Page 34 of Gods of Prey (Parallel Prey #3)

“What if we weren’t who we are? What if Sebastian takes his rightful role back and I become a free agent? What if we were just Sienna and Revel, two people who found each other?”

The longing in his voice mirrors something deep inside me. Something I’ve been denying since the moment I saw him standing in Sebastian’s chambers in Aurelys beside that trembling maid, looking so out of place among the vibrant, growing things my brother surrounds himself with.

“But we are who we are and the situation is the same,” I remind him gently.

“Tonight, I don’t want to be.” He reaches for the bottle again, and this time I let him take it.

“Tonight, I just want to forget all of this. The Divine Council, the balance, our duty.” He takes another drink, grimacing as it goes down.

“I want to forget that I’m falling for someone I can never have. ”

The words hit me like a physical blow. Falling for someone. For me .

I scowl at the absurdity of it: the God of Life falling for the Goddess of Death. The son of the woman who will punt me out of existence the first chance she gets. It would be laughable if it didn’t make my heart ache.

“You’ll regret saying this in the morning,” I tell him.

“Probably.” He sits back down heavily, legs dangling over the edge again. “But at least I’ll have said it once.”

I settle beside him, close enough that if I were corporeal, our shoulders would touch. We sit in silence for a long time, watching the lights of Seattle shimmer below us.

“What would you do?” I ask, my voice barely more than a whisper. “If things were different, what would you do?”

His brows lift, eyes openly roaming my face as he considers the questions. Until finally, his expression falls into something more mischievous, a smirk playing at the sides of his lips. And I know I’m going to regret opening this door.

But he surprises me by saying, “It wouldn’t be gentlemanly to speak to a goddess in that way.”

“You’d be surprised how some people speak to me.

I want to hear it.” My mouth is somehow disconnected from my brain.

I know that whatever fantasies he’s conjured up in his mind will have me blushing for days.

But I want to hear them still. I want to know that he desires me outside of the dreams I’ve manipulated.

I want to compare them to my own.

“First, I’d wrap all that beautiful, shimmering hair around my fist and tug it back until you had no choice but to open up for me.”

I frown, reaching around to run my fingers through my hair protectively. Without being too obvious, I gently pull a few strands to simulate what he’s describing.

“Have you ever been worshipped, goddess? Properly?”

Shaking my head, I bit my lip. I’ve definitely been worshipped before, but not in the way he’s asking.

“That’s what I’d do next. I’d lay you down and honor every inch of your body. With my hands...” His eyebrows flicker. “With my tongue.”

I’m more alarmed with the heat building in my core at his words than anything else. Because I want that. I know he means it. I need his touch on my body, exactly as he’s described. Exactly as I’ve had him in his dreams.

Worse, even.

But he’s not thinking straight, and I can’t allow myself to get caught up in fantasies and regret.

“Once there’s not a single speck of flesh that hasn’t been touched by me, I’d lay you down and make love to you. Fast, slow. Rough, soft. Angry. Caring. I want all of it. Every version. With you.” His heated gaze never leaves mine as he openly confesses such forbidden things.

I have no doubts about what he’s describing.

And if I allow myself to fall into this madness alongside him, I know I’d want the same.

I’d want him to fight me and love me. To caress me and use me.

Our relationship is so chaotic, there’s no way we could settle for one or the other. I want the good and the bad.

But I’m afraid it’ll only lead to disappointment. I don’t often get what I want. Especially when there are beings who would rip it all away from me the moment they catch a whiff of my happiness.

I look away first. “You’re drunk.”

“Yes.” He nods earnestly. “Very. Which is why I can finally say it.” He sets the bottle down with deliberate care. “I’ve hated you for centuries. Did you know that?”

The words sting more than they should, but I refuse to let it show. Tilting my head, I bite back, “The feeling was mutual.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I hated you because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.

The fearsome Goddess of Death.” He holds his hands out like he’s bracketing the words.

“Sebastian’s untouchable sister.” His voice drops lower.

“I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you take on your role in Umbraeth, collecting souls with so much.

..grace. Probably sooner, if I’m honest.”

A warmth spreads through me that has nothing to do with my spectral form. “You’re talking nonsense.”

“Am I?” He sits up, leaning toward where I hover. “Then why can’t I even look at you without wondering what it would be like to touch you? To feel your power matched against mine?”

The air between us charges with something electric. I’ve felt this before—the push and pull between Life and Death, creation and ending. But never so intimate, never so focused on me as a woman rather than a goddess.

“You can’t touch me,” I remind him, though my voice has grown softer. “Not in this form.”

His smile turns wistful. “Another reason to drink, then.”

Something reckless stirs within me. I’ve spent centuries constrained by duty, by punishment, by the limitations of mortal forms. But here, tonight, with the city lights below and Revel looking at me like that...

I focus inward, drawing on my divine essence. It’s difficult in the mortal realm. Illegal. But not impossible.

Gradually, I feel myself solidifying, darkness coalescing into form. My spectral blue-white glow shifts to something darker, deeper—the midnight hues of Umbraeth. My true form.

