Forged by Fate

flicked again and he rumbled so low she felt it in her bones, but he came and sat beside her.

Lamech shook his head. “I never thought I’d see a lion tamed to obey like a dog.”

She smiled and stroked Eri’s mane. “Not quite like a dog, from what little I saw. The dog wants to please its master. Lives for praise. Eri only does so to serve his own interests. The pride eats better with Reu’s help hunting, and fire keeps the hyenas and vultures from their kills.”

“Only Elohim could tame the wild beasts, Eve. Until you.”

She looked away from his face. The earnestness. The belief in his eyes and the faith in his heart. He was so much like Reu. “If I can do this, Adam can too.”

Lamech made a noise in his throat and she could feel his disgust. “Can, perhaps, but would never lower himself to bother with lesser beasts. And he would not think to help them in exchange.”

Reu and Hannah returned with the others before she could answer. There were many this time, and Eve recognized Seth and Sarah and Enoch among them. She rose to welcome them, offering food and water, and the softer furs she’d been able to sew together into blankets. Eri slunk away from so many strangers, his teeth bared, but Eve calmed him and sent him outside.

In the end, she and Reu slipped from the cave to sleep on the stone above with the lions for warmth and the stars for privacy. She wondered how long it would be before she was used to all their thoughts and emotions washing over her like water in the stream. There were so many dreams, and even prayers floating through her mind. But then Reu kissed her and all of it dropped away.

Eve woke before the sun came up and it took her a long moment to understand what had pulled her from her dreams. Then she heard Eri’s angry snarl and Tzofi’s answer from below. She sat up, careful not to wake Reu, and crept to the edge of the overhang where Eri stood, head low, body crouched.

It was barely more than a whisper on the wind, but she knew the voice and she shivered. Eri snarled again, ready to leap, but she put a hand on his shoulder and climbed quietly down to the earth.

Tzofi had him cornered against the rocks. His fingers closed around a stone that looked deadly sharp in the pre-dawn light, and his face was a mask of arrogance and anger. He stepped forward when he saw her, and Tzofi growled. She did not call the lion to task, but stared at him, covered in dust and dirt.

Adam had come.

“What do you want?” she asked.

He straightened, confident still, even with the lion ready to leap at his throat. But then she remembered he couldn’t be killed either, and her stomach wrenched. Perhaps she should have woken Reu.

“Food, shelter. The same as these others you’ve welcomed.” Weak fools, pathetic, really.

“You need neither,” she said, wondering if he realized she had heard him. Better if he didn’t.

“You would let Lilith starve to spite me?”

She looked back at Eri on the precipice. His silhouette golden with the first of the sun. “Maybe letting her die would be a kindness, instead of living under your control. And how do I know you won’t do the same to the others too, if I give you what you ask for? If I let you live among us?”

“Is it your choice to make? To condemn her to death? You rejected me and the power I offered you. You chose not to be a goddess when I would have given you the world. Who are you to decide if her life is worth living or not?”

“You are a threat to all of them, Adam.” His face was smooth, anger no longer hardening his eyes. But she could taste the bitterness of his emotions, still, on the back of her tongue, and the black fury, so well hidden from his expression, lashed against her mind like a pacing lion, snarling and snapping its tail. The others would not have her advantage, they would not realize he only waited for his moment to strike. “To all of us.”

“Not you.” He flicked his fingers to indicate the lions. “And you seem to have found a way to protect the others. But I could have done them harm already and I didn’t. It isn’t them you fear for, is it Eve? Did you give yourself to that dog?” His eyes raked over her body, his gaze burning. “Did you let him plant a child inside your womb?”

She wrapped her arms around her body, hating the way he looked at her. “Reu is my husband and he leads at my side, here.”

He laughed, harsh and low. “You would have done better to stay with me.”

“Lilith can come to us. I will not refuse her,” she said, speaking over him. “But you’ll have to ask Reu if he’ll have you.”

He grinned and stepped forward, only to be stopped once again by Tzofi, her tail switching wildly and teeth bared. “I can answer all your questions, Eve. I can help you here. Reu will know that. That’s why you want me to go to him. You want me here.”

She shook her head and turned away. “You can speak to him when he wakes. In the meantime, Tzofi will guard you to be sure you harm no one. Perhaps she cannot kill you, but she can hurt you, Adam. And she will, if you do anything to us.”

“And Lilith?”

The sun streamed over the stone, warming her face and arms. She hadn’t realized how cold she was, standing there, until the sun touched her again. “The lions will not harm her. She’ll be fed and sheltered. But if you hurt her again, I’ll have the same taken out of your hide by Eri.”

“I’m at your mercy, Eve.” But she didn’t like the way he smiled, or the flash of triumph in his eyes. She didn’t like the feeling that somehow she had done exactly what he had hoped she would.

She stroked Tzofi between the shoulder blades, encouraging her to watch Adam, to keep him from the others, to protect Reu most of all. And then she walked away, back to her bed on the precipice. Back to Reu’s side.

But her peace was shattered, and as long as Adam was near, she wasn’t sure she would ever get it back.

Chapter Thirty-nine: 154 AD

“Father, you cannot honestly be considering this!”

“Elohim’s daughter is a threat to all the gods, a threat to the very world we live in. The way these Christians are growing, we need every advantage we can gain. And was not the movement begun by her son? Only a fool would not consider it.” Odin sat back on his throne, a raven on his shoulder and the other high in the rafters.

Thor inhaled deeply through his nose and began to count, trying to keep his temper under control and the thunder from the sky. The Council was tomorrow. Losing his temper now would destroy any chance he had of convincing Odin he could not sentence Eve to death. “This can’t just be about us, Father, about our people. This has to be about the world. You say she is a threat to it, but I tell you she is its nurturer! The angels told me —”

“Of course the angels told you she was necessary. If she is the True God’s tool, his means of working within this world, then they would spare no lie, no deceit to keep her. They play on your emotions, Thor. You’re being turned against us, against your family, your people, your fellow gods. For what? Love of a woman you can never have? She would turn us all out into the void the moment you revealed yourself!”

“You know nothing of her, and worse, you have shut your mind to all reason.” He felt his eyes burn, and tried to calm himself again. The sky had begun to darken, but no thunder broke. He took another breath, and struggled to keep his tone even. “It only makes sense that she is here for a purpose. That she is made to protect humanity. To save it. We should not interfere in things we do not understand, Father. Surely you, in your wisdom, recognize this truth?”

“In my wisdom, I recognize that you have been subverted. I cannot be certain of your loyalty to me or mine, nor can I trust your judgment when it comes to the woman you call Eve. I have made up my mind.” Odin stood then, and glowered. “You will obey the Council’s decision, Thor, no matter what it is, and you will obey me.”

“I will speak my mind, Odin. And I will fight for her right to live tomorrow. If that means disobedience, so be