Page 91 of A Kingdom of Wild and Power
For just this moment, he wanted her to forget the world.
And for just this moment, he wanted to believe they could.
Ash eased Mal down onto the wet sand, the tide whispering close by, the storm-breathed air heavy around them. With unhurried care, he drew the dark fabric of her dress away, his gaze lingering not with hunger alone, but with reverence at the strength of her body, at the quiet miracle of life she carried within her.
He shed his own clothes and traced her with his mouth, with his hands, learning her again as though the world beyond the beach no longer existed. She breathed his name into the wind, fingers curling into the sand as the waves crept nearer, as sensation overtook thought.
He fucked her beneath the open sky, the sea and storm bearing witness, until her voice broke on his name and he held the sound of it like something stolen and precious.
When lightning split the horizon, Ash smiled as if he were certain that somewhere beyond the surf, beyond the veil between worlds, Thanatos had heard it too. Had heard her gasp Ash’s name.
Ash had always been a selfish boy.
And now, now he had become something far more dangerous than that.
I think Themis and I understood each other in a way that others did not. We didn’t necessarily like each other, but we did understand the difficulty of having a child that wanted us dead. I used this to get her on my side. To twist her arm, and make her believe that she wanted to help me.
I’ve always been good at manipulating those around me.
Tabitha Wysteria
Eris tore into the Underworld like a bolt of living lightning, her wild cackle echoing across its furthest reaches. She found Zagreus striding through the Fields of Mourning, an enormous white wolf padding loyally at his side.
‘Tell me,’ she said, delighting in the way he halted at the sight of her, ‘now that your sister Makaria no longer oversees this corner of the Underworld… is the position vacant?’ She laughed at the sharp narrowing of his eyes. ‘I’m only jesting. I would loathe such a dreary responsibility.’
‘Charon ought to forbid you entry,’ Zagreus muttered, loudly enough for her to hear.
Eris waved him off and swept past, her grin stretching wider when she heard his footsteps follow. ‘Charon adores me,’ she said lightly. Every visit required her to cross by his boat, to beferried into the realm of the dead. She never minded. It was a pleasant journey, especially since Charon never spoke, and she so enjoyed needling his silence.
‘Why don’t you return to your own realm?’ Zagreus asked.
‘Because it’s dreadfully empty,’ Eris replied with an exaggerated pout. ‘Utterly tedious since everyone fled. My parents linger in the mortal world, as does my sister Enyo. Thanatos is bound here, along with my dear sisters the Moirai. There’s simply no one left to torment.’
‘Perhaps it’s empty because they wish to avoid being tortured by you.’
Eris paused, her smile deepening into something sharp and pleased. ‘Do you truly think so?’
Zagreus stopped, tilting his head.
Eris shrugged and resumed her stroll through the fields. ‘Well,’ she said lightly, ‘you’ve given me much to ponder.’
They reached the gates that divided the fields from the castle beyond. Eris plucked a black rose from the earth, lifted it to her nose, then recoiled with a grimace at its rotten scent. The gates groaned as they swung open, and she skipped through them, humming a soft, careless tune beneath her breath.
Persephone sat upon her throne in the great hall, irritation carved plainly across her face. The sight delighted Eris, especially when Persephone noticed her and unease crossed the queen’s features.
‘Has something happened?’ Persephone asked, leaning forward.
Eris tilted her head as she stared at the great black antlers crowning Persephone’s skull. She idly wondered what it would feel like to seize them, to wrench and tear until they snapped, until the queen bled beneath her hands.
Eris would love to see Persephone bleed.
Then again, Eris wanted to see everyone bleed. It was simply her nature. Gods were not gentle beings, and she had been born into one of the cruellest realms of divinity to ever exist—one of the most powerful bloodlines, yes, but also one steeped in pain and torment, in domination and decay.
She was the goddess of chaos and ruin.
And even if she had wished to be kind, she could not have been.
It simply was not in her nature.
