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May the words of the goddess echo through the generations: To be known—deeply known—is the highest, most blessed intimacy.
Words that Danu had given her people long before her imprisonment echoed in her mind as Magnus looked at her, genuinely looked at her.
For the first time since inhabiting this mortal form, she allowed a witness to her lowly state. Here at the marble altar where generations of wolfkind had worshipped her, she could no more hide her true self from Magnus than she could wave her hand and return to her immortal form.
He knows.
Panic fluttered behind her breastbone. But there was something else there, too. Relief.
The only other person who knew what had happened to her and Seona was Duff. While she appreciated her friend, he was not the one she craved intimacy with.
Magnus knows.
The relief swelled and filled all her corners and spaces. It felt so good to be completely known.
Until her king dropped to his knees. “My Goddess,” he whispered, and he prostrated himself before her, forehead to the marble floor.
No, no, no.
This was not what she wanted. She didn’t need him awestruck. She needed him strong, so she could take shelter from this strangeness in his arms. Besides, if he worshipped her like this, Hyrk would discover her. No, this would not do.
“Get up,” she hissed. “Quickly.”
But Assaph’s voice trampled over hers. “Sire!” He dashed to Magnus’s side and fell to his knees. In his haste his head covering fell off and spun to the floor. “What have you done to him?” he snarled at her.
“Nothing!” she answered before she bent to tug on Magnus’s arm. “Please get up. Do not do this. You’ll put me in danger.”
“Don’t touch him, you vile monster!” Assaph made a grab for her hand, but Magnus caught his wrist before he could make contact.
“Do not touch her.” At last, her words seemed to have gotten through to Magnus. From his knees, he said, “She is not Hyrk.”
Hyrk? Was that why Magnus had been acting strangely? Since the meeting in his solar, he had been reserved with her. The passion she’d tasted in his kisses had bled away and left coldness in its place. Indignation puffed her up at being mistaken for that wicked bastard.
“Of course I’m not,” she said hotly. “But if you remain on your knees, he will most certainly discover me.” She spoke in a rush, needing to convince Magnus as soon as possible. It was unfortunate that Assaph was there, because her identity must remain secret. The more people who knew, the more danger she would be in. But it couldn’t be helped.
At her insistent tugging, Magnus finally came to his feet.
Assaph looked back and forth between them, waiting for an explanation. His confusion might have been comical under other circumstances.
“I am not myself,” she confessed. “Something I cannot explain has happened to me and to Seona, and it must be put right. In this mortal form, I am practically helpless. If Hyrk finds me, I’m as good as dead.”
“Where is Seona?” Magnus said.
At the same time, Assaph said, “If you’re not Hyrk, then who are you?”
“She is Danu,” Magnus said, gaze still locked on hers. Truth be told, she could not look away, either. Now that he knew who she truly was, she longed to share everything with him.
A thump dragged her attention to the floor. Assaph lay there, feet splayed and sticking out from the hem of his robe. He had fainted.
“Oh dear,” she said.
She and Magnus dove to his side.
“Assaph!” Magnus patted his cheek.
“What can I do?” she asked.
“Water. He needs water.” Magnus blinked. He turned mortified eyes to her. “My apologies, my—Goddess. I’ll fetch it.” He started to stand, but she stopped him by curling her fingers in his sleeve.
“Tell me where it is. I’ll fetch it.” She would not let him treat her like one who must be waited on hand and foot. She was a goddess, yes, but she was also a woman quite able to undertake necessary actions.
He stared a moment. As if coming to a decision, he nodded. “Assaph’s apartment is through there. You should find an ewer by his pallet.” He pointed behind him, toward a closed door. She hurried to fetch some water.
Assaph’s apartment was dim, with only a bit of gloaming light coming in through a window, but she found his pallet, and the ewer on a nearby table, easily enough. She scooped up some water with a tin cup and jogged back to the sanctuary. As Magnus took it from her, she felt herself smiling at the irony of a goddess serving in her own temple.
“My thanks,” he said. With a powerful arm, he lifted Assaph’s head and tipped a dribble of water over the priest’s lips. “Wake up, Assaph. Come on.”
Assaph’s tongue darted out to catch the drops. Behind his spectacles, he blinked awake.
“There he is,” Magnus said. “You had a bit of a shock, friend. Take a few moments to rest. Here. Drink.” He held the cup so Assaph could sip from it.
“My thanks,” the priest said. He peered from Magnus to her, and his eyes widened.
“Yes,” she said. “I am Danu.” She softened the news with a smile. “I do not understand why I’ve come to be in this mortal body, but once you are feeling quite well, I am happy to discuss my predicament with you. Perhaps you may have a way to help me.”
