Page 85 of The Endless One

And finally, he made a knot in the spell. A knot that severed the tie between Ajax and this man but left a sudden wealth of magic still tangled in that throbbing thread.

Like he had pulled an organ from the man, he turned with that magic coiled in his hands and held it out for Jessamine to take. It was a bundle of yarn in his fingers now, trailing up his arms in blood streamers, thrumming with magic and his blood, which dripped down his forearms and pooled in his hands.

“For you,” he whispered. “So many sacrifices today in our name, but for you, I wish you to take a sacrifice from a god. There is no one who will ever gift you such magic, but I…” Elric’s throat closed up for a moment, knowing that the other gods would be screaming at him.

He was debasing himself.

A god did not make a sacrifice to another.

He was putting himself beneath her when he should be fighting to stay above her. That was what gods did. They did not give up their gifts so readily. Not for anyone.

But he would for her. Elric didn’t care what the old ways said. He would throw them all to the wind and give up everything just to see her smile.

Jessamine reached for the sacrifice, then hesitated. “Elric, it’s yours. You took it.”

He shook his head. “It is ours. Everything is ours now, and I give this to you. Share it with me, my queen. Allow me to give you all that you deserve.”

The coven watched with wide eyes as Jessamine reached for the threads that had cut him so badly, saturated with his blood. And that magic seemed to glow in her hands. All the blood fell away, healing just at her slightest touch. It eased, relaxed, turned into something gilded and new in her palms as she cupped it and then drew it to her chest.

The energy sank into her, filling all the cracks that were just barely visible. The golden light that held her together was ever stronger now, looking like molten gold that ran in fissures throughout her entire body. His beautiful, broken woman, who had never stayed broken for too long.

Standing, he turned to look at the man who was still choking. His hands grabbed at his throat, trying desperately to say something else. But Elric already knew what he would say. He would argue he still had information. Don’t kill him just yet. There was more he could divulge.

Men like this always wanted a few more seconds of life. They were terrified of what waited for them, and so they would do whatever they could to keep themselves alive just for a few moments longer.

“You fear death,” he murmured, ignoring the man’s frantic nod as though Elric was ever going to spare him. “You should. I will be waiting for you there.”

And then at his nod, the coven lifted their knives. Elric didn’t stick around to see the gore and the violence. Instead, he wrapped his arm around his glowing, golden love and drew her toward the light at the entrance to the dungeon. Leading her away from his darkness so that they could get the revenge they both deserved.

“I know where he’s building that pantheon,” he said as they started up the stairs. “And I know what to do next.”

Elric moved her into a hidden part of their castle, his hands already twitching as shadows grew around them, readying himself for a spell. “I know that area,” he was already growling. “That’s not in Orenda.”

She’d only seen a little of what he had projected, but she could admit where Ajax had chosen to build had seemed oddly familiar. Like she’d seen that field before or had walked through it, or…

“Shit,” she hissed.

That field was here. It was in Inverholm. It was a famous section of her city because, once upon a time, an artist had decided that her kingdom had too many buildings and not enough greenery. It was a massive park in the center of her homeland. At one time, there had even been trees. But those had been cut down for many of the homes that needed to be built. Now it was a lovely blank canvas, just waiting for someone to build upon it.

But that someone never should have been Leon Bishop and the god who possessed him. They dared do this in her kingdom?

Rage boiled underneath her skin. She could feel it pressing against every part of her body, threatening to pop out in a wave of anger that she wasn’t entirely certain she could control. Jessamine had no idea what would happen if she let it free either.

Elric spun on her, his words quick and clipped. “If they are in this kingdom, we have very little time. He wants us to know. That is why he allowed that man to be caught, so we cannot—”

She interrupted him. “We have to go now.”

“We haven’t prepared anyone.”

“The coven is as prepared as they are going to get. You gave them all the magic you could before you died. We did everything we could for them, and they have been preparing on their own. You and I are gods.” She reached for his hands, squeezing them and trying to press her own bravery into him. “We knew this time would come. And now we have to move.”

She could see the hesitation in him. Though he had been ruthless and prepared only moments ago, now he had to face the demon from his childhood. The man who had beaten him over and over again.

But this time would be different.

Jessamine tugged him closer to her until their foreheads were pressed together. She pressed his hand to her ribs, so he could feel her slow inhale and long exhale. Breath by breath, she grounded him. “This time will be different,” she said, knowing her touch alone wasn’t enough. “You have me. You have a coven. You have done everything you could to make this time so obviously different that no matter what happens, we will win.”

“I do not wish to lose any of you.”