High in the settlement's watchtower, Dren stood just beyond the reach of torchlight, the shadows clinging to his figure like a second skin. Through the narrow wooden slats, he had an unbroken view of the riverside where two figures lay side by side beneath the open sky.
His jaw tightened until the muscles in his face ached. The wood beneath his hands creaked as his grip dug into it, sharp pain biting into his palms, yet he didn't release.
The sight of them together.
That should be me.
Golden strands of hair fell across his eyes, hiding the twitch of fury running through them. Everything he has should be mine.
The thought burned hotter the longer he watched, until his breath came rough and uneven, each inhale dragging against his chest. Her choosing Jace—of all people—wasn't just rejection. It was humiliation. A reminder that she'd given what Dren believed was rightfully his to a man beneath him.
Ideas began to coil and snap in his mind, dangerous and restless. How easy it would be to make this mistake of hers vanish. Permanently.
******
Mist pressed around Jace like a living thing, cool and heavy against his skin. The ground beneath his feet didn't feel like earth, only shifting haze. Above, faint stars pricked a sky that stretched out without end.
"Well, well."
The voice behind him sent a current down his spine—rich, amused, threaded with something that tugged at the air.
Jace turned, and saw a familiar figure.
Lyss.
The Goddess of Desire glided through the mist with the kind of grace that made everything else seem clumsy. She was exactly as impossible as he remembered—lips curved, eyes lit like twin embers, beauty sharpened to a weapon.
"Your leveling has been slow," she said, her smile carrying both mockery and warmth. "Trouble finding… willing hearts? Not that I'm surprised. You're still wearing this body."
The words slid under his skin, stinging more because they were true. He forced himself to meet her eyes. "Would you be attracted to me?"
The question came out sharper than he meant, but he didn't regret it.
For the briefest moment, her composure cracked. Lyss gave a startled laugh, the kind that sounded too human for a goddess—light, almost shy. The sound unsettled him more than her beauty.
But the softness vanished as quickly as it came. Her expression hardened with the weight of something divine.
"You're far from ready to face Zorak," she said, stepping closer. "If you confronted him now, you'd be swallowed whole."
Jace barked a dry laugh. "With this face you left me? Not surprising."
Her eyes glinted, unbothered. "You haven't done enough, and that's on you. Appearance is a tool, not a prison. Desire is bigger than surface attraction. You of all people should know that."
Each step she took sent a ripple through the realm, the mist bending around her presence.
"I'll unlock a new skill for you," Lyss said. "And a temporary boost. But how long it lasts depends on how you use it."
Jace's throat tightened. "How long are we talking about?" Jace asked, suddenly wary of accepting gifts from goddesses without understanding the terms.
Her smile turned secretive, maddening. "That's for me to decide."
Before he could ask what she meant by that, Lyss closed the final distance between them. Her hand rose to cup his cheek. Her touch was impossibly soft, yet it burned through him as if she'd pressed fire to skin.
"Desire isn't just about drawing eyes," she whispered. "It's about knowing what someone aches for, what they'll barter away their soul to have. If you can see that, you can claim anything."
Then she kissed him.
It was lightning, heat, and weight all at once, leaving his heart stumbling in his chest. When she finally pulled back, her lips curved in a smirk.
"You still reek of Nia," she teased, her nose wrinkling playfully.
And then she was gone, dissolving into mist that thinned to nothing. The realm collapsed.
Jace's eyes snapped open.
The dawn sky stretched pale and soft above him, streaked pink and gold. The river gurgled over stones, unbothered by whatever had just torn through his sleep.
He shifted and reached instinctively to his side. Empty.
Nia was gone, only the faint curve pressed into the pebbles and the lingering trace of her scent telling him she'd been there at all.
A hollow tug pulled at his chest as he sat up, fingers brushing grit from his skin. He dragged on his discarded shirt, the fabric rough against his arms, and stood.
The world looked the same—the river, the settlement roofs catching light in the distance—but it didn't feel the same. Lyss's words still pressed in his ears, her touch still burning his cheek.
Power. A new skill. A goddess's kiss.
But none of it came with certainty.
He walked back toward the settlement, boots crunching on loose stone, the weight of the morning heavy in his chest. Something was shifting. He could feel it.
Whether he was ready or not didn't matter anymore.