Horus's invitation had succeeded in making me anxious.

No, perhaps invitation was far too kind for what he'd said to me. It was more like a threat. If I didn't show up when he asked me to, he was going to turn his sights on my father, and that made my skin crawl. My father had left him alone these past few centuries. He'd avoided Horus, and Horus had done the same. My father had found peace since then. He'd found someone to truly love and value him the way he deserved it.

Someone who was currently visiting and also invited to the festivities. Mictlantecuhtli was the Aztec god of death, and the underworld that bore his name. He was a huge god, taller than my father, and with skin the color of rich caramel, his eyes deep blood red. His long black hair was done in an intricate ponytail with ribbons and tinsel tied into it. My father had once said that Mictlan's wife, Mictlancihuatl, did his hair. I wondered if she did his outfit as well, considering it always suited him so well. A dark deadly appearance that brought a whole new meaning to a god of death.

Mictlantecuhtli, or just Mictlan for short, was my father's one and only lover. My parents were still married, mostly for political reasons, but it was an open marriage as long as they were honest with one another about their partners and while my mother had many, my father only had Mictlan.

He had arrived earlier in the night with his middle son, Cuetlachtli. Somehow, I think he only did it to torment Cuet, considering Anubis just loved driving the poor male insane. Cuet very obviously loathed Anubis and was constantly shutting him down and telling him quite bluntly to fuck off, but Anubis never took a hint. Thankfully, Cuet had decided to hide out in his quarters at my father's palace while Anubis was stuck helping my mother prepare for the festival.

I struggled to focus on what my father was saying, but I couldn't with worries over what Horus could possibly want from my father. I looked at my father, who looked thoroughly annoyed about being dragged into festival planning when he hated the whole idea of parties.

My father was a beautiful male. That went without saying. But he looked smaller, more feminine, standing next to Mictlan. Even though he was anything, but. My father may look docile, but there was a danger in him that anyone could sense, and it had to be his Beast. Or, well, that's what most people assumed anyway. I myself knew for a fact my father simply just hated me and didn't want me to be around. It was why I couldn't comprehend why my mother kept sending me to him.

And why Horus was after him now.

He'd gone after my father before, but that was to control him in order to protect the pantheon. Or so he claimed. In actuality, he was threatened by my father's power and needed to find a way to subjugate him. Yet, certainly he'd have overcome that fear by now, or at least accepted it. So what did my father have that Horus wanted? Obviously it was something I could also give him.

Something my father had. Something I had. And something that apparently my mother nor my brother had either, if Horus came to me and not Anubis or my mother. Or anyone else for that matter. It was something that set us apart. What could that possibly be?

My father and I had nothing in common, save for our names, obviously, and our appearance. We both had long black hair, both had similar builds, our skin tone was nearly the same, though I had apparently paled out spending time in Hades, according to my mother. We had similar features. A lot of people had always commented on how much we looked alike, and my mother said that my father used to glow with pride.

Now, no one dared tell my father such a thing, lest he vaporize them on the spot.

Shame didn't begin to explain how my father felt for me. He couldn't even look at me directly most of the time. He didn't touch me. He didn't even say my name. My mother claimed I had a room in the palace, even, but I didn't dare stay a night in the palace. My father didn't want me there. He never invited me himself, never asked me to stay like he asked Anubis.

I would be lying if I said it didn't sting a bit. There was a part of me, a childish part of me, that was desperate for him to look at me again. I wanted him to see me and smile like he did with Anubis. He joked with Anubis, had deep conversations with him. They even went to brunch together on weekends. Fuck, Anubis had even gone with him to Mictlan to stay for a week, because my father had asked him.

My betrayal had ruined what little relationship we had.

My mother always talked as if we had one too. But from what I remembered, my father had always been hard to get along with. Anything I did displeased him. However, he used to say my name. He used to hug me sometimes. At least he spoke to me while looking me in the eyes.

Now, it was like I was a cockroach in the room that he couldn't get rid of.

