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The god recovered quickly, smug as he said, “Your turn to be honest. Do you envision a happily-ever-after with the Astra?”

Yes. No. Maybe? She both was and wasn’t Halo’s gravita. They both did and didn’t have a future. Even though he’d been attentive to her, he’d held a part of himself back. The trust she’d lost, as well as the ease he’d gained.

If he was forced to kill her again, he would grow to resent her. He might not mean to, but he would. His ease might not ever return. Could she really do that to him, simply for another dose of strength?

“You think you have options,” Erebus continued. “You cling to the notion there’s a chance you and Halo can both survive this. Maybe you even believe you can sacrifice yourself in the end, one last time, and return to life as Taliyah did. But I assure you, if either of you kills the other on the last day, you are gone forever. The rules forbid a resurrection. I made certain of it.”

“And you intend to pit me against him in the final battle?” Knew it.

“Why wouldn’t I? Could anything hurt him more? Your death will cut deeper than an affair between us ever could.” He took another sip of his wine. “The poor male has had a terrible life. Forget his mother’s murder and his father’s rejection. To become the Machine, young Halo was forced to assassinate other children, even friends.”

Reveal nothing. “Yes, he told me.”

“He told you some, but not all. I highly recommend you mention Five. The memory he relives every time he slays you.”

Five...what? She wanted to naysay him but couldn’t. Halo himself had confirmed it. You are forcing me to relive and repeat my worst memory.

Was this “five” thing the “worst memory” of Halo’s life? She gulped, hating that the enemy knew more about her male than she did.

“Thank you for the advice I won’t be heeding.” Maybe. Probably.

He shrugged. “Your loss. But I swear by all I hold sacred; I offer you wisdom from the ages. The memory threatens to decimate the foundation upon which your relationship stands. If you do not know the enemy you fight, you do not engage. Fail to engage and you lose by default.”

He wasn’t wrong. “Aw. It’s almost as if you care about my well-being.”

“I hope to draw you and Halo closer together, nothing more. If he loves you beyond reason, he’ll betray his brothers. The only good thing in his life. They will die, one by one. Think of the blame he’ll carry. I can already taste it. Though he adores you, he’ll associate you with that blame and fall from the greatest peace to the worst torment. On the other hand, if he loves you beyond reason and doesn’t betray his friends, he must live with your loss, understanding he could have saved you. This is a win-win for me.”

Her stomach flip-flopped. Doomed?

No. No! Not doomed. Not in the slightest. “We will overcome.” There was always a way; they had only to find it. “I already have an idea brewing.”

“Ah, yes. Your idea. You think you’ll gain enough strength to control the beasts and attack me. Let’s say you do it. Nothing changes for Halo. The final battle won’t end until one combatant is dead.”

Yes, Halo had said the same. “We will overcome,” she repeated, but this time her tone was hollow.

“Look at what Halo did to the hind. Such a beautiful creature. Birthed from Mother Nature herself. Yet, your Astra decapitated it without hesitation. What do you think he’ll do to you during the last battle? Do you foolishly assume you’ll fare any better?”

No. No, she didn’t. Halo had made it clear. The Astra came first, and all obstacles got eliminated.

Though she wanted to slink in her chair, she forced her spine to remain ramrod straight as she craned her head to meet his gaze. “I think your days are numbered, and I greatly anticipate the last.”

He grinned, as if enchanted with her, then extended his hand. With a voice as soft as silk, he said, “Twine your fingers with mine, or I’ll cut them off one by one and force the Astra to watch, unable to do anything to aid you.”

What, he hoped to entice Halo from his goal with jealousy?

Ignoring the offering, she reclined and placed her forearm on the arm of her throne, a willing sacrifice even outside a battlefield. “Go ahead. Cut them off.” She had already died four heinous deaths. The loss of a few appendages? Yawn.

“You think I bluff?” He slowly withdrew a dagger from the pocket of his robe. The dagger. The Bloodmor. The one he’d once thrust into her chest—a chest now heating, burning, singeing.

The monsters beat at their cages, rattling her confidence.

Was she soon to turn? Sweat beaded on her brow.


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