Page 31 of Immortal Sun (Dark Olympus)

CHAPTER 31

CYRUS

“One should not ask more than would be thought fitting.”– Króka-Refs Saga, ch.10

C heckers. How basic and simple. She teaches me the rules while I try to ignore the pulsing in my chest. She’s so pretty, I want to hate her.

And again, unafraid even though her death literally looms over her like a dark stormy cloud.

Maybe she’s come to terms with it, just like I have. This beautiful human will be sacrificed for the greater good.

“Your move.” She grins up at me after taking another one of my checkers.

Damn it.

I skip over one of hers and preen. “Done.”

Her laughter fills the cave as she jumps my checkers twice and collects them like a monster!

“Wait! Isn’t that illegal?”

“Nope.” Her face is pure gloating.

I hate losing. I never lose. What the hell?

She practically beams down at me. “Perfectly within the rules of checkers.”

“You’re lying!” I jump to my feet. “You’re cheating!”

“Am not!” She puts her hands on her hips. “Ask Dag!”

Daggon looks over us from the rock wall and holds up his hands. “I’m just the help.”

I glare at him.

He drops his hands and gives me his back again.

I adjust my robe and sit back on the bed. “Again.”

“You haven’t lost yet.”

Slowly, I lift my head and glare at her. “Yes, but by my calculations I can’t win.”

She shrugs a shoulder and smiles. “See? And aren’t you having fun? Maybe checkers can be your thing.”

I lean back and cross my arms. “Or maybe I make you think you’re drowning in a sea of checkers for beating me.”

She tosses a checker towards me. I duck. “That’s creepy, even for you.”

“I’m not creepy,” I say defensively. “Let’s play again.”

“Did you want me to hold back or?—”

“Finish that sentence and I’m telling the panther that you’re a steak. Trust me when I say she’s very aggressive with her food.”

She recoils and then crosses her arms. “Fine, you set up the board.”

I move all the checkers back to their spots and allow myself to go first.

My pride gets hurt again and again until finally I can’t take it anymore.

I’ve lost seven times.

I throw the board onto the ground and kick it for good measure. “It’s a stupid game.”

“It’s just a game.” Cleo stands up. “Clearly, you’re not used to playing for fun.”

“Fun.” I laugh. If she only knew. “I don’t think I really know what that word is anymore.”

Cleo bends over and starts picking up the checkers. When she’s finished, she sets them on the bed, then approaches. She must have a death wish with the way my dark mood is affecting me.

If she gives me a pep talk, I just might kill her.

“What else do I need to know about Dag?” she asks. I hate the question immediately. I hate what we’re doing. I hate so much that it burns my throat and fills my blood with boiling rage. Why we ever decided to gift the children of Chaos a boon is beyond me. I understand it was so they could have something to look forward to. They never asked for this. But now? I hate it. I hate it like the fire of my millions of burning suns.

What if Daggon is who she chooses? I guess he’d be better than Inti.

Enki as well.

I clear my throat and keep my arms crossed to stop myself from doing something stupid like touch her again, kiss her, hold her like she means something when she’s nothing. “He’s playful, dumb, easy.”

“He can hear you!” Dag yells without turning around.

I smirk and say in a low voice. “I’m well aware of that.”

“Jackass.”

“Say it louder,” I call.

“Benevolent god, Lord of the Skies, Master, blah, blah, blah, blah…amen.” Dag says in a bored tone that actually has me smiling. Things have been less boring since Cleo came, and it pains me to admit that living from one sacrifice to another hasn’t been enjoyable. Miserable. Painful. Frustrating. And now I’m finally smiling. Now I finally feel my own sun radiating from within all because of the last one I have to kill and the way she tugs the joy from my soul.

Everyone has their job. That’s why Dag chose the police station, it’s why I own the pubs and a few ships. We need something to keep us busy since money is no object.

No, we deal with time and power; those are the only commodities—well that and the spilled blood.

“He’s insolent.” I turn to Cleo. “You’d get along well, I think if you choose him, but we still have training for the next two, and Enki, well…” I trail off there. The idiot is going to try to feed her the entire time, cry, then feed her again.

It will be a crazy emotional cycle of her constantly comforting him while he comforts her.

