“Your task?” She huffed. “You make it sound as if the sex you will engage in is a sacrifice.”

  “My sacrifice is in knowing I might lose you, the woman I love.” He hated the idea of using her words against her, but if it gave them a chance, he would. “Do not forget that sex and lust are not the same as love.”

  “The Triad knows I love you. It will not consider that a sacrifice.”

  She didn’t say she’d forgive him, but what was left unspoken gave him hope.

  His air escaped on a long exhale. “I fully expect to have to offer it another sacrifice.”

  “Just one? It will take everything.”

  He held her gaze without answering. She was most likely right.

  She shook her head. “No. I won’t allow you to make such a foolish deal.”

  “You cannot stop me.”

  “You cannot enter the heavens unless I open a portal for you, and I refuse.” Minerva closed the distance between them and pressed her palms to his chest. “Your compulsion to avenge the innocent has blinded you. I won’t allow you to make a decision that’ll damn us both in your quest to stop Dagda. There must be another way.”

  “There is not.” That truth had tormented him for a century. “And if you won’t open the heavens for me, I will make a deal with Michael, just as you had with Lucifer.”

  She froze. A long moment passed while Minerva held his gaze, and he silently beseeched her to agree. He didn’t want to deal with the angel. Michael would demand Arawn’s soul as payment. Maybe not literally, but the price would be just as precious.

  “So be it.” She pivoted on her heel, then waved her hand.

  The candles that had been knocked over righted. She cupped her hands over her mouth and blew. A whoosh sounded, and the wicks lighted. Thunder cracked next, and the breeze emanating from her carried the scent of rain. A storm cloud formed within the ring. Drops of water fell. Seconds later, lush grass pushed from the hard stone. The rain shower ended, and the wind died.

  As if her exhale expelled her darkest emotions, the blackness retreated, leaving her hair silvery and the swirls by her eyes molten. She turned away and hung her head, the tinkling sound of the strands calming the last of the anger hovering around her. “It is done. Reach out to me when you are ready to return, and I will bring you home.”

  He closed the distance between them, then laid his hand on her back. She stiffened. He opened his mouth to apologize once more, but he closed it without offering his regret again. He’d already expressed it. It wasn’t enough. There was only one thing left to say.

  “I love you, my goddess. Always.”

  Her silence answered him.

  He waited a moment more, then forced his feet to move. The circle of life she’d opened awaited him. He stepped over the flames, and the wind picked up, molding his loose tunic to his body. The breeze tugged at his very being and yanked him through the portal. Blackness overtook his vision and sounds faded, but her whispered words reached him as his world fell away.

  “And I love you, my dark lord. My eternal fidelity is yours. This I vow.”

  Chapter Four

  The intense, pure light of the heavens blinded Arawn. He squeezed his eyelids shut, the most he dared do in order to counter the pain spreading through his body. Any more would be considered a weakness. None could be shown, not even to the being who knew his every flaw.

  “Arawn, Lord of the Underworld, it is about time you came.”

  The Triad’s voice surrounded Arawn. He cracked his eyelids, but only the endless expanse of white clouds greeted him. “You’ve been expecting me?”

  Why he asked, he didn’t know. The answer seemed important, however. Doubt had hovered in his mind ever since Minerva had first appeared to him. Learning about her deal with Lucifer compounded it. Arawn couldn’t help but feel…played.

  “Not played. Led.” The Triad responded to his unspoken thought, proving it could easily read Arawn’s mind.

  The deity’s intrusion didn’t anger him. Its words did. Arawn remembered the games among the other gods in the early days of the world. He’d hated it. The isolation of the Underworld had been part of the reason he’d accepted the role he’d been offered. The segregation from the heavens hadn’t offered him peace, however.

  He’d entered his eternal hell.

  And Minerva saved him from it.

  Arawn ground his jaw. “Manipulated, you mean.”

  “No. You cannot be controlled. Even the gods have free will.”

  “But you can take all my choices away save one, can’t you?”

  Silence answered him.

  “Well?” He knew better than to argue with the Triad. The tortured look in Minerva’s eyes pushed him to demand the truth.

  “You always have two choices, Arawn god of Hell.”

  Of course I do. He worked his jaw back and forth. “The right one and the wrong one.”

  “Exactly. Which have you chosen?”

  Doubt gripped him. Was there another option he’d missed?

  “There is not. Approach and make your request. It is the one required of you, and the one you should have made a century ago.”

  “First I must ask for a way to save the half-breed children Dagda is creating.”

  “Half-breed or not, they are fairies and out of our realm of control. The only way to help them is to stop their father.”

  “And the babe Minerva’s handmaiden carries? The child holds the power of the heavens. It cannot be lost.”

  “The deal for her soul has already been made. Play the role meant for you, and the babe’s heavenly goodness will be secured until she can be claimed by the one meant to wield her power.”

  The finality in the deity’s tone stopped Arawn from pressing for details. He’d learned what he needed to know. There were more lives on the line than just the humans if he failed.

  Controlled breaths calmed the rage brewing within him. He leashed the last of his wrath, then nodded. “I understand.”

