War of Gods Box Set

by Ford, Lizzy

“You’ve been a good friend. I’m grateful for your counsel, and I’ll protect you as I would my brother,” Darian replied.

  “Then listen when I say something bad comes.”

  “I’ll deal with it when it does.”

  “Darian.” Jule pulled his horse to a stop. “This won’t be something you can battle.”

  “There’s no such thing as something I can’t battle, Jule. I’m the White God.”

  “You haven’t lost that arrogance. But you will, if what we think will happen does.”

  “I trust you more than anyone, Jule, but these rumors of wars between immortals have been around for three generations of White Gods.”

  “There’s more than that.”

  Darian studied his friend, unable to discern exactly what Jule wanted him to know.

  “I’ll fight whatever it is. If anything happens to me, you take care of Damian and Claire,” he said. “But I don’t see it ever coming to that. No White God has fallen in the history of our worlds. It would disrupt the balance between good and evil, rupture the gates between worlds. It can’t happen. As long as I’m alive, I won’t be defeated.”

  “There are those who would see the gates ruptured in pursuit of the mortal world. Czerno is one of them. The Black God wants to be the only god the humans know.”

  “My Guardians are there to stop him. Our duty is to the little humans as much as to our own.”

  “Very well,” Jule said in a softer voice. “I’ve done my part to warn you.”

  The Original Immortal was visibly disturbed. Darian studied him a moment before his gaze went to the flowers floating from the apple trees. He loved his orchard. He’d watched Damian’s birth here, grown up here, met Claire here. It was the place where he’d always found happiness.

  “The trees bloom year round for you,” Jule said, following his gaze. “They’ll bloom forever, if it makes you happy.”

  “It does,” Darian said. “As long as I live, I want them to bloom.”

  The trees rustled as he dispelled a fraction of his power. His magic swept through the orchard. The trees would continue to bloom for the rest of his years, filling the orchard with delicate pink-white petals.

  “They’re beautiful, Darian.”

  Both turned at the woman’s quiet voice. Darian’s gaze swept over his mate’s form. Only a head smaller than his tall frame, Claire was shapely and beautiful. Hers was the kind of beauty that made a man notice her in a crowd full of beauties, or a god spot her from others gathered in his orchard for a celebration of his twenty-seventh birthday. She wore a snug dress that revealed more of her large breasts than she probably should. Long, auburn hair was loose around her shoulders, and her face glowed.

  He felt the familiar sense of desire rise just looking at her plump lips and bright blue eyes.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Darian said.

  “Of course,” Jule replied. “Think about what I said, Darian.”

  “I will,” Darian said, half-hearing. He dismounted. Jule left them in peace, and Darian offered his hand to Claire. “I thought you’d be sleeping still.”

  “I hate to be away from you,” she replied. “What was so important Jule dragged you out of our bed?”

  “Rumblings of a war between immortals. Nothing new,” Darian replied.

  “Is that all?”

  “Yes, love, that was all.”

  Claire seemed relieved. Darian started towards the palace, intending to take her to bed with him once more before he started his official duties.

  “I planned something for us,” she said and pulled away from him. Claire jogged to one of the trees and lifted a small satchel from its roots.

  “Breakfast under the trees I love?”

  “Better. Breakfast in the forest where we went the first night we made love.”

  “Beautiful.” Darian mounted his horse. Claire tucked the satchel into the saddlebags.

  “Must they come?” she asked, gaze going to his Guardians. “I can defend you against anything that attacks us.”

  Darian glanced at his warriors. He was so accustomed to them, he barely noticed them.

  “Do you want them to remain here?” he asked.

  “I want us to have a beautiful morning together.”

  “Then they stay,” he said, signaling for the Guardians not to follow. He pulled her up behind him and nudged his horse into a quick walk.

  They left the orchard for the quiet city, which had not yet begun to awaken. Darian guided the horse through marble streets marked by statues of his forefathers and beyond the city into the wood running along a stream that ran through the immortal countryside. He maneuvered his way through the forest until he found the place near the warm springs at the center of the stream, where they’d gone their first night together.

  The sound of the trickling stream joined with the voices of birds waking to face the new day. Darian dismounted and lifted Claire off the horse, settling her gently beneath a tree.

  “The best day of my life,” she murmured. “I’ll always remember it.”

  “The best day was when we met,” he said and sat beside her. “You wore that dress the same color as the blooming apple trees.”

  “And you all in black.”

  “I wore green that day,” he said with a chuckle. “Dark green.”

  “I’m not one for details,” she said and smiled. “I fell for you that day, Darian.”

  “We fell for each other. It took some strong-arming to get you out of the betrothal you were already in with … what was his name? Isac?”

  “Yes, Isac.”

  “Your father was not happy about it. I would’ve thought he would’ve supported you mating with someone more powerful.”

  “Father was not a man easily understood,” Claire said, darkness crossing her features. “He still isn’t.”

  “You are a queen. What more can he want?”

  “If I were the only ruler of the immortal world, he might be happy,” she said.

  Darian glanced at her. Part of the reason he’d mated with her so quickly was to get her away from the man she claimed beat her. He knew on sight he wanted her. No one would stand in the way of a White God, even an abusive, power-hungry father.

