Chapter 72: The Art of Thighs and Emotional Destruction (His POV)
Three weeks after my birthday, the Realm was still bleeding glitter. I'd found it in my boots. My pockets. In places glitter should never survive. Arbor still sneezed sparkles every time I opened a damn window. And yet, Asha had recovered. She walked like a woman unbothered, while I was still vacuuming cosmic herpes out of my hair.
Then November arrived. Which meant Maximus. God of Excess. Patron saint of hangovers. A god who made me look restrained. His birthday wasn't a party. It was a month-long bacchanal with mandatory worship, the kind that left kingdoms bankrupt in wine budgets. I'd been here for… two days? Four? Time was a drunk in Maximus's realm. I'd already seen a minotaur pole-dance, a fae queen start an orgy over tequila, and Maximus himself strip-duel Tairochi and lose. Twice. And Tairochi didn't even take his clothes off! I was bored. Which was dangerous. I was this close to summoning chaos just to see who survived.
Then she walked in, and my brain stopped. Time didn't stop. It bent. Like reality folded at the knees and whispered: Yes, my Lord, here's the main event.
Asha.
Her skin was painted in molten fire, swirls of gold, red, and orange like living flame. And her outfit? White. A single strap crossing her breasts like an offering, a tight skirt that was technically fabric but mostly blasphemy. Boots up to her thighs, six-inch heels that could murder me and I'd write her thank-you poetry about it. Please step on me. She didn't shimmer. She blazed. I, God of Chaos, Devourer of Illusions, Professional Smirk Enthusiast, forgot how to breathe.
Someone behind me choked on their wine. Someone else whispered, "Is that a goddess of war or seduction?" My jaw dropped like a caveman seeing fire for the first time. She felt me staring. I knew she did. The bond made sure of that. Still, she didn't look at me. Not once. She was doing this on purpose. Wicked woman. I fucking loved her.
She kissed Tairochi's cheek, and he smiled. An actual, full smile. That bastard never smiles. Maximus raised his goblet mid-flirt and looked like someone had just handed him his own reflection. Still, she didn't look at me.
She laughed, touched arms, brushed shoulders, leaned in close to Luxor, Luxor, of all gilded mannequins, and my hands curled so tight around my glass it cracked. Her mouth twitched. Oh, she heard that. Wicked. Woman.
Maximus stood, booming, stroking his own thigh while announcing, "TO ME!" like anyone had forgotten who we were here for. He was waxing about glory, thighs, passion, whatever. Background noise.
Because Asha tilted her head when she laughed. Pressed two fingers to her lips before smiling. Played with her hair. Every flicker of movement pulled me apart like string unraveling. My heart did a pathetic little skip. A skip. I was a god, and I had the cardiovascular control of a teenager seeing his crush at the high school prom.
Then came the children. Gods, the children. Maximus's spawn paraded out like wine-stained heirs to nothing, one after another. Cassius, Lucia, did he breed armies in his spare time? I lost count after ten. I was pretty sure I slept with a few of them. Asha clapped for them. Clapped. I nearly flipped the table. When she shifted her hip, her tiny little skirt pushed up, just enough to flash the painted curve of thigh. Deliberate. Absolutely bloody deliberate. I nearly combusted.
Luxor stood to toast. Golden boy. Bronze skin, perfect voice, gleaming smile. He toasted her. She smiled back. Dimples. Dimples. I didn't even know she had dimples. I wanted to set the Realm on fire. Fill those dimples with my tongue. Feel? No. Fill... mmm. She touched his arm. Laughed. Raised her glass. I stopped breathing for three seconds.
Leyla stood, the goddess of shadows, elegance incarnate. Even Maximus blinked like she leaves her cave? She whispered about mystery and surrender. Asha… smiled at her. Gave her that respectful, glowing smile. I swear I saw Leyla twitch. Twitch. A reaction from Leyla. I considered self-combustion.
Ahyona stood tall in her adolescent form, wild and radiant. She raised a carved gourd cup high, the surface etched with tiny moons and weeping willows. "To emotional indulgence." She grinned, tilted it, letting a single tear fall, It fizzed. Glowed faintly. She sipped it like it was the most sacred thing in the world.
