Page 1 of Once Written in Gilded Blood

Venus

Once upon a time, there was a goddess, one of love and fertility, whose only desire was to have a daughter. She wasn’t particularly fond of her fellow gods in a romantic sense—they were too prideful and cruel for her liking. Which only left her with the mortals below or the demons of Mortem.

Venus was beautiful in both heart and features. Her skin was rich in warm tones; most mortals claimed that when she walked in the sunlight, it looked like she had speckles of gold woven into her being. She left her peers dazed by her long silver hair, serene, narrow eyes, and tall stature. Venus was beloved by all. She attended as many mortal balls and tranquil parties as she could find. Always in hiding, disguised as a maiden so as not to attract too much attention.

Humans feared anything they didn’t understand. They were quick to kill creatures that they could not control. And yet they created such beautiful things. Marvelous buildings and statues of the very gods they were so afraid of. Venus couldn’t help but linger in their world longer than she should, curious if she could find love and hopeful for a daughter.

Love seemed so easy for others to find, but it proved almost impossible for Venus.

She had a few children with a couple of different mortal men, but had to part with them shortly after they were born. Demigods were to be left on the steps of Alzhor; everyone knew this. It was Jupiter’s cruel rule, but all half-gods were abominations in his eyes. Even his own children. As for Venus, she found that she could part emotionally and physically from a child every hundred years. They were all male, and as sons of Venus, were beneficial to the demigods’ reproductive efforts. Being sons of Venus meant that they were more fertile than most other demigods. Half-gods had a much lower reproductive success rate than demons or humans, limiting their numbers and creating a demand for the blood of Venus.

But her offspring were wise. They never shared who their mother was. Perhaps they never figured it out, and it would be clever of them not to say even if they did. For demigods were cruel beings. They would use them like cattle, anything to better their kingdom.

Venus cared for her sons but still longed for a daughter. She had all but given up until the Fates gave her the news she’d been hoping to hear for centuries. They came to her while she was visiting her fellow goddess, Minerva, telling her she was pregnant with a demon’s child. A daughter. Venus was shocked at first, for she didn’t think it was possible for a god and a demon to have a child together.

Minerva was surprised as well. She promised Venus that she would keep her secret. Venus was heartbroken; the father had just died in a battle with the demigods, and she’d been mourning him for weeks.

Time passed, and Venus had her daughter. She named her Alira.

Venus stared at Alira’s beautiful silver hair for hours, wondering how she could be so perfect, like a star of her own. Venus couldn’t let her go—she didn’t want to leave her on the steps of the demigod kingdom, Alzhor.

She considered ignoring the cruel rule, but the god of death, Pluto, warned her that the demigods belonged in Alzhor, and Jupiter would never let her keep her daughter in the heavens. Even if she raised her amongst the humans, it would draw the attention of the gods and the punishment for disobeying.

Venus took his warning to heart and decided to visit the Fates once more to find out what would befall her daughter should she leave her on the steps of Alzhor as the gods intended. They were an arcane group of fortune tellers—some thought they were demons, others that they were dark deities, long preceding the gods. Whatever they were, they were all-seeing and eternal, always watching, always observing every reality. They were a group of three rather frightening-looking beings. Their skin was dark gray, and they had little to no hair. They resembled long dead humans. One covered its mouth, the second covered its eyes, the third its ears.

They showed the goddess the fate of her daughter, the golden blood that would slip from Alira’s veins one way or another. She would die; it was the one excruciating truth. Alira would not live a good life. It would be filled with suffering, and her time would be cut short.

The Fates showed Venus the way the demigods would use her daughter for her gift—the gift of Venus. Being the daughter of the goddess of fertility meant that Alira would be able to conceive children much more easily than other demigods. She would be used for her fertility, abused, and treated differently from the rest of the demigods for the rarity of her gift. Her daughter would never live a normal life until the war was brought to a head and the demons slaughtered all of Alzhor.

Seeing the cruel fate that her only daughter would be dealt was the hardest part of Venus’s existence. It wasn’t fair. It must have been punishment by the divinity of the world, of Faultore, for having a child with a demon. It broke her heart.

Venus refused this prophecy, for it was too merciless for any creature.

She did not know why she asked the Fates to show her their vision when she already had a bad feeling about it. But she knew there was truth in it. Something felt different when Alira was born—the cosmos seemed to shift and pay more attention to the infant. Alira’s hair was as silver and as shimmery as the stars, her eyes a lovely shade of blue that made her olive skin radiate. She was more god than demigod or demon, a blessing and a curse.

Sadness was sewn into Venus’s heart.

No matter how many times she asked the Fates to show her another version of Alira’s future, the result was always the same. Alira died at the hands of demons.

Time and time again.

Venus pleaded with the Fates. For there had to be a way to change it.

“Goddess of Love, you know better than to alter fate. The ripples are dangerous and won’t serve your intentions the way that you are hoping they will,” they warned her, all three speaking at once, their haunting voices bouncing off the cave walls.

Venus’s stomach twisted with guilt as she replied, “I will do anything to change her fate.”

They observed her and gave Venus a pitiful shake of their heads.

“Very well, but you will need to follow our instructions perfectly. Any misstep will result in tragedy, and there is only one chance for this to work. Are you willing to sacrifice your gift of the flowers?” The Fates pulled down their ancient book from the tallest shelf along the stone wall of their cave— a small corner of Mortem that Pluto allowed Venus to visit.

“Yes.” Venus did not hesitate, even though her gift of flowers was precious to her. She’d turned many humans and demons alike into flowers for their crimes against others. She’d also learned the past through them occasionally, if she passed a flower that had grown from bones—flowers held memories from the things they’ve used to grow. Sometimes they whispered as you walked by. Sometimes they shouted.

The Fates glanced up at Venus with dull, cold eyes, tapping their long fingernails at the bottom of a page in an offbeat tempo. The paper was filled with other hopeful altered prophecies, written by other gods or demigods, Venus imagined.

“In gilded blood, it must be done.” The Fates’ voices carried through the cave and made chills crawl up Venus’s arms.

The goddess took the black dagger they handed her and made one firm cut down her palm, gold blossoming from her perfect skin, and there she wrote, even at the cost of others, for her daughter to escape such a cruel fate.