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"Osythe lives with her lover in Draknavor now," Dorna finished. "Their son ascended in the last Trials—Xül, Warden of the Damned. And every day, Morthus proves that even gods can choose love over law, compassion over command–”
I was Thais Morvaren, wielder of stars, and I had come here to learn how to kill a god. If the Prince thought he could ignore me, he was about to learn exactly how wrong he was.
Thatcher possessed Primordial power. And Xül knew. And I had no idea what he planned to do with that knowledge, or what it would mean for us.
He stood in a fluid motion, power rolling off him in waves. "You forget yourself. You forget who I am." "No." I met his gaze steadily. "I see exactly who you are. Your perfect mask doesn't fool me because I've worn one my entire life. I know every crack, every seam where the truth bleeds through." "I am death itself," he hissed, his face inches from mine.
"You grabbed my ass," I accused, narrowing my eyes. "I prefer to think of it as strategic placement." He let out a laugh. "Though I won't deny enjoying the process."
His gaze narrowed. "Such a fascinating contradiction. The killer who melts when someone shows her exactly how powerless she can be."
Her smile was radiant but calculated. “And your father showed exceptional grace in allowing Xül to ascend at all, especially after Morthus’s... disappointing choices.” She turned to address the table, her voice taking on a reverent quality. “Our king truly embodies restraint.” I bit the inside of my cheek. The word “restraint” applied to Olinthar made my chest twist—a complex knot of grief, rage, and the terrible knowledge of what he truly was.
“She can wield the stars?” Nyxis asked, delight crossing her features. “No wonder you chose her.” She leaned across the counter toward me, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “He used to watch the sky for hours as a child, you know. Even in a domain like this, he always loved the stars.”
“Morthus and I swore the Sev’anarath,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “What is that exactly?” “It’s ancient—older than the Twelve themselves,” she explained. “A ritual that binds two souls together across time, distance, even the barriers between life and death.” Her hand absently moved to rest over her heart. “We become... extensions of each other. I feel his pain, his joy. He feels mine.”
His eyes lingered, taking in the way the thin fabric clung to my body. A muscle in his jaw tightened. "This is..." he began, his voice dropping lower, "dangerous territory, starling. I'm not in the right state of mind to see you like this—with nothing but that flimsy excuse for clothing between you and the night."
"You want to know what I am?" His voice dropped to a whisper that caressed my every nerve ending. "I'm a man who's been hard for you since the moment I laid eyes on you. I'm a man who's spent every night since then stroking myself to thoughts of you." A tremor stole my breath as fire curled low and deep. "I'm a man who dreams about having you spread out beneath me, begging me to fill you, to claim you, to make you mine in every filthy way I can imagine." His eyes burned into mine. "So tell me—do you still think I'm hiding from what I want?"
"But I will watch you touch yourself," he whispered, his lips a breath away from my ear. He stepped back just enough to give me space, his eyes never leaving mine. "Right here, on my desk." My heart hammered in my chest. This was madness—pure, delicious madness. But the hunger in his eyes, the way he looked at me made me want to be reckless.
“That’s not the only problem, Thais. I don’t just want your body. I want all of you. Every single piece. If we go there, it will ruin me for the rest of my life.”
"Now," he said, his voice a dark promise that made me shiver with anticipation. “Are you ready for me to ruin this perfect body until you're addicted to the way I make you feel?”
"I'd want to devour you whole." "Maybe I want to be devoured," I said. His eyes darkened further. "Careful what you wish for, starling."
"What are you—" I began, but my words cut off as the first of the ghostly hands wrapped around my wrist, its touch cool but solid as it held me in place. "Insurance," Xül murmured, satisfaction evident in his tone as more of the hands materialized, some moving to my other wrist, some sliding along my sides, others tracing patterns across my back. "My own personal army," he murmured, breaking through my thoughts, watching as one of the spectral hands traced the curve of my hip. "Ready to hold you down while I have my way with you."
"Look at you," he growled, his voice strained. "Do you know what you look like right now, starling? When you’re taking my cock so well?" His hand came down on my ass with a sharp crack that sent shock waves through me. Another moan I couldn’t suppress. “You look like you’re mine.”
"Say it," he demanded. "Say you're mine." "Yours," I gasped. The last of my resistance crumbled. Not conquered, but willingly demolished.
