The Deer and the Dragon (No Other Gods #1)

by Piper C.J.

I’d heard similar stories where events were so shocking, so wonderful, so life-changing that they short-circuited the brain until it turned off completely. I supposed that that was what had happened to me, and I could only be grateful that my heart remembered to beat, my lungs remembered to breathe, my blood remembered to flow—at least, I hope it did.

I operated on autopilot out as my feet flew across the pavement, ears ringing, tears spiking my eyes until I crashed into his chest. Strong arms wrapped around me. Moss and rain and gin were as powerful as safety and longing and sorrow. My knees buckled beneath me as I began to cry, but he had me.

“I am yours, and you are mine. And whether it’s in this life or the next, we will always find each other.”

I’d never wanted anything so badly in my life. My body was hot and cold all at once. My fingers tore at him, digging into him as if, perhaps if I could burrow into him, he’d be unable to leave.

He wasn’t just real. I was his, and he was mine.

“I’ve missed you more than air,” he breathed,

Even his kindness was sending me into a tailspin. I was so overcome with waves of conflicting emotions that I didn’t know what to do or how to feel. I didn’t want every memory he had of me to be me crying. I exhaled slowly as I asked, “Was I this stupid in all of my lives?”

“You’re brilliant. You’re as quick and clever in this life as you’ve been in all of them.”

“If you wouldn’t burn the world to the ground for the one you love, are you even in love?”

I’m not worth the goddamn apocalypse.” “I can promise you: you are.”

“I’d wait two thousand more, you know.”

Maybe I’d spent my life insisting that he was a perfect figment of my imagination, that I’d created a best friend, a guardian, a lover, a beautiful puzzle piece for the hole within me.

I used to say there was a special place in Hell for those who mistreated those who worked in service but was once again confronted with the turn of phrase. Perhaps I should start saying there was a special place on the bottom of the ocean, or in the Antarctic, or perhaps Ohio.

“No, that you understand the world around you so innately that you can put on whatever mask you need for whoever you meet. It takes incredible empathy, awareness, and psychology to do what you do, Love. You observe, adapt, and respond in the time it takes most to breathe. There are layers to your skill that can’t be taught, not to humans, not to demons or fae or anyone.”

His hand slipped through my hair to the back of my head. His tongue swept over mine, the hand on my knee slid up my leg, his body leaned as close to mine as the vehicle allowed. Something about the kiss cracked my heart. A knot formed in my throat, tears lining my eyes as I severed the passionate moment, breaking the kiss.

“I can’t wait to stand on the roof and talk to the birds,” I said to myself, “and sing them all of my favorite songs!” I saw the couple beside me halt as I pressed the button to close the door. “In fact, I think I’ll practice those songs now. Doe, a deer, a female deer…”

I felt like this might have been a pain he’d endured before. Perhaps not to this extent, but I recalled his father mentioning a cycle where he’d remained a fox for the entirety of my life. To love and be loved in return, to spend each lifetime making someone fall in love with you all over again, and to finally have her choose you back, only to have her life cut short…

I’d spent eighteen years in a physically and emotionally abusive household, rarely granted compassion. I’d rejected the only companionship that had been consistent in my life until it was too late. And when we had each other at long last, the first thing I’d done was fuck it up.

I wondered how much harder this was for him than I could ever realize. I tried to fathom lifetimes with a person, only to have a window of understanding after two thousand years. The moment the window had cracked open, it had been slammed shut. It was hard to believe a love like that could exist. It was even harder to believe I could be worthy of it.

I tumbled into his eyes, confident that he’d looked into mine a thousand times before, but never with the hope he held now.

And as the elevator began to pull us down, down, down, I couldn’t help but wish we really were going into the pits of Hell. At least Hell had good booze.

“I’ve got you,” she said while I shook. Her voice cut through the choking shadows as she whispered, “I know it’s dark. I know. But we’re going to be sunflowers.”

“What?” I almost gagged on the absurdity of the statement as I trembled in darkness, free-falling through the emptiness of oblivion. There was no hope, no warmth, no light as I shattered.

“Have you heard that sunflowers turn to face each other when there’s no sun in the sky?”

“It’s not true,” she said quietly. “It’s something cute, something made up, something people tell themselves about flowers to feel nice…but Marlow, right now there’s no sun. And everything about your life has felt like make-believe up until the moment it’s come true. So what if it’s a myth that sunflowers look to each other when there’s no sun in the sky? When has something being a myth ever stopped it from being real? Things feel hopeless right now, but they aren’t. I promise you. You and me.”

“Let’s be sunf...