Page 6 of Until the End of Ever (To the Cruel Gods #2)

LUCIAN

I f anyone prompted me to explain why I was so disgusted by Zenya Pendros, I would have lied. I would have blamed her job, or her family of vulgar arrivistes who’d turned their back on the values of Highvale in order to be embraced by the new bloods.

I wasn’t particularly fond of politicians, but both my brother and paternal grandmother held seats in the magistrates, and I only begrudged them a little.

I didn’t have much against temple priests and priestesses.

Did I think that their job was decidedly outdated?

Naturally. I could never imagine wasting my time lighting incense, polishing marble statues, and chanting hymns, but like many ceremonial parts of life at Highvale, they were a necessity.

The twelve temples in the vale did belong to the Olympian gods, and there was no telling what they would have done if they’d been neglected.

So, I wasn’t bothered by her position at the head of Zeus’s order.

The truth was simpler. I had something on her, and I didn’t feel like divulging it. Not when I could make her squirm.

I was sixteen the first time I noticed them both. Kleos, I’d looked at after sensing her freaky energy, and Zenya only because she was right there, snapping orders at the shy teenager trotting behind her.

There had been no mistaking the way Zenya’s eyes had roamed over me.

Even then, I knew the look. But I was also aware that I was pretty, tall, and built for my age, thanks to my grandfather’s training.

To my young mind, it was no big deal; she wouldn’t ever act on her clear appreciation, would she?

She was a respectable woman, part of the council of elders, and married, to boot.

She waited three years to make advances, finding me in a dark corner of the Hall of Truce after Beltane.

I’d been hiding from Kore’s friend, Thea, another woman determined to get me into her clutches.

Typically, I wouldn’t have cared, but she was a Briar—from the only founding family not related to the Saltzins yet.

I couldn’t risk my mother seeing us together and drafting a betrothal before the end of the night.

Preoccupied as I was keeping track of Thea, I didn’t notice the older woman until she was close enough for me to get a whiff of her sugary-sweet perfume.

“I see you staring,” the woman whispered, teasing, taking yet another step, which pushed her tits flush against my chest.

She wasn’t short—five-eight or so, without accounting for the heels. I towered over her today, but at nineteen, we were around the same height.

Instinctively, I’d glanced behind her, half expecting to see her daughter.

She was going to warn me off her, in all likelihood.

Yet another possibility came to mind, as intriguing as it was terrifying.

After all, I was Lucian Regis, and most of the twenty-seven noble lines in Highvale would have committed a dozen crimes to marry into the founding families.

Maybe she’d introduce us. Maybe she’d suggest I ask Kleos to dance, just like my mother had three years back when I first noticed her.

But there was no one behind her.

“You don’t have to be shy, boy,” Zenya had purred, smirking as she leaned in. “Look all you’d like. You can even touch .”

Call me thick, but it wasn’t until she grabbed my hand and pressed it against her overinflated tits that it hit me. The smell I’d caught was Eau de Cougar. Her admiration wasn’t going to end at a distance: the insane sixty-something chick actually was making a move on me.

I did what any boy in my shoes would—well, if they had been blessed with my ability. I sucked her energy, harder, faster than I’d ever allowed myself to, making her gasp, and then pressing her free hand to her painted lips, struggling not to scream.

It wouldn’t do to make a sound and be noticed.

When she finally had the sense to let go, it was my turn to grin. “Why, thank you. I definitely enjoyed that.”

We both knew I wasn’t talking about palming her tit.

I walked away, chuckling.

At the time, the incident slightly disgusted me, and amused me a great deal. Every instance when I’d caught her looking at me since, I’d enjoyed the fear, and when she couldn’t hide it, at the lust I still saw in her eyes.

I couldn’t tell if she was scared of feeling my power again, or that I might tell the world what a cheating, lecherous bitch she was behind all the outer sophistication.

It took a few years for me to realize I wasn’t just amused by the incident, and fond of the blackmail material.

I was also thoroughly disgusted. Yes, I’d been nineteen when she struck.

Yes, Zenya looked like a high school senior dressed to impress on her college interview.

Hell, between the two of us, I had likely seemed the older at the time.

But I remembered when the looks had started, and I wanted to throw up.

Eight years after, there still was no hiding the rage in her ice-cold glare. As usual, I smiled nastily. She dragged her glare away from me, focusing it on her daughter.

It was interesting, seeing the two women like this.

A fair few of my memories placed Kleos a few steps behind her mother at revels, wrapped in the pretty pink dresses that made her look like a teenager, while Zenya was always draped in alluring yet elegant gowns that did little to hide her curves. They were rarely on equal footing.

Seeing them three feet apart, staring at each other, both dressed in their choice of casual attire for a Monday morning changed the dynamic. Instead of an obedient, meek, youthful, and silent daughter and her worldly, powerful matriarch, they were Kleos and Zenya.

The younger woman wore dark jeans and a relaxed black sweater under a shawl, her red hair let loose, save for three tight braids.

Her mother was all in white, in a severe, tight-fitting three-piece suit.

With her golden hair tied in an elaborate bun, she exuded both power and poise.

Zenya also wore five rings, several bracelets, and a heavy gold necklace.

It was no hardship to guess why Zenya wouldn’t encourage this. I wasn’t in the least bit biased when I said Kleos was the more imposing of the two.

Kleos sighed deeply, sounding positively exhausted. “It’s five, Mother. I’m working .”

