Page 26 of Rise of the Gods: Vardor’s Destiny (Time for Monsters)

I diot! I cursed myself. Stupid fucking idiot!

Roweena lay motionless on the bed where I put her after she fainted. From shock. From what I had done. What I had forced her to do. I wished I could pummel the wall some more, but I was afraid to call more attention to us. Besides, it wouldn't have done me any good—other than destroying the ship—I didn't feel any pain.

I filled a glass of water and brought it over to Roweena just as a soft moan escaped her. Idiot! I repeated my self-chastisement. The only excuse I had was that passion had simply taken me away. Holding her, kissing her, touching her after all this time, the real her, had been too much. It had clouded my mind, and I forgot I was holding Roweena, the virgin, not Vaelora, the goddess, in my arms.

"Here." Gently, I moved her into a sitting position. Her eyelids fluttered, and long, dark lashes, looking like tiny wings, opened, exposing the magnificent sight of her sapphire blue eyes.

"You're not... hurt," she rasped. Holding on to me.

I shook my head. "Mortals can't hurt me."

She blinked a few more times, and a tiny tear formed in her left eye, making the color even more luminous before slowly rolling down her cheek. I wanted to catch it, but I was supporting her with one hand and holding the stupid glass of water in the other.

"How?" she pressed out.

I tilted the glass, "Drink."

She shook her head, and with a sigh, I placed it on the nightstand, finally able to catch the tear before it rolled the rest of the way down her cheek. I held the teardrop on my finger as if it was the most precious thing in the world. And to me it was. Vaelora had never cried. Goddesses don't cry.

"I'm sorry," I said, words I had never said before in my life. I had never been sorry for anything I had done, but I was sorry for having frightened her, for making her cry.

"How?" she repeated her original question.

"You made me into a god, thousands of years ago," I explained, preparing myself for her abject rejection of my words like she had done before. But it didn't come. There was only wonder and curiosity in her expression.

"You're not crazy?"

A chuckle rose in my chest, but it died down, still weighted by guilt. I shook my head. "No."

I gave her a moment to digest my words.

"But I'm not... I'm not a... goddess." She argued.

"You are, and you're not. The goddess is inside you," I tried again, encouraged by her receptiveness. "She allowed herself to be born as a mortal. As you. She is you. You are her."

I heard my own words, yet they were hard for even me to accept. How could I expect her to understand when I was grappling with it myself? I had just proven that I couldn't reconcile the two the same way I couldn't distinguish them.

"So we're going to Cairo, where... where you'll do something so I'll remember? And then she'll be back?"

Her statement was simplifying it, but, "Yes, in essence."

"But... " She lowered her eyes to her hands, "but what will happen to me ?"

"You will still be there," I said, hoping I wasn't lying. I had loved Vaelora with all my being, still did, but this mortal woman in front of me... she was making me fall in love with her , too.

"Will I?" Her voice was so small, and she looked so fragile, I pulled her against my chest.

"You will. I swear. You will still be you, just with the memories of what was." I wasn't sure what I would do if I were wrong. I couldn't be wrong.

I pulled up what lightness I could and said, "So you see, you don't need those mortal priests to bless our union. You are free to do whatever you please."

"Free?" How was it possible to put so many emotions into one word? But there it was—hope, dread, longing, disbelief, and something fragile beneath it all.

I heard the weight of a life spent bound by expectations, a lifetime where her choices had never truly been her own. I heard fear—of the unknown, of losing herself, of being trapped in yet another cage, even if this one was gilded with love. I heard longing—for something she had never dared to dream of, something just out of reach. And I heard hesitation, as if she wanted to believe me but could not quite allow herself to.

She had never been free. Not in her father's house, not with the man she was meant to marry, and not even now, in my arms.

But she wanted to be. And I wanted to give her that. But could I if it meant losing her?

This time, you will have to wake me. Vaelora's words echoed inside my head. If I wanted to free Vaelora, I couldn't allow Roweena to choose. And if I allowed Roweena to choose, I could lose Vaelora. Forever.

It was an impossible choice. Would you rather burn to death or bathe in acid ? No, I would have rather been given that choice. Worst of all, I couldn't allow myself to be weak in front of Roweena, to let her see my doubts.

"Free to do as I please?" Her voice had taken on a dreamlike resonance.

"If it makes you feel better, I will bind myself by mortal laws to you," I promised, "I will do anything you want me to. I'm yours, Roweena—always have been, always will be. You're mine, yes, but more than anything, I am yours."

"Mine." She repeated dreamily. A small laugh escaped her. "You are a god. You can do whatever you want."

"So are you," I reminded her.