Page 33 of Gods of Prey
“Leverage?” Sienna leans forward, intrigued despite herself. “What are you suggesting?”
“Sebastian has already broken the rules by refusing to return. You’ve bent them by helping him. The Divine Council is going to be desperate to restore order.” I lower my voice further. “What ifwe make a deal? Sebastian returns to his duties, but only if the Divine Council ends your punishment.”
“They’ll never agree to that,” she says dismissively, but there’s a flicker of hope in her eyes that she can’t quite hide.
“They might, if the alternative is continued chaos.” I reach for her hand before remembering I can’t touch her in this form. I let my palm fall between us. “Sienna, what I saw in New York...no one deserves that. Not even gods who made mistakes.”
She turns away, her form slinking back to translucence. I’ve made her uncomfortable, but I don’t care. The first step to demanding change is convincing her she’s truly worthy of it. That it’s not just in her head.
“You never answered my question,” she says eventually.
“Which one?”
“Have you ever been in love? In all your existence as a god?”
I consider deflecting again but find myself answering truthfully. “Gods experience attachment differently than humans. What humans call ‘love’—that all-consuming focus on another being—is generally considered a flaw in divine perspective.”
Of course, she knows that. Probably better than anyone else.
She rolls her head toward me, offering a flattened look. “That’s not an answer, Revel.”
“No,” I lie. “I’ve never experienced love as mortals understand it.”
She turns to look out the window, clouds passing beneath us like a sea of cotton. “I did once. A very long time ago. But thirty-three lifetimes here have taught me that love is simultaneously overrated and undervalued. Humans build it into an impossible ideal, then discard it when reality falls short.”
I snort. “Yet you defend Sebastian’s choice to remain with Jovie.”
“He’s my brother,” she says simply. “I understand his weaknesses because they mirror my own. They mirror the mistakes we’ve already made for love.”
The admission surprises me. “What weaknesses?”
A sad smile touches her lips. I think she's finally about to tell me what happened, but instead she explains, “Attachment. Sentiment. The foolish belief that individuals matter on the cosmic scale.”
“They do matter,” I say, perhaps too quickly. “Each soul has value. It’s the foundation of both our realms.”
She studies me with renewed interest. “For an interim god, you have strong convictions.”
“Just because my position is temporary doesn’t mean my principles should be.”
Something shifts in her expression. Respect, perhaps. Or reassessment. Whatever it is, it warms something in me that should remain cool and distant.
“Tell me about her,” Sienna says suddenly. “Jovie. In my mortal life, she was my friend, but I saw her through human eyes. What does the God of Life see in her that’s worth risking cosmic balance?”
The question is genuine, not accusatory. I consider what I know of Jovie from observing Sebastian’s many iterations of their relationship. From the short bursts of interaction I’ve had with her myself.
“She’s resilient,” I begin, scratching my chin. “Principled to the point of self-destructiveness sometimes. She pursues truth above comfort, justice above safety. In many ways, she’s a mortal reflection of you.”
Sienna looks startled. “Me?”
“Your divine essence recognizes kindred spirits across lifetimes. It’s why you became friends in this mortal iteration.Sebastian is drawn to her because she embodies qualities he admires in you, but in a form he can love without cosmic taboo.”
The implication hangs between us—that Sebastian’s mortal love echoes a divine connection he cannot pursue. Siblings in every lifetime, bound by punishment and cosmic function.
“That’s . . . ” She hesitates. “A disturbing theory.”
“Gods are complicated,” I say with a hint of a smile. “Our relationships, more so.”
A flight attendant passes through again, offering beverages to passengers but walking straight through Sienna without noticing. This one doesn’t look at me like I’ve lost my mind. Instead, she offers me a private smile and a wink that I recognize for exactly what it is. I suppose there are more similarities between mortals and divine beings than I thought. Sienna wasn't wrong before, when she caught me in the shower and snidely suggested I chase after the leasing agent and barista.
