The male had pulled her off Earth, away from her allies.

Now, she couldn’t portal? Nїx took a step back and paused. Wait, he’d just maneuvered faster than she could.

Even after she’d been lightning-touched. She sucked in the ashy air slowly. That… never happened.

The other reality dawned on her. “Why can’t I see?”

Whatever was happening, she hadn’t been able to use her foresight. Phenїx couldn’t remember a time in the last millennium when she hadn’t been using her power.

Her words seemed to send a shiver through the male. The reaper’s face showed some small relief washing through him, as though he’d been waiting for this.

She blinked. “What’s happening to me?”

The male modulated his tone, “You’re coming back down off a staring contest with your power font.”

Then his lips quirked while he gave her an apologetic smile. “I’m pretty sure that means you’re in for one absolute Hell of a hangover, Phenїx.”

She swooned, the thought leaving her lightheaded. Nїx began shivering. Wait… she really couldn’t touch her power font any longer?

She reached in. Nothing. The fates… were silent. For a moment, she ceased to breathe. Then she slapped her palms over her eyes, grinding them like she was waking up.

Her soprano wailed. “NOOOO!!!”

Then she stopped.

Hee hee! Idiot, as if.

Her power was… declined. But she wasn’t the oldest Valkyrie for nothing.

Nїx peeked out from behind her fingers, as if surprised. “Oh! Hmmmmmm?” She pressed a finger to his lips, measuring, then giggled. “Guess not.”

She threw her hands behind her back and popped on her toes, smiling merrily. That just made her breasts thrust up and bounce. She noticed his gaze drop an instant, then connect back with her face.

Then she checked again. While it wasn’t giving her much of a migraine, what the male said was true.

For a long time, it had been as if she were lying in a bubble bath just a little too long in her mind. Chirping and following the twists and paths of the fates. Even after the water had gone cold.

Now, it was as if she were staring at the bath, fresh and hot, but unable to dip in. The reservoir was still there, but she was being held back by something.

“That figures,” the male clucked his tongue. “You would be the one chick in the realms to avoid getting shwasted.”

That made her jump back into the present. Her features screwed up in an expression of “the hell’d you say?!”

Nїx raised a finger to the black-clouded sky, wagging it for emphasis. “Excuse me, I do too get shwasted, quite well I might add, you brat!”

“Yeah? And no male to finish you off, I’ll reckon,” he quipped.

“As if any could,” she snorted, then smiled beatifically, “But every now and then, I’ll get a surprise.”

*   *   *   *   *

His eye ticked on that note. Well, three thousand years old, did you expect a virgin, Byron? Nope. Okay, play it rough with her.

Phenїx’s eyes flickered again. The glacier blue had returned. He sucked in a breath to steady himself. Those eyes would cut a male if he wasn’t careful.

The Valkyrie stepped forward until she was just out of striking distance. Her voice softly growled, “You didn’t answer my question, reaper. Why can’t I see?”

He shrugged offhandedly.

“Maybe the lightning polar charge kept your abilities in the always on high setting, or it's right here,” he surmised a (incorrect) suggestion, waving the scythe in front of her. “You want your foresight back? Come and take it.”

He put the scythe six inches into the ground, blade-first, and then leapt back an easy twenty meters in a bound. Distance was paramount. If she could draw the scythe.

She moved fast. A normal human wouldn’t have caught the motion that carried her in a flowing run to the scythe. When she hefted it up, shock flew over her face.

“This is-”

“-a dieumort.” He smirked, shrugging and throwing his hands up at his sides in a “whaddyaknow” posture. “Yeah, what of it?”

So she could lift it. He nodded internally to himself. Impressive. She glanced between him and the scythe in consternation. Clearly, she was weighing the gravitas of the weapon. A literal godkiller.

Where did a god go when it died? He knew.

The proto-Valkyrie narrowed her kohled eyes and started waving the blade around a bit. Had she known wearing that make-up would make those baby-blues manslayers?

He figured she was trying to see a mystickal mechanism that activated a power release.

Of course, the scythe didn’t have such a mechanism. He’d spent a little while – say, two hours – checking to see what made it tick. Until he’d heard more from the wyrms. Then he studied up on his species from the books back at home.

Nїx ran her fingers over the haft again, stopping just short of the wicked blade.

Her face went from curious, then to concerned, and ended on absolute frustration.

A few seconds later the curvy Valkyrie shook the haft like a stick. She let loose a miffed growl that ended on a high-pitched squeal.

"Rrrrrr!!!"

The reaper in him chuckled. The ancient proto-Valkyrie was too sexy adorable when she was this flustered. Her face turned to him, wearing a disappointed pout.

She aimed the blade at his throat. “How do I get them back?! Tell me, reaper!”

“Maybe kill me?”

