Page 136 of Immortal Sun

But it’s not time to dress yet.

I reach for the blue paint. It has specks of gold that reflect the stars shining down on her, the heavens blessing the sacrifice.

Soon Tyrell will be covered in it.

I squeeze my eyes shut and lean against the table for a brief moment before slamming a hand against the cave wall. It leaves an imprint, the first of its kind on those hallowed walls.

Never have I acted out of frustration before a ceremony, and now there would be proof for an eternity of this entire moment, I walk over to Cleo and hold her by the hand.

So warm, even to me.

She grips mine tightly, and I pull her toward the mark made by my hand and stand behind her, lifting her hand in mine. Hers is so small in comparison. I press it there and whisper, “You’ll always be in the palm of my hand. For an eternity.”

Her eyes dart up to me. “What about after?”

“Iamafter.” I dip my fingers into the blue paint and draw a line around her small fingers, making the edges of them blue.

The golden bits of stardust press into the outline of her hand and light up.

And like that they’ll stay.

But she will not.

My chest aches like a thousand hands are squeezing my heart over and over, forcing it to beat.

This must be done.

I will have no regrets but maybe this moment, where I see an eternity on the wall of that cave. I allow myself a few seconds to imagine a world where I was allowed to have someone by my side.

A beautiful chaotic world indeed.

But that is not my purpose. My purpose is to love everyone equally.

Even by doing this, I’m favoring her, by touching her, by spending time with her, and in all my years of sacrifice, never has it been just me and me alone that uses the paint.

“It’s time.” The sound of the sky, the music, the voices lift around the cave.

It has begun.

Cleo lowers her hand to her side and turns to face me. “Alright.”

Her eyes are expectant, like she wants me to be the hero, throw her over my shoulder and save her.

I am no savior.

I am only her impending doom.

A nightmare.

I am the monster who will hold her hand through life and death while Anubis escorts her to the depths.

I set the metal bowl of blue paint on the table and undo the sash on her robe, my fingers move to her shoulders as I drop it to the floor.

“And the gods,” I say in a low voice, “will worship what is sacrificed to them.” I dip my hands into the bowl and start rubbing it across her chest in one streak, the gold shimmers over her while the blue dyes her skin where I touched.

“This represents the beginning of the world, the start of creation, nothing but a streak across the sky with stars illuminating the earth.” I move the paint and cup one breast, then the other. “The creation of humans.” Her breath hitches as I trail one painted finger around and around her breast, creating a circle. I do the same to each breast, gather more paint along with courage, and drag my hand down her stomach in one solid line until I’m at her belly button. “Sexual pleasure.” I take a deep breath and cup between her legs.

She gives a jolt, her eyes widening as if to ask what’s happening.

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