“I am still a monster,” he said against my pulse.
“I do,” I lied back.
He finally turned. His eyes—one silver, one gold—held the weight of every god he’d devoured, every realm he’d unmade. But beneath that ancient hunger, something else flickered. Something that looked almost like fear.
The moment the chains fell from my wrists, I knew he was lying. When he takes -Fallen god 2- - Gabrielle Sands
Not of his enemies.
“You should hate me,” he said. Not looking at me. Looking at the altar where they’d once bound him for a thousand years.
In the silence, I remembered what the old texts said about the Fallen God’s curse. That he would destroy whatever he loved most. That his touch was ruin. That his heart beat only to break the world. “I am still a monster,” he said against my pulse
“If I take you again,” he warned, “I will not stop. I will not be gentle. I will devour every corner of your soul until nothing remains but the shape of my teeth.”
“To speak.” I stepped closer, my bare feet pressing into cold marble stained with divine blood. “And I’m telling you now—you don’t get to fall alone.”
For the first time in a thousand years, the Fallen God laughed. His eyes—one silver, one gold—held the weight of
I didn’t run.
“I took everything from you,” he reminded me. His voice scraped the air like stone on stone. “Your kingdom. Your family. Your mortal name.”
But the texts never mentioned this—the way his hand trembled when I reached for it. The way his divine fire banked low, afraid to burn me. The way he said my mortal name like it was the only prayer left in his hollow chest.
“Good,” I answered, and pulled him closer. “So am I.” Because some falls aren’t endings. They’re the first step toward something the gods never anticipated: A monster loved. And a monster who loves back.
“To scream.”