I nod slowly. “It’s my shift.”
“I’ll do it,” Drake offers, lifting his index finger in the air before I can object. “I don’t mind. I have nothing better to do.”
My lips part as I watch him leave. Something tugs at the back of my mind, but I can’t quite put my finger on what. Not that I have time to think, when Azkiel is already walking toward me, shirtless, and wearing a stoicism that I can’t tell what kind of mood he is in.
I expect him to stop in front of me, but he passes me, his eyes assessing the painted images slathered over stone. His deep voice resonates around me. “You did well last night. We should try again.”
My gaze tracks his movements as he walks over and then pulls himself onto the altar. He leans forward, his hands on his knees as he sits where people were once sacrificed.
“Are you a sadist?” I ask, the flick of his stare laced in warning. “I hurt you last night.”
He drags his fingers through his silver strands, tousling his hair in a way that I wonder what I would be like to run my hands through it. “I can handle pain, Poison.”
Tentatively, I lift myself until I’m sitting next to him, curiosity guiding my words. “When I was inside your mind, I saw you in the Darklands, and how lonely you were.” I pause, then look down at my mud-caked boots. “Your family cast you out.”
“I had to carry out my duties there and in the mortal worlds.”
I shake my head, recalling the sting of rejection framing his memories. I know the feeling well. “Did you see them?”
“Occasionally our paths would cross.”
I chew the inside of my cheek. “What about Astraea? I saw your bond with her.”
“She betrayed me, too. I just don’t remember how.” He pauses, then leans closer, his long legs reaching the first stone step from the altar.
“Nonetheless, you must miss her,” I say and as he stares at me, his pupils dilating, I see the broken man behind the god.
“Sometimes.”
“You love her, like how I love Ari,” I say, glimpsing a rare vulnerability on his face, one I can use so he will spare my sister after we find her.
“Are you trying to play on my emotions?” he asks. “Don’t bother. I’ve been separated from my siblings for one hundred and fifty years. Any love I had, including for Astraea, is long gone.”
I tsk under my breath, and a low growl sounds in his throat. “Sure.”
“I am not interested in discussing my family.” His tone is stern, but the edge of anger has dissipated since last night. “Only in returning the memories one of them took from me. We don’t have long.”
“I agree. Ari still hasn’t shown up. The elders must know we’re here.”
His fingers crumple the fabric of his pants as he holds his knees, and my stare trickles to his muscles. “They will come.” His fingers glide over the stone between us. “This temple is set upon centuries of bloodshed. It is here where the women were sacrificed to bind my siblings to the island. They can only undo the magic on this altar. Your sister is alive. I can sense her and the one other sacrifice besides the boy.”
I blink twice, a jolt thrumming through my chest. “One? It’s almost over,” I whisper aloud, to no one in particular.
“Where will you go when it’s over?” he asks, and my stomach knots. I hadn’t thought much about that. The blood oath is still intact, and if I can save Ari, I will still have to leave Dahryst.
“Another land,” I say. “Or I’ll stay here.”
“What if I allowed you to go home?” he baits, and I hold my breath for a moment. Would he really let me return? Or is this a test?
“I’d still leave Ennismore,” I reply. “I’ll go to the mountain courts.”
His muscles tense, and his fingers grip the edge of the altar.
Our fingers brush as I shift position, and he lifts my wrist, turning them to see the scars left by my mother. “It seems we are both without a home.”
The tips of his fingers glide over the half-moon scars and faded bruises, then up my arm, his eyes tracking every touch. The light filtering into the room glides through his silver hair, each one glistening as if it is made from stardust. My mouth dries as I turn my gaze from him, but I keep getting drawn back, gravitating to him. I hate it. I hate him. So why does my magic pulse at the thought and my shadows purr in my bones?
He almost smiles, reminding me that while he may be a god, he is still a man—one starved of any affection or love.
Magic unexpectedly seeps into my hands, darkening them, drawing his stare at my fingers.
“Your powers are heightened here,” he states.
“Yes.”
“How did you come to be, Calista?” he asks, and I blink twice when I hear my name on his lips again. “If you are not the one fated to destroy me.”
The powers burrow deeper. “Bad luck?’
The corner of his lip curves upward. “You said that once before.”
“You remembered.”
“Your words are not easily forgotten.” Azkiel slowly stands, his shadow casting away all the light. “I won’t let you lose control.”
I inhale sharply, then curl my fingers against the magic beating within them. “I can handle it. All I care about is finding Ari and stopping you from killing her after you get her off this island.”
Goosebumps prick over my exposed skin, as he lifts his dark stare, and shadows ripple around his body. “I don’t need to kill her, only to remove her from this island.”