  “I’ve been keeping him occupied,” he said. “He won’t hurt you anymore, Claire.”

  Her smile was bitter. He felt the mood that descended over her without fully understanding it. She normally clammed up when they discussed her father, and today was no different.

  Not wanting to ruin their morning, Darian took her into his arms. Her body relaxed instantly. He made love to her under the forest canopy, the way he had their first night. When they both lay sated, he kissed her and rose, pulling on his clothes as he went to the horse.

  “I hope you brought my favorite,” he called over his shoulder.

  “I did, love.” The dampened mood was still in her voice.

  Something struck the back of his head. Darkness fell over him.

  Claire bounded to her feet, heart pounding. She looked at the man who had been her mate, at Isac, then at the third man with them, her father. The White God fell into a heap.

  “Father, are you—”

  “We’ve done this before, Claire,” he snapped.

  “I know—”

  “Grab an axe. We’ll bury him in pieces, where no one will find him.”

  She obeyed, as she always did. Isac was the first to slam an axe into Darian’s body, his brutal strikes falling over and over. She stared, numbed, as her father joined them.

  Her whole life, no one had made her feel as Darian did. Like she was special. Like she was more than the daughter of a whore and a sick nobleman. They’d pulled similar scams on other wealthy men, mostly in the mortal world, outside the view of immortals who might see them. Her father’s wealth had come from his whore-daughter’s ability to charm any man she chose.

  “You want to be queen of the immortals?” her father called.

  “Of course,” she whispered.
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  “You either take what you want or become a victim to someone else who will. There’s no turning back.”

  She gripped the handle of the axe more tightly, hands clammy. Her mate, her only love, was nothing more than bloody pulp. The towering, muscular man who held her until she fell asleep every night and made love to her as if she was the only woman he’d ever known was no more. There was nothing now but to claim his throne. She’d find another man to hold her; she always did.

  “You do it, or you’ll never be queen,” her father said. “Only a member of the White God’s family can kill him. Your marriage ceremony bound you to him. This is the only way you will ever be queen. Now, make your choice, daughter.”

  Claire squeezed her eyes close for a moment. She pushed the thoughts of Darian from her head, instead focusing on seeing herself seated in his throne. Opening her eyes, she raised the axe and let it fall, grimacing at the sounds of flesh splitting. She stumbled and looked down, surprised when she realized it was the ground shaking and not the dizziness she felt at hurting the man who’d truly loved her.

  “Father!” she cried, knocked to the ground.

  “What is this?” Isac shouted as he struggled to remain on his feet.

  The rumbling of the earth ceased. She stood. Just as suddenly, the earth began to buck hard enough that trees creaked and smashed into the ground. It stopped again.

  “Slay the White God, slay the balance.”

  Claire twisted to see who spoke and was struck by the tall, slender man who stepped from the shadows of the forest. His eyes and hair were black, his features noble. He walked like he was the White God, with confidence and command.

  “It’s a naughty thing you’ve done,” he said, eyes taking her in from head to foot. “You’ve saved me some trouble, but you’re too stupid to know what is to come. I need Darian alive, in case the plan to rule the mortal world doesn’t quite work out for me.”

  “Isac, take his head,” her father ordered. “We’ve got two bodies to bury.”

  Terror on his face, Isac stayed where he was. A moment later, he dropped the axe and ran. Claire stared after him then looked back at the stranger in black.

  “The boy-god will need a body to burn,” the stranger said, eyes lingering on her father.

  “Damian will die next. My daughter is the ruler of the immortal world,” her father said.

  “Whore, kill your father.”

  Claire’s body rose and grabbed an axe. She fought the invasion, unable to control her own motions.

  “Father, run!” she cried. “I can’t control—”

  Her first strike slammed into her father’s head, cleaving straight through it. Claire screamed, unable to pry her hands free of the axe’s handle. She struck him again and again. When she tried to close her eyes, the magic controlling her body forced them open again. Over and over, she hacked her father into pieces, sobbing and screaming.

  Finally, the magic left her. She dropped to her knees between the two bloodied corpses, hoarse from screaming. The ground still trembled, and trees fell in the distance. The stranger stepped next to her, surveying the damage. He hefted an axe.

  “Please don’t,” she whispered. “I’ll do anything. Please don’t kill me.”

  He crouched beside her, his cold smile filling her with a fear unlike any she’d felt before.

  “I have plans for you, my sweet Claire. You will do anything for me. Starting now.”

  He snatched her and sank his fangs into her neck. Claire screamed again, batting at him in desperation to escape. The man didn’t let her go until her world grew dark. She dropped to the ground, senseless.

  “I’ll be back for you, love,” the man said. “You’re mine now, and so is your lover.”

  Fading in and out of consciousness, Claire blinked to try to clear her vision. “Who … what are you?”

  He fished around in the remains of Darian and yanked free something that glimmered silver in the early morning light. She recognized the necklace that marked Darian as the White God. The man tossed it on the body of her dead father. He leaned over to her and yanked off the necklace marking her as the mate of the White God.

