Page 22 of Evermore (The Never Sky #3)

Thorne

S erene glided in first. Golden eyes, luminous and hypnotic, swept across the room, leaving a trail of slack-jawed mortals in their wake.

It was the same song and dance from Lithe.

Her favorite mortal celebration. There wasn’t a person in the room that didn’t know of her.

Some more personally than others, no doubt.

Her gown, if it could be called that, clung to her curves like liquid shadow, revealing more than it concealed with each graceful step.

Evert melted into his chair, likely giving her the reaction she’d hoped for.

Behind her strode Bellatora, Goddess of War and Ruin, pain in my ass.

Her fiery red hair stood out against Serene’s midnight curls.

Her golden eyes sparkled with mischief when she looked at me.

I had to remember I was playing mortal when my fingers twitched with darker, violent desires.

I took my seat beside Tuck once more, exchanging a glance with Minerva before I sat back and let the shit show begin.

The temperature in the room rose several degrees as they passed, a party trick I’d taught Bellatora centuries ago. Several council members shifted uncomfortably in their seats, suddenly acutely aware of long forgotten desires and half remembered losses.

Aldus froze, stepping away from the goddesses as they circled the table and sat on both sides of his abandoned chair.

“Come join us, won’t you Aldy, love?”

Serene’s serpentine smile was met by Aldus’s unwavering resolve.

She’d pumped enough magic into that invitation, most mortals, those that hadn’t known pleasure, would have fallen to their knees for her.

I bit my lip to keep from smiling, knowing that said far more about Aldus’s youth than it had Serene’s power.

“Tell me why you’re here,” he countered. “You’re welcome, of course, but when the Goddess of War and Ruin walks into my council chambers with the Goddess of Lust and Loss, one can never be too careful.”

Smart man. Pissing off Serene was one thing.

She’d poison your mind with lust or corrupt you with an incurable obsession with another, but Bellatora, she was dangerous for a mortal king.

Perhaps not as dangerous as Minerva, but as of now, Aldus Windale had no idea there were five gods sitting in on his high council meeting.

Whatever the agenda for the day had been, it’d just taken a hard right turn.

Bellatora’s smile widened. A low rumble, like distant thunder, began to reverberate through the stone walls, filling the chamber with the symphony of a battle.

The scent of smoke and copper filled the air, so thick you could almost taste it.

Several in the room, Salt and Silk alike, clamped their hands over their ears, eyes wide with horror as they witnessed phantom soldiers cut down before them.

My expression was impassive as I watched the goddess work.

This was child’s play compared to what she was truly capable of, but it was enough to reduce most of the mortals to quivering messes.

Evert shifted uncomfortably across from me, his jaw clenched tight as he fought against the goddess’s influence.

Bellatora’s laughter cut through the chaos, a sound of pure, malicious joy.

She reveled in the fear and anguish radiating from the humans, feeding off their terror like a leech.

Her golden eyes gleamed with unholy light.

“My dear King Aldus, you stand on a precipice of your own making. You could very well find yourself with a war on your hands.” She swirled her fingers into Aldus’s gray hair. “I don’t mind a war, Aldy, if it’s what you want. But Serene and I were certain you should know the whispers of the Fates.”

Lies. All lies. The Fates weren’t holding meetings with gods. She was meddling. Pushing. Likely towards a war and not away from one.

“And what do the Fates tell you, Bellatora?” Minerva asked, drawing the gasp of those around her.

Bella narrowed her eyes on the old woman but answered coolly. “Only that our precious king must choose a successor immediately, lest he seem weak to those around him.”

A hush fell over the room, the phantom battle fading to an ominous whisper. Aldus’s face, already pale, drained of what little color remained.

“I am… terribly sorry for the loss of your son,” Bellatora said, though her tone held no trace of sympathy. Her lips curled into a cruel smile as she continued. “But these matters cannot wait. I’m sure you understand.”

The mortal king’s face hardened, his eyes flashing with a mixture of grief and anger. “My child’s body is barely cold, and you dare speak of succession? Have you no shame, goddess?”

Tuck and I shared a look. His choice of words were telling. Because he clearly spoke of Harlow in that statement and not of Farris.

Bellatora’s smile only widened, revealing teeth that were a touch too sharp. “Shame? I am War. I am Ruin incarnate. Shame is a mortal concern. If you’d prefer my council be shared with other kingdoms, you must only ask.”

I let my power roll through the room until the air was gone.

Until the light faded away and the threat weighed heavily on her fucking shoulders.

This was my realm now. Mine to govern. Mine to control.

And she needed to back the fuck off. She cowered under the pressure.

The glow she and Serene had sauntered in here with fading until they might’ve only been beautiful mortals.

Serene leaned into him, pointedly ignoring me, her golden eyes locked on Aldus.

“We speak only out of concern for your kingdom, Your Majesty. Surely you can see the wisdom in our words? A kingdom without a clear line of succession is like a ship without a rudder, drifting aimlessly, vulnerable to any storm that may arise. Perhaps young Lord Cedric, with his sharp mind and sharper sword? Or Lady Elara, whose beauty is matched only by her cunning?” Serene’s smile turned predatory as she delivered the real reason they’d come.

