Page 1 of Gods of Prey
PROLOGUE
The Great Hall of the Divine Council gleams with celestial light, its transparent crystal floors revealing the cosmos swirling beneath them. The streets of Nytheris buzz around as a backdrop through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Seven thrones form a perfect circle, each occupied by a deity whose power radiates throughout the chamber. In the center stand the twins: Siennara, Goddess of Death, and Sebastian, God of Life. Their wrists are bound by shimmering golden threads that suppress their divine abilities.
Siennara lifts her chin defiantly, her sage eyes burning with barely contained rage. Near-white hair splays wildly across her forehead—proof that she put up a fight during her arrest. Beside her, Sebastian appears more somber, his identical eyes downcast, occasionally glancing at his sister with concern. They couldn’t be more different at this moment. Where Siennara radiates fury, Sebastian exudes regret.
“The Divine Council is now in session,” announces Seraphina, Goddess of Wisdom. Her voice reverberates through the hall, silencing the murmurs of the lesser deities gathered along the perimeter. “We gather to pass judgment on Siennara ofUmbraeth and Sebastian of Aurelys for their crimes against the cosmic order.”
Siennara’s hands clench into fists, black wings shaking at her back, begging to be set free from the restraints the Divine Council placed on them in her arrest. To immobilize a god’s or goddess’s wings is a grave offense. One she’s never taken lightly.
But there was no choice when she fought them so hard.
“Our crimes were acts of mercy,” she hisses, earning a warning look from her brother. “We can no longer ignore an entire realm of beings who need our help simply to uphold an old grudge.”
Myelle, Goddess of Time, leans forward on her throne. Unlike the other deities who appear in their prime, she shifts constantly between youth, maturity, and old age, her features fluid as water. Currently, she wears the face of a stern matron, her silver eyes narrowed at the twins.
“Mercy?” Myelle’s voice is soft but carries an edge sharp enough to cut diamonds. “Is that what you call manipulating the threads of time and fate?”
Sebastian finally speaks, his voice steady despite the circumstances. “We sought balance, Myelle. True balance. Not the rigid system that causes so much suffering.”
“Balance is not yours to redefine,” booms Caelum, God of Order. His body is perfectly symmetrical, his white robes unmarked. “The cosmic order exists for a reason. Life flows to death. Death gives way to new life. When you interfere with this cycle?—”
“When weimproveit,” Siennara interrupts, earning gasps from the spectators. No one interrupts the Divine Council.
Caelum raises his hand, silencing her. “Forty-three souls were diverted from their destined paths. Forty-three lives extended beyond their allotted time. Forty-three deaths weredenied. The ripples of your actions have caused immeasurable disruption.”
Myelle rises from her throne, her form shifting to that of an ancient crone as she approaches the twins. The other council members watch in reverent silence. Myelle rarely leaves her seat during proceedings, but she’s always had it out for the twins. Her movements are precise, deliberate, as she circles Siennara and Sebastian.
“Do you understand what you’ve done?” she asks, her voice now crackling with age. “Every soul has its time. Every life has its purpose and length. When you extend one life, you alter countless others. The child who was meant to be born of grief never comes into existence. The widow who was meant to find new purpose remains complacent. The successor who was meant to rise remains in shadow.”
Sebastian bows his head. “We understood the consequences.”
“Did you?” Myelle’s form shifts again, now a young woman with fierce eyes. “Then you knowingly committed the highest form of cosmic treason.”
Siennara steps forward, causing the guards at the perimeter to tense. “We acted out of compassion! Something this council seems to have forgotten. The system is flawed?—”
“The system,” interrupts Aethon, Goddess of Truth, “is what holds reality together. Your compassion, admirable as it may be, threatened the very fabric of existence.”
Myelle completes her circle and returns to stand directly before the twins. She reaches out with ancient hands, touching each of their foreheads. Both twins gasp as images flood their minds. The consequences of their actions appear, spiraling through time, lives altered, paths changed, souls confused and wandering.
When Myelle withdraws her touch, tears stream down Sebastian’s face. Siennara remains dry-eyed, but visibly shaken.
“Now you see,” Myelle says quietly. “Now you understand.”
“What is your judgment, Council?” Thorne asks, his voice solemn.
One by one, the deities speak.
“Stripping of powers,” says Caelum.
“Eternal separation,” adds Lyralei, Goddess of the Elements.
“Confinement to their respective realms,” suggests Nyx, Goddess of Dreams.
Myelle turns to face her fellow councilors. “None of this addresses the root of their transgression. The twins acted out of a belief that they knew better than the cosmic order. That their emotions should supersede the balance of existence.” She turns back to Siennara and Sebastian. “They must learn what it means to be mortal. To live within the constraints of time. To face death, as all mortals do.”
Siennara’s eyes widen. “You cannot?—”
“Fifty mortal lifetimes,” Myelle declares, cutting her off. “One for each soul you diverted, plus seven as the sacred number of balance. You will be born as mortals, live as mortals, die as mortals—again and again. You will lose your divine consciousness and your powers. At the end of each cycle, you will remember who you are, but be unable to change your fate.”
