Page 82 of Gods of Prey
“When have I ever needed your protection?” I nudge his shoulder, my arm passing halfway through his.
He laughs, but it fades quickly. “The council will never understand this, will they?”
“No,” I admit. “They see us as tools. Instruments of cosmic order. Our punishment was meant to teach us that very lesson. That we’re servants to the balance, not masters of it.”
“I don’t regret it,” he softly mutters. “Standing by your side. Defending the one you loved. I would do it all again.”
My chest aches at the sentiment. Even through our disagreements—our most explosive battles—Sebastian has been my only support system. The only one willing to lay his life on the line for me without a second thought. Revel has never understood our relationship. No one has. But this is exactly why I’ve been hellbent on protecting what he has with Jovie, no matter how fleeting it is.
My response is barely above a whisper as I tuck my chin into my chest. “I only hope I’m able to return the favor.”
Silence stretches between us, comfortable in the way only siblings who have shared eternity could manage. The lights of the city below flicker like distant stars, so unlike the perpetual twilight of Umbraeth or the golden glow of Aurelys.
“I can’t go back to the way things were, Sienna.” His voice is quiet but resolute. “I can’t return without her.”
I start to argue, the words of duty and balance ready on my tongue, but he holds up his hand.
“Jovie is pregnant.”
The news hits me like a physical blow. I stare at him, momentarily unable to speak.
“That’s...impossible,” I finally manage, my voice breathy and my heart in my throat. “Gods and mortals can’t?—”
“Apparently, they can when the god is living as a mortal in a manipulated timeline.” His smile is both terrified and radiant. “Four months along. We just found out last week.”
I drift away from him, my mind racing.
A child.
My brother is going to have a child with a mortal woman.
The implications are staggering, the complications endless.
“The Divine Council will never allow this,” I whisper as if they can hear me from here.
“I know.” His voice hardens. “Jovie doesn’t realize how ruthless they are. She thinks we can appeal to them, but I know what kind of monsters run those chambers. Which is why I’m prepared to give up my godhood entirely if necessary. To become fully mortal. To live one life with her and our child, and then...whatever comes after.”
“You can’t!” The words burst from me. “The balance?—”
“Will find another way,” he cuts in. “It always does. There was something maintaining Aurelys before me. There will be something there when I’m gone.”
I stare at my twin; this being I’ve known since before time had meaning. We came into existence together, two halves of the same cosmic force. Life and Death, intertwined and inseparable. Or so I thought.
“You would leave me to bear our punishment alone?” I ask, hating the vulnerability in my voice.
His face softens. “I would never ask that of you, Si. But I can’t go back now. Not with what’s at stake. I’ll find another way to serve the punishment. For both of us, if I have to.”
I drift to the edge of the roof again, looking out over the city. Somewhere down there is Revel, probably torturing himselfabout the best approach to take with the Divine Council. He has no idea he may end up with Aurelys after all.
And what would that mean for us? Life and Death, forever separated the same way me and my brother have been. I shove the thought away before it can consume me.
Somewhere down there is Jovie, carrying a miracle inside her.
And here is my brother, the God of Life himself, choosing love over duty. Choosing a mortal lifetime over eternity.
Something shifts inside me then. A decision forming, crystallizing with each passing moment. If Sebastian cannot return to his divine duties, if he must stay with Jovie and their child, then someone has to appease the council. Someone must maintain the balance.
Someone has to finish our punishment.
