“The chicken? Check. The live band? Check.” She taps her feathered pen to her lips in contemplation. Our world is a strange mix of new and old, modernistic and ancient. In the human world, we would be dressed as if we were from the fourteen hundreds, and there is no technology. Yet, we have pens and journals and modern literature. I’ve always been fascinated with Earth and the people on it, but I’d be the first to admit that I much prefer the simplicity of our home. There’s something beautiful in the mundane, something humans fail to replicate.
“Rebecca, I think we’re fine,” I say soothingly, and she flashes me a narrow-eyed glare.
“If we want this alliance to flourish, we need to impress him,” she states simply, huffing. Before I can even roll my eyes, she adds, “Unless you want Athena to scoop him up.”
My annoyance quickly transitions into anger. Athena is the bane of my existence. Not to be confused with the Greek goddess. This one couldn’t hold a sword if it would save her life, and she’s definitely not the Goddess of Wisdom.
No, our Athena? She’s the Goddess of Purity.
Real fucking ironic, considering she’s been with more guys in the last year than I have in the centuries I’ve been alive. Frankly, Athena is a bitch.
“So, we need to impress some fucking death god,” Desmond snorts, leaning languidly back in his chair. “Who the fuck cares? He’s probably a major prick.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too,” a charming voice says from the doorway. Instantly, we all freeze, turning towards the newcomer with bated breath.
The first word I can think of is golden. This man seems to be physically hewn from gold—gold hair, gold skin, and golden eyes that emphasize the harsh planes of his face. He flashes a boyish smile in my direction, and heat instantly flares in my stomach.
Helio regards Avery with unnerving intensity before dismissing him with a sigh, absently grabbing my fingers and playing with them. Desmond just laughs.
“So you’re the feared God of Death?” he questions with amusement. “You look…young.”
But Avery doesn’t wrench his eyes away from me.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says softly, his voice like honey.
My lips twitch as I give him a slow perusal, my thoughts drifting from what he can do for my community to what he can do for me. Thoughts that pertain to images of naked flesh, roving hands, and lust-filled eyes.
Mine.
“Please, have a seat. I would love the chance to get to know you.”
Preferably in the bedroom.
IT’S unfortunate that I fell in love with fucking Tate next.
Fucking Tate.
I honestly didn’t know he was a god until months after. The fucker lied to me for years, pretending to be a lowly servant, a warrior, a guard. He was one of the only men who refused to bow down to me. With a silver tongue and witty sense of humor, he cut through my defenses until I couldn’t help but love the asshole.
Fucking Tate.
My back arches off the bed with the strength of my orgasm, and Desmond pulls his lips away from my pussy, the evidence of my arousal glistening on his luscious lips.
“Damn, that was beautiful,” Avery says reverently as he strokes his cock.
Tate rolls his eyes. “She sounded like a fucking cow,” he deadpans.
I cross my arms under my chest, the movement pushing my boobs up. All of my men zero in on my pink nipples.
“Excuse me?” I question harshly as I stare at the newest addition to my…err…harem. I don’t overly like that word, but it’s no secret that these men belong to me, and I, to them. I firmly believe the God of Fate planted them in my life.
Even fucking Tate, who I can’t help but love almost as much as I hate.
He scrubs a hand through his garnet red hair as Helio coughs to cover up his laugh.
“I’ll say it one more time.” My voice is low and deadly. “Excuse fucking me?”
“You want me to excuse fucking you?” Tate asks dryly. “You make no sense.”
“You’re such an asshole sometimes,” I retort as I begin to pluck my nipples. As his eyes feast on my bare chest, I absently trace my areola. He can try and act unaffected all he wants, but I see his cock tenting the loose pants he wears.
And then…
I see it.
For a brief second, his face contorts and his hair changes color. Instead of familiar luscious, red locks, they turn dark and cut short. The freckles disappear from his face as if they had never been there in the first place. His body grows in bulk, almost rivaling Desmond’s athletic build.
“What the fuck?” I exclaim. He still feels like my Tate—I would recognize his soul anywhere—but…
He doesn’t panic at being discovered. Instead, he sighs warily, dropping the illusion with a snap of his fingers.
In my soldier’s place stands the God of Deception.
At my glare, he merely shrugs sheepishly.
“I couldn’t help myself,” he says without remorse. And…I believe him.
Our powers are not just gifts, but curses. I need to inflict pain more than I need air to breathe. Helio needs vengeance. Demond needs to fight. And Avery…he needs death.
“You lied to me,” I say, my nails pressing down on my sensitive palms, leaving behind crescent-shaped indents. Betrayal makes my blood boil, makes pain radiate down my chest as if someone had stuck a blade there.
“I lied to everyone,” he counters, attempting to appear impassive—but panic momentarily flitters in his normally apathetic gaze. He’s afraid I’ll send him away. He’s afraid I’ll leave him because of the secrets he kept. But I drink darkness and feast on pain. His demons are nothing compared to my own.
His appearance may have been a lie, but the hard man underneath is one I know intimately. One I…dare I say…love?
“Come here,” I snipe, beckoning him forward. “Make love to your goddess.” His eyes flare with heat as he shrugs off his pants, his proud cock on display.
