Morrigan was quiet.
“No one has ever drunk enough of my blood to hear my secrets,” he said softly. “No matter how many creatures I sired. I never offered more than a small sip from my wrist so that they would turn. You once trusted me enough to let me in, and I’m ready to offer you the same.”
Morrigan reached up to caress his face, running her thumb along his jaw. “Only if you wish it.”
“I want you to know everything; the good and the bad. It is only fair.”
Morrigan was quiet, her mind drifting to her time in the Otherrealms, the time with David in Ireland. The only parts of her he didn’t know. “There are some secrets best left unspoken,” she gently pointed out.
He took her hand. “I know. But I want you to know mine.”
Morrigan looked from his radiant ochre eyes, past his lips, and down to his throat, where his vein throbbed beneath the skin. Her heartbeat rose as she thought about the taste of his spicy blood, the flavors surpassing the taste of his mouth when she kissed him. She remembered the taste from the distant, hazy memories of the medieval world, when they tried to find each other in the violently passionate romps that often ended up on the castle floor. How wonderful it must be to drink it from a place of love and trust, rather than the confusion and anger that had devastated their past.
He seemed to sense her arousal and pulled her closer to him, one hand tangled in her hair while the other explored her body with his fingers. She kissed his neck, teasing him with her tongue before she bit. His blood was just as electrifying as she imagined it would be, a far more extraordinary pleasure than she imagined, and she nearly swooned before his memories began to filter in. Her mind was accosted by images of brown eyed twins and angel feathers, flooding waters and Heaven’s golden gates. She watched Discordia try to deceive him, watched him mercilessly take her life. She saw the deceitful goddess return wearing her sister’s face, witnessing her other attempts to seduce him. She watched her bring him to life on Earth, her tainted magic creating the dragon that would never leave him.
A low groan broke her concentration and she realized how fervently she’d been drinking. She forced herself to break away as her vision steadied, coming back to the present. It focused as he lay his head back against the wall, his eyes closed, his lips white. “I’m so sorry,” she gasped frantically, feeling for his pulse and making sure he was still breathing. She exhaled when she saw his sideways smile.
“Don’t apologize, Morrigan. Everything you do is intense,” he whispered.
She tore at the veins in her wrist, pressing it up against his mouth. She watched the color come back into his face as he drank from her, fire resuming its place in his golden irises. From the corner of her eye, she caught the sun as it crawled back under the horizon in a blaze of vibrant color. She suddenly remembered the others.
Lucius gently broke away, lifting her mouth towards his for a kiss. “Thank you. I’m glad you still want to be here with me.”
“I never knew you bore the pain of losing children,” she said quietly, picturing the cherubic twins.
Lucius looked down. “Neither did I until recently.”
“I seem to have walked in at the wrong time,” a voice interrupted.
“What is the meaning of this?” Lucius snarled before Morrigan blocked his advance with her arm.
“This is Helena, Anubis’s lover,” she told him quickly. “She is the goddess spirit I was telling you about.”
“I smelled the rum,” Helena teased with a knowing smirk. “I won’t stay long. I hear the secrets whispered in the astral place and the spaces in between, and they have been quite loud since you all came here.” She turned to Lucius. “Discordia tricked you into giving her a child because she had a theory that a child born from the union between a life goddess and a death god would be supreme—and she was right. It took eons for someone like Cahira to be born, but she is the first goddess born of this Earth. She does not need a realm because this is her realm.”
“A new type of god,” Lucius commented, impressed.
“That isn’t what I’m here to tell you,” Helena continued. “Cahira does not hold Isis’s soul as you thought, but there is one among you who does. Before you pulled the human girl out of the acacia tree and killed Discordia in the process, another piece of Isis’s soul had been removed. It was stolen by a shaman who gifted it to an African cult; they then channeled it into a woman strong enough to bear it, the reincarnation of the goddess Medusa.”
“Sandrine,” Morrigan realized.
Helena nodded. “Cahira might be one powerful earth goddess, but it’s because she is Lucius and Discordia’s daughter. Sandrine is the one who has Isis’s soul. If you are trying to reunite the ancient originals, she is the one you need to be concerned with. Discordia thinks Cahira is the one to consume for Isis’s power, but in reality, she needs Sandrine.”
Morrigan met Lucius’s eyes before looking back at the spirit with bicolored flesh and flowing blonde hair. “Thank you,” she told her.
Helena shrugged. “I’m helping you because I love your son…just don’t tell him I said so.”
“We need to find Sandrine,” Morrigan said as Helena disappeared.
Lucius threw his shirt over his head, fumbling for his slacks. She followed suit, stepping into her dress as her mind took in everything that had just been revealed to her, including Lucius’s memories. “So Cahira is an earth-made goddess, Sandrine has Isis’s soul, and you have been quite literally painted as the God of men’s archnemesis—are we still certain I’m the one being targeted here?”
Lucius came up behind her to button her dress. “I told you once before, there is a creature called Satan who resides in Tartarus now who acts as his nemesis, but he is just an ignorant demon. The humans have confused us in their theology. I have not spoken to any Watcher or anyone from Heaven’s realm in thousands of years—they don’t have a vendetta against me or they would have intervened in my life long ago.”
“But why me?” Morrigan insisted as she ran her fingers through her hair. “I am not as powerful as Cahira. I threaten no one with my existence.”
“You threaten Discordia.”
Morrigan sighed, frustrated.
Lucius spun her around to plant a kiss on her head. “We’ll figure it out,” he promised. “As much as I enjoy avoiding my brother, it is high time we talk to the others.”
Morrigan nodded, following him down the long, bending hallways towards the main rooms. She stopped abruptly as she remembered more of his story, grabbing his arm. “That was you in Ireland?”
He didn’t have time to respond, for the moment they turned the corner, they were surprised by Libraean, who hurtled a burst of air towards Lucius, knocking him to the ground.
“What are you doing?” Morrigan cried out, positioning herself between them.
She had never seen Libraean look so angry, his normally serene face twisted up in passionate rage. David was right behind him, wearing a similar expression, but where Libraean’s upset was blatantly driven by grief, David’s was hardened by pure, unaltered hatred. His voice bristled with antagonism as he addressed her.
“You’ve been so busy salivating over him since he returned, you failed to remember what a monster he is.” Wind picked up around the room, teasing the tapestries and sending papers to the ground.
Lucius quietly began to siphon his own power from where he sat behind her, patiently waiting for her to move out of the way.
“David, stop this,” she warned him.
“Morrigan, move out of the way.”
“Yes, Morrigan,” Lucius said, his voice drenched in loathing. “Move out of the way.”
