Page 23 of Gods of Prey (Parallel Prey #3)

The air between us seems to thicken with unspoken words. Centuries of shared existence, of punishment endured together, of twin souls bound by divine duty.

“How has she abandoned her realm twice?” Revel’s voice is slow and steady, like he’s controlling it with every ounce of his being.

Sebastian turns toward his friend, one brow lifted in question. The realization settles over him at once, his expression falling into one of understanding. “Of course, she didn’t tell you everything,” my brother scoffs, pinning me with a chastising stare.

No, I didn’t tell Revel everything because if I had, we’d all be food at the bottom of Shadowmere lake.

“There hasn’t been an opportunity,” I grind out, my eyes drifting between the two men who have always done this—ganged up on me and made me feel small. Nodding toward the mortal chained to the wall, I add, “This is hardly the place.”

“What is going on with him?” Bash asks, accepting my excuse. I can tell by the tight look on Revel’s face that he’s not as easily placated.

Jovie bravely steps forward, though she walks on unsteady feet. We’ve shocked her. Probably more than she’s letting show. “He was mine to give to you. A peace offering.”

Bash’s expression softens as he looks at her. “You didn’t need to do that.”

“I wanted to,” she says simply. “For Sienna.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. Once again, I see clearly how much Jovie remembers—not just facts, but feelings. The friendship we built. The trust we shared.

Bash turns to Voss, his expression hardening. He steps closer, and I notice something change in my brother’s bearing. A subtle shift, almost imperceptible to mortal eyes, but unmistakable to me. The God of Life stirring beneath the human facade.

“Sebastian,” Revel says warningly, also sensing the change.

Bash ignores him, just as I had, placing a hand on Voss’s forehead.

Before any of us can react, a pulse of golden light emanates from Bash’s palm. Voss gasps, his body arching against the restraints. I feel the surge of life energy—raw, unfiltered divine power—flowing into the mortal’s body.

“Sebastian, stop!” Revel moves forward, but I step between them to hold him back.

“Let him finish,” I say quietly. The last thing the interim god needs is to piss off the awakening one when he’s not used to controlling himself.

The light fades, and Bash steps back. Voss slumps against the pipe lifelessly.

“What did you do to him?” Jovie’s voice comes out as a squeaky whisper, her eyes wide.

A cold smile crosses Bash’s face. “I ensured he won’t be continuing on with any plans to revive The Order.”

“That’s cruel,” Revel says, his face twisted in horror. “And an inappropriate use of energy from the God of Life. We’ll have to pay for this.”

“It’s justice,” Bash replies, his voice carrying an echo of divine authority that tells Revel to back down from his high horse. “The justice of Life and Death.”

That would be true, if Death had delivered the fatal blow. But Sebastian is living in some sort of upside down world. Once where he encroaches on my domain without consequence.

Revel shakes his head, but his lips tighten into a thin line. I want him to say more. To berate my brother the same way he does to me at every turn. To challenge his commitment and question his authority.

The brutal use of divine magic was inexcusable. Unacceptable. Unnatural.

Instead, he cowers.

Why does Sebastian deserve all this respect as the God of Life when what he’s doing is so clearly wrong?

Bash turns to me, unconcerned with Revel’s irritated growl. “You’ve been busy,” he says, his voice softer.

Breaking eye contact with Revel, I jut my chin out and cross my arms. “As have you. Playing mortal. Crossing boundaries and breaking cosmic laws.”

“For love,” he says simply, taking Jovie’s hand. “Wouldn’t you do the same?”

My gaze flickers involuntarily to Revel again, then jumps back to my brother. “I wouldn’t know.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrow slightly, catching the glance. A small smile plays at the corner of his mouth.

Before I can respond, the building’s alarm system activates, wailing through the previously quiet space.

“We need to go,” Revel says urgently, stepping toward me. “Now.”

Bash nods, making a quick decision. “We’ll get rid of him,” he says, nodding to Voss.

Revel and I share a look. Neither of us wants to know what that entails.

He and Jovie quickly untie Voss’s lifeless form from the pipe, keeping his hands bound. I float ahead, checking the path is clear as we make our escape through the service entrance.

Outside in the predawn darkness, we split up—Bash and Jovie taking Voss in their car, Revel and I heading back to his apartment.

As we walk through the quiet streets, Revel finally breaks the silence. “He’s remembering easier than we expected.”

“Yes,” I agree. “And using his powers.”

Revel nods grimly. “I don’t want to imagine what this will do for our case against the Divine Council.”

“It’s not very Sebastian-like,” I say, a hint of bitterness in my voice despite myself. “Even as a mortal, he finds ways to balance the scales. But not like this.”

He’s likely just created another headache for Erebus to deal with on top of everything else.

“Is that what you call it?” Revel asks, glancing at me. “What you two were doing with the order—hunting them down, making them pay. Is that balance?”

I drift closer to him, suddenly defensive all over again.

No, it’s not what I call it, but if I made a scene about it back there, they would have ganged up on me like they always do.

“What about you? For being Mr. Righteousness, you sure shut your mouth real quick back there. He tells you to jump and you ask, ‘how high?’”

“I can’t alienate him when we’ve just broken through,” he bites back. “Not all of us can act on impulse like you.”

“You don’t understand what it’s like, Revel.” I sigh. I’m exhausted of trying to explain it to him.

“You’re right,” he admits. “I don’t understand. But I do know that vengeance isn’t the answer.”

“It’s not vengeance,” I insist, hating that I’m defending Sebastian over something I’m also pissed about. “It’s justice.”

“Is it?” He stops walking, turning to face me fully. “Or is it just another way for you and Sebastian to avoid your divine responsibilities?”

His words hit me like a physical blow. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” Light gray eyes search my spectral form. “You’ve been hiding things from me, Sienna. I called it from the start. Your friendship with Jovie. Your involvement in hunting the order. The true time you’ve spent here. How am I supposed to trust you?”

I drift away from him, stung by the accusation. “Trust works both ways. You followed Jovie tonight. You blew our cover. You’ve been watching us.”

“Because I knew you weren’t telling me everything!” His voice rises slightly, then he takes a deep breath, calming himself. “We’re supposed to be partners in this. That’s what we agreed to when we stepped through the veil. When we stood on that New York street.”

The word ‘partners’ hangs between us, loaded with meaning neither of us is ready to address.

With a desire to be more .

The version we allow ourselves to be in the dream state.

“Sebastian is remembering,” I say, changing the subject. “That’s what matters. Our mission is progressing.”

He starts walking again, shaking his head. “The mission has changed. You know that as well as I do.”

I float alongside him, silent for a long moment. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that none of us are objective anymore,” he says quietly. “Not me. Not you. Not even Sebastian.” He glances at me. “We all have something to lose now.”

As we reach his apartment building, I know he’s right. The lines have blurred. Duty and desire, divine and mortal, Life and Death—all the neat categories I’ve relied on for centuries are dissolving.

And somewhere in that dissolution, I’m finding something I never expected: A connection to Revel that goes beyond our shared mission.

Something that feels dangerously like what Sebastian found with Jovie.

Something that could change everything.