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“No, you’re a special case, as far as I know.” He reached up and tucked an errant curl back into the rest of the riotous mass. “When gods have a child, they’re either empowered by the mother, the father, or something else entirely. So if a god of the sun and a goddess of the moon were to have a child, it would hold sway over the sun or the moon, not both. Or possibly over something completely unrelated. It really depends on the needs of the universe at the moment of conception, according to what they’ll teach you in your last year.”
“Do they ever tell us who our parents are?” My throat was so tight it was hard to get the question out, but I fought through it. I hadn’t wanted to know when Brodgan first broached the topic with me, but the more I considered it, the more I knew in my gut that having the truth of where I’d come from would make it easier to understand myself and what I was capable of.
“I believe you can ask, and if they know, they will tell you. I never had to, I lived with my father until I came here.”
“Hang on, you grew up with your father, the death god? Not human parents like the rest of us?” I thought we all went to humans as infants, but maybe the fact that Remy’s mother had abandoned him with his father changed things somehow?
“I did. It wasn’t all you’re thinking it was. He forbade me to use my ability, which I suppose makes sense in hindsight. A teenager with the ability to murder their bully without lifting a finger is never a good idea. He was rarely around, so I was mostly raised by our mortal housekeeper.”
Oh, we’d be talking about that later, but I needed to get back on track. “Why don’t they automatically tell us if they know?”
“As you can imagine, there’s a lot of resentment among the young gods toward the immortal parents who abandoned them to be raised among humans, often with no idea who or what they truly are.”
I felt a leaden ball of resentment of my own and knew he was right. I heaved out a sigh. I needed to know who my birth parents were, but I’d have to find another way. No way in hell was I asking Day or Brodgan for a damn thing. I didn’t trust either of them as far as I could throw all my guys. Since I couldn’t lift a single one of them–much less hurl them across any great distance–that was saying something.
I should probably start working out more. Just in case one of them got too crazy, and I had to pick ‘em up and chuck ‘em.
I grinned at the mental image, and Remy examined me with a raised brow. “Don’t worry about it. Just know you should bulk up if you want to stay safe.”
“Wh—what?”
I laughed at the absolute confusion on his handsome face. It lifted some of the heaviness and gloom that had come over me during our conversation. That glowing orb inside of me had gone dormant, and I was relieved to feel myself once again.
“Thanks for your help, Remy. I should go—”
“No.”
I frowned at that. “Um, what do you mean, ‘no?’”
“No, you shouldn’t go. We still need to talk.”
“We did talk.”
“Yes, we did, about what you wanted to talk about. However, there are things—or at least one thing in particular—I want to talk about.”
“Okay, like what?” As if I didn’t know. But if I didn’t say it, then I had plausible deniability.
“Playing dumb, are we?”
He clearly had no idea how this worked. We were both supposed to beat around the bush for a while, then eventually he would give up and realize I wasn’t going to say what he wanted me to, and he’d call me mysterious and we’d leave it at that.
Calling me on my bullshit was really just in poor taste.
“Fine. Still mad.”
“That’s it?”
“…and thank you for helping.” That’s as good as he was going to get.
“I don’t know how many other ways you want me to beg for your forgiveness, or how much more space you want. I’ve given what I can, and there won’t be any more.”
“What does that mean?” His tone irked the hell out of me. I was going to get exactly as much space as I needed, and he’d be forgiven when I was good and damn ready to forgive him. I wasn’t good ready yet, and nowhere near damn ready.
The dangerous glint in those golden eyes had me fighting back the instinct to step away to a safe distance, wary of the predator in front of me.
Lesson learned: first thought = best thought.
“It means this.” Remy yanked me close and his lips crashed down with bruising intensity. The gasp that ripped out of my throat never made it into the air as he drank it down while he devoured my mouth.
