1. The God of Death and Curses

The Present

The dreadful day had arrived.

"Are you excited about your wedding, Lady Naia?" The servant stuck decorative pins in Naia's hair; each stab a reminder of what was to come. "Lord Solaris will make a wonderful husband, don't you think?"

Naia sat on a cushioned chair in the middle of her bedchamber, purposely avoiding her reflection in her vanity mirror. "I can barely contain my enthusiasm," she replied with a fair amount of dry sarcasm in her tone.

The servants worked quietly around her. One for each finger on her hand, brushing strokes of gold onto her fingernails. Two pinning her hair up off her neck. One at each of her feet. All faces she recognized but could recite nothing of importance regarding them as individuals.

She'd avoided growing close to them. They were easily replaceable, and their friendship would only bring her more heartache. Yet, she had an urge to confide in them, in hopes it would release the knot in her chest.

"You look beautiful, Lady Naia." Another servant stepped back to assess the blush on Naia's cheeks. Judging by the lilt of adoration in her tone, she genuinely meant the compliment. All Naia heard was pity. "The most beautiful goddess in the kingdom." The servant stepped out of the way of the mirror for Naia to assess her own appearance.

The smallest motion of her head sent the jewels dangling in her hair, making her feel like a child's toy.

A light groan escaped her. The glossy glitter over her eyelids made the green of her irises more vibrant, like a dewy forest in the morning hours. The golden jewels in her hair stood out against the metallic hue of her silver strands. She hardly looked like herself.

Among the ornaments, though, her butterfly hairpin held the most elegance—a small, but significant detail she was proud of. Shiny, refined golden wings, and dainty, chained tassels she found comfort in when they brushed the side of her neck.

Gifted to her by her father, Naia carried the hairpin with her everywhere. Something the servant must've noted and thought to include while doing her hair. The kind gesture reminded Naia of a precious past servant from her younger days.

Naia rolled her lips to distract herself from the familiar bleak-filled ache settling in her bones and adjusted her gown.

A gown Mira had chosen. Jeweled-tone blue velvet, embroidered with brass-colored flowers down the long sleeves. The fit hugged Naia's shapely hips, accentuating her curves in a manner that made her uncomfortable. Naia traced the low-cut neckline, giving nothing away to the eye, but exposing enough skin on her diaphragm to thrill imaginations.

"It is almost your birthday," the same servant said, clearly determined to strike up conversation.

Naia flung her gaze to the clock on her bedside table. "It's not midnight yet."

Time slipped away like a cloud moving from the sun. In precisely one hour, she would enter her eight-hundredth year.

She gritted her teeth, snapping her glare down onto the servant massaging her foot like it was the earth's toughest clay. The invasion of her personal space had her fisting her hands on the arms of the chair.

Unable to take another second, Naia snatched her foot away. "Enough."

She rose from her chair and dismissed them all with a wave of her hand. "You are all free to go."

One by one, with their heads bowed, they scurried through the amethyst-cut doors of her bedroom. A rainbow pattern from the skylight reflected on the crystal exterior.

Something beautiful. A rarity within the walls of Mira's palace.

The great hall would be lavishly decorated for the event. Satin draperies woven through the vaulted ceiling. The crystal walls shining fervently under the twinkling lights. And all the deities invited crammed into one room.

Naia's chest constricted.

She glanced over at the clock again.

It's almost time.

Naia had planned this night months ago as a last resort. Out of sheer desperation.

Summon them, her father once told her, and they will always come.

A deity's true weakness was their curiosity. Her plan would work. There was a sureness in her gut telling her so. She just had to avoid getting caught.

If she did, Mira would punish her.

A Thousand Strikes.

The muscles in Naia's back contracted. Scars that had healed centuries ago, but her body would never forget the agony of being struck by her own mother.

A cold sweat zapped down her spine. She paced across her bedchamber and unlatched the window—squirming her hips to hike the absurd amount of layers of her dress up her thighs and hoisted herself up over the ledge. Her bedroom window came out in a secluded corner of the courtyard, hidden by a row of shrubbery.

With the grace of a duck, she tripped over the ledge and landed on the cobblestone, letting out an unflattering grunt.

Naia dusted herself off and began down the path.

It was unfortunate she couldn't take in the night. The air was thick with moisture and a floral fragrance. Above her, a swarm of jellyfish drifted across the shards of moonlight piercing through the layers of the sea. Their wispy tendrils fluttered leisurely in the water, giving off a warm light to the clouds of fish journeying through the lush stalks of the kelp forest visible on this side of Kaimana—Mira's kingdom beneath the sea.

Voices sounded ahead with casual chatter. Naia cut into the garden, her squeaking footfalls in the sand drowned out by the blood whirring in her ears. Deities from all over saturated the palace grounds, and she needed to refrain from being seen.