In point of fact, that was the correct suggestion. The Valkyrie’s eyes lit up. This time, the glacier blue color was in full force. No amber or gold to be seen. Framed with those raven tresses, she was already a goddess in appearance.

Phenїx’s voice dipped, “Love to.”

She leapt at him, gripping the haft tightly and bringing it around. Aimed to disembowel him below the pelvis.

Unh-uh. Byron snapped his fingers.

The scythe lifted her free into the air, whirling her in rapid circles. She held on tight. “What the-”

Centrifugal force threw her free before she crash-landed with an “ooffuck!?” ten meters away.

The scythe landed in his grip like an old friend’s handshake. He grinned broadly while he peered over at her. “Hot damn, I love that trick.”

She was on her feet again, scowling and halfway shrieking again, “You pussy!”

“That’s what you got,” he laughed. “Need to retake your anatomy classes, there, Phenїx?”

Phenїx stomped angrily, “You absolute pussy! First you steal my swords, then my portals, and now my sight! What, you can’t fight me without stealing?”

No, it was a different order he’d stolen them, but he wasn’t about to explain that to her just yet. She must’ve lost track of it in the melee.

And what the hells was this about fair play? This femme fatale used C4 like it was firecrackers on clean-up jobs for little cretinous kobolds, for God’s sake.

“No such thing as a fair fight.” Byron looked over Scalpere Deus. His voice turned into a soft chant. “The Lore doesn’t like fair fights. It rewards the strong, the mighty, the cunning and the crafty. Sometimes, the Lore rewards the lucky, but fairness is never in the playbook.”

Her eyes were now clear enough he could discern the glacier blue was ringed with a slightly darker hue, near cobalt, at the edges.

Nїx tensed. Great, here we go.

When she ran at him this time, he threw the scythe behind him and charged her. Nїx wound up for a haymaker, then slung her other arm out, trying to throw dirt in his eyes.

She wanted to blind him! Byron batted the dirt away and swiveled to let the haymaker land obliquely on his ribs.

He rolled her over his shoulder, winging her into the ground, hard. He came down on top and pinned her.

She twisted under expertly, tried to knee him in the balls. He pressed, forced her under, and clamped her wrists together over her head with one hand.

“Pussy!” She seethed, “You-” She stopped when he ground his hips against her core. “Ohhhh!!!”

He struggled to keep her trapped. She was strong, claws curling, straining to get free of his grip. But then their hips ground together again and his blood heated.

Something in him responded. Damn it to all hells, not now!

But she was soft in all the right places for him. His shaft tucked up between them, finding that spot between her thighs.

Strong as those thigh muscles were, they were still yielding under him. Her body wasn’t all muscle. There was still wondrous female flesh there.

And her generous hips were a cradle he’d have to be nonexistent to deny wanting, needing to thrust into. He grunted to himself, Woman could bring a man five million years dead back to breathing with this body of life…

Nїx moaned and twisted again, this time like she craved to get him further against that precious place where she began; where he sorely wanted to end.

A guttural groan burst from him. Her return moan matched his. Where he shuddered, she quivered. Byron leaned into her. Plush breasts were pressed against him.

He locked gazes with her, “You’re not right in the head, Phenїx.”

“Look who’s talking, reaper,” she snapped the words out, thrashing her legs around his waist. “You’re getting all sorts of hard.”

He grunted, clutching one of her legs, ensuring she couldn’t try to squeeze his diaphragm.

“Been awhile,” he mumbled. “What can I say, you’re sexy in this outfit. And the way you’re moving, you like what you feel.”

Nїx was growling. “Been awhile. And you’re halfway cute. But seeing as how I have a goddesshood to claim and an Accession to rule over, how about you get the fuck off me???”

“You’re not going anywhere until you quit while you’re ahead." Byron shouted, "You’re about to kill my old home!”

She tried to howl, but his body caved her diaphragm enough she couldn’t shriek. Instead she gritted out, “I’m saving your old home, pussy!”

Her jaw snapped up, sinking her fangs into his forearm. He growled and clenched harder on her wrists, ignoring the burning pain while she tore at his muscle.

“That’s a bitch move, Phenїx!”

He put his face up against hers, knocking her cheek with his hard enough to bruise her.

Then he howled his deathscream at her.

That made her stop. When Nїx looked at him this time, her breath came out in a short, heavy pant.

Her eyes searched his and for a moment, they both stilled.

Then her hips kept shifting. The intensity of that touch was more intense than he’d experienced before. Just keeping that friction was more necessary than his arm for the moment. His mind burned, reveled in that wiggling tremor that crested her hips to meet his.

They were breathless. Her words lilted softly, “Reaper… What’s... what's your name?”

He inhaled her scent a moment. Flowers, shea butter. Honey. He wet his lips and mumbled, “Byron Dekker.”

Nїx stared back, licking his blood from her lips.

