Page 12 of Gods of Prey (Parallel Prey #3)

Sienna

T he silence in our shared apartment stretches like a taut wire, ready to snap. Revel’s been pacing like a caged predator for the past hour. The sound of his footsteps on the hardwood is starting to grate against my nerves.

It’s no better than the tongue-lashing I received on the way back home. The more time that passes, the angrier he gets.

“Stop,” I say without turning around.

“Stop what?”

“The pacing. You’re making me dizzy.”

He doesn’t stop. If anything, his steps become more pronounced and deliberate. “Your brother practically accused me of stalking him tonight.”

I finally turn to face him. Revel has loosened his tie from the gala, the black silk hanging around his neck like a noose. His light brown hair is disheveled from running his hands through it so many times, and there’s a tension in his jaw that signifies barely contained frustration.

“Bash has no room to judge on that matter, unfortunately.” I huff out a laugh, too amused by my own joke to care that Revel looks even more sour-faced than before.

“He’s always been paranoid,” I add dismissively, floating closer to the center of the room.

“Even as children, he questioned everything. This is just his nature.”

“This isn’t childhood paranoia, Sienna.” He stops pacing long enough to fix me with those piercing gray eyes that are bordering on silver as his anger heats up.

“He suspects something supernatural. The way he looked at me—it was like he was seeing through some kind of glamour. And you only added to it.”

A chill runs through me that has nothing to do with my spectral form. “Good. His divine consciousness is awakening faster than we anticipated.”

“Or someone is helping it along.”

The accusation hangs in the air between us. I drift higher, putting distance between us even though I know it’s futile. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Revel says, moving to the kitchen and pulling out a bottle of wine, “that whenever I think we’re making progress, you do something reckless to set us back. Tonight, Jovie mentioned she’s seen your ghost before. As far back as their wedding.”

I watch him uncork the bottle with more force than necessary. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” I finally admit.

“Jovie and Sebastian were married when we arrived together.” He pours himself a generous glass of red wine, the liquid dark as blood in the dim apartment lighting. “How could she have seen your spectral form if you were safely tucked away in Umbraeth, as you claim?”

“I don’t know what she was talking about,” I snap, the lie falling easily from my tongue as my form flickers with anger.

I did return to the mortal realm for a short stint, before Revel summoned me to Aurelys. I wanted to check on Sebastian and Jovie and get a feel for what I would be asking the interim god for help with. It just so happened to be the day Jovie and Bash were exchanging vows.

He takes a long drink before responding. “Don’t you, though? Why does it feel like I’m the only one actually trying to bring Sebastian back to his rightful place?” He sets the glass down hard enough that wine sloshes over the rim. “Tell me, Sienna—what happened in this realm when you died?”

My heart would stop if it were still beating. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t lie to me.” His voice drops to a dangerous whisper. “I’ve been thinking about it since the gala. The way Jovie talks about you. The strong vendetta Sebastian holds for your death. I’m missing a vital piece of the story, aren’t I?”

I drift toward the living room, needing space from him to think. I won’t allow him to back me into a corner and admit things he has no business knowing. “You have all the information you need to complete our task.”

“Do I?” Revel follows me, wine glass in hand, “I think that you’ve formed relationships there. Attachments that still linger.”

The word hits like a physical blow. Attachments . In the divine realm, attachments are weaknesses. They cloud judgment, compromise missions, lead to the kind of mistakes that result in punishment by the Divine Council.

“I did what I had to do,” I say carefully.

“Which was?”

I turn to face him, allowing my anger to fully show. “I don’t owe you any explanations, interim god . I told you not to cross me before we got here. Don’t forget that I’m still your superior.”

“You’re hiding something, goddess .” He spits the title just as venomously as I did to him. His eyes never leave mine as a taunting smirk pulls at the left side of his mouth, that irritating dimple taunting me. He enjoys this—pushing my buttons until I explode.

“And if I am?”

“I’ve got to figure it out first.” He moves closer, and I resist the urge to retreat. “And then, I’m going to lay you out to dry before the Divine Council.”

“I don’t owe you?—”

“You do,” he cuts me off. “Every decision you make in this realm affects me. My future. One thing has quickly become clear in my short time in this realm: You’re not only trying to retrieve your brother, Sienna.

You’re trying to preserve what little shred of happiness you have here.

The tiniest bit of relevance you felt as a mortal because when you get back to Umbraeth, no one gives a damn about you.

And you’re doing it with no regard for what it costs any of us. ”

My mouth pops open. He’s right. I’d go to great lengths to keep this small spark of joy alive. There’s nothing waiting for me at home in that cold, empty castle. But I can’t admit that—not to him, not to anyone.

“My only concern is restoring the balance,” I lie.

Revel laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “If that were true, we would have dragged Sebastian back by force already and left the mortal woman to mourn alone. Instead, we’re playing house in Seattle, pretending to be his neighbors, tiptoeing around his feelings.”

“Because force won’t work with Sebastian!” I scream. “We need him to choose to return.”

“Do we?” Revel drains his wine glass, a calm to my storm. “Or do you need to convince yourself that you’re not betraying someone you’ve grown to love?”