Naia brushed past the bloomed hibiscus and beneath the canopy of yellow Angel's trumpets, and raced across the bridge where the River of Souls flowed in. She could overhear the mortal whispers as their souls scurried down the current on their way to the Land of the Dead.

Her destination was the opposite side of the palace. The south wing, a perfect place to meet in secret.

The guards standing at the entrance acknowledged her with a look.

They all appeared the same to her in their loose, flowing white trousers, slick muscled chests, and golden chains dangling around their biceps.

Naia whisked by and said, "I was never here."

They bowed their heads.

"Yes, Lady Naia."

The wing was desolate, with no sign of life. Every corner of the wing loomed with dusky shadows that brought comfort. Closed in, hidden from the outside world of Kaimana. The wing belonged to her father long ago.

Naia stepped inside the dark library, greeted by the smell of dusty book covers and aged paper. Rows of bookshelves and the leather-bound settee rooted up memories of Naia's childhood with her father. Hours spent with her nose hunched in a book as he taught her to read. The excitement in his eyes when he told her of the world beyond the sea dared her to dream.

One of Naia's favorite pastimes was playing chess with him. She'd enjoyed watching the creases of concentration line his brow, paired with the way his hand lifted to his chin as he pondered his next move.

It had been centuries since she last saw him, but the ache in her heart was still fresh.

What would he think about what she was about to do?

Grant me some of your bravery, Father.

Naia inhaled a breath, gathering her courage, before entering the room. The outside lantern light shining through the windows illuminated it.

The name sat at the back of her throat.

She licked her lips, stalling.

Her fear was like ice in her veins. There could be another way…

You are running out of time.

Just say his name?—

"Lord Cassian, High God of Death and Curses." It left her mouth in a hasty jumble. She exhaled and dropped her shoulders. "Come to me."

A sharp sound sliced from behind as the god manifested in the corner of the room. His presence fanned ebony tufts of smoke, like rays of glimmering dark sunlight seeping out of a cup and across the floor.The air thickened with his aura, straining the breath in Naia's lungs.

The god rested his back against a bookshelf, arms crossed.Naia pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth to maintain a neutral expression.

Cassian wore a tailored suit, the crisp, clean material emphasizing his masculine figure. His features, sharp and precise, were as if the universe took its time carving him. Shrouded by the shadows of the room, his alabaster complexion and pale blonde strands gleamed.

He was one of the most beautiful men she'd ever seen. All the High Gods and Goddesses were. The more mortals that worshiped them, the more powerful they were.And of the High Deities, Cassian was among those who had held their titles the longest. Middle deities rarely tried dueling him to take his place. Cassian had never lost. For five thousand years, he held the title of the High God of Death and Curses.

The first and sole High God of his lineage.

Naia bowed her chin out of respect. "I appreciate your time, Lord Cassian."

"Aren't you supposed to be preparing for your wedding, Little Goddess?"He didn't so much as look her way as he spoke.

"That is why I have summoned you."

He propped the back of his head against the shelf of the bookcase, giving prominence to the curvature of his throat."What do you want?"

The curse binding her to Kaimana was the first obstacle to getting out of her arranged marriage. She couldn't run away if she had nowhere to run to.

When she failed to respond right away, his gaze cut to her. Goosebumps prickled down her neck in response as she took in the depth of his eyes—two bottomless golden trenches capable of devouring her.

She clamped her fear by squaring her jaw. "I want to leave this place before my wedding."

Cassian glanced down at his watch. "In precisely forty-eight minutes?"

"Yes."

"Do what you want," he said. "Who's stopping you?"

Naia did not enjoy playing games, and the god toyed with her.

"I am stuck here." As if he did not know. "You are the one who cursed me."

He pushed off the wall to face her and straightened his already symmetrical tie. "I cursed you centuries ago, and this is the best you've come up with. Begging me less than an hour before your atrocious wedding to let you out of it?"

Shame burned her face. "Your curses don't exactly come with a manual on how to break them, and my prayers to the High Goddess of Fate haven't done me much good."

Cassian slid his hands into the front pockets of his pressed trousers. "Then perhaps you need to try praying to a different god."

"Lord Cassian, please. Tell me what I need to do for you to?—"

"The only way to untangle yourself from one of my curses without breaking it is to agree to a far worse one, Little Goddess. You know the rules."

Everything came at a price.

Fatigue tugged at Naia's muscles. Pulses of a whale call moaned through the walls, and she hung her head back to peer out of the skylight at the sea's lucid waters engulfing Kaimana. The tranquil white noise of waves breaking and the distant clicking of sea creatures were like a lullaby.

Gods, how she wished her life had been different;to have a mother who had never put her in this situation to begin with.

A battered yearning for affection that had long dried in her soul resurfaced. One she gave up on seeking to quench its thirst long ago.