“But let us not forget the most fascinating possibility of all, the Paramour. You chose her yourself at Lithe. Perhaps there was a reason you were so drawn to her?”

My vision narrowed, tunneling until all I could see was Serene’s smug face as she spoke those damning words. The Paramour. Paesha.

I could feel my power surging. Though none in the room could see it, I reached deep within myself, pulling on power that had once flowed like water but now burned like molten steel in my veins.

The taste of copper flooded my mouth as I focused my attack solely on the two goddesses.

To the mortal eye, Serene and Bellatora simply went rigid in their seats, their eyes widening with a terror that none present had ever seen on a divine face.

I forced them to experience every second of their existence simultaneously, every beginning and every ending, every moment of power and every instant of weakness, until their immortal minds began to fracture under the weight of their own histories.

Their carefully constructed facades cracked as they felt pieces of their divinity starting to unravel.

The goddesses’ eyes dulled to a muddy brown as they struggled to remember their own names, their own purposes, their own beginnings.

They were young gods, barely more than children, and now they felt every second of their comparative insignificance.

The council members shifted uncomfortably, sensing something was wrong but unable to comprehend the true battle of power taking place before them.

My mind screamed in protest as I held them suspended in that state of existential uncertainty, burning away fragments of my own divinity to maintain the assault.

Maybe now they would finally understand how far they had overstepped.

They stumbled to their feet, their immortal powers flickering like candles, though to the council it would appear they simply lost their earlier confidence.

The room remained perfectly normal, the stone walls solid, the air still, but Serene and Bellatora saw the truth in my eyes as I sat calmly in my chair; they were not the most dangerous beings in this chamber, and they never had been.

Minerva leaned forward, her wizened face creased with concern. “Surely you jest, goddess. The Paramour is but a commoner, with no claim to the throne.”

“P-Pardon the intrusion, but will you not give the king a moment to speak on his own plans?” a Silk man asked, adjusting the sleeve on his tunic to keep from meeting the eyes of the goddesses.

“That’s an interesting concept,” I followed up, leaning back in my chair. “Selecting the king’s successor seems awfully invasive,” and against the fucking rules from the Fates, “Doesn’t it?”

“Oh, we don’t mean to choose for the mortal king,” Bellatora answered, her voice far quieter than it’d been before. “Only help with options.”

“Has he asked for your help?” Tuck asked, leaning forward to fill a glass of water from a pitcher on the table and slide it in front of the king.

To most, that gesture would have meant nothing.

A lowly man serving a king. But amongst the gods, Tuck was staking his claim over Aldus Windale.

He served him. And that was that. I loved that growly bastard.

Aldus reached for the glass and took a sip, sharing a nod of gratitude to Tuck before addressing the goddesses. “I do appreciate the warning. And the work you’ve done to bring me options. I shall think on this and make a decision soon. You have my word.”

They’d lost this battle, and they knew it.

“Of course, Your Majesty. We bow to your wisdom in this matter.”

Bellatora inclined her head, her fiery hair cascading over her shoulder like a river of blood. “We shall take our leave, then. But remember time waits for no one. Not even you.”

That was a threat directed solely at me.

The heavy oak doors swung open of their own accord, groaning on ancient hinges.

As the goddesses crossed the threshold, they vanished.

Aldus cleared his throat and gripped the arms of his chair.

When he spoke, his voice was low but firm, carrying the unmistakable tone of royal command.

“My lords and ladies, I thank you for your counsel today. We have much to think about. I ask only that you look amongst yourselves and find the similarities within your own cowardice in the face of the gods that plague this realm. It doesn’t matter if you are Salt or Silk, rich or poor, fat or thin, tall or short.

In the end, we’re merely cannon fodder for a war that spans lifetimes and has nothing to do with us.

Now leave me. And trust that I will not abandon you again. ”

The council left in a hurry, not bothering to look back at their king as his words followed them out the door. Only when Tuck and I were left, did he nod to the guards, and the doors were shut once more. I hadn’t expected private counsel, but based on the look on Tuck’s face, he had.

“That didn’t go to plan,” Aldus said, rising from his seat. “Find my son and bring him to me. Archer Windale is the only man I’ll see sit on that throne.”

“It’ll be a hard sell, Your Majesty,” Tuck said, refilling his water.

“It won’t be hard. It’ll be impossible,” I confirmed. “Whatever sway you think you might have with him, it’s gone. It was buried in the ground the day his sister was. Your best bet is to find someone else. A cousin. A nephew. Anyone else.”

Aldus’s wrinkled eyes narrowed. “All the same, something tells me you boys might know where to find him. I want him sitting in this room by nightfall.”

With that, the king rose and walked out. I waited a few seconds before sharing a look with Tuck.

“You know he’s not going to come, right?”

“God of Knowledge,” he said, tapping his forehead. “I know all kinds of useless shit.”