The army roared in delight and Lilith’s stomach dropped. The orders Nushka gave were vastly different from those they had discussed. This would not simply be an invasion, but an annihilation.
The Queen of Moor turned from her raptly cheering army and returned to her sister’s side, mischief gleaming in her fiery gaze. Her claws outstretched, ready for a fight, her hair a writhing, living thing behind her.
“No Deity is meant to be harmed unless absolutely necessary!” Lilith confronted her sister furiously when she was within earshot, nostrils flared.
The Goddess of Darkness struggled to rein in the shadows threatening to break free and attack any that opposed their master’s wishes. They, too, demanded justice.
“Don’t be so naïve, Lilith, this is war. Deities will die, whether you wish it so or not,” Nushka stated matter-of-factly, teeth gleaming menacingly. “You need to remember that even though we are allies, this is my army, not yours, and I will wield it as I see fit.”
‘Thorn… Chiara… My family… I want to be Queen but I don’t want them dead! Nushka is going too far…’
Lilith’s cheeks heated, her fingers curled, shadows ready to pounce.
“Why would you give your followers free rein to kill and torment whoever they please?! What about our family?” Lilith screamed. “That was not the plan we agreed upon and you know it! Why are you so willing to go back on your word and shed blood so thoughtlessly?”
Lilith’s power thrummed furiously beneath her skin, preparing to defend herself if need be.
She was fooling herself, thinking her sister could have changed. Of course Nushka would command her subjects to kill without consequence, preferring to take down her enemy by any means rather than valuing life. The punitive approach was the only approach as far as Nushka would ever be concerned. The alliance they shared was based on mutual distaste for their situations, it did not make them any more alike than they were before.
“And why in your right mind would you allow me to witness this betrayal?!” Lilith’s eyes widened in disbelief. She knew the answer before the words were out of her mouth.
Nushka bared her teeth in a cruel smile, her eyes alight with the promise of bloodshed.
“This speech was not just an order to your followers, but also a warming… A test. For me,” she breathed.
“Yes, it was… and you failed,” Nushka replied ominously. “I do not have time to convince you the path you wish to follow is wrong, so I will just have to take matters into my own hands.”
With a quick flourish of her magic, Nushka forced Lilith to the ground and bound her limbs with shadow magic. With another curl of her hand, she summoned Ilbis to her side, his eyes instantly trained upon her.
“Please, don’t do this Nushka! We are a team! We want the same things!” Lilith begged her, desperately trying and failing to break out of the magical bindings that restrained her. She lashed at the bindings with her own shadow power, but Nushka’s shadows kept squeezing her tighter.
Nushka’s returning cackle was a thing of nightmares. Despite Lilith’s mental defenses, Ilbis attacked her with his enhanced mind conqueror gifting, penetrating through each layer with a slash of his telekinetic claws, eviscerating her mental shields. Ilbis crushed her shields quicker than Lilith could re-build them. She clenched her teeth against the pain of his intrusion, eyes screwed shut in concentration as she fought against his telepathic attack. A moment later, her eyes glazed over, and she slumped temporarily unconscious.
Several minutes later, Lilith roused on the hard slate floor of the bone castle entrance, a sudden bloodlust coursing through her veins.
Lilith rose from the ground on unsteady feet, her wrists and ankles strangely sore, nausea roiled in her stomach. She wiped her dirty hands on her skirts to remove the dust.
“Nushka? Ilbis? Why was I on the floor? What am I doing in The Pitts?” She asked, noticing the unfamiliar surroundings.
The intense heat assaulted Lilith’s eyes and nose, something she was sure she could never grow accustomed to. Nushka offered her sister an unnervingly tranquil smile.
“My darling sister, you fainted,” Nushka reassured her. “I suspect the heat got the better of you. We were just rallying the host, readying to attack the Land of the Gods.”
Lilith’s nerves eased at the reassurance, though she could not recall arriving in Moor at all. Slowly, plans of the invasion resurfaced, and her stomach unfurled with relief.