“Help you?” Assaph went pale.
“Yes. Help me. I am...unaccustomed to being powerless.”
“You are not powerless,” Magnus said. “You fetched water for Assaph.” His lips quirked, and she remembered being in his arms earlier. She remembered his kiss.
Her cheeks warmed. Assaph might have difficulty adjusting to her presence, but Magnus, it seemed, was able to take it in stride. “Perhaps not powerless by mortal standards,” she allowed with a quirk of her own lips. Now that they had dispelled the idiotic notion of her being Hyrk, she hoped they could return to the flirting and touching she had enjoyed so much.
Assaph cleared his throat.
Though, perhaps not this very moment. She and Magnus had been leaning toward each other across the priest, still prone on the floor. With a start, they both jumped back.
A thrill went through her at the thought of entertaining carnal thoughts in the temple, as if she were some mortal fantasizing about her would-be lover while she ought to be worshipping. She nearly chuckled, but managed to hold it back.
“Here,” Magnus said, offering the priest his hand.
Assaph clasped it and stood. Immediately, he bowed his head and began to kneel before her.
While his faith and respect touched her, she could not allow anyone to make displays of honor. Hyrk could never know how vulnerable she’d become. “No. Do not kneel.” She rushed to urge him upright.
“She does not wish for Hyrk to know where she is,” Magnus said. “We must pretend she is still Seona. Is that right, my Goddess?”
“That is correct. But do not call me Goddess. My lady will do, or—” She did not wish to be called by another’s name, but she supposed it was the safest option. “Seona.”
Assaph’s eyebrows climbed his forehead. “How is this possible? What are we to do?”
“Come.” With a hand on Assaph’s shoulder, Magnus guided the priest to a room beside his apartment. “Let us sit and discuss this where there are no windows. It would not do to be overheard or spied upon.” His sober face comforted her. In seeking a more private forum, he proved her secret was safe with him.
Assaph’s study bloomed with light as the priest lit a lamp with shaking hands. His color was returning little by little.
Magnus drew a simple wooden chair to her, and she accepted his hand as he helped her sit.
“My thanks,” she said.
He shook his head. A rueful light twinkled in his eye. “I cannot believe I thought you were Hyrk.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Neither can I.” He blanched, but she pulled his face close with a fist in his shirt. “I will think of many interesting ways for you to make it up to me.” She let her desire for him show in her gaze, in her voice.
Color kissed his cheekbones. His eyes darkened to the color of aged whiskey. “My Goddess,” he whispered, completely ignoring her earlier directive. But she forgave him in light of the reverence shining from his face. She craved his reverence, but not here in the temple. In his bed he could worship her all he wanted. And she would worship him with every ounce of her being.
Magnus grazed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. Carnal promise laced the caress, and she blessed the stars he was not so awestruck that he could not see her for the woman she was. She resolved to hold him to his promise. Straightening away from her, he moved a second chair into the space directly beside hers. He sat and commanded Assaph to do so as well.
Still wide-eyed, Assaph took the seat behind his slanted table. Tomes of all shapes and sizes made stacks on shelves all around the small room. Sheets of parchment covered the sloping surface of his desk, and inkwells in various states of fullness lined the top, each in a carved slot designed for the purpose. She imagined priests studying her words in this room for centuries and let her appreciation for each and every one of them wash over her. Her people had created a grand temple for her, and even though she had not been able to hear their prayers, they still worshipped her, still studied her ways.
In the sanctuary, she had run her fingers over the worn arms of wooden benches. Generations of wolfkind had come to this very place to be near her. She mourned for every prayer that had gone unanswered, for every priest who had devoted their life to an absentee goddess, for every woman who had knelt at the altar and prayed for a child to grow in her womb only to be disappointed season after season, for every man who had no mate to complete him.
She became aware of a warm presence at her side. Magnus.
For some reason, her sorrow lifted. She still ached with sadness all the way to her bones, but the ache no longer threatened to crush her, body, mind, and soul. With Magnus beside her, she could bear her regret.
His presence allowed her to mourn all that had been lost. All the years. All the people. And to look past the mourning to what could be—what would be once they set everything right.
“I suppose I should start when it all went wrong,” she said.
Both men leaned forward.
In her mind, she went back in time. Way back.
* * * *
Now that Magnus understood who dwelled in Seona’s body, his new attraction to her made sense. It was not Seona who inspired his affection. It was the goddess he had worshipped since his earliest days. Perhaps it was wrong to feel this way for the mother of their race, but he could not deny those feelings. And she did not dismiss them. Quite the opposite. She welcomed them.
