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

Chapter 40

Von

M y ass fell asleep a good four hours ago.

I’d been seated here, at the head of the table, which housed twenty of my council members, since this morning. I had asked Sage if she wished to join, a part of me hoping that she would, but she was content working on her latest task—decorating the castle with vines and roses. Today’s meeting was taking longer than usual, but considering I’d been putting the meetings off so that I could spend more time with her, I supposed that was to be expected.

Now, my ass and I were paying our dues.

Thunk. Ismay, my assistant, dropped another stack of scrolls in front of me. “These are the documents he’s speaking about.” Before she went to return to her seat, her brown eyes flicked to the dark-haired god who was sitting a few chairs down, his person adorned with every sparkling jewel known to man —

Pertheus, the God of Wealth.

Although he didn’t show it in appearance, he had taken a big hit to his coffers since I was removed from overseeing the Living Realm. In fact, we all had. When I was king and the people worshipped the Gods of Old, we didn’t have to do very much to be praised by them. Mortals would cram themselves, shoulder to shoulder, inside our temples and give up their offerings.

Then the New Gods were made, and all of it went to shit.

People turned to them, and the grand buildings that were built in our honor began to be forgotten about— we began to be forgotten about. Now, most of those once proud, incredible structures had crumbled to dust, or were on the verge of it.

When I started the Immortal War, my gods had been so starved of the people’s praise, they had chomped at the bit to try to get the Immortal and Living Realms back. During that time, there was a brief insurgence of Old God believers, and it had all given them a taste of what it was like—to be praised by the people once more.

That was a dangerous thing.

But then I called off the war. Traded my mate for the two realms.

Naturally, it had caused a great deal of discourse that I was still dealing with the aftermath of—

I looked at the scrolls, picked one up, and began to unfurl it. Eyes scanning the list, I scoffed when I saw the price circled at the bottom. I tossed the roll of paper onto the table with little care. “It is an exorbitant amount,” I said, looking to Pertheus.

“That is what I was taking in during the war and it is what I will require going forward,” he replied, propping his elbows on the chair’s arms. He steepled his fingers. “It seems like a small price to pay, considering you have committed us all to be forgotten about once more. All for that New God pet you keep like a cat on your lap as you sit on your throne.”

“Be careful of what you say, Pertheus,” Dameon growled from across the table.

“Or what?” he snarled back at him.

Dameon leaned forward, but Zahra raised her hand from her pregnant belly and pressed it softly against her husband’s chest as she said, “Or my mate will roast your pompous ass.” She offered Pertheus a closed-lipped smile.

The room fell silent.

Zahra’s hand returned to rest against her stomach as she glanced around the table. “You all forget that the times have changed and the people do not praise immortals like they used to. Not to mention they have gone and created their own false gods. Even if we had won the war, that does not mean things would have returned to how they used to be.”

Some gods nodded their heads in agreement with her, while others remained stone-faced. Their actions, or lack of, said it all, marking the loyal from the disloyal.

Without warning, molten fire scorched its way throughout me—burning me alive right where I sat. I clenched my hands together, fighting the urge to rip someone’s head off.

But the emotion was not my own, which meant—

Sage .

Shadows sweeping around me, I went to her. I found my mate storming out of the bathing chamber, a towel wrapped around her soaked frame, speckled with droplets of water. She hadn’t even bothered to dry off .

“What happened?” I asked, strolling towards her.

“I just had a chat with your sister,” she said, her voice distant.

Every protective bone within my body turned rigid. “Are you alright?”

When I went to reach for her, she took a step back, away from me.

She shook her head. “No.” Weary blue eyes met mine, pools of hurt swimming within them. “Is it true? Did you send a raven to tell Aurelius where I was just so you could force my hand?”

I swallowed. “You made a deal with me, Little Goddess.”

A second passed. Then one more.

And then I felt her heart shatter.

It nearly brought me to my knees. “Sage, I—”

She cut me off. “I don’t want to hear it.” Her voice was equal parts fiery rage and deep, deep sadness, and I could feel every devastating ounce of it. “On that day I came to ask for your help, you pledged to me that you were done being the villain in my story. But then you forged the bond knowing what we were. You took the choice away from me and didn’t give me the chance to choose you on my own. Still, I forgave you for that. But now to find out this? That you were willing to feed my whereabouts to Aurelius , even after you knew some of the things he did to me, all so you could force my hand? You manipulative kings are all the same! You are no different from him !”

Her emotions were like ash on my tongue, choking me right where I stood.

“I should have killed you that day in the forest,” she snarled, and then she went to walk past me.

I caught her wrist. “I fucked up.”

“You really did.” She tore her arm away from me and pointed to the door. “Get out.”

“Sage.” I desperately wanted to take her in my arms. To try to fix the damage I had done. I took a step towards her.

She stepped back, turning her head to the side as if she couldn’t stand to look at me. “Please. Just go.”

I hated this. Hated that she was hurting so deeply, and it was all because of me.

For once, I didn’t argue.

For once, I let her have her space and I did as she asked.

Following that day, Sage kept herself locked inside our bedchambers.

I wanted to be there for her, to apologize and console her, but when I shadow walked inside, it only made matters worse. With the use of her blade and the eyes of a heartbroken female, she made it very clear I was to get out.

Zahra, who was one of the only souls Sage would let in, would pat my shoulder when she came out of the room. She would repeat the same message, telling me to give Sage time.

And so that’s what I did.

Although I had not realized it back then, I had done the worst thing someone could do to the person they loved. It wasn’t just that I had manipulated the situation, it was who I had involved to do so, and now I saw how it looked from her perspective—

I had allied myself with the god who’d abused her.

That was what had wounded her so deeply. And rightfully so.

Throw on the fact that the bond intensified emotions, and well, I could understand why she was reacting as she was. On top of that, I hadn’t just betrayed her—the bond seemed to think I had betrayed it as well. As the bond catered to its own rules, it shut down my ability to speak with her on our private channel. The invisible chain wrapped around my ankle didn’t pull anymore. Even her emotions were no longer something I could taste.

Sage and the bond had cut me off.

I did all that I could do to show that I was sorry. I, the God of Death, spent my days in the kitchen, preparing all her favorite foods. I set the tray by her door, accompanied by a black rose—only to find the food untouched and cold a few hours later.

Sage went days without eating food or drinking any ichor, and although that time would not affect any other immortal, I worried what it might do to her.

One night, while I sat outside of our bedchamber door, my arm tossed over my knee, I realized what I needed to do to make things right, to prove that I was not the horrible monster she had come to see me as.

It was going to be among one of the hardest things I had ever done before.