Page 6 of Gods of Prey (Parallel Prey #3)

This is where I have to be careful. I can’t tell Revel that Sebastian has manipulated the timeline, that he’s reset it once already to save Jovie’s life, that we're all now living in an altered version of reality where he’s managed to save both her and our mortal father.

“I believe he’s forgotten,” I say instead. “Sometimes, after a particularly traumatic death, memories of our divine nature can become clouded. He’s immersed himself so completely in his mortal identity that he may genuinely not remember who he truly is.”

It’s not entirely a lie. Sebastian has indeed buried his divine consciousness beneath his mortal identity. It’s just that he did it deliberately, not as an accident of trauma.

Revel frowns, clearly concerned. “That’s never happened before.”

“We’ve never lived a life quite like that before,” I counter.

Revel seems to accept this explanation. “Then we need to go to him. Remind him of who he is.”

“Agreed,” I say, moving back toward the center of the room. “But there’s a complication. I can’t take physical form in the mortal realm so soon after my death there.”

“Why not?”

“The rules of our punishment,” I remind him, twirling my finger in the air dramatically. “Sebastian and I must live each mortal life fully, and die natural deaths. If I were to return in physical form so soon after my death and the Divine Council found out, it could violate those terms.”

He pouts, confused. “So what are you suggesting? That I go alone?”

I shake my head. “I can manifest as a spirit. Invisible to most, but present. I can observe, gather information.” I leave out that I’ve already done this. Before Sebastian pretended to be God of Time and altered timelines. “You, however...”

“I need to get close to him,” Revel finishes, understanding dawning. “Take mortal form and befriend him.”

“Precisely.” I smile, but there’s no warmth in it. “No divine powers, no special abilities. Just a regular human trying to befriend a billionaire CEO who happens to be the amnesiac God of Life.”

“And you’ll be what? A ghost following me around?” Revel’s tone makes it clear what he thinks of that arrangement.

“I’ll be your eyes and ears where you cannot go,” I correct coolly. “Unless you have a better plan?”

Revel’s silence is answer enough. He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like having to work with me, doesn’t like the idea of me watching his every move. But he knows it’s our best option.

“Fine,” he says finally. “When do we leave?”

“Immediately,” I say. “The longer he stays away, the more the balance will suffer.”

And I’ve already wasted a week.

Revel nods curtly and moves to a cabinet at the far end of the study. From it, he withdraws a crystal vial filled with golden liquid—essence of Aurelys, which will allow him to maintain some semblance of a connection to his power while in mortal form. Just enough to mask his true appearance.

“I’ll prepare for the transition,” he says, not looking at me. “Meet me at the veil in an hour.”

“Don’t be late,” I reply, turning to leave. “And Revel?”

He looks up, wariness in his eyes.

“While we’re in the mortal realm, remember that I may be in spirit form, but I am still the Goddess of Death. Cross me, and you’ll discover just how much power I retain, even as a ghost.”

I don’t wait for his response before dissolving into shadow, letting the currents between realms carry me back to Umbraeth. I need to speak with Erebus, to confirm that he can maintain order in my absence.

As I materialize in my own palace, I allow myself a moment of doubt. Am I doing the right thing, keeping Sebastian’s timeline manipulation secret from Revel? From the Divine Council?

But then I remember the look on my brother’s face when he found Jovie again in this new timeline. The pure joy, the love that transcended divinity itself. In thirty-three lifetimes, I’ve never seen him so happy.

Still, duty is duty. The balance must be maintained.

Sebastian knew the terms of our punishment when we began.

Fifty mortal lifetimes to atone for our transgressions.

We’re only thirty-three in. Thirty-four if you consider the one he reset.

The Divine Council will not be lenient if they discover his defiance.

I have to remember that.

I find Erebus in the Hall of Transitions, overseeing the arrival of newly deceased souls. Tall and austere, he’s been an efficient interim ruler in my absence. He can handle a couple more weeks.

“I’ll be leaving again,” I inform him without preamble. “Revel and I are going to retrieve Sebastian.”

He raises a single elegant eyebrow. “This should be interesting.”

Dropping my gaze, I refuse to acknowledge how much of a disaster I know this will be. “Can you maintain order here while I’m gone?”

“Of course,” he says, his deep voice resonating in the cavernous hall. “But I’ve just spoken to a friend in Nytheris. The council is watching. They’ve sensed the disturbance.”

My steps falter and my teeth dig into my bottom lip as I consider my next words. Erebus has been a devoted disciple of the Divine Council forever. Regardless of our close relationship, putting him in a position to defy them would not end well for me.

“What should we do about that?” I gently ask.

His thin lips tighten into a straight line, brows set in determination. “I’ll do what I can to hold them off for you, but it won’t last long. You have a week, tops.”

A week . I can handle another week. That’s nearly a year in mortal time.

I don’t bother hiding my shock. “Why are you doing this? If they find out what we’ve done, they’ll rip Umbraeth away from me and give it right to you. Isn’t that what you want?”

His chest rumbles with a deep, ancient- sounding chuckle.

“I was alive eons before you. They offered dominion over Umbraeth on many occasions. I didn’t want it then, and I don’t want it now.

Besides”—He reaches between us, lightly rapping his fist against my upper arm in an uncharacteristically friendly way—“I like what you’ve done with the place. ”

A soft smile slips through my hard mask, but I make quick work of wiping it away. Erebus may have strong loyalties toward the members of the Divine Council, but we’ve formed a close friendship over time that I don’t think they anticipated.

“Keep them at bay as long as you can,” I instruct, sobering my features. “If they ask, tell them I’m personally investigating the matter.”

Erebus studies me with those unnerving eyes. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

I meet his gaze steadily. “There are many things I don’t tell you, Erebus.”

He inclines his head, accepting the rebuke. “How long will you be gone?”

“As long as it takes,” I reply, already turning away. “I’ll return when Sebastian does.”

As I prepare for the journey to the mortal realm, gathering the essence of Umbraeth that will sustain me in spirit form, I try to ignore the unease settling in my chest. Working with Revel, the man who has always seen me as nothing but a cold, unfeeling obstacle to his friendship with my brother.

Being forced into a partnership with someone who despises everything I represent.

This is going to be a nightmare.

But for Sebastian, I’ll endure it. I’ll endure Revel’s self-righteousness, the limitations of spirit form, even the garish brightness of the mortal realm.

Because despite what Revel believes, I do love my brother. And I will not let him destroy himself for the sake of a mortal woman—no matter how special she might be.

An hour later, I meet Revel at the veil between realms. He’s dressed in simple mortal clothing. Dark jeans, a gray sweater, a black coat. His wings are gone.

I’ve never seen him without them. He looks off balance without the two amber peaks at his back. and his divine radiance has been dimmed to pass as human, though there’s still something about him that will undoubtedly draw attention. The interim God of Life can only hide so much of his nature.

“Ready?” he asks, not bothering with pleasantries.

“Delighted to be working with you too,” I reply sarcastically. “Yes, I’m ready.”

Revel gives me one last look of barely concealed disdain before activating the gateway. Light spills through the opening. Not the golden radiance of Aurelys, but the harsher, more artificial light of the mortal realm.

“After you,” he says, gesturing to the portal.