But he could not dwell on his desire. Instead, he must find a way to help her return to her heavenly form, where she belonged and where she could bless them. Not to mention, they still had Hyrk to deal with, and no idea where he was or what he planned.
Magnus angled his chair so he could see Danu fully. She sat primly, with her hands clasped in her lap. Wearing Seona’s form, she was more beautiful than any other woman he had ever seen, including Seona. Eyes like tawny beads reflected the light of Assaph’s lamp with honest vulnerability where before this miraculous trading of places, Seona’s eyes had always been hard and guarded. Now her cheeks glowed with rosy life, where before, bitterness had made them sunken and gray. Even the paw-print brand on her cheek held a new sort of beauty. It had been meant as a mark of a wicked man’s ownership, but to Magnus, it reminded him that this precious being belonged to all of them. She belonged to wolfkind.
He watched in fascination as her gaze turned inward.
“Long ago, in the realm of immortals,” she began, “a selfish demigod pursued a goddess whose power and position he coveted. He aimed to bind her to him by Sacred Tradition, thus sharing in her power.”
Her lip curled, and even that expression of disgust held beauty. “Knowing his nature, she rejected him swiftly and decisively. He retaliated by infiltrating her creation and tempting some of her followers away from her laws and worship.”
She looked from one to the other of them. Magnus nodded his understanding and encouragement, and Danu accepted it with a brief, sad smile.
“In those days, a good and worthy emperor ruled the goddess’s creation. He honored her and loved her, and his people followed his example. But his brother listened to the whisperings of the rejected demigod. For years, the brothers feuded over which deity their people should worship, until one day, their enmity came to a head.”
Some of what she said was familiar to Magnus. She spoke of Lachlan and Jilken. The ancient story told of Jilken’s attempts to dethrone Lachlan, a long-ago echo of what Ari had attempted.
“Without the mortals realizing,” Danu said, “the demigod suggested a wager. He vowed upon his relic of power to leave the goddess’s creation in peace if her mortal slew his in the inevitable forthcoming battle. But if his emerged the victor and became ruler, she would become the demigod’s bride.
“Sure of herself and of her faithful mortal, she agreed, laughing all the while at the demigod’s stupidity. Her mortal, the elder brother, was taller, stronger, wiser, and even more handsome than his brother. He would never lose a battle between them. To her, it seemed an easy way to purge her creation of the demigod once and for all.”
Danu sighed, and the sound was one of regret. “What she did not count on was the mercy of the elder brother nor the treachery of the younger. The two battled, but not to the death, as she’d assumed. The elder brother emerged the victor, but rather than take the life of his brother, he banished him and his followers and allowed them to become their own kingdom.
“The battle had ended in a virtual draw. The outcome did nothing to resolve the wager. The demigod continued to meddle in the goddess’s realm, and the goddess refused to submit to his demands.
“Determined to have the goddess as his bride, the demigod tired of this non-resolution. After years of peace, he convinced his champion to invite his brother and his court to a feast on the pretense of celebrating their thriving kingdoms. But the feast was a trap. At the demigod’s urging, the younger brother poisoned the elder and attempted to take the throne as emperor of all.
“The elder brother’s followers were strong. They fought their way free of the younger brother’s army, and their fallen king’s firstborn son took the throne. The kingdoms were once again at odds.”
Magnus remembered studying that war. Jilken had managed to escape the wrath of Marann’s army and remained king of Larna for another fifty years.
Danu went on. “Though a tenuous peace eventually returned in the mortal realm, in the immortal realm, the damage had been done.” She stared at her hands, which twisted in her lap. “The demigod gloated at the murder of the goddess’s champion. He attempted to force her into becoming his bride, claiming his mortal had taken the life of hers, and was therefore the ultimate victor.
“She refused him, but the Way of All Things chose to subject her to the demigod. She had bargained with him, and she must submit to the agreed-upon terms.” Her hands began trembling.
Magnus swept them up in his.
Danu met his eyes.
He struggled to make sense of how she could be the goddess who created them and yet appear so vulnerable. His heart ached at the thought of her being forced to submit to her enemy.
“What happened?” he asked gently.
She took a steadying breath. “Because the demigod had used trickery to win the bargain, the goddess was given a choice. She could honor her word and become the demigod’s bride or she could go to his dungeon, where he could not harm her physically but would be her keeper for all time. She chose her enemy’s dungeon over his bed.”
Dread dug a burrow in his chest. “You speak of Lachlan and Jilken. The battle, when Lachlan was killed, occurred two thousand years ago.”
