Chapter 55: Chapter 55: BECOME A GOD

VALORIA WILDEROSE

Again, acting so daringly next to him. I couldn’t do this with Alice or my sisters or father, but somehow my voice comes out unshaken next to him.

I know it’s a sensitive topic—one he might not bother to answer. I don’t ask expecting an answer because I doubt he’ll give one, but it’s a thought I’ve been having.

A subtle feeling that there’s more to why she wants him killed—that something hasn’t been revealed yet. A useless thought, maybe.

Blue, tired eyes look at me—unbothered. Unfazed…

“Because I’m a threat to her,” he answers, as though it’s the most obvious and natural thing to say, without any hesitation.

“Y-Yes… I kn-know that,” I reply, testing the waters.

I’m intrigued that he bothered answering at all—and encouraged to probe.

“I kn-know you’re a threat to everything she holds dear. I just t-think that at some point she can just get involved herself. Gods can’t interfere, but there has to be a rule where they can if a psychopath wants to destroy everything.”

I freeze up again, realizing I’ve spoken too much. This time, I may have gone too far.

The last time we had a conversation similar to this, he was threatening to rip me apart seconds before I ran away to save my life. This time there’s no exit.

I’m trapped with him in a speeding car, and jumping out would cause more harm than good.

“Well, I’m an exception,” he continues coolly, contrary to what I was expecting.

For some reason, Azrael is answering my questions without rage or irritation.

It’s strange. Unsettling, even. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop—for his eyes to flash red and his hand to close around my throat.

But it doesn’t come.

“How?” I lean closer, into the wall of space I myself had built to keep him away.

“Maybe it’s the nature of my mission that makes me a big enough case that forces her to rely on petty means.”

“What mission?”

My curiosity climbs to an impossible level.

He looks at me—deadpanning with a direct, blank gaze, telling me to listen because he won’t repeat himself again.

“To become a god.”

“What?”

I freeze into a block of ice, watching him. My eyes widen, threatening to pop out of their sockets, but I’m too shocked to be bothered.

The words don’t make sense. They can’t. No mortal—no creature—can ascend to godhood. It’s the one rule that has never been broken.

And yet he says it like he’s commenting on the weather.

“What does that—”

He stops me before I can ask another, with a finger pressed to my lips; a mischievous smile playing on his own lips as well.

There’s no way I heard him right… no fucking way he said and meant those words.

My eyes search for a lie, as if I can spot one—but my gut tells me it’s no joke. He means it. Truly.

Becoming a god.

A shiver runs down my spine—painfully cold, terrifyingly cold—from my discovery, while wicked eyes watch with delight.

He’s enjoying this. Enjoying my shock, my fear, my complete and utter disbelief.

Of course he is. He always does.

“Did you notice, Valoria?” he speaks now that I can’t. “At some point in our conversation, you stopped stuttering.”

He chuckles with what seems like delight—though somewhat twisted. Almost pleased.

Why would he be?

I don’t believe I ever stopped stuttering. Even if I did, by some miracle, I can’t focus on that at all.

Rather, my mind remains on his reveal—replaying the words in my mind over and over again.

To become a god.

To become a god.

To become a god.

I don’t need to ask or be told what it would mean if he succeeds—if he becomes a god.

It’s impossible, but he doesn’t seem like the kind of crazy to do something that he knows is impossible.

Which means…

Which means he has a plan. A real, tangible plan to achieve the unachievable.

And suddenly, the goddess’s desperation makes sense. Her willingness to send countless women to their deaths. Her choice to use me—weak, broken, useless me—as her instrument.

She’s not just trying to stop a threat.

She’s trying to prevent an apocalypse.

“Ah… looks like we’re finally here.” His beautiful gaze flickers to the windows, looking up around us as we finally pull up to the large gates.

They pull aside, letting us into the wide estate that we slowly drive into.

After hours, we’ve finally arrived.

Home sweet home, I think to myself, too stunned to speak still.

His fingers finally pull away from my lips, leaving a bit of warmth burnt into them that slowly fades away.

I finally force my way out of my haze, trying not to think about it—rather, on the current situation facing us again.

My anxiety peaks once more.

The familiar grounds of the Wilderose estate stretch out before us—manicured gardens, towering oak trees, the grand manor house looming in the distance.

It looks the same as it always has. Beautiful on the outside. Rotten on the inside.

I brace myself, shifting to the door to step out—knowing nothing good waits for me on the other end.

“Wait.” He stops me before I can pull my door open, grabbing me by the wrist and pulling me closer to him again.

“One more thing,” he confesses.

In a swift motion, while holding my eyes, he takes his thumb to his lips, muttering words that faintly sound like gibberish before sinking his teeth into his flesh.

Thick, crimson blood oozes from the cut made by his fangs, and with his bloodied thumb, he draws something on my forehead.

More foreign, gibberish words leave his lips.

A cold feeling spreads through my body from that point, sinking into my bones with a static current before it settles just as fast.

It takes only a second before he lets go, and I move to wipe the blood off—but it’s gone, almost like it was never there.

“What was that?”

“Just a little something to make sure you don’t try to run away from me while we’re here, and so I have an idea of where you are,” he answers without telling me directly. “Now, if you need me at any point, you need only think of me.”

But I’m no fool.

I don’t need to be told to know that it’s magic.

Black magic.

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