Page 61 of Daughter of Garnet

She waggles her eyebrows with a girlish giggle. "Is that what the kids are calling it nowadays?"

I bump my shoulder into hers. "Leave me alone. We're not there yet."

"What? You haven't slept together?"

"Jeez, say it a little louder, Viv."

"Sorry, I just figured that, since we're adults with pulses, you already would've climbed his tree trunk thighs."

A blush heats my face. "There's a lot going on. We'll get there."

She places her hand on top of mine. "I don't mean to sound like I'm rushing you. You take all the time you need, and if he tries to pressure you, I'll kick him in the throat."

"Cliff is literally the last person who would ever pressure me for sex. He's the sweetest man I've ever met."

"Well, if he does, you know where my feet are."

I'm not sure what I did to deserve a friend like Viv. I'm glad she approached me on our first day here; otherwise, I might never have met her.

"What are you doing here anyway?" I ask.

She holds up her book. "Reading in the library is too quiet. I like the ambient noise of this place." Her eyes dart from side to side, and she leans closer, dropping her voice. "Besides, there are some hot Alphas that come up here, and I haven't gotten my daily dose of eye candy."

"Well, enjoy your book. I gotta run."

"Yeah, yeah, go find your beau." Before I'm out of the door, she has her nose back in her book.

A quick look into the library shows it empty, and the administrative buildings are all locked up, leaving me with a place I have yet to explore.

The chapel.

I've heard that religious services are held regularly for each of the Gods, except Ilota, but I've never attended one, and I'm not going to start now. I wonder how Ilota would feel if I worshipped someone other than her. Does she even get a service?

Something, maybe intuition, maybe my dragon, stops me from opening the large double doors at the front of the chapel and barrelling through. I weave around the building until I find a single door and slide through it, entering a room filled with old pews and a broken pedestal.

There is a heaviness here that speaks to more than just furniture. Something in this room calls to me, pulling me deeper amongst the dust and debris.

I don't know what I'll do if someone catches me poking around back here, but the fear of getting caught doesn't stop me from digging around.

I find a portrait of Oren face down, resting against a pew. They are painted sitting on the edge of a cliff, bare feet dangling, with a condor perched beside them, wings outstretched. They're striking, with white-blond hair braided into multiple pieces away from their face. The painting has a horizontal tear cutting through the cliff, separating it from the rest of the painting.

Beside it is a portrait of Kashmyre with a broken frame. The God of Earth has thorns woven through his wild beard and multiple large cats painted around his feet, some cleaning themselves, some showing off their dangerous teeth. His eyes, a brilliant green, seem to follow me as I move around the room.

A loud crack sounds underfoot as I step on something. I pick up the painting, the stretcher bar broken, and the canvas sagging. A beautiful woman with a gown made of sea foam is stretched out between a river and the sea in an estuary on a bed of cattails. In the water around her, beady, reptilian eyes poke above the water, the sight of which makes me shudder.

Those Blessed by Aenella do not get to shift as often as others, since they all thrive in the water, but she has some of the most terrifying creatures at her disposal. Her reach may seem limited, but though she is titled the Goddess of the Sea, no waters escape her reach.

Why did I not notice something strange happening when I never saw portraits of Ilota? The Gods lined the halls of our university and primary schools, but she was always represented by a garnet in a volcano, or an artistic rendering of a campfire.

She's been a concept, not on the same level as the others.

I've gotten distracted from my mission of hunting down Cameron, but I keep searching the room, hoping to find something that will tell me anything about my Goddess.

When I kneel and sweep my hand under a pew, touching something rigid, I know I've found it.

The canvas is half the size of the others and wrapped in heavy black robes.

Someone didn't want this to be found.