"Hey! You're not listening!" I blinked, snapping out of my thoughts to see my father snapping his fingers in my face. When I looked at him blankly, he rolled his eyes and glanced at Mictlan, who cocked his head a little, apparently concerned.

"Are you alright?" He asked me, his deep rumbling baritone a comfort comparedto my father's sneer.

"My apologies. I didn't sleep well last night," I answered smoothly. I hadn't. I had drank too much. I had told myself that only one drink would do the trick, but lately, it had taken more and more to get myself to sleep, and even then, I never stayed asleep. I woke up in the night and wandered the palace, sat in the garden, read or surfed the Internet with no real purpose.

Of course, no one knew how I had been trying to get myself to sleep since my return.

My betrayal all those years ago was enough to bring shame to my family. If they found out I was an alcoholic on top of that, they would only banish me again and this time, I had nowhere else to go.

"You should try meditation," Mictlan offered, making me arch a brow and even Set looked at him with an expression that asked really, babe, really, "What? You know as well as I do that it really does help." Set looked away.

"I find other things that help," he said, and he didn't elaborate, which made me grimace and Mictlan's lips twitched, like he was amused, "Anyway, forget it. I'm done. I'm not repeating myself. Jesus Christ, kid. Your attention span is shorter than Anubis's, which is saying something. Just go back to your mother's place. You're useless here." I somehow managed not to flinch at that and inclined my head, vanishing before he or Mictlan could say another word.

You're useless here.

It appeared that was the case no matter where I went.

Upon arriving at my mother's palace, there was too much going on to even get to my mother in the main hall. I beelined for the garden instead, desperate to find some kind of peace, if not from my thoughts, then at least the mayhem inside.

I sought a quiet bench and sat, staring up at the palms that fanned out over the small pond where a crane was dipping its narrow beak into the water that trickled softly over rocks and under the dance of dragonflies.

Useless.

If anything, that's how I'd felt most of my life, I realized bitterly. I was useless to stop a war between my pantheon and the Greeks. I was useless as a servant and a protector to Theo. I was useless as a lover. I was useless as a friend, a brother, an employee... a son. It felt that, no matter what I did, nothing turned out right. I tried to walk the path I was given, yet I always fell off. Even with such simple instructions, I couldn't do anything right.

It was my relationship with Theo that had brought that all to light.

I couldn't help him. I couldn't save him. There had been a part of me in the beginning, full of hope for the future. Theo was still cutting, yes, but he would stop. I knew he would. If I gave him the love and affection that he hadn't had as a child, he would realize he didn't need to cut himself to feel good anymore. That was what I was for. To make him feel good. Physically and emotionally.

And I had thrown myself entirely into our relationship. I had stopped going out with the other second-in-commands. I had stopped even going out with other members of the household, like work parties. I had no use for anything, but Theo. Everything I did was about him. I had even killed his own damn mother, or who we thought was his mother at the time. She was my last ditch effort to save Theo. When everything I tried hadn't work up until then, I realized she had to be the last thing connecting Theo to his self-harm, to his self-loathing.

By killing her, Theo would be cured.

Except he wasn't.

He continued to cut and I began to panic. Why wasn't he getting better? Why was he still cutting? Even worse, he'd started locking the door so I couldn't go in to check on him. He claimed it was annoying having me freak out every time I caught him cutting. He didn't understand my pain at seeing him hurt himself. He didn't understand why it was wrong, even though I had tried to explain it to him as gently as I could. He always got angry.

That was how it began. We would argue first. I would pretend to throw away his razors without thinking and he would buy new ones. I would throw them away again and he would get angry and buy more boxes. I threw them away and he eventually put a lock on the drawer, enchanting it so I couldn't open it. He would hide them in other areas of the house as well. I couldn't find all of his hiding spots.

I needed to find time to myself. I needed to figure out how I could solve this problem. So I would go to the bars and drink... and drink and drink, and didn't do much figuring out of the problem. I would come home and he would want me, though. He would always open his arms to me and...

It got worse.