I feel my form flickering again, my control wavering.

“Don’t,” I whisper.

“Don’t what? Don’t point out that you’ve compromised our entire mission for the sake of a mortal’s feelings?” Revel sets his glass aside and steps closer. “Don’t mention that every day we delay, the balance deteriorates further?”

“I know what’s at stake?—”

“Do you?” His voice rises. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’ve forgotten that we serve the divine order, not our personal desires.”

I materialize fully, anger giving me strength. “Stop lecturing me about duty, Revel. I’ve been paying for my mistakes for thousands of years. I understand sacrifice better than you ever will.”

“Then prove it.” He’s close enough now that I can feel the warmth radiating from his skin, smell the wine on his breath. “Stop protecting them and help me bring Sebastian home.”

“I am helping?—”

A sharp crack interrupts our argument. The air in the room shifts, becoming charged with divine energy. I recognize the sensation immediately—a messenger from the divine realms.

A figure materializes in our living room, tall and ethereal with wings that seem to be made of pure light. They’ve sent an angel from Aurelys.

My stomach drops.

“Lord Revel,” the messenger intones, their voice echoing with harmonic resonance. “I bring word from the Elder Council.”

Revel straightens, all traces of our argument disappearing behind a mask of divine composure. “Speak.”

“The council grows concerned by your prolonged absence. The realm of life requires its steward. You are summoned to return within three mortal weeks to provide an account of your mission.”

I feel the blood drain from my face—if I had blood to drain. Three weeks . That’s nowhere near enough time.

“Tell the council I require more time,” Revel says carefully, obviously experiencing the same panic as me. “The situation is...complex.” His gaze flickers toward me.

The messenger’s expression doesn’t change. “The balance grows unstable. Plants wither without cause. Animals refuse to breed. The cycle of life stalls in your absence. The Elder Council will not wait longer than three weeks.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then they will send others to retrieve both you and the absent God of Life.”

The threat is clear: If we don’t succeed in the next three weeks, Sebastian’s council will intervene directly. They’ll drag him back by force, consequences be damned.

It seems that’s exactly what Revel wants to happen, anyway.

“I understand,” Revel says.

I roll my eyes at his easy submission. This is why I run my realm myself. No councils with their noses in my business.

The messenger nods and begins to fade. “Three weeks, my lord. Do not test the council’s patience further.”

As soon as the angel disappears, the apartment falls silent except for the sound of rain against the windows. The pressure of our deadline settles over us like a shroud.

“Three weeks,” I whisper.

Revel turns to me, and I see my own panic reflected in his eyes. “Sienna, if you’re hiding something— anything —that could help us reach Sebastian, you need to tell me now.”

I want to confess everything. The friendship I’d built with Jovie, the way Sebastian had looked at peace for the first time in millennia, how the thought of dragging him back to his divine prison makes my chest ache.

But I can’t. Because admitting those feelings would mean admitting I’ve been compromised.

That I might choose love over duty, just like my brother has.

“There’s nothing,” I say instead.

Revel stares at me for a long moment, and I can see him weighing my words, searching for the lie I know he can sense.

“Fine,” he says finally. “Then we do this the hard way.”

“What do you mean?”

He moves to the window, looking out at the building across the street where Sebastian and Jovie are probably settling in for the night, unaware that their world is about to collapse.

“I mean we stop playing games. First chance I get, I tell Sebastian exactly who I am and what will happen if he doesn’t return to Aurelys. No more gentle persuasion. No more protecting his feelings.”

“Revel, you can’t?—”

“I can and I will.” He turns back to me, and I see steel in his expression. “Because unlike you, I remember what happens when gods abandon their duties. The last time the balance failed, entire civilizations fell. Millions died.”

The reminder hits like a physical blow. I remember those dark years, the chaos that ensued when divine order collapsed at the hands of the late God of Chaos. But I also remember Sebastian’s face tonight at the gala—the way he’d smiled at Jovie, the peace in his eyes.

“There has to be another way,” I say desperately.

“If there is, you have days to find it.” Revel heads toward his bedroom, pausing at the doorway. “But Sienna? Stop lying to me. Whatever secret you’re keeping, it’s not worth the end of everything.”

He disappears into his room, leaving me alone with the weight of our deadline and the terrible knowledge that he’s right.

I am keeping secrets. I am compromised. And in three weeks, if I can’t find another solution, I’ll have to choose between my duty to the divine order and the happiness of the only family I have left.

I drift to the window, pressing my spectral palm against the cold glass. Across the street, a light is still on in Sebastian and Jovie’s apartment. I wonder if they’re lying in bed together, planning their future, oblivious to the sword hanging over their heads.

Three weeks.

I close my eyes and try to think of a way to save them all—Sebastian’s happiness, the divine balance, and maybe, if I’m lucky, what’s left of my own heart.

But as the rain continues to fall, and the deadline looms, I’m starting to fear that some choices can’t be avoided. That sometimes, love and duty are mutually exclusive.

And that in three weeks, I might have to break my brother’s heart to save the world.