Page 8 of The Gods We Defy (All Gods Must Die #2)

CHAPTER 8

I wake to find Kestral across the room from me, dressed in a plain dark top and pants, and placing a tray of hot food and a jug of water on the table.

Quickly inspecting him for any injuries, I soon find none and the seed of worry that started to grow when he left instantly eases.

He turns to find me watching him and freezes. “You’re awake.”

Glad for the nightwear and clothes Asra found for me, I get out of bed, ignoring Kestral’s heated look as his gaze travels down my body. I take the new pile of clothes and move to the bathroom. I freshen up as quickly as I can and get dressed. I then move on to combing my now detangled hair from the long hot bath I had last night before plaiting it.

When I return, I find him leaning against the table, crossing his arms. His muscles bulge under the tight, dark top he wears, and I become fascinated by everything but him.

“Why are you here?” I ask.

“We need to talk.” His stern tone holds no room for disagreement. But my sharp tongue never did listen to reason.

“You mean about how you’re royalty? Or the truth of why you came to Findias? Or maybe about the gods?”

“About what happened after you were taken. Where were you?” he hisses, his jaw clenched in anger. “I couldn’t sense you. Veles couldn’t sense you. It was like you just disappeared.”

A warning pulse shoots through my brain. “It doesn’t matter.”

He takes a step forward. “Seren?—”

“What happened to the wall? Did the demons get through?” I ask, trying to quickly change the subject and hopefully ease the pain. But he doesn’t play along and keeps pushing.

“I can get you out of here. There’s still time. I’ll take you back to Findias right now. ”

My heart aches hearing the truth in his words. I would rather be anywhere but here.

I desperately want to see my mother. To see that she is safe and well, but my wishes and hopes will do nothing to get me out of the deal I made.

“It’s not an option.” Nausea churns inside my stomach, making me feel lightheaded.

I move closer to the food, passing him, but his hand reaches out and snatches my arm.

“What is—” He lifts it to him, his eyes instantly brimming with fury. “You’ve made a deal.”

I glance at the spot he’s looking at, the small swirl from the deal I made with Lord Cain, and I silently curse myself for being so foolish before yanking my hand back.

The pain in my head comes back with a bang, the pressure overwhelming. I try to think of anything else, but the dark look in Kestral’s eyes is a vivid reminder of it.

“If there was another…” I force out each word, but they cost me as the world spins around me. “I had… no choice.”

A drop of blood lands on my hand and I reach up to rub my temples as the shooting pain begins running down my face and jaw. It’s only then that I notice my ears are bleeding.

“Seren!” Kestral rushes forward and grabs me just before I fall, his eyes wide with panic and worry. “I’ll get a healer.”

“I can’t…” I start but stop as another spear of pain shoots through my head. “ Please stop asking. Talk about something else. Anything .”

“Just let me get a healer to check you over?—”

“What happened with the demons?” I ask, practically begging him to answer and change the subject as I try to focus on that to stop the pulsing pain in my head.

Kestral’s eyes don’t leave my face, but he answers immediately. “They didn’t breech the wall, and they will not get past it. Not as long as I’m here,” he vows.

I breathe through my nose and slowly release it. The nausea passes the more I focus on the Iron Wall and the demon attacks. “Do they attack often?”

The drops of blood stop and the room stops spinning.

Kestral frowns. “The attacks have been coming more frequently. They seem to be getting relentless.”

Realizing Kestral is practically holding me up, I stand and clear my throat, taking a step back from him and his musky, earthy scent that soothes something inside me. He releases me slowly, watching me like I might keel over at any moment.

The look on his face makes me pause. The fear. The worry. The panic. It’s as plain as day and I hate that I put it there. So I say the first thing that comes to mind.

“I’m guessing you did something to rile them. You have a way of getting under my skin. I can only imagine what you did to provoke them.”

It gets the reaction I was hoping for, clearing some of the panic from his face as he gives me the ghost of a smile. “I get under your skin?” His eyes warm as if it’s something he enjoys the thought of.

I nod, wearing a deadpan expression. “Like fungus.”

He chuckles at my silly joke and it’s only for a moment, but it’s enough to clear the final threads of worry and fear from his face before he grows serious once again. “The gods know something is coming. They can all feel it.”

“It’s not because of the trials?” I ask as the pressure in my head slowly eases.

He shakes his head, watching me intently. “The trials happen every few years. We can’t be positive they’re not aware of them. But measures have been put in place to ensure if they ever came across them, they would go unnoticed.” He moves to the bathroom and comes back with a wet cloth and hands it to me.

