Page 43

Calysian strides toward the house, his long legs devouring the ground, his expression oddly resigned. When I step out to meet him, surprise flickers in his dark eyes.

He was expecting me to run.

We stare at each other in silence for a moment that seems to stretch on for years.

“You left me to die again.”

I give him a humorless smile. “And yet you’re still here.”

“I won’t leave you alone,” he vows, and I can hear the truth in his words. “I’ll continue to follow you for years, if that’s what it takes.”

“I’ll kill you.”

Calysian gives me a patronizing smirk and I grind my teeth, stalking toward my horse. He steps in front of me.

“Enough. I’ve been watching you closely. I’ve watched the way you bite down on the words you almost say. The way you open your mouth and then slam it closed. The way your eyes search me as if looking for something. You know who I am, Madinia Farrow. It’s why you continue to run. Why you won’t work with me. You will tell me.”

“Or what?”

He frowns. “Or what?”

“Threats need anor what. That’s why they’re threats.”

Frustration flickers across his face. “You understand what it is like to lose memories. To lose parts of yourself. And yet you are already finding yourself again. I have been this way for centuries, continually scheming and searching to findsomething. Now I know it’s a book. A book you have knowledge of. I know you weren’t the one who stole it from me. You’re far too young. Did someone in your family take it? An ancestor?”

I heave a sigh. At some point, Calysian is going to learn who he is. It seems inevitable at this point.

“Madinia?”

“I’m thinking.”

His dimple appears. “Then by all means, continue.”

It’s difficult for me to imagine this man turning truly evil. But I can’t ignore the life I’ve lived, and the men I’ve known.

When given a chance to conquer and enslave, most men will take it and indulge their vices.

But…I knew other men on another continent who fought for peace. Men who protected their women with everything they had, refusing to betray them.

I study the man—thegod—in front of me. His humanity is a skin he has been forced to wear, but the reality of him is evident in the occasional dark glint in his eyes. He covers it with easy smiles and warm humor, but if he gets the first grimoire, he will crave the other two.

I turn and pace. Calysian watches me, his eyes turning hard.

Vicana has sent Kyldare after the grimoire. I’d like to think I can get there before him, take it, and run, but…

I blow out a breath, gazing down at my body. Three years without training has eaten away at my muscle. I have little stamina, and even with my power, I can’t take out an entire regiment alone.

But Calysian can. As he recently proved.

Sometimes in life, there are no good choices. Sometimes, it’s about making the choice with the least painnowand dealing with the consequences later.

I won’t let Vicana bring the same dark fate to this continent that Regner brought to ours.

“Fine,” I say, and Calysian’s eyes darken with triumph. I glance behind me at the cottage. “But not here.”

Calysian

The dark god.