Blood Flows Deep in the Empire (21 page)

“We’re looking into it. Trying to see if there’s a way to reverse your promise to the Fates—”

“You know there’s not. And even if there was, what am I supposed to do? Go back on the promise I made to Dimithinia? Let her suffer? They won’t allow her to reincarnate. I’ve tried that avenue for thousands of years,” he snapped.

“And you think they’ll allow Ismini? The Universe calls for balance, even in times when said balance is threatened. Ismini’s soul will take the place of Dimithinia’s, and she won’t be allowed to reincarnate. Ever.”

Zen said it so fucking calmly. Yet Dyletri heard the condemnation in his tone.

He fell onto the bed and pulled at his hair. “Why are you pushing this? You know there’s nothing to be done. Damn it, why are you forcing the girl on me when you’re running from what you feel for her friend?”

Zen flinched.

“I . . . you know damned well that anything upsetting my tranquility threatens the wellbeing of those around me.”

Dyletri was about to ask him what the fuck he meant but then the answer came to him,
Mavrak
. It was that simple. It was that fucked up.

Zen hadn’t been born as Zeniel, God of Tranquility. No. He’d been born as Mavrak, the God of Vengeance, and Dyletri remembered a time, aeons past, when Zen had been trapped within that form. A time when his need to punish the guilty and avenge the victimized had consumed every bit of his rationale, causing destruction and chaos.

Even those who’d told little, white lies had been in danger of being consumed by the demon Mavrak had been.

Dyletri still remembered the painful and never-ending “ceremonies” that took place over a span of centuries. Ceremonies in which the God of Vengeance had been beaten into submission and locked inside his own body until his psyche had finally broken.

From the shattered pieces, Zeniel had emerged. He was the complete opposite of everything Mavrak had once been and stood for. The change was so profound Zen hadn’t remembered Dyletri when he’d gone to get him out of the dimension where he’d been isolated.

But there was no eradicating Mavrak completely. Just like Salicyar still lurked inside Dyletri. Ismini had forced his flip side out of him with a fury Dyletri had never expected. If she could do that to him, it made perfect sense that Evesse could threaten Zeniel’s calm to the most perilous point imaginable.

It also made perfect sense why Zen had to stay away from Evesse, no matter how much he wanted her.

“What the fuck are we going to do?” Dyletri asked, his shoulders slumping. A part of him wanted to tell Zen what he suspected, that he was mated to Ismini and would soon die, but he was almost afraid that voicing it out loud would make it that much more of a reality.

“I know what I have to do, however much it pains me. Now, you on the other hand . . . I am here on behalf of all of us, as well as Nylicia. Stay. Stay because it’s the girl’s last days and she deserves some happiness. We’ve all seen how she lights up near you. Stay because Destiny asks that you stay. If you choose to leave, only the Fates know what will happen. Stay, Dy.”

His words carved into Dyletri, making the poisonous self-hate running through his veins grow thicker. “What good would it do? Why would Destiny want me here? So I can grow closer to her? So she can grow closer to me? So that the sacrifice can destroy us both when the time comes?”

“Can I ask you something? Do you plan on being with Dimithinia once she returns?”

“No.”

The response came out faster than Dyletri could assimilate it. It didn’t surprise him, but it did make more guilt land on him with the weight of a continent. “Fuck . . . I . . . I mean . . . what if she still loves me? I . . . care for her. I know I do. But—”

“You don’t love her the way you love Ismini, Dy. You never did. You’re the only one who hasn’t seen it yet.”

Dyletri wanted to punch Zen for stating the obvious. Did Zen really think he didn’t know that? Hearing the words out loud was just too much.

I’m in love with her.

And he fucking knew it.

Dyletri wanted to hit something, anything, until the feeling Zen’s words evoked disappeared. He knew perfectly well they weren’t going to, not with the way those words were literally etching into his skin. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of chaos. He couldn’t breathe through all the uncertainty and agony.

All he could do was nod his head, yet he refused to say anything out loud. He knew the moment he did, he’d set forth events that would fuck over his promise to the Fates.

The inevitability pressed down on him, though. An inevitability that he’d thought he’d escaped a long time ago.

“All right, I’ll stay,” he said.

Zen smiled. “Good. I’ll let everyone know. We’re having movie night today. Maybe you can spend some time with Ismini before then. From what I gather, her life has been lacking in many things.”

Dyletri cringed before glaring up at Zen. “I know. Are you trying to torture me now?”

“No. Just saying. Take her down to the other side of the isle. We’ll set up a picnic for you guys. You can show her the valley. I’m sure she hasn’t seen anything like it.”

Dyletri nodded again, his hands hanging listlessly off his thighs. He sensed that Zen might have wanted to say something else, but he didn’t. He walked away, his steps echoing down the hall.

Dyletri let him go, feeling as though his soul was threatening total anarchy. It railed against him, but he’d learned long, long ago that once a being decided upon a path, it was up to him or her to see it through and make the best of it.

Gods and mortals alike were bound by that one universal law. Destiny put choices before you, but once those choices had been made, that was that.

And Dyletri had made his choices, hadn’t he? Asshole that he was, he’d condemned Ismini to her fate. The least he could do now was be there for her, regardless of what it cost him.