  “Good. Come closer. Your time is running out.”

  A stark hall of marble and granite replaced the vast nothingness. He stepped out of the portal Minerva had erected. The moment his feet touched the floor, a pathway lined with flickering candles appeared. It led to another circle of green grass. He closed the distance, eager to leave the heavens. Although a god, he wasn’t welcome within the clouds of purity. He’d been banned from the goodness and light it offered.

  Not banned. Chosen. The Triad whispered the words in Arawn’s head.

  Resentment rose and mixed with the anger tensing his muscles. No matter what the Triad claimed, Arawn had been sacrificed when he’d taken the role as Lord of the Underworld. It appeared as if he would be turned into the Triad’s sacrificial lamb again.

  He stepped into the second portal. Arms outstretched and head tipped back, he took the same position he had the last time he’d been in the Triad’s presence.

  The day he’d been chosen.

  A laugh threatened to erupt. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop it.

  “I ask for the privilege to walk amongst the humans. I wish to create an army of demigods capable of traversing both the human realm and Hell. My children will become my Huntsmen and will act as my hand in the greatest battle of all time.”

  The Wild Hunt.

  “Such beings have the potential to be more powerful than any god, including you.”

  Capable of harnessing the power of Hell and unleashing it onto the mortal realm, they would be. Arawn guarded the Well of Chaos, along with the Sins. He was within his right to use all as he saw fit. He rarely did. No weapon could be wielded without consequence.

  “And the fact you understand that is why you were chosen as the guardian of the Underworld.”

  The Triad’s words should’ve pleased him. They didn’t. All he felt was the obligation that came with his role. “My Hunters will learn humanity from their human families and discipline from me. They will embrace their role as I have.”

  “Choosing duty over love?”

  The question caught him off guard, and unease settled over him. He couldn’t help but think any answer he gave would be the wrong one. He settled on the response he’d given Minerva.

  “Yes. I chose love once. Because of my actions, the fairies have unleashed the horrors of Hell upon the world, and the humans have suffered. That is unacceptable.”

  “A noble response. You wish to avenge the wronged. Is that correct?”

  Arawn inclined his head. “Yes.”

  “Why did it take you a century to reach this conclusion?”

  His shoulders slumped. Guilt weighed heavy on his soul. He’d known all along what he would need to do. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to make the choice, knowing the pain it would cause his mate. Minerva’s hurt and anger in the face of his decision proved his worry correct. Was it so wrong to want to be a male worthy of her?

  “And allowing humans to suffer or her handmaidens to be violated makes you worthy?”

  More remorse choked him. He raised his chin. “I have a responsibility to oversee the Underworld. It was imperative to reinforce the barriers of Hell.”

  “And it took you a century to do that?”

  Arawn stepped forward. “Can you change the past? Do so, and I will avert disaster.”

  The ground beneath Arawn’s feet shifted, and the deity’s anger washed over Arawn, choking him. Arawn locked his knees, refusing to crumple under the onslaught of power.

  “What are you willing to sacrifice to create your army?” the Triad asked, redirecting their conversation to the reason Arawn had entered the heavens. The diversion also reaffirmed Arawn’s guess that the god either couldn’t alter the past or wouldn’t.

  Unwilling to let the issue go, Arawn took another step. “Well? Send me back in time. I will—”

  “Answer the question. What will you sacrifice to create your army?”

  It all came down to a sacrifice. Another wave of resentment gripped him.

  Do you know why a sacrifice is required? The Triad’s whispered question teased Arawn’s senses.

  Arawn considered his response. Several thoughts surfaced. Only one made sense. “Because of free will.”

  “Yes, and because one choice can set a dangerous game into motion.” A game that must be won at all costs.

  Arawn frowned. “What game?”

  “The greatest of all, of course.” The Triad chuckled but no humor accompanied the sound. “The one that will determine the fate of the world.”

  Tension tightened Arawn’s shoulders. “And who are the players in this game?”

  “What are you willing to sacrifice to create your army?” The Triad repeated its question a third time.

  “And who are the players in this game?” Arawn pressed.

  “Answer the question or leave the heavens.”

  Arawn breathed deeply and pushed back his frustration. It wouldn’t help him. His path was set. “The comfort my mate bestows upon me.”

  “That’s not enough. You lived without her love well enough. Doing so again will not be a worthy sacrifice.”

  Arawn balled his fists. The Triad’s answer was the one he’d expected, but caution stopped him from offering another blindly. “What price do you demand?”

  “What are you willing to lose?”

  He flexed his hands before linking them behind him.

  “I’m not sure. Lead me into the response you want.” The Triad would anyway.

  “Minerva has not conceived a child by you.”

  He sighed. “Because I was meant to create my army.”

  Only. The word slipped through Arawn’s mind.

  A vise squeezed his chest, and sadness swamped him. Minerva had fantasized for years about what it’d be like to hold her child. He hated taking the right from her, but life as a god had nothing to do with fairness. The truth was harsh. Reality was often cruel, however.

  “I will give up my ability to have more children after my Hunters take their rightful places, and—”

  “So be it.” The Triad’s response cut him off.