We had to have some kind of pain when we had sex. Well, he did anyway. He needed me to claw his back or his hips. He refused to have lubrication. He refused to do much foreplay, unless it involved something painful, like cutting. When I offered a change, he would deny it. Eventually, I just couldn't find enjoyment in it anymore, and he was starting to notice. I panicked and bought medication. It would work until we found something different to do. Until Theo felt ready.

And he never did.

So I drank and took the pills. That was the ritual. Go out and drink, take the pills, have violent sex. Argue, go out and drink, take the pills, violent sex.

But like most band-aids to a wound, this one came off and the wound was festering. Our relationship was crumbling until it was no more.

I had been a useless boyfriend, a useless lover.

I couldn't satisfy Theo. I couldn't save him. The nightmares haunted me. I couldn't sleep because I kept coming up with things I could've done differently. I could've tried to get him help. I could've asked someone, surely.

Theo would never have seen a therapist.

No. He didn't see one until after we broke up. He wouldn't see a therapist for me. He needed to see one for himself.

Maybe you need a fucking therapist. No doubt about that. Except I knew what was wrong with me. There was just a part of me that was done caring. I was so tired of trying to hope. I was so tired of waking up in the morning and convincing myself that things would be different, when I knew damn well what was going to happen.

I smiled and I played the right cards all day. I made my mother smile. I made Anubis sigh in relief. I left my father alone. I behaved, then went home and drank myself to sleep. The next day was simply a repeat. I couldn't change it. It had become a habit. I was centuries old. This was just the way life was now. And I had accepted it.

As long as the people around me were happy, that was all that mattered. If I could at least do that, I was content...

Yet somehow, it was getting harder and harder to smile. I could see worry in my mother's eyes, concern in Anubis's expression, and growing anger in my father.

You're useless.

I had to try harder.

I pressed my lips together as I came to a decision.

I had to try harder. If that meant playing Horus's game, then I would have no choice. To maintain some level of purpose, and to maintain the happiness of those around me, I would do what I needed to do. After all, what did I have to lose?

"You look confident about something."

I tensed, looking up to see Tupac standing across the clearing in the garden. I hadn't even noticed him approach. His long hair was done up in a style similar to Mictlan's, elaborate, yet somehow simplistic with ribbons braided into the dark locks, a few loose strands around his ears and forehead, giving him a more relaxed and casual appearance. He wore a cacti pattern shirt with a blue button up over top of it with the sleeves rolled over his thick biceps, his khakis going down to a pair of sandals.

He smiled at my reaction to his presence.

"Sorry, didn't mean to sneak up on you," he said.

"You didn't," I said immediately. I wasn't sure why I felt so defensive. He seemed amused by it, but didn't comment as he walked over and looked at the pond behind me.

"Your mother's garden is quite lovely," he murmured, scanning the scenery, "You spend a lot of time here." I frowned at that, looking up at him questioningly. He glanced at me and smirked.

"I saw you from my window. You've been sitting here for a good three hours, just... sitting. Don't you get bored?" He asked, turning to take a seat beside me. I shook my head slowly, averting my eyes and feeling uncomfortable that he'd seen me sitting here like an idiot.

"I just need some rest from all the excitement," I said, "How about you? Are you finding plenty to occupy yourself? If you'd like, I can have Abasi take you into town to shop." Tupac wrinkled his nose.

"I'm not much of a shopper. But it is awfully tempting just to bother Abasi," he said. I found myself smirking.

"Don't tell me you harass him too," I said, making him raise an eyebrow and I shook my head, "My brother is the same way. Were he not immortal, I think the combination of you two would kill him." Tupac chuckled at that, shrugging in a way that was boyish and charming. He sat back, hooking his thumbs in his pockets as he looked around the garden before those eyes settled on me. I looked back at him curiously before a small smile touched his lips.

"You're so difficult to read," he said at last, making me frown, "You smile, you're polite, you say all the right things, and yet somehow, I feel like your heart isn't in it." I hesitated. Had I done something to offend him? I couldn't remember doing anything false to give him the indication I was faking.

