Between the Moon and Her Night (Between Life and Death #3)

Chapter 2

Von

M y boot heels scuffed against the worn, sizable dock as I strode ahead, my steps performing a countdown, ticking down the seconds until she arrived. Those who stood in my way parted quickly, scampering backwards in fear as their eyes stretched wide as if they had seen a phantom. Perhaps, they had. The wind’s violent breath whipped my black cloak behind me while gliding its fingers over my face, brushing back my hair and whispering in my ear a message that heated my cold, bloodless veins—

We’re bringing her to you, my king.

In response, my shadows flickered hungrily around me, swarming in anticipation, latching on to that truth. Tasting and lapping at it, feeding the predator within. If I were a good man, I might have the slightest reservation about holding her to our deal, but that was just it, wasn’t it?

I was not good, nor was I some fickle mortal man .

To my right, a humble, weathered fishing boat was tied up to the dock, bouncing up and down on the turbulent waters. Two men sat in it. Despite the vast number of years between them, they bore a great resemblance to one another. Grandfather and grandson, I presumed. Their hands were full of blood, scales, and chunks of fish as they worked on filling a bucket with chum. Despite how strong my winds were—something I had purposely done to quicken her journey—the stench of cut-up fish assaulted my nostrils.

Fish. I detested it.

Unless we were talking about the female variety. Then that was different.

The older man’s weary eyes met mine, a bolt of panic shooting across them. The rusty hinges in his jaw sprung open, the color chased from his skin—painting him ashen.

Claaaack.

He dropped his knife.

That got the attention of the young man who was seated across from him. “Grandfather, what is it—” he asked, his words trailing off into stunned silence.

Although I was past them now, I didn’t need to look back to know the younger one’s eyes were fixed on me, and it wasn’t because of my handsome good looks. I presumed he wore a similar expression to his grandfather’s. It didn’t matter if they were living or dead, mortals all wore that same expression when they saw me—

Terror.

“Relax, old man,” I chuckled as I continued forward. “I have not come for you today.”

If he said something in return, I didn’t catch it, for something else had caught my attention.

Across the white-capped waters of the Selenian Sea, hundreds of my ravens emerged on the horizon. The left corner of my mouth twisted upwards—the wind was telling the truth after all. Reaching the end of the dock, I slipped my hand into my pocket, the twist in my lips spreading to the other side as I spied what the horizon presented to me—a fleet of fifty knarrs, one of the ships carrying precious, precious cargo. Their square-rigged sails were painted with my insignia—a raven standing on top of a skull with a glass orb in its beak.

“Look, there! What is happening to the horizon?” shouted one of the port workers, reminding me how poor mortal eyesight was.

His words spread like a festering infection, claiming a dozen tongues, getting them to repeat a similar message of concern. Slowly, hundreds of working hands stilled. Some people began to pray, asking for aid and mercy from the New Gods.

Should the God of Life hear their prayers, that could make this situation . . . interesting.

I glanced ahead, speaking to my wind—

Bring her to me. Quickly.

Like a good soldier, the wind answered with a mighty, continuous gust. Fifty sails flexed, stretched beyond their means, and the ships began to pick up speed. My ravens called out to me, the wind carrying their caws, amplifying them. As they came closer, those who stood behind me began to abandon their prayers as a wall of black descended upon us. Some began to run back into the city of Katlegin, seeking shelter from something they could not understand. The curious ones remained behind, watching. Waiting.

My ravens flew over top, their talons stretched out as they landed, one by one, along the irregular rooflines, etching them in a line of black. There was no rhyme or reason to the placement of the various shacks, stretching along the waterfront—a testament to how old this part of the city was. It had existed long before streets were created.

Flying above the ships, wings spread out, were the descendants of the Old Gods—otherwise known as Demi Gods. Those who did not possess the gift of flight sailed below. Although I ruled over the Old Gods, I did not consider their children my people. This was in part because I no longer held dominion over the Immortal Realm, where most of the children of the Old Gods lived. When the God of Life decided to imprison all the Demi Gods and Cleanse them from the lands, I heeded it little mind.

But then she came to me with a pretty plea on her pretty pink lips and I couldn’t help myself.

I told her that I would aid her in her rescue mission by providing transportation to a place of refuge. Although I could not bring the living to the land of the dead, I could carve out a small part of the Living Realm for them. And so, I told her to bring them here, to the self-sustainable continent of Edenvale.

That was one of two reasons why I was here right now.

“Do you see them?” cried out a woman from somewhere in the distance, her voice ringing out like a bell, full of wonder.

“What are they?” panicked another .

I rolled my eyes. Mortals were such a jumpy, anxious species.

“I don’t know,” said a man. “Could they be . . .”

“Are they gods?” chipped in a young boy.

“Why would gods come here?” snarked another.

I smirked.

“Creator above, what if they are demons?”

Their hysteria continued to grow, but I heeded it little mind, because that was when I saw her—

Aurelia. The Goddess of Life.

She stood at the front of the lead ship, silken strands of her long, white hair whipping around her. She wore a gown the color of fresh-fallen snow. A band of gold metal armor molded around her petite torso, drifting into a “v” over her sex. The fabric was slit all the way up to her hips, and when the wind would hit it just right, it showed off a hint of her porcelain skin and wealthy thighs.

Even in the daylight, her divinity radiated with the glow of Luna.

Striking eyes, the color of a clear-blue sky, met mine. Her brows tugged slightly together, her expression shifting, its meaning foreign to me.