  A glowing ball formed several feet away. Gold, red, and silver strands wove themselves into a tight mesh, encasing the pure energy of the heavens.

  The realization of what would happen settled over him. His heart beat harder, and his muscles tensed. The sphere rocked, then spun, faster and faster. A myriad of colors flashed.

  Flames burst from the orb’s center, and then it flew forward, hitting him and knocking him to the ground.

  The roar of his screams blended with those he lived with constantly. Utter agony gripped every fiber of his being.

  He convulsed and writhed for what could’ve been an eternity, but finally the torment ended. His breath rushed out. He pushed to his feet, then staggered to the edge of the ring.

  A shadowy figure took shape in front of him. “You have been granted mortality for one year and one day in order to build your Teulu.”

  His family of warriors bound to each other through him.

  He dipped his head. “Thank you.”

  “What will you sacrifice in order to return to your godly position?”

  Checkmate.

  The Triad had led him into a corner. Trapped in a human body, he had no recourse.

  “You do have another option.” The ethereal entity responded to Arawn’s thought, then stepped closer. “Choose one of the females you will lay with and live out your life with her. If you are lucky, you will form the bond with the human that your goddess is no longer able to create. Then Minerva will cry for you.”

  He breathed heavily. Hatred took root in his heart. He fought it, knowing to give in to it would destroy him. Desperate to conquer it, he conjured Minerva’s image. Peace spread through him. So did love. He felt her touch and knew in his soul she’d taken away the debilitating animosity he held for the Triad.

  Her lips brushed his. Be at ease, my dark lord. We both have been played, but our love is strong. I might not forgive you easily, but we will survive.

  Minerva, love you. He opened for her kiss, but she vanished on a puff of rain-scented air. Leaving him alone.

  No! Not after the hope she’d offered him; he’d be able to earn her absolution.

  “What will you sacrifice to return to your godly position?” the Triad repeated.

  Arawn dropped to his knees. “Anything. Everything. I offer it all.”

  “Your children?”

  Protective instincts flared. “My children have not yet been conceived. They are innocent.”

  “If you do not return to your rightful role, your innocent children will destroy the world. They need you.”

  His breaths quickened into pants. “Then why demand anything?”

  “Nothing is gained without sacrifice. You know this.” The ethereal figure grew in size. Sparks flashed within its murky form. “Last chance. Will you sacrifice your children?”

  “Their lives? Their souls? What? You must be specific.”

  “Their pain. Their suffering.”

  Arawn frowned. “I do not understand.”

  “For a century, the fairy king has caused pain and suffering because you were weak and couldn’t make the choice required of you. You must pay for each scream the humans have uttered.”

  “Then punish me, not my children.”

  “Pain means nothing to you. We both know this.”

  It was true. The only anguish he experienced came from knowing innocents had to bear it.

  “Exactly, which is why helplessly watching your offspring suffer will be your punishment, and their screams will pay the debt you accrued over the past century.” The Triad leaned closer. “Tenfold. They will suffer tenfold. Only then will they get the chance to right your wrong and stop Dagda.”

  A millennium of pain and suffering—that was the price his children would pay.

  “And while they do, the humans will continue to suffer!”

  “Then they must do their best to reduce the threat before they are imprisoned. The wild race to take out the members of the Unseelie Court will test your Hunters’ worth and determine whether they deserve to find their heaven.”

  A growl crawled up Arawn’s throat, and his body vibrated. Had he still been able to wield his powers, he would have lashed out at the Triad. He wanted to deny the price the Triad demanded. The memory of what the humans had experienced in the years the fairies and their creatures roamed the earth stopped him. So too did the one truth he knew about being a god, even a demigod—why have eternal life if you weren’t willing to shed it for the good of the weak?

  “They will live?” Arawn asked to be sure.

  “After the correct sacrifice has been made and they have paid their price in blood and tears, they will be released from their prison of suffering.”

  Image upon image flashed before him. Each and every death the fairies or their abhorrent creations had caused was his fault. He’d failed in his duty.

  Because he chose love.

  Arawn closed his eyes. They burned. “I agree to your conditions.”

  “So be it.” The Triad sighed.

  The sound chilled Arawn’s blood, and a sense of foreboding gripped him. He’d made the wrong choice. “Wait—”

  “Your request is granted”—the Triad’s booming voice cut him off—“but there is one more thing necessary to carry out our deal.”

  A murky cloud surrounded Arawn, and the rhythmic chant of a curse echoed within his head. He listened to the words, and their meaning became clear. The trepidation he’d felt moments ago seized him, stronger than ever. He opened his mouth—a denial on his tongue. He changed his mind. The price was too great.

  No words would form.

  Too late, Arawn, Father of the Damned. It is too late.

  The smoke dissipated, revealing a dagger. The runes etched onto the surface glowed. Power emanated from it. Arawn recognized its source—fairy magic, the same living force that made up the fairy realm, the one he’d used to reinforce the barriers of Hell. Hungry, evil, and unending, it would feed upon those cursed…for an eternity, not merely a millennium.

 

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