"I'm sorry," I said after a moment. Tupac shook his head.

"It's nothing to apologize for. I'm just wondering what the shadows in your eyes mean," he responded, making me tense a little, "What's breaking your heart."

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about," I admitted with a shrug, rising to my feet as I became uncomfortable, "But I've wasted enough time sitting here. I'll be taking my leave. Please don't hesitate to ask if you need something. Abasi will take you into town if you wish or fetch you something to do." Tupac inclined his head, but his eyes remained on me, even as I walked away. I could feel the heat of them as I quickly made my way inside, only to smack right into Anubis, who made an obnoxiously loud sound to indicate I'd startled him.

"Jeez, what's your hurry," Anubis exclaimed. I rolled my eyes and walked past him. Much to my disappointment, he followed me back into the palace.

"Where are you off to?" He asked. Why did he insist on pestering me? I couldn't remember him ever being this much of a pain, but I suppose seeing me have a mental breakdown while drunk changed his view on me. I was ashamed he'd had to see me like that, and even more so that he felt he needed to protect me from unseen threats.

"I'm going to my room," I answered. I wasn't going to let it slip that Horus had invited me to see him. Anubis would go insane and probably seek Horus out for a fist fight, one he wouldn't win.

"Ugh," he made a noise of disgust, "That sounds boring."

"I have books I wish to read."

"Even worse. Why don't we go out tonight?"

"Where exactly? I have no interest in brothels or night clubs."

"Okay, first of all, I find it offensive that you would assume I frequent such establishments. Second of all... what the hell is wrong with frequenting said establishments? Prostitutes tell the best jokes and nightclubs have the best drinks, so excuse me for being cultured and not staying home in my room locked up all night reading fucking dissertations."

"It's not a dissertation; it's an article about the study of the vampirism in mortals and how the different blood types can affect them."

"Holy fuck, Sept, we did that in school. Don't torture yourself now."

I struggled to hurry away from him as I made my way down the hallway toward the stairs to my room. The whole time, he complained and urged me to leave the palace, as per usual. He seemed to be desperate to get me out of the house, and while I appreciated where it came from, I'd wish he'd surrender to the fact that it wasn't my style anymore.

Besides, if I went out anywhere with alcohol, I wouldn't be able to stop myself from drinking myself to death. Anubis was an idiot if he thought I could go there and not drink all night.

"Anubis! Anubis, you heartless ungrateful spawn!" Our mother's shrill scream echoed through the halls, making me turn to Anubis, who cringed.

"Oh shit."

"What did you do now?" I demanded. Anubis held his hands up innocently in surrender, which only made him look more guilty. A blast of power went through the halls, blowing our clothes around and hair back. I looked pointedly at Anubis, who sighed.

"I may or may not have deflowered one of her handmaidens," he said, making my eyes widen and my mouth fall open at something that would have gotten anyone else in the palace killed, "It wasn't even recent! Shit, I knew that bitch was too good to be true." Without another word in his defense, he vanished. I shook my head at that, heading back toward my room to shut myself in for a few minutes before vanishing from my mother's palace to Horus's.

Where my mother's palace could be considered rather gaudy, Horus's was an ultimate testament to his narcissism. His temple was layered in gold that gleamed in the sunlight like a giant gem in and of itself. Jewels adorned the windows and entryways and, like it had so long ago, held only entryways with no doors, a bold invitation to enter and enjoy yourself, or enter and perish slowly and painfully. I was unsure exactly where I stood in terms of the invitation, but I entered nonetheless.

I walked through the main entrance where a large glass dome allowed a beautiful view of the sky, and I couldn't imagine how stunning it would be to look through at night to see all the stars and the moon.

I wasn't met by anyone in the main foyer, even after standing there for a few moments. It appeared Horus wanted to play a game, and while it was tempting to simply leave, as I wasn't one for these kinds of games, I felt the underlying threat to Horus's invitation and decided to prowl around in search of the god.

The palace was large, very open and spacious, with not much decor, and what did decorate the palace were erotic mosaics and the great tales of Horus.