“That sounds weird,” she says.

I frown. “Did I say all of that out loud?”

“You’ve been distracted since losing to me.” She tilts her head and grins. Then that same smile falters when I grab her by the waist and jerk her against me. “Maybe you should see it the way I do.”

The way her lips part and the sound of that small exhale nearly undo me. “And how’s that?”

I lower my head until my mouth touches hers and whisper, “I’m actually winning, because it’s me holding you right now, not the gods. Pick whoever you want, I don’t give a shit, but if I could ask one favor.”

I cup her neck gently, and I know I’m not gentle, it’s not in my character. It’s always black and white, life or death, but I need this moment.

She doesn’t pull away from me in fear, she’s still under me. “What do you want?”

“To pretend,” I say with so much shame that I almost can’t ask. “I need to pretend for just a few seconds.”

“What are we pretending?” She draws back and gazes at my face. I know my eyes are still black; it was the only protection I could give myself while my heart continues to thaw from her presence.

Something ugly.

Something terrifying.

Something that would push her away in fear.

“Kiss me like you would a man, not an angry immortal sun,” I whisper. “Just once. Think of it like another contract.”

“Just because you’re Ra doesn’t mean you aren’t still fully man.”

I almost laugh. “I wish that were true.”

“But you have—” She stops herself. “You look like a man, just a really large one with…spears and fire for eyes.”

Another laugh rises, but I squash it. Instead, I think I’m disappointed that she didn’t jump at the chance to kiss me but rather chose to argue.

She leans in, but I break away from her, dropping my hands to my sides and shake my head at her. “I am nothing like you’ve seen.”

“I saw the armor, I saw all of you,” she says. “You burn.”

I shake my head and walk out of the cave and stand on the sand, facing the sea. “You want to truly know?”

Her chin dips in a nod.

“Remember that you asked for this.” I say against the wind.

Dag takes one look at my black eyes and starts to run up the stairs.

Good, he should run. It’s best to remind people of who you are, create that fear again.

I snap my fingers then look up at her, eyes blazing with orange flames begging to singe the world yet forced to keep it feeling warm and safe.

My bronze skin glows in the moonlight as if I’ve dusted the very stars I helped create across it.

“You want to see!” I roar, my voice rumbles in my chest. Then I stand. My robe falls to the side. I’m completely naked, worshiping the sky, holding my hands out as my hair falls past my hips. I am the Lord of the Sky, I am the Sun, I am Him.

Hieroglyphics appear up and down my arms, my neck, and finally one on each cheek, illuminating golden light from each of the glowing symbols.

Cleo gapes and then falls to her knees, watching me. Worship the sun and darkness will eventually fade into oblivion—worship the darkness and you’ll cease to see the light.

I know what I look like, my eyes are glowing, strands of my hair look like they’re on fire, my mouth is searing hot.

For I am Ra.

Creator of worlds. Destroyer of Chaos.

I spread my arms wide. “What do you see?”

Tears flow down Cleo’s cheeks. Her whisper would nearly be impossible to hear if I wasn’t who I am. “A god.”

I cross my arms in front of her and draw a sword in each hand, both covered in fire. My eyes don’t leave hers. “Are you afraid?”

She reaches for me, her hand dirty from pressing it against the ground. It’s been a long time since a human has looked at me this way; with both near worship and fear. She gets to her feet. “Come.”

“You dare to order me?”

“You dare not follow?” She lifts her chin.

Nostrils flaring, swords still in my hands, I march into the cave and face her, the way I was made, nothing covers me except for the golden plates of armor barely lining my hips.

I stand in front of her, unaware of what she could possibly want from me and why she’s not screaming and hiding in the cave.

She’s trembling as she reaches for me…then hesitates…then reaches for me again. I go willingly. I see heaven in her eyes, I see depths, I see hope for a future without Chaos without chasing, I see a future with peace.

I sink.

Like a stone getting thrown into the water, I fall into its depths and let the currents drag me down.

I will kill her in a few days.

She knows this.

I know this.

There is no alternative with the laws of the universe, but she still treats me with gentle hands. “I think I’ll kiss you now.”

“Why?”

Cleo’s eyes fill with tears. “Maybe I want to drown in your flames, just once.”

