Chapter 45

CHAPTER 45

I stare at the place she was.

Glittering ashes of her body and soul swirl around me, whispering across my skin in one last, stolen touch.

Her smile, laughter, kindness, and love are gone.

Everything that made her Freya is just . . . gone, blowing away with the wind.

"Well, she was not as foolish as she looked," someone jokes behind me.

They joke.

About her death.

As if I was not just forced to watch the only person I have ever loved kill herself to protect me.

She ended her own life simply for being born the way she was.

She was right.

We made her evil.

She was not born like that. Freya was kind and filled with laughter, but we stole that from her. She never would have been here if not for that necromancer and the gods. She would be in her coven, never knowing, happy with her demon.

Now she is gone like she never existed, a bad memory for them, but for me, my whole world was destroyed with her.

What is the point of going on?

Adder accused me of not being able to keep her safe, saying I would be unable to choose between her and my duty, and he was right. When it counted, I failed her. I hesitated, and she knew it. She saw it, and she saved me one last time when I couldn't save her.

I did not deserve her, and neither did this world.

They always told us the lives of many were more important than the lives of a few, but I do not care. I would give anything for her to be before me, and it's then I realise I do not care anymore about this duty, my purpose, and this world.

I care nothing for it without her.

"I had given up on this world and our duty before her. Did you know that?" I snap at them, anger filling the pavilion as I face them. Magic pounds through me, demanding their heads for what they made her do, but I would have to take my own as well. I am no better than they are. "What is the point in doing our duty if we cannot protect those we love?" I shake my head, a bitter laugh escaping me. "We are pointless figureheads. We do nothing, yet we judge everything. It is not the world that doesn't deserve us. It is us who don't deserve it. We know nothing of the way they love. They live such short lives, but they live more freely than any of us, while we are an archaic, useless body." I stare at them, knowing they will never change. "I was happy," I whisper. "You stole that from me. I would have given all my lives for just one with her. I pray you never know this feeling inside me now. I pray for all of this to end," I admit. "All of us . . . It's pointless. We are pointless."

I fall forward, my bellow of agony filling the world as my back bows. I feel so much pain, I choke on it as grief consumes me.

I now understand why they did what they did and why they were willing to burn the world for losing those they loved.

I let the pain wash through me and fill my soul. I deserve for it to hurt.

Find her , a voice says in my mind, and I lift my head to see Mors staring at me. What is gone is never truly gone. Her power lives on. Find her and bring her back before it's too late.

I frown, unsure what he means. She is dead.

Death is never truly the end. It is just another rebirth , he tells me. She lives on in what she loved.

My eyes widen as I realise what he's saying, and a spark of hope fills me.

You will have to give up everything . He leans forward. A warning, my friend. You will have to embrace what she did to bring her back.

I do not care , I tell him. I will do anything . I clamber to my feet, watching him, and then I nod my head in thanks.

He gets to his feet, standing away from the others, and we stare at each other for a moment before I turn and walk to the edge of the pavilion.

"Phrixius, if you take another step, you are forsaking your duty . . . your godhood."

"Then I forsake it," I snarl, my lip curled in disgust and anger. "As my woman would say, fuck my duty and fuck you. It means nothing without her. I am done. I am done with it all. I do not wish to be a god anymore, not without her. Take your duty and your laws, I will not live without her."

As I walk away, I swear I feel the god of death's approval wash over me, but it's snatched away, stolen by my pain and anger as I take a step off the pavilion and fall.

I am coming, Freya. Hold on.