I thank him and clean the blood off my neck and ears. The headache completely eases and along with it comes some clarity with his words.

“The fae joining in on the trials wasn’t a coincidence, was it?”

The edges of his mouth lift as a pleasant surprise fills his eyes. “No. But they’ve grown into something else now.”

“I heard the trials are brutal.”

He nods. “The trials have become… unstable. The winnings have grown over the years. The titles and power have become something many are willing to kill for.”

It makes sense they would evolve on their own. What I’ve seen of the fae lands has shown me how desperate people may be and how far they may be willing to go for power.

I glance up at Kestral and the hesitant expression he now wears.

“Oryn and… Nevan are here,” he says.

I freeze, thinking I’ve misheard him, but the look he gives me tells me I haven’t. My mouth goes dry. “They were chosen?”

He replies with a nod, but my mind is running away with itself. Why would Oryn choose to come here willingly? Does he realize what being in the trials means?

“By whom?” I ask. “Who chose them?” My heart races in temper. Surely, they didn’t choose to come here. There has to be a reason. Something I’m missing.

Kestral frowns at me. “Me, Asra, and Cyra.”

The thump, thump of my heart grows louder in my ears. “Why would you… Did you tell them what the trials are? Did you tell them it could mean their death?”

Kestral grows solemn. “Just like you, they’re aware of the dangers involved. I promise you they did not come into this blind.”

I release a harsh breath and try to wrap my mind around why they would choose to come here. To an extent, I understand Nevan’s choice. He lost his wife the last time I saw him. There may have been nothing left for him in Findias, and he might have seen this as a way out. But Oryn… He had a life back in Findias. A family and friends.

“Seren—”

“Why them?” I ask. “Out of every other Sidus and Caligo, why did you choose them?”

Kestral frowns, as if trying to figure out where I was going with this. “We saw potential.”

“To become the Godkiller?” I ask, and he blanches at the word but slowly nods.

“Why them?” They’re good fighters. Oryn more so than Nevan, but no more than a dozen others I know with the same level of ability and skill. So why did he pick them?

Kestral stays silent before his eyes flash, as if just realizing something.

“And not you?” Anger slashes across his face. “Is that what you’re asking? Are you asking me why we didn’t pick you?”

My back goes ramrod straight at his foolish assumption. “I don’t care that you didn’t choose me for another foolish trial I could not care less about,” I grit out. “I want to know why? I want to know what potential it is you saw.”

He drags a hand down his face with a sigh and the tension that seeped into his body a moment ago at his foolish thought slowly eases, along with the bulk of his anger.

“You’re a great fighter, Seren. Exceptional, in fact, but there are no other signs. I would not have brought you here. Ever .”

Signs? “What signs did Oryn and Nevan show?” I push, needing to know how they chose, when a thought pops into my mind, making my heart race once more.

Did he tell them? Did Oryn tell him his secret? Is that the potential he’s speaking of…

Kestral says silent, unwilling to say any more. But I think I already have my answer. And if I’m right, it means I might have also ended up here, anyway.

I look at Kestral and my anger deflates as I realize what I’m about to do. What I’m about to reveal. The Caligo guards would have killed me instantly for what I’m about to say. But he is going to find out as soon as the trials start, anyway. He would see it himself.

“He told you, didn’t he?” I ask, and Kestral frowns in confusion. “About their dual powers.”

Kestral’s frown deepens, his eyes filling with a hint of suspicion. “How did you?—”

“Because they’re not the only ones,” I tell him.

It must finally hit him what I’m trying to say, because his eyes widen in horror. The look on his face shakes me to my core.

“No,” he breathes, and takes a stumbling step back from me.

I reach out to him, but he flinches back from my touch. “Kestral?”

He looks into my eyes, and I see the absolute devastation in his. But I don’t understand it. I’m already stuck here. There’s nothing he could have done to get me out.

It takes a moment, but seconds later he shuts down his emotions, expressionless. He becomes that blank canvas I’ve come to despise so much.

He swallows hard, his face growing pale as he avoids looking me in the eye. “The first trial begins in just under three weeks. Asra, Veles, and… I will help train you throughout your time here.”

My chest grows tight. “I don’t need?—”

“You have your mask?” he asks, glancing around the room, looking everywhere but at me.

“Yes.”

“Wear it any time you leave this room,” he orders before moving to the door. He pauses for a moment with his back to me as if he wants to say more, but thinks better of it and disappears down the hall, leaving me with far more questions than answers once again.