Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 123065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
He barks out a laugh. “Yes, we are.” He nudges me. “But I’m not so bad, right?”
“No, person who’s going to murder me, you’re sadly the best out of all of them.”
He preens like it was a compliment, then his smile falters. “There is one that you might enjoy now that Apep’s taken himself out of festivities.”
“Yeah, I know, Daggon.”
“Not Dag.” Cyrus clenches his hands into fists. “Tyrell. While he can be an asshole to everyone, during the festival he gets obsessed with a woman’s pleasure to the point that he’ll go for hours. One time the eclipse nearly ended and he was still pleasuring the sacrifice.” He frowns and looks down at his hands. “He fought me afterwards, said she was different. I think he formed a bond with her. He didn’t speak to me for twenty years after that. He knew it was necessary, but he still mourns her, I think.”
“Wasn’t she reincarnated?”
“Ah, that.” He gets serious, and stares out at the sea, then picks up a grain of sand. “Not one of these are the same, did you know that? Every grain of sand is different. You go back to where you came from, Cleo, but you will never come back the same. He searched for her, and it was like meeting a stranger. He tried to date her, seduce her, he did everything in his power, even using some of his power. It was too much for her to process. It, um, made her think she was crazy. She got drunk and drove into a tree.”
I gasp. “What?”
“We can’t interfere with humans. Her brain couldn’t process it, her soul didn’t recognize his, and in the end, his love and obsession for her was his downfall—his emotional death.”
I think of Dag and start to panic a bit; he said I was the downfall, the death.
So that leaves Dag out.
Inti just gives me dad vibes even though he’s sexy. Apep turned me down. Enki would probably poison me.
It’s Tyrell or Kratos.
Maybe in my last moments I can help him forget his heavy heart and bad memories. Maybe that can be my gift. Maybe he can imagine even, that I’m her so he has the ending he wants, not the destruction.
I look down at the sand and briefly mourn the woman’s life lost and whisper against the wind and waves. “Tyrell it is.”
I swear I can feel the intensity rolling off Cyrus in waves.
“Good.” He dusts his hands. “Good.” His eyes won’t meet mine, but his jaw is clenched tightly. He’s beautiful in the moonlight.
Slowly, I inch my hand across the sand and place it on his.
I expect him to jerk away.
To yell at me.
Instead, he grips it in his and continues to watch the waves. “We all make sacrifices for the greater good, Cleo. This is yours.”
So why does it feel like it’s his too?
CHAPTER 33
CYRUS
“To love is to give the most important and damaged parts of yourself to someone and ask them to keep them safe.” — Ra, God of the Sun
Istare at myself in the mirror. It’s always the same outfit, the same ones I bestowed upon the gods, the way mine was bestowed upon me.
I’m wearing a black tunic that has the holy symbol of the sun holding it together in a bright gold, with an attached black cape that runs down my back across the floor.
The top of my cape has bones protruding from it painted with dark red blood, a reminder of the sacrifice and of what will happen.
My arms are bare except for the tattooed hieroglyphics running up and down them that tell my story and the story of the trials.
I straighten my shoulders and lift my mask to my face.
It’s the sun.
The actual mask of the sun with all of its rays pointing in every direction, it’s black like a reminder of what will happen if I do not rise. If I do not ascend.
The mouthpiece is gold and covers the top part of my upper lip.
My chest burns.
I press my hand to it and take a few deep breaths. Never have I felt weaker. Maybe it was fighting the water for Cleo, or maybe something’s wrong with me.
That would be a first.
I quickly toss the thought away and leave my room. Tyrell and Enki are waiting with Daggon outside. Each of them has a different colored tunic to match their station: red, green, black.
And all of them are wearing golden masks.
“Took you long enough.” Tyrell sounds bored; he won’t be for long.
I clench my hands at my sides. “Impatient little shit.”
It just comes out.
He pauses, and slowly tilts his head toward me. “Something wrong?”
“Let’s get this over with,” I grit out. “Is everyone at the beach already?”
“Yes.” Tyrell nods.
“Let’s not keep them waiting.”
I storm past them and stomp down the cement stairs, realizing suddenly that it will be the last time I do this and see Cleo in that cave.