Horus was a special god in the pantheon. He was the physical manifestation of reincarnation, and Horus was on his third incarnation. According to my mother, the previous incarnation of Horus was benevolent and kind. However, he'd made a few selfish decisions in his last life and it had led to this new incarnation, who was entirely cruel and selfish, just as his final decisions had been in his previous life.

As such, Horus was the only god who aged the way he did. Most gods could age if they so pleased, but not many did. The previous Horus incarnation had, of course, allowed himself to age regularly instead of slower, but only so much up until his death. This new incarnation was obsessed with himself and the idea of growing old would shatter his ego. My question came in how he had lasted this long without aging. Even my mother was confused by it. No one knew how Horus maintained his age, as his magic shouldn't be able to allow him to do such. He should've died and reincarnated long ago, but he didn't. So what was he doing to maintain his current self?

I hoped it didn't last much longer. I would prefer a much more agreeable Horus, but until then, we were stuck with this one.

I continued to mill around the palace, not finding trace of him, until I reached the second floor, which was basically one large room with a massive circular bed in the middle. Windows lined the walls, looking out over the city to one side and the desert through the others. The floors were made of smooth glossy cement, the furniture minimal, but clearly expensive and extravagant. It was what one would consider a throne room, except instead of the throne, there was a bed, which said all that needed to be said about Horus's life.

"My favorite nephew." Horus's voice came on a breeze against the back of my neck. I stiffened, then snapped around to see him coming from the staircase that I had just taken. I hadn't felt him there at all. Goosebumps threatened to surface on my skin, but I quickly reminded myself that would only further feed Horus's ego.

He craved power and control.

It was why he'd targeted my father the way he had.

Everyone knew that Set was the most powerful of our pantheon, aside from Ra. Not only did his Beast assist him in that title, but Set himself allowed no other to stand as his equal. Even my mother recognized Set as the most powerful. She simply took advantage of the fact that Set happened to like her a bit. Emphasis on the a bit piece.

"My, you look surprisingly attractive in this lighting," Horus commented, sweeping his gaze over me from head to toe before meeting my eyes with a secret smile, "You almost look like your father." I immediately frowned at that, perturbed by his comment. I averted my eyes for a moment, then glanced back to see him staring at me intently.

"What is it that you need my help with?" I asked after a moment, purposely allowing my agitation to show as a silent can we hurry this up. Horus chuckled at that, moving past me to walk over near the bed, looking down at it before looking up at me.

"What do you know of my reincarnation stages, nephew?" He asked. How could he make that word sound like a slur? He also was one of the ones who didn't seem fond of using my name often.

"Perhaps as much as anyone else," I replied slowly, "This is your third reincarnation." Horus smiled thinly as he looked down at his hands. I noted the age spots there, the bulge of his veins, the withered look of them. They almost seemed older than himself as a whole.

"I am the only one of our pantheon who does not age like the rest," he added, sighing heavily, "My age shows. This incarnation is nearly as old as your mother. Yet she walks freely like a model, and here I am, slowly withering." I frowned, watching him as he stood there, staring out the window for a moment before he turned to face me.

"Can I trust you, nephew?" He asked. I cocked my head.

"Trust me with what?" I returned. Horus's lips twitched in an amused smirk before he slowly approached me, enough to where I had to tilt my head back to glare at him as he invaded my personal space.

"Can I trust you to be the kind and caring child that you are? Can I trust you to love your family like no other, even as your father scorns your very existence? Can I trust you to be desperate to do anything to save them, even if it meant sacrificing yourself?" He asked. I tensed at that, both his words and their eeriness, and the fact that he'd called me a child. He was older, sure, but I was certainly no child. I was also reaching my several thousandth year of existence, so what did he think he was going to gain by calling me a child?

"Spit it out," I commanded, watching Horus's smirk widen at my angry response, and that only infuriated me further, "I am not here to play games. You asked for my help... No, rather, you threatened me, you threatened my father, if I didn't come here. So what the hell do you want from me, Horus?" Horus chuckled low, his movements slow as he reached up to brush a lock of his hair behind his ear, his eyes lowering to his feet. The action was sheepish, almost bashful, sweet even, but it was quickly dispensed as he looked up and those golden eyes met mine.