Asha clapped. That was it. My soul packed its bags. Filed for divine relocation. Because three weeks after my birthday, after every wild thing I'd seen, after centuries of indulgence and adoration, it wasn't Maximus's excess that ruined me. It was her.
Then Vitaria rose beside Maximus, smoothing her gown, and the room shifted. She turned, and the curve of her stomach was unmistakable. Pregnant. Again. Maximus puffed up instantly, throwing an arm around her like he'd personally invented fertility. "Three in five years!" he roared, grin splitting wide. "Even Excess knows no greater joy!"
The hall erupted in cheers, goblets lifted, laughter spilling bright as wine. And Asha… she smiled, too polite. But I felt the bond tug, just enough. Just enough to remind me that this was the one thing she wanted and had been denied. Her fingers brushed the stem of her glass, her fire-dappled skin flickering for the briefest breath before steadying again. She clapped, even laughed at Maximus's bragging.
I ground my teeth, annoyed at Maximus for bellowing his joy. I didn't care what laws of gods or nature I had to break. One day, she'd have more than polite applause. She'd have joy that was hers. I stood ready to walk to my Temple to worship her, to show her what she meant to me, when Ravina stood. A toast. I barely noticed her rise.
My eyes were still fixed on Asha. The way her painted fingers curled delicately around the stem of her glass, the way she laughed, bright, flirty, meaningless, at something one of Maximus's spawn said. The sound filled me like honey poured straight into my ribcage. She glowed. My flame. My fire. My everything. Stalking closer to her.
"To the gods who still have their children… to those who lost them… and to those who will never have any at all." The words came slow. Poison sharpened into a blade. "May our mistakes not end in murder next time."
The room went still. Even the music seemed to skip. My heart dropped. Asha turned. Her fire-painted skin caught the light. Her eyes narrowed, soft with confusion. "…What did you say?"
The traitorous bitch, Ravina, delivered the final blow. "Oh, you didn't know? I figured he told you everything. How he destroyed Aerion's realm. Especially the part where he killed Korban."
Glass shattered somewhere in the crowd. Maximus let out an uneasy laugh, but no one joined him. The words killed Korban hung in the air like blood in water. Finally, Asha looked at me. Her joy, my favorite thing about her, disappeared. Her mouth parted, but nothing came out. Her eyes searched my face like she was trying to make sense of what she saw. She wasn't angry. No. It was worse. She was hurt.
It didn't matter why I'd done it. Not yet. What mattered was that I hadn't told her. Her eyes said it all.
Ravina sat down, lifted her wine, and looked me dead in the eye. Then she winked.
I moved. Didn't think. Just went. Through stunned gods and drunken voyeurs. Through silence sharp enough to cut me. Asha had stepped away from the crowd. She wasn't running. She wasn't even looking at me. She just stood there.
"Asha-" my voice broke on her name. "I, I can explain. It's not what... you don't understand... he wasn't..."
She turned to me. It hurt. Gods, it hurt. Because she wasn't cold. She was calm. Gentle. Kind. She drew in a soft breath and almost smiled. It wasn't forgiveness. Just grace.
"I just need time to process that information, Malvor." That was all she said. She didn't accuse me of anything. She only asked for time. She turned. Walked away. Leaving me in the wreckage of a party that suddenly tasted like ash. I didn't follow. Couldn't. Because what would I even say? She didn't owe me forgiveness. She didn't owe me anything. And still, she gave me grace enough to drown me.
The party stumbled back to life behind me. Maximus said something too loudly. Someone laughed. Glasses started clinking again, as though nothing had happened. I just need time.
I'd fought monsters. Defied gods. Built empires out of illusion because being wanted had once felt safer than being known. Now she knew. I turned away.
A piece of glitter drifted from the ceiling and landed against my sleeve. A tiny gold star. Three weeks later, and the damn things were still everywhere. I brushed it off. It caught the light all the way down.