My self-control is gone. I grab her by the hips and pull her against me, kissing her so deep and hard my mouth almost hurts. My armor slams against her hips with a thud.

She grips me by the hair and holds on while our mouths meet. She tastes like the cooling rain, like a thunderstorm in the spring followed by flowers.

A tear slides down my cheek before I even realize what’s happening. I toss her into the bed and follow her down then kiss her deeper. I let myself drown and pull her into the depths with me.

She follows willingly into the heat of my arms.

“Come,” I rasp, cupping her face. My eyes burn into hers and then I draw her in. I pull her into the very thing I’ve warned her of.

With a gasp she goes limp, her eyes white, and I bring her with me into the very flames that I created with.

I give her my breath as we fall beneath the heat and into the cooling water, I tug her deeper and deeper still kissing her.

She clings to me as a hurricane of currents spins us around, until stillness falls around us. There is no sound in the water, there is no pain, there is only us.

No death.

No sacrifice.

We have water.

We have life.

When I pull away, Cleo starts to panic, so I kiss her again, and again. I give her the very breath of life from my lips until she wants nothing but me. The water slowly recedes as we float to the surface.

We’re back in the cave, she heaves out a gasp “What was that?”

“Me,” I say simply, “drowning in your own personal flame of chaos.”

Tears fill her eyes. “I thought you were going to kill me.”

“It felt like death a bit.” I steal another kiss from her swollen lips. “But what good is kissing if you don’t feel like you might actually die a thousand times to experience it?”

I shouldn’t find her frown adorable.

I shouldn’t move my hands to her thighs and spread them wide. And I sure as hell should not be showing her how to please other gods as I rip her clothes apart and my head descends between her thighs.

She grips me by the hair again. I take it as encouragement as my tongue coats with more than just water.

I taste her.

And the only thought I have is this: Has the sky really been my home? Or has it been here this entire time?

The fire in my soul roars, her ice cools it just enough to keep me in control, but I know I’m close to losing my grasp on my purpose.

Her ankles hook around my body or attempt to. She moves like the flames against my tongue. Hot. Needy. I keep sucking and licking until I feel like I might be devouring her whole.

Maybe it should have always been this way, the gods worshiping the humans, the humans showing the gods what reality truly is.

I’m fixated on her mouth.

“More!” She’s yelling other things too, but I’m so lost in what I’m doing that all I can hear is the word “more” and my name, “Cyrus!”

I know Daggon knows what’s going on; this is not how preparing a sacrifice typically goes. Normally we instruct, we put fear in them a bit, and then they start to think how they want their ending. Never, has it ever gone this way.

I instruct. I give her a choice before her sacrifice, and we move on to the next person that needs to be found. This was the hardest trial of my existence—and that was before her mouth met mine. That was before her soul tried to reach out. That was before she actually touched sunshine and didn’t jerk away—no, Cleo embraced the burn and begged for more.

But right now, I just want to move inside her, to feel her thighs clench tightly around me, for her to say my real name, to whisper “Ra” in my ear, and truly want me for what I am and who I am even if that means right now, I feel like a monster.

She falls apart against my tongue, I taste, I devour, I eat.

Panting, I pull away so hard that my armor is protesting.

Her eyes are blurry when she looks at me, her lips parted, her legs still open wide.

I pull away and give her my back. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the last two trainings and then we’ll attend the festival.”

“Wait—”

I walk away.

I walk out of that cave.

I’m undone. What has she done? Who am I? What am I doing?

I keep walking. My feet dig into the sand. I stare up at the moon. And finally, I see the stars shine down.

Another tear spills. This wasn’t supposed to be how it ends.

Daggon says nothing, but I can sense he wants to in the way he’s watching me, and when I step on the first cement stair to go back to the manor he whispers. “Your death, Ra. Mine too.”

I’m hollow.

Broken.

A needy weak god that wants nothing but to run back into that cave and save her , not the world.

I lower my head and keep walking while the waves crash against the sand, and in the corner of my eye, I spot a giant tentacle reaching into the sky like it wants the stars and slams onto the ocean.

“I know,” I whisper. “I know.”

I swear I can hear Ken say, “No, ancient one, you have no idea what is coming.”