Page 167 of Godbound
Inside, though, something tears loose. The grief cuts deep, but it’s the betrayal that scorches my soul.
Peonica, who tricked me into letting her sacrifice herself.
Kaelzar, who held my hand like it meant something, even as he delivered me to Calista.
I want to scream. I want to claw the truth from both of them and bury it beneath the earth.
“Gladly,” she replies, the smile on her face sickening. “Would you take this ring?” She lifts Peonica’s hand. The gold band gleams in the thin light seeping through the shrine’s cracked stone. A perfect circle. My perfect failure. “It’s yours.”
My fingers twitch and I feel myself lean forward when a memory surges.
Would you take this ring?
Kaelzar’s calm, persuasive voice spoke those words. I remember the press of his fingers around mine as he slid it on.
You’d have to ask nicely.
Peonica’s voice was sweet and casual when she tricked me. I remember the way she watched me, guiding me toward asking her the right question.
I should have paid more attention to her intense, unblinking stare. That must have been why she broke into Mael’s library—to search for the truth about the artifact, not nearly as convinced as Eva was that it was safe. And that question, that one specific question worded just right, must have been the key to shifting the target of divine possession.
Peonica had warned me. She never trusted Kaelzar. She was always wary of that ring, obsessed with it, even. It’s what got her caught by Mael in the first place. And I… I defended him. Every single time.
The reply sits at the back of my throat. Yes. One syllable. If I saidit, I’d take the ring, take Peonica’s place. Yes. That’s all it would take. But then I see the truth behind the offer.
As a Godbound, my body could hold more magic than any ordinary human ever could. All of Calista’s magic, if she chose to channel it into me. If Calista takes my body, she won’t just return to the world. She’ll rule untouched and unchallenged, fueled by all the magic waiting to transfer from her true form into this one.
And she knows it. Her eyes skim over me like a predator sizing up a feast. Her smile sharpens with hunger. “So much power tucked inside a clueless human,” she murmurs. “You were always meant to be a gateway, nothing more.”
“Why do this if you’ve already won?” The words burst out before I can fully process them. “You’d get all the prayers, all the power. If standing up to the other gods in Elysium is what you want, you’ll have enough now. So why come here in person?”
She grins. “There’s something I need here. And I knew I couldn’t trust myloyalsubject”—she cuts a glare toward Kaelzar—“with such a delicate task.”
“What?” I ask, knowing even as I say it that the question is useless.
Calista only chuckles, but the wicked curl of her expression tells me everything: whatever she wants, she believes it’s already hers.
My voice comes out low and ragged. “Whatever you’re planning, I won’t let it happen. I’ll kill you before I let you hurt anyone else.”
But Calista only smiles wider, stretching Peonica’s face into a hideously smug grin. “No,” she croons. “You won’t. We both know you won’t lift a finger against this girl.”
She lifts Peonica’s hand, stroking the fingers. “I can feel it, her love for you woven through every tendon, every breath. She aches for your approval. And that, sweet thing, makes you weak.”
A cold sweat slides down my spine. The truth of it coils around my ribs like hooked tendrils, squeezing.
“I may not have all my magic yet,” she muses, “but you’ve won, which makes me the Sovereign Goddess now.”
Peonica’s arms lift, wide and triumphant.
“This body,” she murmurs, “fragile as it is, will drink in all their new prayers.” She studies Peonica’s hands. “It isn’t strong enough to hold my full power for long. I know that. But it only needs to endure until I finish what I came here to do.”
Her smile blooms, slow and wicked.
“And no one will suspect a thing. They’ll pray harder, cling tighter, desperate for me to lift the Crimson Tether curse. I’ll tell them I might—if they worship a little more, beg a little longer.” A soft, pleased sigh leaves her. “Perhaps one day I’ll even grant it.”
A sticky dread coils through my bones.
“But you,” she whispers, voice slipping into silk, “I can’t have you wandering this realm with the truth.”
