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A sharp sound sliced from behind as the god manifested in the corner of the room. His presence fanned ebony tufts of smoke, like rays of glimmering dark sunlight seeping out of a cup and across the floor. The air thickened with his aura, straining the breath in Naia’s lungs.

The god rested his back against a bookshelf, arms crossed. Naia pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth to maintain a neutral expression.

Cassian wore a tailored suit, the crisp, clean material emphasizing his masculine figure. His features, sharp and precise, were as if the universe took its time carving him. Shrouded by the shadows of the room, his alabaster complexion and pale blonde strands gleamed.

He was one of the most beautiful men she’d ever seen. All the High Gods and Goddesses were. The more mortals that worshiped them, the more powerful they were. And of the High Deities, Cassian was among those who had held their titles the longest. Middle deities rarely tried dueling him to take his place. Cassian had never lost. For five thousand years, he held the title of the High God of Death and Curses.

The first and sole High God of his lineage.

Naia bowed her chin out of respect. “I appreciate your time, Lord Cassian.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be preparing for your wedding, Little Goddess?” He didn’t so much as look her way as he spoke.

“That is why I have summoned you.”

He propped the back of his head against the shelf of the bookcase, giving prominence to the curvature of his throat. “What do you want?”

The curse binding her to Kaimana was the first obstacle to getting out of her arranged marriage. She couldn’t run away if she had nowhere to run to.

When she failed to respond right away, his gaze cut to her. Goosebumps prickled down her neck in response as she took in the depth of his eyes—two bottomless golden trenches capable of devouring her.

She clamped her fear by squaring her jaw. “I want to leave this place before my wedding.”

Cassian glanced down at his watch. “In precisely forty-eight minutes?”

“Yes.”

“Do what you want,” he said. “Who’s stopping you?”

Naia did not enjoy playing games, and the god toyed with her.

“I am stuck here.” As if he did not know. “You are the one who cursed me.”

He pushed off the wall to face her and straightened his already symmetrical tie. “I cursed you centuries ago, and this is the best you’ve come up with. Begging me less than an hour before your atrocious wedding to let you out of it?”

Shame burned her face. “Your curses don’t exactly come with a manual on how to break them, and my prayers to the High Goddess of Fate haven’t done me much good.”

Cassian slid his hands into the front pockets of his pressed trousers. “Then perhaps you need to try praying to a different god.”

“Lord Cassian, please. Tell me what I need to do for you to?—”

“The only way to untangle yourself from one of my curses without breaking it is to agree to a far worse one, Little Goddess. You know the rules.”

Everything came at a price.

Fatigue tugged at Naia’s muscles. Pulses of a whale call moaned through the walls, and she hung her head back to peer out of the skylight at the sea’s lucid waters engulfing Kaimana. The tranquil white noise of waves breaking and the distant clicking of sea creatures were like a lullaby.

Gods, how she wished her life had been different; to have a mother who had never put her in this situation to begin with.

A battered yearning for affection that had long dried in her soul resurfaced. One she gave up on seeking to quench its thirst long ago.

The god before her was her only hope now.

Naia dropped her head to look at him. “Very well.”

Cassian’s head tilted slightly, his attention sharpening. “Your new curse won’t be immediate. It will activate when the time is right.”

Absolutely not. Do not be stupid, Naia.