Chapter One
Year 329 PD (Post Demon Occupation)
Demon Territory
“Don’t do this,” Desire said. “You’re an immortal goddess, not prey.”
The vast desert night shimmered with life, both on the land and in its endless black and sparkling sky. Allia shivered in her thin robe, although not entirely from the cold. Demons were hunters, and these were the Demon Lord’s private hunting grounds she had invaded.
“Tonight, I am both. The world has had over three hundred years to recover from the devastation the immortals brought to it,” Allia said. “If we don’t act now, demons will destroy it again.”
She was to tempt the Demon Lord. Make him love her. Her sisters believed she could then enslave him, and through him, they’d be able to control the rest of his kind.
But this was no ordinary demon. She should expect no typical response.
Her handmaid scrubbed a hand over her shaved head, a telling gesture whenever she disagreed with some decision the goddesses made or an action they took. Her worried frown puckered the corners of the long scars marring her cheeks.
Flaws in mortal appearance, the women in particular, fascinated Allia. Goddesses were almost uniform in their beauty. To them, it was nothing remarkable. No imperfections set them apart. These women who served them, however, no matter how plain their exteriors, possessed an inner quality—a vitality of life—that transcended the shallow prettiness of goddess faces.
Allia had never asked Desire how she came by those facial scars. If the priestess wanted her to know, she would tell her. But to Allia, Desire was one of the most beautiful women she had ever met. When the mortal woman first entered into service to the goddesses, Allia had chosen her immediately. The scars on her face served as a contrast with what was inside her, and rather than detract from it, made her beauty shine brighter than the sun.
Allia loved her.
“Your sisters are like children.” Desire’s tone was heavy with disapproval. She drew her cloak more tightly around her shoulders against the bite of the night. “This plan of theirs is foolish and puts you at risk, not them. Nala took advice from Mamna, an even more foolish move if you ask me. Mamna delights in encouraging her into acts of stupidity. I don’t like this.”
Desire thought Nala was too impetuous. She didn’t trust Nala’s priestess either, a point on which Allia was inclined to agree. There was something…not right about Mamna. She had an ugliness inside her that Nala chose not to see. Perhaps it was because Mamna’s twisted and misshapen exterior blinded her goddess to other, far greater, flaws.
Allia dug her bare toes into sand still warm from the heat of the spent day. “Demons are hunters. Goddesses are the hunted. Immortals weren’t born to this world, yet it has provided us with a refuge for many hundreds of years. Your people continue to suffer because of our presence. They’re beginning to fight back against demons. We remember what happened the last time they did. The billions of people who died on our behalf. What is the sacrifice of one goddess if it keeps such devastation from happening again?”
“That war was so long ago. Why place your freedom—your life—at risk?” Desire persisted.
“Because I feel each and every one of those mortal deaths to this day,” Allia said. “They weigh on my soul and give me no peace. Back then, we had no idea what life meant, or how fragile and valuable it is. Now we do. My sisters know I’ll do what I can to keep the past from repeating.”
“Your sisters are selfish. You were chosen because you are the most trusting,” Desire said. “The sweetest and kindest. The most beautiful.”
Allia laughed. “You say that because you love me.”
“I say it because it’s true.” Desire’s frown deepened. “He will destroy you.”
“It won’t be so easy for him. I, too, am immortal,” Allia said gently.
“And yet you are very innocent.”