Revel’s eyes widen, his lips parting in surprise. “Sienna,” He warns, but it’s only halfhearted. More of a knee jerk reaction than a reflection of his true feelings.

I’m so tired of living with the fear of the Divine Council over my head. Dreading the fact that they’ll punish my every move.

I stand before him now, corporeal but not mortal. My skin shimmers with the faintest dusting of stars. My hair, white as the void between worlds, floats around me as if underwater. The mark of Death—a crescent moon—glows faintly on my forehead.

“I am still the Goddess of Death,” I say, my voice resonating differently now. “Even here. They haven’t taken that away from me yet.”

He rises slowly, unsteady but determined. When he reaches for me, his hand meets solid form. I shiver at the physical contact. The first I’ve felt since dying in this realm.

That thought sobers me.

“You’re cold,” he murmurs, his fingers trailing up my arm.

“Death usually is.”

His palm cups my cheek with a gentleness I don’t expect from him, and the warmth of his life energy seeps into me. “Let me warm you, then.”

When his lips finally meet mine, it feels like worlds colliding. Life meeting Death. Beginning meeting end. His warmth against my cool skin creates steam that rises between us in the night air. His mouth tastes of whiskey and something sweeter—something uniquely him .

I sink into the kiss, centuries of animosity transforming into something else entirely.

My hands find his chest, feeling his mortal heartbeat thundering beneath my palms. Every point of contact between us creates that same electric charge.

Life energy meeting Death magic, creating something new in the space between.

This isn’t anything like his dreams. There’s no doubt he knows exactly what is happening here.

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes filled with wonder. “I’ve imagined this so many times,” he confesses.

“Me too. I can’t maintain this form for long,” I warn him, even as I pull him closer, my fingers coiling around the wispy hair at his neckline.

“Then we shouldn’t waste time,” he murmurs against my neck. Strong arms wrap around my waist, guiding me on top of him as he leans back against the hard concrete so my wings can splay out behind my back.

His hands explore me with worship, tracing the constellations that shimmer across my skin.

Warm palms cup my breasts, teasing my nipples a bit before they continue south and begin rubbing circles against the soft flesh of my center through my pants.

I respond with the same enthusiasm, marveling at the heat of him, the solid reality that is so different from my usual existence.

When clothing becomes a barrier, it dissolves at my touch—a trick of Death magic that makes him laugh in surprised delight.

We move together on the rooftop, hidden from mortal eyes by the veil between worlds that always surrounds me. Each touch is a revelation, each kiss a connection between realms that shouldn’t exist.

His body covers mine, strong and vital where I am ethereal and dark.

The contrast between us is breathtaking—his golden skin against my midnight hues, his warmth against my cool touch.

When he lines himself up with my center and we join completely, it’s like nothing I’ve experienced in all my long existence.

Life energy surges into me with each thrust, making my divine form glow brighter.

I understand now—the allure of Aurelys. Now that I feel it within me.

He’s larger than any male I’ve been with before, which leaves a small bite of pain every time he reaches the deepest parts of me.

Or perhaps it’s just been too long since I’ve physically done this with anyone.

In return, the pleasure of my cool Death touch makes him gasp—not painful but intense, like standing at the edge of a precipice and choosing to fall.

Our time together in his dream scape was a diluted version of the passion we have now. A small taste that hardly prepared me for the pure ecstasy of this moment.

“Sienna,” he breathes against my skin, my name a prayer on his lips. “My goddess.”

Stars burst behind my eyes as we move together, faster and more desperate as my form begins to flicker. I’m losing my hold on corporality, the effort of maintaining it under such intensity becoming too much.

“Stay with me,” he pleads, sensing my struggle.

“I can’t,” I gasp, feeling myself beginning to fade. “Revel, I?—”

He captures my mouth in one last desperate kiss as we both tumble over the edge of euphoria, the pleasure crashing through us like a wave breaking against the shore. For one perfect moment, I am fully present—fully alive in my true form—before the magic gives way.

As the ecstasy subsides, my form shifts back to spectral blue-white, my body becoming translucent once more. His arms pass through me when he tries to hold me, and I see disappointment flash across his face before he masks it.

We lie there side by side—him solid, me ghostly—looking up at the stars.

“Do you regret it?” he asks finally, his breath forming clouds in the cool night air.

I consider lying. It would be easier. But something has changed between us, a shift as fundamental as Life and Death themselves.

“No,” I admit quietly. “But it complicates things.”

He laughs softly. “Everything about us is complicated.”

“This can’t happen again,” I insist, but my voice holds less conviction than ever before.

“Of course not.” He turns his head to look at me, a smile playing at his lips. “We hate each other, remember?”

I can’t help but smile back. “Absolutely.”

“And tomorrow, I’ll probably blame it on the whiskey.”

“As you should.”

His expression turns serious. “But we’ll both know the truth.”

I nod slowly, unable to deny it any longer. “We will.”

As dawn approaches, we stay on the rooftop, not touching but somehow more connected than ever before. Whatever comes next—Sebastian’s return, the Divine Council’s judgment, the balancing of realms—nothing will be the same between us.

For tonight, I let myself imagine a different future—one where Death and Life find harmony not just in the cosmos, but in each other’s arms.