“Yes.” Eyes downcast, Danu confirmed his suspicion.
“You’ve been locked away by your enemy for two thousand years,” he said.
Her silence was answer enough.
The human women rescued from Larna had been in Bantus’s dungeon for months, some of them, like Seona, a full year. But this woman had been imprisoned for centuries upon centuries. Magnus could not fathom that kind of time.
“By the moon,” Assaph whispered.
Magnus met the priest’s eyes. All along, Assaph’s theory that Danu’s blessing had been forcibly taken from them had been correct. To think, the immortal goddess had been rendered powerless. He could hardly conceive of it.
He turned to Danu and dragged her into his arms. He could not help himself. This precious being deserved comfort after what she’d endured. “Never again,” he said. “Never again will you be subject to that wicked thing. I vow it.”
She sniffed, and he realized she wept into his shirt. When she pulled away, he did not want to let her go, but he forced himself to. He would never trap her someplace she did not want to be. She would never regret confiding in him.
Danu sat up tall, eyes swollen but otherwise composed. “I am free at last, but Seona is not. She is in my place. I have heard it confirmed by a friend who is able to steal into Hyrk’s dungeon. Something must be done to help her.”
Magnus frowned. She had not been in contact with anyone but him. He had hardly left her side. “When did you see this friend? Who is he?” Was that jealousy ripping through him?
She smiled and laid a lily-cool hand along his beard. “Calm yourself. His name is Duff, and he is of the Fae. He is a friend and an ally. Even now, he abides with Seona, comforting her. He came to me in a dream while I rested today. Without him, I would not know what had happened to her. He is the one who told me about the blond-haired boy.”
The nap she had taken under the watch of six guards. She had spoken to one of the Fae while she’d been sleeping. That was how she’d known about Alexander. Her information had helped Magnus learn how Bilkes had escaped. Perhaps there was more where that had come from. “I wish to meet this ‘friend and ally.’”
“I have no way of summoning him,” Danu said. “But if I see him again, I will tell him of your request.”
“Extraordinary,” Assaph said. “A faerie in our midst.” His brows drew together. “You said he comforts Seona? How does she fare?”
Magnus was angry with himself that he had not thought to ask.
“She is afraid,” Danu said. “Hyrk’s dungeon is not a nice place. But the bars that confine her also protect her from Hyrk’s power. He cannot harm her beyond taunting her; that is, if he returns there. Duff has not seen him since our swapping places.”
“We must discover Hyrk’s whereabouts,” Magnus said. “He desires my downfall and the destruction of Marann.” He pounded his fist on the arm of the chair. “I will not allow it.”
“But how can we find him?” Assaph said. “And when we find him, how will we fight him?”
Danu said, “As a demigod, Hyrk is not innately powerful, as is a full deity. But he can gain power by stealing worship from other gods or goddesses. He will seek followers, like this prisoner who escaped. Ask yourself which of your people have a mindset like the prisoner, and you will know where to begin looking. As for fighting him—” She gripped the arms of her chair. “There are only two ways to destroy a demigod. Take away every last one of his followers or destroy his relic of power. Hyrk’s relic is a red gemstone. Destroy it utterly, and he will be rendered powerless. But a relic is not an easy thing to destroy. It is said no mortal weapon can harm one.”
Magnus stood and began pacing. At this very moment, Riggs was searching for the red gemstone. Perhaps he had found it by now and was returning to Glendall. “Then how do we destroy it?”
“Only an act of pure faith can destroy a relic,” she said.
“What does that mean?” Assaph asked. “Could it be a song of worship? A sacrifice made?”
Her eyebrows slanted. “I’m afraid I do not know. I have never heard of a relic actually being destroyed.”
Assaph rose from his desk. “I will begin researching immediately. Unless you require me, Sire.”
“Go,” Magnus said. “We need all the information we can gather.” He intended to scour the shelves of Glendall’s library. Perhaps he would begin with Tanisten’s poetry.
Assaph shuffled from the study, bidding them goodnight.
“We will find a way,” Magnus promised Danu. “And once Hyrk is destroyed, we will return you to where you belong. I will not rest until it is done.”
Danu’s eyes dimmed. Perhaps she doubted him. He was only mortal, after all. But he was also a king, and he had an army at his command.
“Do not fret, my lady.” He tugged her to her feet. “I will set everything right. You will sit your heavenly throne again and have the worship you deserve.”
A shuddering breath parted her lips. “If I am to have only a little while in this mortal body, then I would like to be worshipped somewhere other than this temple.” The darkening of her gaze as she licked her lips was unmistakable.
“As you desire.” He would sooner die than disappoint his goddess.