‘We will destroy our parent’s legacy; we will take the seat of power that is owed to us. We will do whatever it takes, even kill, to achieve our means.’ The thoughts swirled around in her mind like a revolving door.
Lilith looked at a smug Ilbis, wary of the slight satisfaction gracing his features.
‘Why can’t I remember fainting or arriving here? What have they done to me?’ Lilith despaired.
Lilith assessed her mental shields, but they were intact. Before feelings of concern could take root, they were replaced with a sense of peacefulness and comfort. Another rush of emotion urged her to trust Nushka, who had never led her astray before. The Dark Goddess allowed the soothing feelings to consume her, washing away any doubt. Even her shadows calmed at her feet, and all wariness or suspicion floated away.
21
The Goddess of Blood and Bone
Through a portal of darkness, Lilith and Nushka re-entered the formal dining room located in the Rulers’ castle in the Land of the Gods. Two of Aria’s handmaidens awaited their return. This time, Zeri did not follow them. Her pet was content to play with the chimera herd, and Nushka did not begrudge it that enjoyment. They would be reunited in battle soon enough.
Lilith radiated unease, her shoulders stiff. Nushka worried that Ilbis may not have been skilled enough to fully manipulate her sister’s mind. Initially, it had seemed to work; Lilith had not questioned Nushka again regarding her intentions for the Deities residing in the Land of the Gods. But now, Nushka was not so sure…
After a quick glance of apprehension towards her sister, Lilith followed the handmaiden that had been assigned to take her to her quarters. If the servants suspected anything amiss from their brief disappearance, they did not let it show.
A wraith, who introduced herself as Clythia, began leading the Goddess of Blood and Bone to her own guest suite. To her dismay, they headed in the opposite direction to Lilith, which made Nushka wary. A gentle breeze caused her silk gown and shadows to flutter as they walked.
The Goddess was eager to find out what had happened to Agnes since her arrival, and to make sure that her plan had not been spoiled by the incompetent wretched soul. Nushka sent her shadows creeping around the floors and walls as they walked, searching for signs of her handmaiden. After scaling one flight of stairs, then another, Nushka grinded her teeth as she continued to follow Aria’s servant blindly through the halls.
As a youngling, her bedroom had been on this floor, and feelings of nostalgia took her by surprise as she eagerly looked for the door. Though, eons later, she reasoned that the suite had likely changed hands hundreds of times.
The Dark Goddess’s shadows became frantic as the familiar scent of ash and fire assailed her as they went to pass another door. Without a second thought, she stopped trailing the servant. Unsurprisingly, the door was locked. A flare of her dark magic had the door blasted off its hinges and landing with a heavy thud on the suite floor.
Seated comfortably at a dressing table facing away from her, clad in a gown of deep red silk, Agnes was having her golden hair styled into loose curls by a nymph. Blood red lipstick shone on her lips, and the thought of what those lips and that mouth could do had warmth pooling in the Goddess’s core. She cursed her thoughts. The girl before her was merely a pawn, she would do well to remember it.
Agnes’s eyes flew to hers through the mirror’s reflection as she pursed her lips.
“Leave us,” Nushka commanded from the doorway.
The timid water nymph scampered out of the room through a back-serva
nt’s entrance, giving Nushka as wide a birth as possible. With cautious calculation, Agnes’s eyes darted around the room, seemingly checking for exits.
Nushka cast a stream of her shadows around the room, coating every surface and blocking every entry from prying eyes and ears. The room transformed from a light and airy sanctuary into a black abyss, the only light coming from a scented candle that burned by the bedside.
Agnes rose from a stool and turned to face the Goddess, only a few strides separating them. The tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife. The handmaiden was devastatingly beautiful, though it pained the Goddess to admit it. Her cheeks were rosy from layers of make-up the nymph had applied. After all they had shared together, all that Agnes had done for her, Nushka often forgot that she was no longer living and her body… it was no more real than the moment they shared in the hot springs. That day felt like a lifetime ago, and yet she could still feel the pebble of Agnes’s skin beneath her touch, could still imagine the feel of her tongue within her, tasting her.
