Page 73 of Revels on an Angel’s Grave

“Dryvius,” Roremar growled, daring the Fate to appear, to actually fucking answer him.

There was nothing but eerie silence.

“Dryvius!” Roremar shouted, the name bouncing off the stone and into the sky above.

He stalked to the head of the room where a massive seat was overturned, tentatively testing the bounds of his placement on this realm. Pools of liquid splashed with his steps, but there was no one else here.

He was entirely alone.

There were twelve chairs. Maybe this was some Fately event—a revel gone wrong. Maybe it was Dryvius’s reunion in the Fate Realm with his fellow celestial beings after it was revealed he wasn’t dead.

Roremar blinked, and he could almost see it. Eleven faceless Fates at this table. Dryvius striding through the door with a careless air.

The shock.

A fight broke out.

Crouching, Roremar picked up one of the flowers, pink petals falling from the stem in his hand.

As they floated to the puddles, a feminine voice pierced his mind, mad and giggling: He comes for me. And madness descends.

Pain sliced through his skull at the unnatural voice. “Who the fuck was that?”

No one answered, but a chill worked down his spine. Roremar’s gaze tipped toward the inky red sky.

He’d never heard from a Fate other than Dryvius. The fact that he had now solidified his theory about where this reading had taken him. This wasn’t the plane between realms where readings were passed.

This was the Fate Realm itself.

And he was being shown this scene because he needed to know what happened.

Something wet slid down Roremar’s cheek, and he flinched. He swiped away the thin, fruity liquid with his thumb, bringing it to his lips.

Red fucking wine.

The symbol and taunt had anger pounding in his chest.

Roremar bellowed, “What do you want?”

His words echoed back at him, heart pounding as he spun around. Whether it was the stars above or the Fate himself, Roremar felt watched.

“You fucking coward!” he roared. “Dryvius! Why are you doing this?”

A low, familiar chuckle rippled over the air.

Roremar blinked, searching, but instead of the Fates, a familiar face formed out of the stars.

Nico.

Roremar blinked again, and his brother vanished, replaced by all the women he’d killed, cracks spreading out from them until the sky looked like it would shatter.

“What do you want with me?” Roremar panted.

His chest tightened, panic digging its claws in.

Making it hard to breathe.

Stars flashed, and his head spun. Until the connection with the Fate snapped.