Page 246 of Vasmora

“What is happening?”

“She has chosen.” Deimos said. “You will be sent back to the Aethyr. Come, A’miszhla. Let us return together.”

Her face pinched to rage, and she shook her head. “No. No! This cannot be!” Stormy, silver eyes flicked to mine. “I must strengthen my bloodline!”

A scream tore out of her, and she slashed her nails toward my throat, but they failed to make contact. A skull flashed up in place of her face, perhaps a glimpse of what lay beneath her beauty.

“You have no power here, Morsana. It resides with her now. And as she is my daughter, you have no claim. Return to the Aethyr.” Deimos stepped toward her, holding out his hand. “Come.”

She stumbled back a step, her expression flickering between anger and distress. “I was fated to remain!” she gritted out. “The prophecy of the bimillennial moon.”

“What happens to you now?” I dared to ask.

A look of disgust washed over her. “What do you care? You did this to me!”

“She will resume her place in the Pantheon with the other gods,” Deimos answered for her. “Every soul that passes through Caligorya will strengthen her. Strengthen you.”

She lurched toward me, but stopped herself, her lip quivering. “I will be forgotten.”

“I won’t let that happen. I agreed to serve you, and I will.”

Gaze lowered, she shook her head. “I should’ve known. I chose you, knowing the flame could not harm you. You were to be the first immortal vessel. I could’ve produced so many children through you. An army with my ichor running thick through their veins.”

The very thought of that had me stifling a grimace.

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she angled her chin high. “My power now runs through you. You will be a steward for the dying. Offer mercy to the sick and suffering, and ensure balance to the living. No other god shall hold greater power, so long as you breathe. You will see to that.”

Everything she said was foreign to me. I hadn’t a clue how I would level the power of Pestilios, but I nodded anyway.

“And above all, you will not allow Death to be forgotten.”

“I won’t.”

Her lips formed a stubborn line. “Then, my power is yours. Do not fail me, mortal.”

Deimos lashed a flame that wrapped around her waist, and he reeled her close. “Let us return.”

She turned away from him, shame burning across her cheeks. “It isn’t me you want.”

“My love died centuries ago.” He hooked her chin, angling her face to his. “I want you now.”

“And you’ve forgiven me?”

“I’ve forgiven you.”

Morsana nodded, a sad smile playing on her lips. She took his hand, stepping into the flames that engulfed the two of them as they embraced.

Dizziness settled over me.

The world spun too fast in my periphery, a black curtain closing in on the fringes, and I collapsed to the ground.

In that lightless void, I dreamed. Bonding with Zevander. Lying against his chest with sunlight warming my face. Pillow fights with Rykaia. Tearful laugher with Aleysia. The wind through my hair as I rode on the back of Raivox. A child in my arms who bore a striking resemblance to one I’d already held.

Life. Laughter. Love. So much love.

“Breathe!” Zevander commanded, and my eyes shot open with a gasp.

Above me, the moons glimmered through the trees, the light illuminating Zevander’s face as he held me to his chest, clutching my wrist.