"That I went too far. That I was too rough." A muscle ticked in his jaw. "That I revealed too much of me." "And what are you, truly?" I asked. Now his eyes did meet mine, vulnerability laid bare in their depths. "Selfish. Possessive."
This had all started with me on my knees at the Proving, begging them to spare Thatcher. If it ended the same way—with me pleading for his life while mine hung in the balance—so be it.
“You don’t understand.” He cut me off. “I love you, starling. I’m in love with you.”
“You’re not the only one of us with a hypocrite as a father. Mine chose love over duty—nearly sent the entire realm crashing down around him.” Xül inhaled, moving closer. “And I’ll be damned for eternity if I’m not willing to do the same. I’d burn Voldaris to the ground for you.”
I’m done doing what everyone else requires of me. Done. I’m choosing me now. And I’m choosing you. Tell me that you want this too," he murmured against my neck, his hands already working at the fastenings of my dress. "That you’ll be mine."
"You’re the only thing I’ll ever want," he confessed between kisses. “I’ll be yours for as long as you want me, Thais. Eternity is a long time, and I know I’m asking a lot of you. And that there’s a chance that you’ll change your mind, a year from now—a thousand years from now.” He paused, looking directly into my eyes. “But when that day comes, my heart will stop. It will only ever beat for you, Thais." “I’m yours, already, Xül.” I murmured. “I have been for a while.”
Sel dravira en ti. Niv valen, niv asra, niv loyeth. El atanen en ti. Vah serané.
"And I await the pleasure of calling you a goddess."
Chavore's gaze drifted over me, his brow furrowing. "You're..." He trailed off, blinking rapidly as if trying to clear his vision. "Thatcher's sister, yes?" A chill slithered down my spine. Elysia smiled. "Her name is Thais, darling," she prompted, her fingers tightening on his arm.
Olinthar's smile widened, and the satisfaction in his eyes made bile rise in my throat. "How... interesting," he said. "The twins united in Sundralis. How honored our domain should feel. I accept your service, Thais Morvaren."
“You’re not Olinthar.” The wretchedly handsome face smiled. "This body belongs to him, true. But I rarely let him out to play." He tapped his temple with one finger. "You're..." "Moros, child." The name fell from lips that weren't truly his. "The Primordial of Endings. Vivros thought he destroyed me, but it was only my form he ripped from existence."
"Then I'll gladly be a fool." I looked down at her vacant eyes, at the woman who'd never know the bond I’d carved into my skin to make sure she’d always be safe—so that I could always find her. She’d never know that my soul was tied to hers. That my heart bled for her, more and more every passing day. This was the price of her survival. And I'd pay it a thousand times over, even if it meant watching her from afar for eternity, belonging to another while she lived and breathed and maybe, someday, smiled again.
The greater good, written in necessary sins. A new king rising from the ashes of the old. And I sat there wondering if we'd simply traded one tyrant for a cleverer one. If Morthus had saved me or just found me a prettier cage.
"The ceremony ended an hour ago." His footsteps crunched on the gravel as he moved closer. Each step careful, like he was walking on glass. "And you're here." There was a long pause. When he spoke again, his voice was rough. "I couldn't stay there. Couldn't pretend when I could feel—" he cut himself off. "You should go back. Your wife will wonder where you've gone."
"My heart will only ever beat for you." The words came out rough, edged with darkness. "You own me completely. You always will."
"I mean that in thirty-six years, for exactly seven seconds, a thread that shouldn't exist anymore will spark back into my sight."
For the first time since Thatcher fell, I felt my lips twitch, corners threatening to tug upwards. The Abyss had taken half my soul. In thirty-six years, for seven seconds, I'd have my chance to take it back. And I would be ready.
"Wondering why I haven't taken over that body of yours yet?" Moros's voice oozed through the void. "The rules are... different here." I felt his frustration ripple. "How considerate of you to trap us both where I cannot fully claim you." The realization bloomed in my chest, a small flame of triumph.
"You’ll find a way to claw yourself out of here, boy," he said, voice suddenly tight with anticipation. "And then you will find her. The girl with opalescent eyes and hair spun of moonlight. You will bring her to me. And through you, I shall touch the world again."