  “I’m Czerno, the Black God, your new master and mate,” he said. “You disabled my greatest enemy for me. I’ve got a deal with a certain faction of immortals to bring him back to life and keep him around until I need him. You, love, I have more than one use for. I’ll enjoy fucking you for eternity.”

  Czerno. Claire heard the rest of his words without registering them. Immobilized, fear rose within her as she watched the Black God lift Darian’s bloody form from the ground. He disappeared. He hadn’t been gone long before another form came into her view. Too weak to focus, she didn’t know who it was until he’d knelt beside her.

  “I warned him,” Jule whispered. “Czerno’s marked you. I suppose this rights your wrong, though I will never forgive you.”

  He rose and left, his visit so quick, she wasn’t sure she really saw him.

  The roar of the earth grew louder. Unable to move, barely able to breathe, she watched the sun climb into the sky. It was blood red, casting a shadow the color of blood over the immortal world. The ground rumbled more violently as the sun rose, until it began to split open. At long last, she heard a familiar voice.

  “Darian!” Damian’s white-blond hair was familiar to her before his face came into view. “My gods!”

  Claire heard him drop beside the body he thought was his brother’s and begin to sob. She used what strength she had to roll onto her back, desperate for a Healer. Damian clutched his brother’s necklace in one hand, the reins to his horse in another. Two Guardians pushed him out of the way but hesitated, unable to lift a body she’d completely obliterated.

  “Don’t worry, Claire,” Damian said, regaining himself. “We’ll find out who did this and kill them. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  She felt him lift her, falter with the shaking earth, then manage to heft her on top of a horse. She sagged against the horse’s neck.

  “Ikir.” One of the Guardians stepped towards him. “There’s nothing anyone can do.”

  Damian wiped his face, staring at the pulpy mess of the body before him.

  “We need to go, Damian,” Jule said, pulling his horse to a halt. “The gateway between worlds is barely holding up. We have to get you to the other side.”

  “I won’t leave him, Jule,” Damian said, sinking to his knees beside the body.

  “You must.” Jule slung himself down from the horse and dropped beside the boy-god. “There is more at stake here than your brother’s life.”

  “I can’t!”

  “The human world will fall to the Black God if you aren’t there to protect it. What would Darian tell you to do?”

  Damian’s shoulders shook.

  “He’d tell you to fulfill your duty, Damian.”

  “Build a pyre here,” Damian whispered at last. “He deserves a decent burial.”

  “Take her to a Healer,” Jule ordered, motioning to Claire. “We’ll find out what happened later.”

  Claire’s horse was led away. She watched the Guardians gather wood in the eerie light of the bloody sun and start the funeral pyre for her father’s body. Exhausted, she closed her eyes, Jule’s words to her from earlier echoing in her thoughts.

  Czerno’s marked you.

  Day of the Schism

  Immortal World

  Peasant quarter of the imperial city

  Duty, honor, courage, selflessness. Jenn, the only daughter of a low-ranking noble’s servant, repeated the mantra of the Guardians for days before taking the sacred oath. She looked around at her family and that of her mate. She steeled herself for their rejection, reminding herself she did it not for them, but to give her daughter a better life.

  “I joined the Guardians yesterday.” She braced herself for their reaction. All talk hushed around the tiny table where their families shared their first and last meals of the day. The wooden table had one leg propped
up by firewood, and only three of the eight chairs matched. The tiny main room of the small dwelling was lit by one window.

  “Then you’ll unjoin,” her father said first.

  “Today,” her mate added. “You have a daughter. You can’t be so selfish.”

  She toyed with her food, gaze going to the closed door behind which her two-year-old daughter slept. Her mate and father were near the same age, over double her eighteen years. They agreed about everything when it came to her life.

  “They pay more than shoveling shit,” she said.

  “You should be grateful you shovel shit in a noble house and not a whorehouse,” her mate replied calmly.

  “There’s more to life than shoveling shit! I can create a better life for Talia in the Guardians.”

  “The Guardians are for warriors, Jenn. You’re not a warrior. The mortal world is no place for a mother of a small child,” her father said.

  “Mother, please! You must know I want what’s best for Talia. This is the way to get there,” she said, turning to her mother.

  “Do as your father says. You should be grateful for your station. If he hadn’t saved that nobleman’s child years ago, you’d have been sold on the auction block,” her mother said. “You have a comfortable life.”

  “The child should’ve settled you,” her mate’s mother chimed in. “The apothecary has calming herbs. I’ll fetch some next time I am in town.”

  “Besides, you should focus on producing more children,” her mother added. “You have a noble master who will find places for all your children.”

  “I don’t want more children,” Jenn said, shoving her plate around. “I don’t want the one I have to grow up like this!”

  “Be grateful,” her father snapped. “We have more now than we ever did.”

  “Mother, the apothecary is a good idea. Jenn’s mind does not work as it should. No mother should want to leave her child to go to some other world,” her mate said.

  “I’ve heard of this happening before, but normally right after birth,” his mother said. “An apothecary might not be enough for the type of medication she needs.”

  “We can appeal to our noble master for a Healer,” her mother said.