City of Blood (Godstone Saga Book 6) by Jocelynn Drake

Author:Jocelynn Drake [Drake, Jocelynn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-06-30T16:00:00+00:00

FIFTEEN

Caelan Talos

Caelan sat on a flat rock near the edge of the stream where he’d had his conversation with Zyros the night before. Eyes closed and hands resting on his knees, he tried to recall the meditation lessons he’d received from his grandfather.

Deep breath in.

Let the world fall away.

Slowly release the air between his lips.

Concentrate on the splash of the water against the rocks. The wind rustling through the leaves. His fiancé snoring not more than five feet from him.

A small grin crept across his lips and he cracked open one eyelid to peek at Drayce. He was stretched out on a sunny patch of grass, his messy blond hair glinting like a halo in the light.

Eno would be pissed to find the king’s bodyguard snoozing on the job, but Caelan thought he was adorable and certainly didn’t have the heart to disturb him. Drayce had been sleeping less since they’d entered the Ordas. They all had been, though Caelan was sure his lack of sleep was more due to his new state of being rather than a constant state of fear over being eaten by an animal.

He was happy to let Drayce doze. The buzz of energy in and around Caelan was enough to alert him to the approach of anyone or thing to their quiet patch of the world. They were currently in no danger of attack.

Letting the gentle sound of Drayce’s snoring fall to white noise in the back of his mind with the wind and the water, Caelan closed his eyes. As his mind settled, tension and worries sloughed off his shoulders and his body became lighter. He was the air.

No, he was energy. Power.

He was a crackling ball of white electricity sitting in the center of a massive web that reached out with millions of tiny fibers, connecting him with countless souls.

His heart stuttered in his chest, and it was becoming more difficult to drag air into his lungs as the vision clarified in his mind.

What was this?

In his thoughts, he reached out and lightly ran his fingers over the threads like strumming the strings of a harp. From each one rose a whispered fear, dream, wish, desire, or dread. All these people were complete strangers to him and were spread all over Thia.

Why was he connected to them like this?

What did this mean?

He suspected these threads were tied to his new godhood, but they brought him no closer to understanding himself. Why was he able to see these thoughts and emotions so clearly? Were they prayers? But that didn’t make any sense. No one other than his closest companions were even aware that he was a god. He didn’t even know what kind of god he was. Who would pray to him?

Even if they weren’t praying to him, was he supposed to do something about them? Gods and goddesses were supposed to answer the prayers of the people, not that he’d heard of that happening without horrifying repercussions. Fuck, if the people of Erya knew what he did about the gods, they’d never ask for a single thing from them.

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