So much about her was foreign, and yet so much was familiar.

The way her adorable, useless canines tugged at her bottom lip whenever she was thinking. Or the way her nose tilted upwards, ever so slightly, when she smiled. The sounds she made during the middle of the night, when she was alone, pleasuring herself. Ah yes, I had heard those husky moans as I hid in the shadows outside her bedchamber’s window, felt them like a summoning to me, to come and take control over that strumming hand of hers, to chain her wrists above her head, and claim her pleasure for my own.

Since the dawn of her creation, I had been obsessed with her.

But our history had been written in darkness, and I was the one who held the quill. I had stolen her ability to create, ruined her marriage, and tormented her to no end. And as for the latest of my sins against her, I had forced her into a deal I would never allow her to escape from.

“She’s beautiful,” remarked a woman behind me.

“She must be a goddess,” whispered another.

As the ship made port, one of the crew members leapt from the boat, his boots thudding on the dock. Horrific scars, the flesh swollen and raised, wrapped around his neck and wrists. To the mortals, the scars would be invisible, but to me, I could read the language of the dead.

A coil of rope was tossed onto the dock, and he began to reach for it, but when his brown eyes flicked up to mine, he instantly dropped to one knee and dipped his head. “My king.” His voice crackled with fear.

“Rise,” I told him. “Continue what you are doing.”

He nodded, picked up the rope, and began to tie it to a wood post laden with a rim of slick, green algae.

I felt something pull—an invisible chain of sorts, tugging on me. Just as it always did whenever she was near. No better than a slave, shackled to her, I obeyed its command.

My gaze met those incredible blue eyes, clear and vibrant and watching.

I sauntered casually over to the side of the boat and held out my heavily inked hand, my silver rings glinting in the light. Smirking, I asked, “How was your journey, Little Goddess?”

She looked at my offered hand as if she expected it to be laced with poison. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. Then she did something that surprised me—she placed her small hand in mine, accepting my offer.

Her touch set fire to my nerves, stirring them awake.

Using my hand to stabilize her, she gathered her skirts and rose onto the dock. By mortal standards, she was tall, but by immortal ones, the reverse was true. I peered down at her, watching as her teeth feathered her lip. Temptation seeped into my bones, urging me to snatch her face and do it for her. How badly I wanted to feel what it would be like to have my teeth in her skin.

Soon enough , I reminded myself.

“The journey was fine, thank you,” she said, her voice all regal and poised. I detested it. That wasn’t her. That was centuries of her being forced into a mold she was told she needed to fit, because that was what her ex-husband wanted.

I would free her of it.

Aurelia pulled her fingers from mine and began smoothing her gown, giving them a job as if they were needed elsewhere, but the fabric was already wrinkle-free. She didn’t fool me. I knew when people were uncomfortable. Her actions showed me that she was no different. Luckily, we had eternity to work on that. In time, I would train her to enjoy my touch—to yearn for it.

She glanced to her left, taking in Katlegin while I took her in .

My perfect little female, so untainted and so . . . innocent.

That wouldn’t last for long.

As another ship ported on the other side of the dock, people began to file off the one that Aurelia had been on. Cautiously, they walked forward, holding on to their loved ones. They all wore the same concerned look, unsure of this new land that they were expected to make a home of.

“Do you think . . .” Aurelia paused, a hint of worry threading into her royal tone. “Do you think they’ll be alright here?”

There it was again, that same incessant pull, begging me to reach out, to take her, to lock her in my arms and never let her go.

For my own calculated reasons, I didn’t.

Instead, I slid my hand into my pocket and followed her gaze.

The people who stood on the shoreline looked like they didn’t know what to make of the situation. I had chosen this city for a reason—it was old and secluded. The people who lived here were relatively peaceful folk. Had it been any other city, one more accustomed to raiders or war, they would have reacted much differently upon seeing an unannounced fleet of ships sailing towards them.

Horns would have blasted. Weapons would have been raised.

Blood would have been spilt.

But not with the people of Katlegin, no.

Instead, they stood there, watching as strangers unloaded on their docks—somewhat mesmerized. Their reactions made sense, considering the strangers were Demi Gods. Droplets of divinity had been embedded in their makings, which made them taller, stronger, more pleasing to the eye. Why wouldn’t the mortals be mesmerized? For the people of Katlegin, I doubted many of them had ever seen a Demi God before. I would wager the same could be said for the rest of Edenvale. The continent was so far excluded from the outside world that it was often forgotten about, another reason why I chose these lands to offer refuge to the children of my people. Even during the Immortal War, Edenvale had remained untouched.

Azure eyes flicked to mine, brows lifting expectedly. “Well?”

Ah, there it was, a crack in the perfect, regal tone. That was better.

“I cannot say what the future holds for them,” I answered the impatient little female. “But I can tell you that this is much better than what Aurelius had planned for them.”

White lashes swept over rosy cheeks, her gaze dropping, momentarily, at the mention of his name. I hated that he still held that control over her. Hated that it was not a tangible thing that I could wrap my fist around and rip from her, so that she could be free of those feelings, of him .

My ravens, which had been mostly silent up until now, began to caw loudly.

Something was wrong.

I looked to the horizon, taking in what was flying straight for us—

An army of immortals, dressed in ugly golden armor.

Led by the pompous little shit himself—the so-called King of the New Gods.

I rolled my eyes.