That should piss him off to no end. Instead, he kept focusing back on those perfect bows. Pink. Even without make-up they were a perfect shade of pink. The blues in her corneas were brighter now, glittering with silver. She was affected.

“Byron Dekker.” She sniffed. “Strange name. Strange male.”

“You haven’t gotten some strange in a while, seems like,” he retorted.

Her lips curled. “That’s because I’m a busy demigoddess, dumbass.”

She eyeballed his arm. He squeezed down a little more tightly on her wrists. “Do it and I’ll do something I’ve never done to a female before.”

Nїx gave him a killing glare. If she were a literal goddess by now, she would have fried him to a crisp with a bolt. “What? Rape me?”

The fuck?! I’ve never dreamt of doing that shit in my life!

He tightened his right hand up on her hip, squeezing. “No, but I could rip these tight pants off and suck ‘til you lose count of those orgasms you seem to be missing out on.”

She gasped. “Oh, fuck.”

Moisture seeped into his dress slacks. Byron glanced to where their bodies meshed. Her scent wafted up to him and he hardened even further.

How was it she smelled even more delectable than the first time he’d witnessed her?

Byron cocked his head to one side, gazing into her. “You want that?”

“Ye-no!!!” She struggled, whimpering. “Please get off me! Please!!!”

That word alone tore at his human heart. He disentangled himself from her legs and just narrowly avoided a halfhearted kick from her leading right foot.

“I’m off, damn it!” He popped up and moved away. “Jesus save me.”

She was tussled, hot, sweating, raven hair disheveled. If she looked like this after just a little tumble-and-grind on the floor, what would she look like after a night in bed?

His throat bobbed, even while his flesh slowly regenerated on his arm.

Damn, was she a biter in bed, too?

*   *   *   *   *

Nїx stayed on her back, her body wailing at the throbbing manic pulse in her while her mind cleared. One second he threatened to kill her, the next he was practically on the verge of worshipping her in a way she hadn’t felt in many moons.

She quirked her head, licking her lips clean of the last of his blood. She shuffled up to stare at his heaving form.

“You…?” Her voice trailed off slightly while she considered him, “You obeyed?”

Byron eyeballed her. Nїx had the distinct impression she’d just insulted him to his very core. His voice took on a strained, displeased note.

“I’m not a fucking dog, Phenїx. You said please get off. I’m not evil. I wouldn’t take you against your will.”

“You said you’d take my head,” she argued pointedly.

Why would he threaten her, take her gift and weapons away, and then end by releasing her when he had the advantage? His actions and words weren’t normal.

The male sighed. He was shaking from adrenaline, but it was a mixture of lust, frustration, and anger. Then he waved a hand over at her.

“I threatened you to get you to come at me, Phenїx. You Valkyries and the Furies respond to threats with direct violence.”

He rolled his eyes, his face telling her he felt he was explaining something obvious, “It’s your natural state to take the offense as the best defense. I goaded you.”

She sat up in shock. When he said it like that, it was so starkly simple. The common sense of it defied her Lorean logic.

“Reaper! I didn’t see that! Give me back my sight, right now!”

The male clenched his fist, peering at her with a look she recognized as half-fury, half-remorse. “I can’t give it back!”

“Why not?!?”

Exasperation blew out of him in a rush, “Because I got a mission. You’re my opponent. And until you back off and slow your fucking roll, I can’t turn off my ability.”

She frowned. That wasn’t all. He was lying. But he wasn’t even focusing on her at that moment. Instead he sucked in oxygen and drew his scythe to him. Staring at his reflection in the blade.

The bruises she’d inflicted were now healing. Phenїx found that extraordinary.

Immortal youths didn’t heal this fast without some form of nourishment. The more ancient one became, the faster one could heal. Yet this male had the taste and scent of a mortal, and he was already healing at an accelerated rate.

“Whenever a reaper gets close to a quarry or enemy, he can eliminate the opponent’s greatest strengths," he muttered. "Given enough time, he can eliminate all of them, if he wants. It’s an aura I’ve got.”

An aura? Then she caught back up on what he had said at the beginning. She snapped.

“Why am I your opponent, reaper? If you’re so big on not being evil, why’d you take my foresight and kidnap me? I’m the Vertas leader, numbnuts!”

“You’re about to wipe out a big chunk of mortal Creation and get yourself killed,” he answered heatedly. “You will pardon me if I take a smidgen of an interest in keeping that clock ticking!”

Nїx could not see what the hells he was talking about. How was it he knew that Orion threatened the mortal realm, but then said she was the one about to kill off Gaia?!

She slammed her fist into the dirt beside her, “One, the mortal realm will survive, because we will win.”

Then she peered at him more closely, “And two, you’re a reaper, death is kinda your shtick, right? So, what’s mass death change for you?

“What’s it matter if I die? Even though I won’t! I’m about to become a goddess, asshole!”