Page 29 of The Immortal’s One (Bound to the Immortals #1)

“This really does look like Thane.” I lean forward, squinting at the marble bust in the mansion’s art gallery on the fourth floor.

My voice sounds too normal. Too light. Like I’m trying to convince myself I’m fine.

But the truth is, my chest still aches. Not from whatever… that was back in my room—but from the endless questions that followed. The not-knowing. The fear that whatever happened is going to happen again.

I wrap my arms tightly around myself, pretending I’m just cold. Pretending the memory of that pain hasn’t burrowed into my bones.

I force a bit of levity into my tone and add, “The sculptor captured his disapproving frown perfectly.”

“Stop.” Bella laughs despite the jab at her husband. “You know Thane is handsome.”

I roll my eyes, earning another laugh, before moving on to the next bust, perched on a waist-high white pillar. The polished stone gleams in the soft light, not a speck of dust on it—not even in the deep crease along the subject’s nose.

The Immortals who work here do an impeccable job.

It’s been four days since I crashed the Original Nine’s meeting, and things between me and every Immortal aside from Bella are as tense as ever, but I refuse to let their silence get to me. I’ve developed a loose routine to pass my time.

I start each day talking to my dad. To not alert anyone in the mansion that I have my phone, we communicate through text. Dad’s confirmed that he’s feeling great—better than he has in months. He jokes it’s thanks to the crisp, clean Maine air. I can’t tell him the truth.

Lome kept his word. He cured Dad’s cancer.

The elusive Immortal admitted as much when he came to apologize for how things went down at the meeting two days ago.

In hindsight, I should have used the opportunity to ask Lome to explain things that were said in the Immortals’ meeting; things that occupy my thoughts, delaying my sleep by hours each night.

Like the accusation that Lome, Thane, and Des thrive off human suffering… or Eshe’s pointed remarks about how she’s been treated since joining the family.

I should have asked Lome to help me understand. Instead, I’d pressed him for an update on Dad’s health, prepared to demand he follow through on our deal.

But he took the wind out of my angry sails when he confirmed that he’d already visited Dad and healed every cancerous cell in his body.

Happiness overwhelmed me, and I’d burst into tears.

Lome, apparently not used to emotions, had stood there, looking like he wanted to sink into the floor .

I won’t know for sure if Lome told me the truth and Dad’s completely cured until he goes back to the doctor for an updated scan, but given the fact Dad says he’s feeling better, I’m hopeful.

So, hopeful, in fact, that I’ve hit pause on coming up with a backup plan to escape the mansion. For now, I believe Lome kept his word. I plan to keep mine and stay put.

It helps that I have my phone. I can talk to Dad and Kayla.

And let’s not forget Kevin…

I tuck my chin to my chest as I walk down the aisle of marble busts, hoping Bella misses how my cheeks warm when I think of my childhood crush.

Kevin’s and my conversations are short, but they’re… sweet. We joke, bring up random childhood memories, and he’s always mentioning plans for when I come back to Maine, saying how eager he is to take me on a date.

Sometimes, I can hardly believe this is real.

I’ve spent so long pining after the boy-turned-guy of my dreams… it was almost easier to accept the existence of Immortals than to accept Kevin feels the same way about me.

Almost.

“This bust looks different from the others.” I stop in front of a statue of a beautiful woman with delicate features, her face softer and more serene than the ones I’d seen prior. “Is this yours?”

Bella joins me at my side with a chuckle. “Yes, that’s me. It was made a century after the others. After I joined the family.”

“Ah.” I nod, walking to the next bust. I stop in front of one with sharp feminine features and cool elegance—Eshe’s. “You know, I never thought about it before, but now that I’m comparing these to actual people… it’s a little freaky seeing you without eyeballs.”

Bella smiles. “Did you know that the original Grecian busts that these are styled after were painted? Even their eyes?”

“I did, actually.” Growing up with a dad who studied ancient cultures meant I learned many ‘fun facts’ about history, including art.

I glance around the room, taking in the dozen or so other statues lining the walls. They’re not all busts. Some are full-body sculptures, standing proudly, their details smooth and precise.

“Are these all made to look like someone?” I gesture to the different statues.

Bella follows my gaze. “Most are favored lesser Immortals. For a time, Thane, Lome, or Des would commission statues as a gift—an acknowledgment of loyalty.”