Not that he didn’t know damned well what it would cost him. He could already see it unfolding in front of him. He’d get to know Ismini better. Her fucking essence, what made her who she was, would brand him and haunt him for all eternity.

If he didn’t die first.

And wasn’t that a head-fuck? Not only was he in love with the woman he’d sentenced to die eleven thousand years earlier, he was also certain she was his mate. He would not only mourn her death, he would most likely be consumed with it, and then Dimithinia would return. But to what?

He would be dead, and even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t be able to give her anything. If he survived this,
shell
would be a kind way of describing what would be left of him.

Fuck me.

No matter how much he tried not to, he kept coming back to one thing. He didn’t fucking want Ismini gone. He couldn’t imagine it now that it was so close at hand. Now that he knew how he felt.

“I can’t imagine her gone, either. Know that?”

Dyletri was surprised to hear Nylicia’s voice. She stood in the same place Zen had occupied moments before, her tiny, translucent form glowing. Her expression was one of compassion and sympathy.

“You’ve been so confused,” she said as she walked into the room. The long skirt of her beige dress made it seem as if she were floating despite glimpses of her legs through the folds.

“Why are you here? Tell me it’s to help me out of the mess I’ve made. Actually, the mess
you
helped me make.”

Nylicia’s lips tightened, but she didn’t respond. She sat next to him, staring off into space.

“I never hated Dimithinia. If not for a decision the Aviraji made thousands of years before she was even born, her soul would’ve never been chosen for the destiny that awaits her.”

Dimithinia? What does she mean?

Dyletri stared down at the almost childlike figure next to him, wondering where she was going with this.

Nylicia took a slow breath. “Destiny calls for Dimithinia’s return. But it also calls for Ismini to be a part of our future.”

His chest nearly caved in from the hope that bloomed. “You didn’t say that before,” he said, his voice sharp. He glared at her, unsure of what to feel. His thoughts raced between anger, despair, desperation, and the possibly cruel, just awakened hope.

Nylicia hadn’t moved, that calm stare still unfocused. “I didn’t see it before.”

Dyletri couldn’t tell if she was lying or not.

“Well, then, what do you see now?” He tried to control the excitement. Was there really a way that he could bring back Dimithinia
and
keep Ismini?

“Destiny is changing. The Aviraji have messed everything up. Although I cannot see the full detail, I do know there is a war coming again. And I see Dimithinia alive and well and a part of that.”

“And Ismini?”

“I gave her powers at great cost to myself, because I saw it was meant to be. I also saw that she’s meant to give her life for Dimithinia and . . .
eh
,
eh
.” She shook her head when she noticed Dyletri was about to interrupt her. “Let me finish. It’s not clear how the things I see will come to pass . . . not yet anyway. But this war? I have seen that we all have a part in it. Dimithinia, Ismini, Evesse, even their friend Soleria. I don’t have details, but for once, can you please trust me, Salicyar?”

The idea of blindly putting his life,
Ismini’s
life, in Fate’s hands once more . . .

“I might complain, but I always trust you. Hence my being in this predicament in the first place. And I don’t go by that name any more.”

“Be that as it may,” she said, her eyes growing mischievous. “That horny fucker is inside you and very much kicking.”

Dyletri sputtered in outrage as Nylicia laughed delicately. She stood up, leaning down to put a translucent hand on Dyletri’s shoulder.

“Ismini is pissed at you, thanks to your constant mood swings and that disappearing act you pulled. Either way, I agree with Zen that you should spend time with her, but she’s going to be downright obstinate about that one. So, I’ll do you the favor and tell her that she should.”

“You mean you’re going to lie and tell her it’s Destiny she go on a picnic with me?” Dyletri asked, watching her.

“It’s not really a lie if it is Destiny, now is it? Goodbye, Dy. Have fun. Oh, and you’re welcome.” She waved over her shoulder and walked out of the room without looking at him.

Dyletri couldn’t fight back the amusement he felt, nor the odd hope that blossomed within him, despite Nylicia’s revelations being less than reassuring. Except the fact that Ismini was supposed to be a part of whatever war was starting.

That meant she would survive the sacrifice.

Right?

Even if it doesn’t . . .

Yeah, Dyletri understood now. He owed Ismini more than he had ever owed Dimithinia. He’d set her up to be sacrificed. He’d failed to make sure she’d had a good life until then. Regardless of how much time she had left, he would give her everything he had while he still could.

If she would let him.

It hit him that, during his long life, he’d never done something so
human.
Sure, there were gods out there that took humans as lovers and carried on relationships in the human way, but Dyletri had never spent much time with any woman, human or otherwise. He had never really sat and gotten to know a female the way one would during a regular courtship, especially a human courtship. His time with Dimithinia had always been hurried and brief.

With Ismini, everything was new—uncharted territory. He had no idea what he was doing, but he’d never been so
infatuated.

His body was obsessed with her. His mind and heart, too. Excited was too tame a word to describe what he felt at the thought of being alone with her.

However, as he walked into the bathroom to get ready, he resolved that he wouldn’t take anything from Ismini that she wasn’t willing to give. This wasn’t about him.

But she wants you, too.

The voice he’d been trying very hard to ignore made him inhale sharply. She had seemed to want him before. She’d been willing and ready. Despite how angry she was, if she wanted him once again, there would be nothing holding him—or that dark, sadistic fucker inside of him—back.

Chapter 19