“With a Nachtigall and a Regis ?” Zenya all but spat, her entire face contorting as she spewed the two names like they were curses.

“Yes.” Kleos raised her chin proudly, spine straight, shoulders back.

This was the kind of posturing one did when dealing with an adversary.

Shifting ocean blue met Zenya’s ice. It was startling just how different their eyes were. In actual truth, I couldn’t find a single common point between the two women, other than the fact that both objectively were startlingly stunning.

“Lucian’s consulting on Gideon’s case. Aunt Hilda assigned me to it. I’m quite sure you can verify that if you so wish. If you don’t mind—I’m on the clock for another hour.”

I was baffled. Kleos was a damn adult , yet she justified herself like a kid caught out after curfew. Kleos herself had told me her mother was controlling. I’d underestimated to what extent.

“I do mind. I trust your work ,” Zenya retorted, disdainful to such extreme anyone would assume Kleos had been a stripper rather than an apprentice in the Guard, “allows you to take a few instants of personal leave?”

Kleos’s jaw ticked. “What can I do for you, Mother?”

“You haven’t scheduled your next date. It was approved two weeks ago—that’s improper and rude. I took the liberty of making the arrangements. You will be at the Velour Lounge tonight at seven thirty. Understood?”

I was speechless.

My family might be chaotic, nosy, and loud, but I couldn’t imagine this level of tension between any of us.

And yes , my mother loved to shove her nose in my nonexistent love life, but that was of born of curiosity; she wouldn’t hold me accountable for my choice of activity or company.

We respected each other’s independence and agency.

Mother had demanded to know the name of the woman who could touch me without being affected by my power when Ronan spilled the beans.

Had I told her about Kleos, I had no doubt that she would have strategically engineered a meeting, and dropped a million hints to make it clear she approved.

I’d seen her do as much to anyone and anything with tits I’d interacted with in the last half decade.

My family had a reputation, and she wanted to reassure any woman I might have designs on. I’d seen her do as much with Thea Briar when I finally caved and started to date her a few years ago.

No one in my family would have be this intrusive.

Taken as I was by the bewildering interaction, I almost missed it, but from the corner of my eyes, I caught Gideon holding Silver in his arms. I couldn’t tell if it was a hug, or whether he was physically restraining her. He was speaking to her so low I couldn’t catch a word.

“ Fine ,” Kleos replied, breaking the stunned silence at long last.

She’d been told to date some guy by her mother, and she’d agreed .

I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

“Good evening, Mother.”

Zenya graced her with the coldest, briefest of smiles, faker than her tits, before turning her attention to Iulia Hyperion.

“Let us move to your office.” She started to walk further into the darkness of the temple, uninvited, her voice carrying as she continued. “And you will remember to send a full list of people traveling through the portal for approval in the future, won’t you?”

Zenya Pendros was the head of Zeus’s temple, and as such, the white witch in charge of overseeing all prioresses in Highvale. Clearly, the title wasn’t only honorific: she took a hands-on approach.

The Hyperion woman wasn’t one to fold in the face of intimidation. “Well, Zenya, it’s my understanding that such matters remain at the discretion of the head of each individual temple. But if the council of elders demands clarification?—”

The words were lost as they reached a door, probably shielded with a privacy spell.

I noted I wasn’t the only one who’d paid attention: all eyes had followed them in silence.

Silver was the first to speak. “I hate that woman!”

Kleos snorted, making no comment.

“Yes, and the sky’s blue,” Gideon drawled lazily. “ Everyone hates Zenya. She cultivates a highly hateable personality. Purposely, I think. Pretty sure Zenya hates Zenya.”

Kleos laughed, her hand flying to her hair. She absentmindedly fiddled with it, braiding it with speed and skill. “Let’s get going. I suppose I have a stupid date to get ready for.”

“You’re seriously going?” I demanded.

I couldn’t define the sudden wave of irritation rolling of me. The entire interaction rubbed me wrong. The fact she hadn’t argued or fought back pissed me off. Silver and Gideon’s reactions also made it clear that it wasn’t unusual.

Kleos exhaled deeply. “It’s not worth arguing with. I’ll have a drink and let him know I’m not interested. It’s no big deal.”

Except it was. It really, really was.

“Don’t you think we should prioritize research, after everything we’ve learned?” I asked, as we reached the steps leading out of the temple.

“ Nothing is more important to me that getting to the bottom of who’s cursed me. But if I start rocking the boat with Zenya, she’ll start to shove her way into my life again, and I’ll have less free time.”

Again .

I had so many questions.

The sun was disappearing behind the west mountains in a colorful explosion of light that made my eyes burn. It was getting late. And Kleos and a fucking date .

Breathe , I told myself, willing my muscles to relax. They didn’t.

“I called us a ride,” Ronan drawled. “There should be room, if you’d like us to drop you off?”

“Sure,” Gideon said. “If I’m not too far off your way.”

Silver and Kleos exchanged one of those silent looks that could only transpire between old friends; they communicated without a word. “No need, for us. Silver lives nearby; I’ll just get ready at hers.”

My mind remembered just what dress she’d wore the last time she’d gotten ready at Silver’s. Somehow, I managed not to move, or speak, until I’d regained a degree of control.

Get used to this. She’s not yours.

A part of me very much disagreed with that statement.

“All right.” Those two words took a herculean effort, but I managed them. “Tomorrow then? At the manor.”

The beautiful redhead smiled. “Of course.”

I watched her walk away from the shadow of the temple.

Tomorrow wasn’t soon enough.