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“If negotiations don’t work, I’ll put Soulender to her throat.”

Thane smiled behind his glass then held it up to Hel. “To battle.”

“To the god of war.”

Clink.

War drums thunderedwith the pounding of feet. Growls and cries for battle pierced the air. The pale ones were eager for this day. They’d been pent up in the Void for too long, and he promised them blood.

Blood they would have.

Pricilla’s army was at her walls, archers ready. A dragon clung to each turret waiting to take flight. The mauve trees scattered blossoms into the air, creating a rich aroma, but it wouldn’t cover the coming stench of death.

His pale ones already shouted for battle, their weapons raised high.

Hel sat on the back of Starborn at the front of his army. Mathekis waited beside him on a white horse with hooves the size of dinner plates and ebony armor cover its chest. “What are your orders, Lord?”

“We wait for Pricilla to meet with us.” The saddle creaked under Hel as he adjusted the left stirrup. “There is a rule in Runevale. A meeting must take place before any battle between gods in case an agreement can be reached to prevent the loss of life.”

“Would she give you the same right if we were still in Adalon, Lord?”

“We’re not in Adalon.” Truth was, he wanted to get her face-to-face to know if there were any other gods with her.

The gates opened and three riders on hippogriffs came out. Pricilla wore pink armor, and her hippogriff had a matching chest plate and helm. Everything in her territory had some shade of pink from fuchsia to salmon to a light blush. It was unsettling.

Hel nudged Starborn forward. Mathekis rode beside him, meeting them in the emptiness of the center field.

“Zaurahel.” Pricilla raised her chin and touched her nose as if he had a stench. Across Pricilla’s chest was a hot pink bow and on her back, a quiver of arrows. Her white corset with pink jewels and matching pants gave a false appearance of sweetness. Soft golden-brown curls tumbled in a half-up half-down style with little pops of baby’s breath weaved in. Overly bright pink blush stained her cheeks and lips. There was something about her face that reminded him of a ferret with a small, upturned nose and pinched lips.“I would say it’s good to see you, but, as always, it’s a displeasure.” Her voice was saccharine sweet and laced with poison.

“Likewise.” But it wasn’t Pricilla that had his attention now, it was Atlanta, god of the seas, primordial, and Katana’s ex-husband. Atlanta wore full battle armor, his blue trident glittered in the sun, each point a threat. The fierceness in his eyes made him more than just an ally, he was here for personal reasons.

Any time primordials were involved it was personal. As the most powerful of the gods, they otherwise stayed neutral.

“Your disgusting creatures don’t belong in my land. Remove them,” Pricilla said.

“Gladly, if you give me what I want. If not, I am looking forward to seeing how far this curse will travel. It takesonebite to turn. Half your army could be mine by the end of this battle.”

She waved a dismissive hand and giggled like a schoolgirl who’d just received flowers from her infatuation. “From what I hear it’s a curse exclusive to the elves.”

Hel smirked. “Are you absolutely certain of that?”

That stupid smile dropped, and her hawkish eyes narrowed. “So, you want your immortal strength back, is that it?” Pricilla sneered and petted the feathered neck of her hippogriff. The male to her left was Alehelm, god of vineyards. The golden helmet and armor with grapes and leaves etched into the metal was a giveaway. Perhaps the new member of the council to replace Rogue, or her lover. Either way he wasn’t a threat.

“I wouldn’t be here otherwise, wench.”

Alehelm snorted in disgust. “Don’t speak to the head of the council with such disrespect.”

Her hippogriff was upset too, fluffing its feathers and snapping its beak. With slow methodical strokes, she calmed the animal. “Relax,” she cooed. “His filthy words mean nothing.”

“What are you even doing here, Alehelm?” Hel tsked.

“He’s an ally.”

“Rogue’s replacement?”

She pursed her lips and scrutinized Hel from head to toe. “Rogue was an honorable god, and you, wicked savage, don’t deserve to even say his name. His wife was innocent.”

“So was mine.”