Faster than I could track, Horus had his arm around my waist, my body hauled up against his body, and his mouth was buried against my throat. I choked, grabbing onto his biceps before shouting in pain. His fangs pierced my skin with no mercy, and I immediately felt him tug at my vein. My muscles quivered under the sensation and I shuddered, shoving at him as best I could, but to no avail.

Then, as quickly as he had done it, he released me and stepped back. I gasped for breath, reaching up to touch my throat, feeling blood bubble from the puncture wounds that weren't healing for some reason.

"What the hell are you doing?" I demanded breathlessly. Horus licked his lips, then reached up with his thumb to push a heavy bead of blood into his mouth. He suckled his thumb for a moment, closing his eyes with relish before he opened them once more. There was something different there in those golden eyes, something more feral and hungry. It sent a chill down my spine.

"Blood," Horus said after a moment, making me glare at him in confusion, "I need your blood, your body." I had no idea what to say to that. I was too stunned to even sputter for words. All I could do was stare at him as my throat throbbed and my blood flowed freely between my fingers and ran in rivulets down my shoulder.

Blood? Body? What the hell was he talking about? Why on earth would he need that from me?

"You don't think I lived this long in this vessel without sustenance, did you," Horus asked with a soft laugh, reaching up to tuck a lock of my hair behind my ear. I couldn't move, only stare at him, open-mouthed, wordless. He chuckled, clearly amused by my reaction. His touch made my skin crawl and I took a step away from him.

"Fuck you," I managed, finally finding words and thankful that my inner Theo had decided to come out, "Fuck yourself. Fuck off. Hell no." Horus smiled, and it only succeeded in creeping me out further.

"See, dear nephew, you really don't have a choice," he said, making me gear up for a long list of reasons why yes, I had a choice, and no, I wasn't going to do it, except he continued on quickly and harshly, "What? Do you think I'm blind, nephew? You think I don't see the way Set's avoidance of you hurts you? You don't think I see how desperate you are to please your fucking daddy? When Set says sit, you sit. When he says bark, you ask how loud. Dear sweet precious nephew, you'd even let me fuck you if it meant protecting your father." I stiffened at his words, infuriated that he thought for one second I would dare let him touch me in such a manner.

And a sliver of fear quickly joined my rage when I realized how eerily close Horus was watching me to have to pick up on my feelings.

I wasn't sure where the insane need to please my father came from. Perhaps I just wanted him to look at me, notice me for once, just me, and not compare me to someone else, my own brother even. Perhaps I just wanted him to acknowledge me. Perhaps I just wanted to hear him say my fucking name for once and at least touch my arm in a way that assured me he gave a modicum of a shit. I had no fucking idea why I felt that way. And it terrified me that Horus saw it so easily.

"You're going to do this for me," Horus continued, making me snort in disagreement, and that only made him smile again, much to my annoyance, "Do you know why, nephew?"

"Enlighten me," I said through clenched teeth. Horus chuckled and approached me again. This time, when I tried to move, I found myself unable to do so. I was trapped in place with no choice, but to stand there with blood pushing between my fingers, quickly drawing me to levels of nausea and weak panic. Horus stood chest-to-chest with me, those gold eyes looking at me like filth.

"Because if you don't give me that pretty neck of yours when I call for it, I will find it elsewhere. I will find it from your father again," he sneered, and I started to remind him why he had left my father alone in the first place, only for him to reach up and grab my jaw, "Or I can find it from your brother. I only came to you as a courtesy to your love for them. Perhaps I should have gone to Anubis instead?" I tensed at that.

"Leave him alone," I seethed. Horus cracked a smile now.

