How earnest she appeared. How broken she sounded. Something cracked inside his chest, acid leaking out, spilling into his veins. He’d followed this female for months, yet he’d never witnessed anything like this, every ounce of her confidence stripped away. The demon—
Comprehension dawned, and he narrowed his eyes. The demon. Narcissism did this—with my help. The punishment she’d mentioned.
Great adoration equaled great self-love. Great disdain after great adoration meant greater self-hatred. No wonder she sought to prevent this, whatever lines she must cross. Who could endure it?
The acid scorched layer upon layer of his fury, leaving only raw instinct. He acted without thought. Nuzzling his scruffy cheek against her damp one, he said, “I think you are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever beheld. I have craved you since the moment I first spied you.”
She went still. “You have?” Her nose wrinkled, her brows drawing together. She opened and closed her mouth as if not sure how to reply.
Different emotions flared in her incredible eyes. Misery gave way to surprise, then uncertainty, which gradually dulled, revealing assurance.
“Brochan, that’s just so…shallow of you. I, at least, notice a person’s intelligence first.” She canted her head, pensive. “Although, I suppose I’ll have to forgive you. Because I have such a gracious heart and all. The most gracious!”
Relief poured through him, and he gripped her tighter. Gut-wrenching tension eased. Her confidence had returned, and he prayed it never faded again.
He had some thinking to do, he realized. Some new decisions to make.
“Oh, goodness.” With a tinkling laugh, she dabbed at her rosy skin. “I’m so glad I’m a pretty crier.”
“The prettiest,” they said in unison, and she lifted her chin higher.
“Let’s return to your story about first spying me.” She settled comfortably into the cradle of his arms, nestling against him. “Tell me every thought you entertained about my every feature. Start with my silken hair and hypnotizing eyes. Leave nothing out.”
“I will not.” He jumped and flapped his wings, catching a current of air. They soared through the sky, heading toward the plethora of suns currently setting in the distance.
“I promise not to laugh at you more than a little.”
“Now you try my patience.”
Locks of pale hair whipped over his face as she snuggled closer. “You’re so obsessed with me. On a scale of one to ten, you rate me a twelve.”
“And you rate me a zero.”
“Hardly. I give you at least two points for your good taste in goddesses.”
He pursed his lips. “I was in the bar the day you met McCadden. You walked right past me.”
“Did you have these horns back then?” She made a playful scratching motion. “Because meow.”
Had he been walking rather than flying, he might have stumbled; her words knocked him for a loop. “You like my horns?” After a reluctant pause, he added, “They aren’t too beastly?”
Leering at him, she licked her upper lip. “They’re just the right amount.”
His heart stuttered, his body once again at war with his mind. He fought the surge of desire to the best of his ability, resolved to resist her—for now. First he needed to digest everything he’d learned about this woman. He must determine whether she’d spoken true or lied about McCadden’s near-death, and how he felt about it, whatever the answer. At the very least, Viola wasn’t the merciless seductress he’d once considered her. Mostly, he should figure out how to proceed with her. Did he owe her any kind of punishment? Thanks? He didn’t know anything anymore.
The palace appeared on the horizon. He propelled his mind in a different direction. “Now that we’ve called a temporary truce and agreed to a partnership, we should devise our plan of attack against the other Forsaken.”
“No worries. I’ve already worked up the perfect scheme. I considered doing it to you when you cuffed me at the beach.” She petted his chest. “Check it. I’m the goddess of the Afterlife, right? I’m able to remove more than a lifeforce. I can reach inside anyone and pluck out their spiritual heart, the container of the lifeforce. Neither a body nor a spirit can exist without it. I’ll be honest, though. I’ve never tried it on a deathless being, because I’ve never faced a deathless being.”
He blinked at her creativity. Knowing she could have attempted this on him but hadn’t… She truly isn’t the monster I thought her to be. He had much more to consider than he’d realized.
“We’ll try it,” he said, surprising himself. He—A shadow shifted inside the palace, near a window in the throne room.
Someone moved about inside? One of the Forsaken? Did others lurk throughout the palace, waiting for an opportunity to strike? Fury sparked.
“We have company,” he informed Viola. “When I flash you on the balcony, stay there. Do you understand? Hide in a corner until I return to collect you.”
“You’re planning an attack? While I’m wearing my cuff?” Panicked, she wiggled and scrambled until she was able to wrap her legs around his waist and put her face directly in front of his. “The invader might not mean us any harm. Or you’re mistaken about seeing someone. Or any other excuse you’ll believe. Let’s take a moment to investigate before we strike at someone we shouldn’t strike at. Okay?”
Why act this way? Did she know something he didn’t? Suspicions prodded him. Closing in… “Do as I command, goddess.”
“Listen to me,” she said, her panic intensifying. “If there’s danger, you need to remove my cuff. If there’s no danger, you could inadvertently attack your closest friends.”
“I have no friends.”
“You wouldn’t want to accidentally harm an innocent, would you?” She clasped his chin, doing her best to catch his gaze as he angled his body, preparing to flash. “Brochan—”
He flashed to the balcony.
“I demand you stay with me!” She sank her claws into his shoulders, ensuring he could not detangle from her. Hysteria and rage contorted her features.
Determined to protect her and not knowing what else to do, he forced a separation. Before she could latch on again, he dove, flashing through the doors, solidifying inside the throne room. His momentum continued from one side to the other, aggression charging him as he slammed into—
Shock inundated Brochan when the man’s identity clicked. He and McCadden tumbled across the floor, stopping at Farrow’s feet.
The visitors hadn’t changed clothes since the battle, both wearing garments splattered in the blood of the Forsaken. The only difference? Soot now smeared them.
“My apologies.” Brochan flapped his wings, rising and pulling his brother to his feet. Guilt engulfed him as he recalled what he’d been doing less than half an hour ago. “How did you find me? Has something else occurred?” Another attack?
Before his brother or Farrow had a chance to respond, Viola catapulted into the room. His eyes widened. She’d shifted into her other form. A kitten. He’d seen her shift only once, but it had happened at a distance. Someone had threatened her pet, and that someone had died screaming, shredded by her claws. Up close, Brochan picked up astonishing details he’d missed.