Page 35 of Gods of Prey (Parallel Prey #3)

Sienna

I find Sebastian on the rooftop of his penthouse the following morning, staring out at the skyline.

There’s something about these gods and their basal need to be in open air.

I feel it too—this constant nagging feeling to stretch my wings, even when they aren’t there.

Though it’s not as suffocating in this form as it is being trapped in a mortal body.

The wind whips through his overgrown dark hair, but doesn’t disturb him. Now that he remembers who he is, mortal elements affect him differently. I remember the feeling, like wearing a costume that doesn’t quite fit right.

I can only hope he doesn’t sense Revel’s essence on me. Maybe being a ghost masks it.

“Took you long enough,” I say, materializing beside him.

He doesn’t look at me right away, clearly unsurprised by my intrusion. “How long have you known what was happening?” The question comes out sharp, like he’s accusing me of something heinous.

I never know what mood I’ll find him in anymore, though it’s usually volatile whenever he’s faced with time alone with me. In fact, he appears to only be in a good mood when Jovie is around. Every other minute of the day is spent brooding.

“That you were manipulating timelines? Since the moment I woke up in the mortal plane instead of Umbraeth after our thirty-third death.” I hover just above the concrete, the chill of the night air passing through my spectral form.

My tone remains carefully neutral as I refuse to engage with whatever fight he may try to start over this.

“That you had forgotten who you were? Shortly after, I returned to Umbraeth and didn’t feel your presence.

I gave you the benefit of the doubt for a while.

Thought maybe you were just...saying goodbye. ”

Sebastian turns to me then, his usually bright eyes filled with the weight of all the worlds. “But then you realized I wasn’t planning to return at all.”

Nodding, I look out at the skyline before us. “You know what that means for the balance.” It’s not a question.

He leans forward against the railing, tucking his face into his chest as he rakes his fingers through his hair. “I know. I just...I couldn’t leave her, Sienna.”

I drift closer, studying my twin’s face. For the first time in centuries, I see fear there. Not the kind we’ve faced in our mortal lives—not the fear of death or pain—but something deeper.

For the first time in centuries, he has something to lose again. Just as I did before our punishment. He stood by my side then, his loyalty unwavering.

I suppose it’s my turn now.

“You tried to tell me, didn’t you?” he says suddenly. “In the last timeline. When you first appeared to me.”

I’m shocked by his willingness to speak of what he’s done so casually when the consequences of such a thing are so dire.

The memories of our time together wash over me.

Materializing in his apartment after my brutal death at the hands of The Order.

Watching him plan their deaths with meticulous precision.

Following him as he tracked Jovie from afar.

“You were too consumed with revenge,” I say softly. “And too busy stalking the woman living in your playhouse. Which, by the way, was a gross use of the vacation home I spent months obsessively renovating.”

A smile ghosts across his lips when I glare at him. “I wasn’t stalking her.”

“Sebastian, you followed her around like a lost puppy. You even watched her sleep.”

He finally allows his full smile to play on his lips for the first time since me and Revel arrived here, and that’s when I see it—the love that made a god forget himself.

“I was drawn to her even before I knew why. In every timeline, in every version of events, something pulls me to her. I can’t help but wonder how many came before this one.

How many times have I found her, just for Myelle or anyone else on the Divine Council, to rip her out of my arms again and erase all signs of us? ”

I sigh, floating to sit on the edge of the roof. “I would have to hope they wouldn’t abuse their power like that.”

“You’d be a fool,” he mutters bitterly, and even though it feels sacrilegious to admit, I have to agree.

The Divine Council has been playing games longer than any one of us has realized. Treating us like puppets existing solely for their entertainment. Except maybe Erebus, who has slowly and deliberately been placing distance between himself and them for quite some time, now that I think of it.

How long has he sensed their corruption?

“I tried so many times to make you remember. I kept telling you about Aurelys, about our real lives. You thought I was delusional.”

“I thought you were a hallucination,” he admits, his voice lifting with humor. “A manifestation of my guilt for not protecting you better.”

“When have I ever needed your protection?” I nudge his shoulder, my arm passing halfway through his.

He laughs, but it fades quickly. “The council will never understand this, will they?”

“No,” I admit. “They see us as tools. Instruments of cosmic order. Our punishment was meant to teach us that very lesson. That we’re servants to the balance, not masters of it.”

“I don’t regret it,” he softly mutters. “Standing by your side. Defending the one you loved. I would do it all again.”

My chest aches at the sentiment. Even through our disagreements—our most explosive battles—Sebastian has been my only support system.

The only one willing to lay his life on the line for me without a second thought.

Revel has never understood our relationship.

No one has. But this is exactly why I’ve been hellbent on protecting what he has with Jovie, no matter how fleeting it is.

My response is barely above a whisper as I tuck my chin into my chest. “I only hope I’m able to return the favor.”

Silence stretches between us, comfortable in the way only siblings who have shared eternity could manage. The lights of the city below flicker like distant stars, so unlike the perpetual twilight of Umbraeth or the golden glow of Aurelys.

“I can’t go back to the way things were, Sienna.” His voice is quiet but resolute. “I can’t return without her.”