Nushka shook her head to clear her thoughts, reminding herself of the task at hand.
“Did you achieve your mission?” Nushka asked with her arms crossed, claws extended.
Agnes’s gaze turned sharp. “If you are feeling thirsty tonight, I would not drink the wine,” she snapped.
A moment of surprise crossed Nushka’s face, and she allowed a small, wicked smirk to form. “You have held up your end of the bargain, Agnes.”
The use of her name on Nushka’s lips felt sour, too personal for what they shared, what they were to each other—nothing. This was a business arrangement, nothing more, she reminded herself. Though she doubted she would hold up her own end of the bargain. As far as Nushka was concerned, the handmaiden should be grateful for every moment she was allowed in her presence. This strange attachment she felt towards Agnes, it was dangerous. It threatened all she believed in. To feel was to be weak and she would not be weak. After her coup was over, she would put the handmaiden back in her place.
“You sound surprised,” Agnes rolled her eyes. “The Queen of the Gods invited me for tea…” Agnes added after a moment, returning to her seat when she realized Nushka would not approach her.
Nushka lip curled baring her teeth. “What did Aria want?!”
“She wanted dirt on you.” Agnes picked at her nails, her mouth drawing into a smirk. “Her method was surprising, though her questions were not. But don’t worry, I told her nothing. She still thinks me a meek and mild weakling who only wants forgiveness for her past crimes. She has no idea of the predator lurking beneath my skin.”
Amusement crossed Nushka’s face. The girl had balls, the Goddess would give her that.
“Good,” Nushka replied, her mouth pulling into a tight-lipped smile.
‘Here’s the woman demanding my attention. The soul with fire in her heart.’
The thought crossed her mind before Nushka had a chance to squelch it, and she mentally chastised herself.
‘Weak. That is what I will become if Agnes remains in my service. I don’t know why she affects me so. I never had this problem with any of my other handmaidens. She needs to go,’ Nushka thought repulsively.
The Goddess of Blood and Bone shuddered, her shadows withdrawing to her. She turned on her heels and left the room. Nushka had all the information she needed. The plan was still on track. She didn’t need any more distractions, and Agnes was the epitome of distraction. She needed distance between them. If she stayed in that suite any longer, staring at her in that tantalizing red dress, those perfectly painted red lips, she knew it would only end in trouble. Agnes was a threat she needed to rid herself of. The handmaiden had served her purpose, and now Nushka needed to discard her or risk coming to care for her. The thought sent another shiver down Nushka’s spine.
Clythia waited for her in the hallway. As soon as Nushka rejoined her, she silently resumed her tour, leading the Dark Goddess three doors down the corridor, to her former suite as a youngling. The suite was exactly as she had left it all those eons ago.
*
22
Agnes
The banquet hall in the castle reminded Agnes of the great hall back in Castle Brandistone. A large balcony surrounded the room on three sides, trailing out into the open air from the archways encompassing the room.
Candles floated above the Deities as day turned to night, and it reminded Agnes of home, when her sisters would have lit them with their fire-wielding giftings. The immortals danced to ancient songs performed by a stringed quartet who played with a precision only an immortal’s lifespan could produce. Their craft was so honed, the music was an extension of themselves; a shedding of skin to bare their souls to those blessed to hear their melodies. Such details hadn’t held her interest in her human life, but her wretched experience in Moor had caused her to seek out such beauty, to appreciate it with fresh ears.
Aria and Archè had not yet arrived, evidenced by their empty thrones upon the dais erected on the far side of the expansive room. Agnes saw no sign of either the Goddess of Darkness or the Goddess of Blood and Bone. Relief filled her as she realized she was free to enjoy the celebrations, no matter how briefly. She had not allowed herself to consider it was even an option.
