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Footsteps sounded on stairs of stone as Danu’s jailor descended to her.
Within her cell, she drew herself to her full height. All she had left was her pride. It was the one thing Hyrk could never take from her.
“Good morning, my fair goddess.” His voice slithered through the silence. The torches in the walls, ever glowing with crimson light, caused slashes of shadow where rocks jutted from the dungeon floor. Hyrk sailed gracefully around the obstacles, so familiar with the path, he could no doubt walk it blindfolded. Clothed in his usual finery and smelling of lavender baths, he reminded her of the luxuries she’d once taken for granted.
Hatred pulsed in her chest. If she weren’t surrounded by bars of cold-iron, she would use that hatred to sear him where he stood. The immortal demigod wouldn’t die from it, sadly, but it would take him time to heal, time during which she would not have to suffer his presence.
“I have the most wonderful news, my dear.” Framed by hair the color of fresh blood, his pale face beamed.
What would he crow about this time? Had he acquired a new follower? Had the population of her precious wolfkind dropped more quickly than usual? In the absence of her blessing, her people had steadily declined in number, especially the women. Each death added thickness to the bars of her cell. Soon, wolfkind would be extinct, and she would be worse than dead, forever sealed inside a box made from her failure as a goddess. Lest she forget her inevitable fate, Hyrk reminded her daily.
Whatever his news, she did not encourage him to deliver it. Anything Hyrk considered good was sure to displease her.
“A battle is afoot!” he said, clapping with glee. “My King Bantus and his traitorous, little helper are about to usurp the throne of Marann. What’s left of your wolfkind will soon be under my complete control! No more will your pesky followers stand in my way. At last, I’ll have free rein to shape them into the bloodthirsty race they should have been from the beginning. Isn’t it fantastic?”
Her fists clenched at her sides with the effort to remain quiet. Over the past two thousand years, she had learned that her rage only fueled her enemy’s excitement.
“Of course, it doesn’t have to be this way.” his tone sank to slimy depths. “You have the power to free yourself. To save them. We will rule them together. As one flesh, joined by Sacred Tradition. What say you? Is this the day you hold to your word and become my wife?” The question was the same every morning.
As was her answer. “No.”
