeling it was going to be a doozy of a task, so I opted for loose black technical pants and a tight black tank top. I tied my hair up into a ponytail and faced myself in the mirror. I looked tired and the sheen in my eyes looked more pronounced. Daphne used to always tell me that I’d suck at poker, you could see everything in my eyes.

Especially pain, but that was present more often than not.

I fixed up my makeup a bit, brushed through my ponytail, and did a quick check of my outfit. In the cut of the top and with my hair pulled back, you could see a few of my tattoos. I had one on the back of my neck and one on my right shoulder blade, both done by Lia Vulcan. She’d done all of my tattoos, actually. I hadn’t seen her in a while, and I made a mental note to invite her out for drinks soon.

I knew she was friends with Dominic, maybe he’d make an appearance. If he ever decided to speak to me again, that is.

When I found the Fates, Lachesis was asleep in her chair and Atropos was deeply invested in spinning a new Fate line. Clotho was the one who met my eyes first.

“Hello, Clotho, how are you?” I greeted and was meant with a sharp silence. I could hear water dripping down the stone walls and plopping onto the floor.

I looked her straight in her soulless eyes and asked, “Will you exchange my soul for my brothers?”

If she was capable of emotion, it was pity. “You know the answer to that.”

“Indulge me,” I said, lifting a shoulder.

“No.”

Shocker. But that answer hadn’t deterred me yet.

“Well, since I’m already down here, anything I can help with?”

“Yes,” Clotho said quickly, they never were ones to turn down help. “There is a man in the Upperworld who keeps escaping our reach. He—”

“No.” The world left my mouth before I could stop it.

Clotho balked at my boldness. No one interrupted the Fates and lived to tell the tale. “Would you like us to finish?”

“Are you asking me to bring him to you? So that you can finally cut his Thread?”

“Yes.”

I sucked in a sharp breath and silently prayed I was misunderstanding them. “Why would I do that?”

“We get what we want, this is just expediting the process. He will come to us eventually, we are just requesting you place him on that path sooner.”

I balled my fists and stared Clotho right in her withering, gray face. “You are asking me to kill him.”

Clotho shrugged, like this was the most natural conversation in the world. “Call it what you want. If you don’t, we will find someone or something who will.”

“My answer is no.” I wanted to force the word yes to my lips so badly. But I had sworn I wouldn’t kill again years ago, even if someone killed me for it. I would never harm another person in that way again. No matter how disconnected their life was to mine, no matter who told me they deserved it or if I agreed, no one else would die by my hand.

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