I start to argue, the words of duty and balance ready on my tongue, but he holds up his hand.

“Jovie is pregnant.”

The news hits me like a physical blow. I stare at him, momentarily unable to speak.

“That’s...impossible,” I finally manage, my voice breathy and my heart in my throat. “Gods and mortals can’t?—”

“Apparently, they can when the god is living as a mortal in a manipulated timeline.” His smile is both terrified and radiant. “Four months along. We just found out last week.”

I drift away from him, my mind racing.

A child .

My brother is going to have a child with a mortal woman.

The implications are staggering, the complications endless.

“The Divine Council will never allow this,” I whisper as if they can hear me from here.

“I know.” His voice hardens. “Jovie doesn’t realize how ruthless they are.

She thinks we can appeal to them, but I know what kind of monsters run those chambers.

Which is why I’m prepared to give up my godhood entirely if necessary.

To become fully mortal. To live one life with her and our child, and then. ..whatever comes after.”

“You can’t!” The words burst from me. “The balance?—”

“Will find another way,” he cuts in. “It always does. There was something maintaining Aurelys before me. There will be something there when I’m gone.”

I stare at my twin; this being I’ve known since before time had meaning. We came into existence together, two halves of the same cosmic force. Life and Death, intertwined and inseparable. Or so I thought.

“You would leave me to bear our punishment alone?” I ask, hating the vulnerability in my voice.

His face softens. “I would never ask that of you, Si. But I can’t go back now. Not with what’s at stake. I’ll find another way to serve the punishment. For both of us, if I have to.”

I drift to the edge of the roof again, looking out over the city. Somewhere down there is Revel, probably torturing himself about the best approach to take with the Divine Council. He has no idea he may end up with Aurelys after all.

And what would that mean for us? Life and Death, forever separated the same way me and my brother have been. I shove the thought away before it can consume me.

Somewhere down there is Jovie, carrying a miracle inside her.

And here is my brother, the God of Life himself, choosing love over duty. Choosing a mortal lifetime over eternity.

Something shifts inside me then. A decision forming, crystallizing with each passing moment. If Sebastian cannot return to his divine duties, if he must stay with Jovie and their child, then someone has to appease the council. Someone must maintain the balance.

Someone has to finish our punishment.

But it doesn’t have to be him.

I turn back to him, keeping my face carefully neutral. “When will you tell Jovie that you’re willing to become mortal for her?”

“Today,” he says. “Just before we leave to tell the Divine Council.”

I nod, as if considering this. As if I’m not already formulating a plan that would keep my brother with his love and child while satisfying the demands of cosmic order. If I’m going to lose everything, it might as well be for a good cause.

“The baby,” I say, trying to sound casual. “Will it be...like us?”

Sebastian runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Half-divine, at least. I can sense its light already. Strong. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before.”

Despite everything, I smile. Of course, the child of Life himself would radiate power even in the womb. My little niece or nephew is already barreling into the realms with purpose.

“I want you to be part of their life,” he says suddenly. “Whatever happens. However this plays out. You’re my sister. You should know your family.”

The words cut deeper than he knows. If my plan works, if the Divine Council accepts my offer, I won’t be able to visit another realm again. I’ll be bound to Umbraeth and the mortal realm, shepherding souls and maintaining balance for both of us until our punishment is complete.

But I can’t tell him that. Not yet.

“I’d like that,” I lie instead, my voice steady. “Though I’m not sure I’d make a good aunt. I’m not exactly warm and fuzzy.”

He laughs. “You’re warmer than you pretend to be. I’ve seen how you look at Jovie. Like you care about her happiness almost as much as I do.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoff, but there’s no bite to it. He’s right, after all. In my mortal life, Jovie had become my friend. The first mortal I’d truly cared about in centuries. Now, she’s family.

“And I’ve seen how you look at Revel,” he adds with a knowing smirk.

I’m grateful that spirits can’t blush. “Now you’re definitely being ridiculous.”

Sebastian stands, his divine nature making him glow slightly in the darkness. “Am I? It’s my job to notice these things. The way living things are drawn to each other. The potential for growth.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s officially not your job to do that anymore. At least, for me. And save the mystical observations for someone who hasn’t known you since the dawn of time.”

He reaches out, his hand passing through my shoulder in a gesture that would have been a squeeze if I were corporeal. “We’ll figure this out, Si. We always do.”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Because again, I’ll figure it out. I’ll bear the burden so he doesn’t have to. So his child can grow up with a father. So the woman he loves won’t lose him.

“I should get back to Jovie,” he says. “Will you come with me? She’s been anxious to tell you the news.”

“I need a moment,” I tell him. “Go ahead. I’ll be there soon.”

He nods, starting toward the door that leads back into the building.

“Sebastian?” I call after him.

He turns, silhouetted against the city lights. “Yes?”

“Congratulations,” I say softly. “You’re going to be an incredible father.”

His smile is worth every sacrifice I’m about to make.

As he disappears into the building, I turn back to the city, to the night, to the countless souls whose journeys between life and death have been my responsibility for eons. Soon, they will be mine alone to guide.