"There he is. Our valiant protector. Always trying to do what's right, yet somehow still getting his ass kicked," he chuckled, releasing my jaw and leaving it sore and bruised, "Listen to me and listen well, sweet nephew. You will come when I call, and you will give me what I want. If you fight, I will go after your father and your brother. If you try to tell them, well... Just imagine trying to explain to them that I used you like a condom and cast you aside. Imagine how much your father will love you then, and what little love your brother holds for you? What would he do if he found out that his sweet baby brother got drunk and fucked his uncle?" My eyes widened at that.

"I never--"

"But he'd believe that, wouldn't he," Horus murmured, then reached up and placed a hand on my cheek, brushing his thumb under my eye, "Poor little Sept the alcoholic. He simply could not resist falling into the hands of the first person to show him kindness after the Greek snot broke his heart. Maybe he came after me, or perhaps he came after someone else?" I looked at him in disbelief. Who would come forward and say that I had sex with them? Who would--

"Magenta." Horus announced, stepping back from me. I was allowed to turn my head to see a petite female come in. She was a vampire, that I picked up right away by the unique curve of her fangs. She sauntered over, sexy as can be, with her long black hair falling past her narrow waist, her hips wide and her breasts heavy, her dark body completely naked and revealed.

"Tell me, my sweet Magenta," Horus murmured, taking the female against his body and the female purred at the attention, "What did my nephew do to you in his drunken rage?" Magenta looked up at him with doe-eyed hazels before she looked at me, and her eyes immediately welled with tears as she touched her lips in horror.

"I told him to stop," she whimpered, "I begged him to stop, to seek help for his addiction, but he simply wouldn't do it, Master Horus. He was a monster. He tore my clothes from me. I even bit him to make him stop, but he wouldn't. He raped me, Master Horus." Horror ripped through me at something that was a death sentence. Handmaidens were sacred property in our culture. Their virginity was owned by their employers. While normally it wasn't too bad if a god raped a handmaiden, if another god raped another god's handmaiden, that was a different story.

Not to mention, my pantheon already hated me. And it would only bring further shame to my family. The threat sat like a cold heavy rock in my gut as I struggled to suck air into my lungs. I looked back at Horus, who chuckled, then reached down and wiped away Magenta's tears. Magenta moaned softly at the touch, reaching up to take Horus's hands into hers and she suckled her false tears from his hands before she shot me a coy smile.

"One of my favorites," Horus chuckled, then glanced sideways at me, "And very well liked among the people. They call her the falconer, because she seems to have such a way in soothing me. Even your dear mother likes my Magenta." I swallowed thickly as Horus released her and came to stand in front of me once more.

"I don't like repeating myself," he said slowly, "But I will, for your sake... You will do this for me, Sept. You will come when I call and you will feed me until I am sated. I will send you back home, back to your room safely where you can recover alone, away from your family. I will keep this as quiet as you will, as will Magenta. That is our deal. And we will seal it once I hear you say it." I clenched my teeth, glancing at Magenta, who smiled and wiggled her fingers at me in a wave. I looked back at Horus, feeling a lump form in my throat.

I was getting weaker by the second. I could feel the power draining from me. I was becoming lightheaded, dizzy, almost numb really. And with it, I could feel the fight being sucked away as I realized I was backed into a corner.

If I spoke out against Horus, the pantheon would definitely choose him over me. And even if my family somehow believed me, they would be shamed by the rest of our pantheon. And if they didn't believe me... gods, what would they do? I'd been banished for treason once, ostracized the second time. Raping another god's handmaiden in a drunken rage? Death would be too kind for me. For all I knew, Horus would probably find a way to hold me prisoner and I would end up in this situation either way.

If I agreed now, at least I fucking agreed. At least it was my decision.

But my skin shriveled at the thought of Horus getting anywhere near me. My gag reflex kicked in and my stomach churned. I pressed my lips tight together and Horus chuckled low, approaching me once more, and while I knew he'd dropped the spell on me so I could move, I couldn't bring myself to back away this time as I felt the fight vanish.

He reached up and touched my cheek, forcing my head up so I had to look at him through a glare.

"Say it," he whispered. I seethed.

"Deal."