I walk down the row of statues, noting subtle details that must depict some aspect of that Immortal’s power or personality. A blooming rose in a female’s palm. A man gripping a bolt of lightning in his armored hand. Some appear larger than life, others more subtle.

The shadow of the past hovers over me as I study them; these figures who have lived through events I’ll only ever read about.

What would living through the most pivotal moments in history be like? To see civilizations rise and fall? To witness the artistic and intellectual revolutions throughout human existence?

I’ve read enough fantasy novels to know how easy it is to romanticize the idea of immortality. These Immortals lived through so much. It’s impossible not to want to know more about their lives.

Almost every human civilization believed in some higher power. Religions formed, centered around the worship or reverence of one or more gods and goddesses.

Who knows? Maybe the ancient religions did get their inspiration from real Immortals—from Thane, Lome, and others.

“How often do Immortals interact with humans?” My mind paints the picture of Evetta inspiring myths about jealous goddesses who punish humans for perceived slights.

“A fair amount,” Bella says, not bothered by my sudden question.

She’s used to me asking random questions out of the blue.

“Though, the Original Nine enforce rules to keep our existence a secret. There are slip-ups from time to time, but overall, most Immortals have no problem concealing their true identities from humans.”

“How many Immortals are there?”

Bella shrugs. “I don’t know the exact number, but it's in the hundreds.”

Wow. “It’s amazing they’re all able to stay hidden.” Almost everyone has a cell phone these days and can record and take photos of everything at anytime, anywhere.

“We blend in well.”

My eyes dip and take in the pretty sundress hanging off Bella’s narrow shoulders. She’s right. If I saw her out in the world, I’d have no idea she was an Immortal being who shared power with her Immortal husband.

“Has someone ever noticed the fact that you don’t age?” I wonder.

“Of course, but we can use our powers to conceal our true faces.” Bella glides down the row of lesser Immortal statues, pausing in front of one depicting a woman holding a harp with faint lines carved around her mouth.

She tilts her head, considering it, then adds, “But I prefer to avoid places after visiting for a decade or two just to stay under the radar.”

I walk down the aisle on the other side of the statues. “What places do you visit when you go to cities?”

“Church, mostly.”

I stop in my tracks. “You still go to church?”

“Of course.” She glances up at me, her expression mild. Her eyes shift back to the statue. “Why wouldn’t I?”

I recall the story about how she met her Immortal husband. “Wasn’t your faith shaken when you first learned what Thane is?”

Bella's gaze turns distant, as if the question pulls her into another time. “Of course. I was raised in a religious home. When I first learned the brothers existed, when I saw their powers, it made me question everything I had ever believed.”

A trace of vulnerability enters her voice as she looks back at me.

“I cried to Thane night after night. I felt so confused… so lost … But then he told me something that helped me come to terms with my new reality.”

I tilt my head to the side. “What was it?”

“‘My fellow Immortals and I may influence mankind, but we did not create the world, and we did not create ourselves.’” She smiles, her expression both wistful and serene. “The others call the divine entity the Creator, but to me, that’s still just the Christian God I grew up believing in.”

I press my lips together, absorbing her words. It’s as reasonable an explanation as any. The world is a strange and unfathomable place, and sometimes, the simplest beliefs are the ones that offer the most comfort .

“That’s… understandable.” I eventually say.

“Indeed. Recognize any of these?” Bella changes the subject, walking over to a glass case resting against the wall between the gallery windows.

I join her and peer inside, shifting my view as sunlight glints off the clear surface. Free from the glare, I look at five miniature portraits resting on a plush purple velvet cushion.

“Is that Adir?” I point to the blond man in the first portrait. He has a striking resemblance to the frustrated, borderline-aggressive Immortal I met only days ago.

“Yes.”

Even in the painting, the Immortal’s arrogance is easy to see. “Do you trust him?”

Adir is essentially the God of War. Call me judgmental, but my gut says someone who gains strength from violence and destruction might not be the most honorable.

“I do trust him,” Bella’s answers without pause. “Adir can be intense, but he understands the importance of maintaining order. He wouldn’t want to destabilize the way things are done.”

I’m not so sure, but then again, I know nothing about the complex web of immortal politics.

My gaze drifts to the next portrait, and my breath catches.

Des.