Surrounded by a hall of predators, Agnes felt helpless without a weapon. In her mortal life she had always strapped a dagger to her thigh for protection. Though such an object would have been impossible to conceal tonight. The deep red gown clung to her every curve before draping softly to the ground.
Dressed in a gown of such finery, hair styled, and make-up applied to perfection, Agnes drifted towards the dance floor, the music drawing her in. A waiter passed her along the way, offering her a glass of wine which she eagerly went to accept, but then quickly realized her mistake and left the glass upon the tray. A small, curious spark lit the waiter’s gaze, but he shrugged it off and continued moving throughout the room, tray of crystal glasses balanced perfectly on one hand.
Agnes resumed her graceful walk towards the dance floor where couples danced lovingly, arm-in-arm, their love and light flowing from them like an aura. A soft blanket of clouds whimsically shrouded the floor.
“Excuse my interruption, madam,” a husky accented voice sounded from behind her, “but it seems I find myself without a dance partner and you look as though you have need of one too. Could I trouble you for a dance?”
Thorn.
A smile curved her lips. The God of War was dressed to perfection for the evening’s event, though unlike her, he had likely managed to conceal a small arsenal of weapons beneath his garments.
“Are you lost?” she taunted, raising an eyebrow. “You must be, to have sought me out amongst all the beauties in this room.” She gestured around her with a flourish to emphasize the point.
Thorn’s returning smile was predatory, his gaze ravenous as he surveyed her in the gown he had adorned her with earlier. Agnes felt butterflies flutter around her stomach.
“Now where would the fun be in that?” he teased, pulling her into the crowd of dancers before she could object.
Thorn’s warm hand weighed heavily at her waist, his other finding her hand, and so they waltzed. Thorns steps were light as a feather from years of combat training. Agnes herself moved with the grace of a swan as years of dance training as a Princess flooded back to her. Hours flew by as Agnes lost herself to the music in the arms of the God of War. The magic of this realm pulsed though her, coaxing her to unleash herself, urging her to cast aside all concerns. Her head became light from exhilaration, her feet seeming to float on air. Why the God had chosen to dance with her, Agnes couldn’t understand. Morbid curiosity, perhaps? Whatever it was, she was grateful for it.
The God of War’s muscular chest pressed against her own, his hand wandering dangerously close to her behind. More than once, she had wondered what it would feel like to bed him—not to make love. She wanted to fuck him until she saw stars, pure carnal need overcoming her. An urge so compellin
g she wanted to rip the blasted God’s pants off where he stood. Sensing her rising need, Thorn pulled her in closer, until one subtle movement would have had their lips exploring each other.
“It’s the music,” Thorn whispered in her ear, as if that were explanation enough. “It’s an aphrodisiac in our realm. The instruments are infused with the Goddess of Love’s power. As the musicians play, those that hear its seductive melody are filled with want.” His voice emphasized the last word.
Heat curled in Agnes’s core, and she found herself writhing, wanting any kind of friction between her legs. She needed him, wanted the feel of him in her hand, lusting for the taste of him.
Agnes drew her gaze away from Thorn, needing to distract herself from the overpowering feelings. No longer were couples dancing so innocently in the firelight. Hands searched, limbs were entangled, and lips explored as the floor became less of a dance floor and more like the primal gatherings during Nushka’s evening entertainment. The Deities were lost to the trance of the music and their baser urges.
“Do you dare to answer the music’s call?” Thorn whispered boldly, and Goddess curse her she did.
Agnes wanted to experience all of it. If tonight could be her last night in this form or any other, she needed to know what it would feel like to be with him—to feel him.
Heat flared in her eyes. “I think the question is why do you dare, prince? After all, I am damaged goods,” she snapped, though there was no anger behind her words.
Thorn’s gaze smoldered. Her breathing hitched as he leaned in closer, his breath gently caressing her ear.
“Since I am about to be damned to The Pitts for aiding in your scheme, I figure I may as well enjoy myself before my life and the realm goes to hell,” he whispered fiendishly.
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