The god before her was her only hope now.

Naia dropped her head to look at him. "Very well."

Cassian's head tilted slightly, his attention sharpening. "Your new curse won't be immediate. It will activate when the time is right."

Absolutely not. Do not be stupid, Naia.

"How will I know when that time is?"she asked.

"My mark will appear." His eyes downcast to her hand resting at her side.

Her fingers spasmed against her thigh, unsettled by the idea. "What curse will you force upon me?"

Cassian gave a small laugh. "You seem nervous now, Lady Naia."

She narrowed her eyes, ignoring the mountain-sized drop in her stomach hearing him use her name. "The spectrum of your curses is quite extreme. How do I know you won't turn me into a toad, make me go mad, or force me to be the bride of your underworld?"

In a blink, he appeared with less than a foot between them. His elegant movement sent a gust through her hair, one of citrus and mint, and her breath caught in her throat.

"I assure you, Little Goddess, becoming my bride would resemble nothing like a curse," he said slowly, like rolling a diamond around on his tongue. It unnerved Naia. "As for the terms of your new curse, it's best if you go on naively until the day comes."

Could she truly enjoy her freedom with his, no doubt nefarious, curse looming over her? It could activate in several days, a year from now, or even a hundred. Was she strong enough to deal with such an intense level of anxiety?

Perhaps the anxiety itself was the curse—to spend her days swallowed in a constant state of dread and paranoia until she lost her sanity.

Cassian would free her, and regardless of the consequences, she wouldn't allow the chance for freedom to slip through her fingers.

An old grievance prodded her thoughts, though. A question she never had the fortitude to ask him—until now, when she had nothing to lose.

"What could Mira have possibly offered you in exchange for cursing me here all those years ago?"she asked.

Naia wasn't always stuck in Kaimana. Prior to her curse, it was her fear of Mira keeping her from leaving. However, after a series of losses and grave suffering, Naia spitefully disobeyed Mira's order and left without permission to explore the Mortal Land. Those months of freedom earned Naia the punishment of a Thousand Strikes and one of Cassian's curses.

With a god as well-known and powerful as him, others were not worth his time unless they presented the right bargain.

"Truth is, Little Goddess, you fascinate me. Eight hundred years and you have nothing to show for it." He moved in a slow stride around her. "You are not the High Goddess of Night like your sister, Marina, nor the High God of Witchcraft and Sorcery like your brother, Finnian, or the High God of Slaughter like your other brother, Malik. Even the other two of the triplets are middle gods. But you…" He came to a stop behind her.

With her pulse staggering in the base of her throat, she angled her head to peek at him over her shoulder. Cassian was not a god she trusted to turn her back on.

"You are the firstborn to the High Goddess of the Sea, ruler of the tide for well over three-thousand years, and you are without a title." He took another step, coming close enough where Naia could feel his body heat collide with her backside. "A lesser goddess. No different than the servants who scurry through your mother's halls."

A fact that used to fill Naia with humiliation every time she was reminded of it.

It was a rarity for firstborns of High Deities to be powerless. Naia had spent the first part of her childhood praying for things to be different. Though, no amount of pretending to whisper the ways of water, like her mother could, or dance with nature, the way her father did, ever came to her.

"Take the deal or not." Cassian strolled around in front of her, his infinite gaze grabbing onto hers. "If you want to leave this place, you agree to my new curse."

She squeezed her fists, her fingernails biting into the skin of her palm.

As an immortal, death could not touch her. Whatever the curse inflicted, she was confident she could handle it. A year, or even a day, of freedom was worth evading lifetimes of misery stuck beneath the sea.

"I accept." The words were like dry rocks piling in her mouth.

Regardless of her doubts, she lifted her chin high. "Now free me so I can leave."

"As you wish." Cassian pulled his hand from his pocket and held it out between them.

Naia's eyes drifted from his face to his outstretched palm. It was much bigger than hers. Long, stodgy fingers, flawless skin, a valley of lines.

She understood by grabbing it she would seal their deal. During the exchange, he would mark her. Though it would not be visible until his curse activated.

An awareness twinged on the back of her shoulder, where her current curse mark was. A black lace design she refused to look at in the mirror but knew of its presence, due to the servants and their murmurs when they caught glimpses of it while she bathed or dressed.

Back when she'd received it, her two brothers had forced her down on her knees with a powerful hold as Mira watched from afar. Cassian had stood over her, and the gentle touch of his hand had amazed her, considering his reputation.

This time, he gave her the option to grab onto him. In the end, it was all Naia ever wanted. A choice.

She met Cassian's gaze. "Thank you for helping me," she said sincerely.

His eyes darkened with zeal, and regret twisted in her gut.

Before she could think too hard about her decision, Naia lifted her arm and shook the God of Death and Curses' hand.