Page 11 of The Endless One

As the God King’s influence faded once more, she sat on her hands so she wouldn’t feel them shaking.

If he wasn’t careful, Elric was going to explode.

The coven had gathered at a small seaside shack. One that was very similar to where his story had begun. Sybil was eerily good at finding abandoned buildings like this, and with a small amount of magic, she had made it large enough on the inside to hold all of them.

But now he was sitting in the center of chaos. Witches rambling all around him, without the anchor of his gravesinger to cling to. He felt like their words were buffeted to him from every angle as they all stared at him, wondering what he was going to do. They knew how he felt about Jessamine. They knew that the God King was his brother. They knew she had been taken by Ajax, who would do all manner of horrible things to his woman.

Their words already filtered through the dull thud of his own heartbeat, which had been hiding the sound of their voices for hours now.

“Isn’t he going to speak?”

“Why would he? His lover is gone. He has to be worried about her, and besides, she was the only reason we were holding back. The coven needs power. We gave it all to him, glutted him on it, and look at what happened.”

Of course there would be someone who already brought up a sacrifice. Jessamine was the only thing standing between him and certain pain. Death? No. He couldn’t die, after all. But there was the suffering as they drew out his pain for as long as they could before they sacrificed him for all the magic they had given him.

It wasn’t a bad idea. It wasn’t even one he blamed them for. He hadn’t done much for them. He’d brought them here, convinced them that they were doing the right thing, and then disappointed them. There was no blood to feed their thirst; no man was dead for harming them. There was only failure after failure.

Elric feared without Jessamine, he was nothing but a lingering shadow at the whim of a coven who had already shown an interest in sacrificing him. They didn’t know he had overheard their whispers, and none of them had said it to his face yet.

But he knew a coven was nothing without magic. A coven could do very little until he gifted them the magic they needed. At some point, they would hunger for more. At some point soon, they would need to go to war again.

“What do you think that man is doing to her?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think he’s known for being kind, and that was before he had a god in him.”

“Probably torturing her for information about us.”

“No, that’s not logical. Clearly, he didn’t think we were a threat, and obviously we aren’t. We had more power than we’ve ever had, and it was so easy for him to toss us all aside like twigs! We need more if we’re ever going to win.”

Abruptly, he stood and strode out of the seaside shack. He couldn’t stay while the weight of their expectations pressed down on his shoulders. He just needed a few minutes. A few breaths. He’d be fine, and he’d come back in to tell them a plan that would get her back.

Everyone fell silent and watched him with wide eyes as he walked out of the room. Perhaps he opened the door a little too hard, and maybe it slammed against the side of the shack with a shocking bang, but he wasn’t exactly in the right state of mind. They had to understand that. They had to give him a little grace for what he was going through, even if it meant that later on they sliced through his flesh.

He’d let them do it. If it meant getting Jessamine back in one piece, he would sit in whatever darkness they wished. He’d let them take knives to his flesh and destroy every part of him.

Because he knew what his brother would do to her. He knew how talented Ajax was at convincing people they were worthless, and that the only person they could trust was him. Elric had spent his entire godhood under the thumb of his brother, who had told him over and over again that he would never be lovable, never be worthwhile for anyone to worship, and all he had to do was listen to Ajax and maybe it would change.

It hadn’t. Years upon years, coven after coven, he’d failed just as Ajax had said he would.

At least, until now. Until he had been gifted a gravesinger who saw him as a person and not a tool. Of all the things that could have happened, he had never anticipated losing her.

The door opened and closed behind him, but he was already heading down the beach. Elric didn’t want to talk to anyone. He just wanted a few minutes alone.

It took very little for Sybil to catch up with him. The woman was long legged and determined. He expected her to scold him, or at the very least tell him that barging out of the shack while they were all trying to figure out what to do was an immature response, and he needed to behave.

But she didn’t. She only slipped her hand into his and tugged him closer to the sea. Elric let her push and shove at him until she had him settled on the sand just out of the waves’ reach. The sound of them rushing toward him and then slowly retreating grounded his mind, just like the sensation of the sand beneath his feet and hands.

Sybil didn’t have to say anything. She anchored him in the moment until he was ready to speak.

Elric took his time. He got his head back in line and his fears grounded, so he could actually think through this abysmal feeling.

“I am afraid,” he said. “I never thought the other gods would return. I thought they were all dead and gone for good.”

“So did I.” She stared out at the sea with a troubled expression. “It’s not a good thing that he’s returned. I’m afraid of what that means. I thought…”

Her words trailed off, and he glanced over at her. She was still looking at the waves, but he knew she was looking far beyond that. Into the past where they had both lived and known what these gods could do.

“You thought?” he prodded.