throne that sits atop a dais made entirely of shields, and long, long tables full of food and drink, waiting for the warriors that clash outside. There are weapon racks all along the walls and more weapons hang from the stonework. And…that’s about it. Well, there’s a web in one corner between two pillars, but I half expected that after seeing Rhagos’s throne room. Still, it’s not the most comfortable of locations unless you’re a fan of swords, swords, and more swords.
Oh, and axes.
I’m clearly going to have to set up a girl cave of some kind. Something with some books—once I learn how to read the languages of this world—and a few soft places to sit. Music. A bath. Something. It’s doable, though. Aron’s a god. He’ll figure it out.
I sigh happily at Aron as he looks at me. “Take me to bed?”
My big, brawny man pauses. “I…have no bed. A god does not sleep.”
“But you’ll fix that for me soon enough, right? You’ll get a bed for your anchor?” I give his chest a pat.
“I will get anything for my anchor,” he vows, a smile on his lips as he gazes down at me. “She just has to ask.”
“I’ll give you a honey-do list soon enough.” I lay my head against his shoulder. “For now, it’s just enough to be here with you.” I stroke his chest, despite the armor. I can hardly believe that I get to be here with him, after everything that’s happened. It doesn’t seem real. For the first time since we’ve been together, no one’s trying to kill us. No one’s plotting to attack. It’s just…us.
Aron carries me over to his throne like a bride over the threshold. “For now, this will have to do. I’ll get you your own chair soon enough, but right now I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
“What, you can’t wave a hand and magic up a chair?” I tease. “This fucking godhood thing is a sham!”
He sits down in his throne and settles me in his lap, my legs over the opposite arm of the chair. “That would be Tadekha, and she has yet to return. But tomorrow, I promise I will create a war in Glistentide so I can demand tribute in the form of fine goods for my anchor.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him not to go to war, but this is who he is. I’m not going to suddenly change him to the god of peace. I like Aron just as he is, flaws and all. “Just make it like, a trade war or something. Something benign. I’m tired of all the death.”
Aron throws his head back and laughs. “Very well. A trade war.” He chuckles and then cups my face, gazing down at me. “Never leave me again, Faith. I nearly went mad with grief when I realized what you did.”
“I had to. The Spidae had hinted at things and they all sort of lined up. I realize they were angling for us to win.” I stroke his chest, content. “Maybe they saw the anchor thing coming up? In the future? And this was the best way to do it—to dick over the two of us.”
The lord of storms grunts in agreement. “If I never see them again, it will be too soon.” His hand slides down to my breast, and he teases the nipple through the slinky fabric of my black gown. “Also, I don’t like that you’re wearing Rhagos’s colors. It reminds me of what I had to go through to get you back. From now on, I only want you in my colors, red and gray.”
“I can do that.” Hell, I can do any and all of it. I don’t care. I’m just…ecstatic to be with him. “I saw Solat and Vitar in the underworld. No, it wasn’t really the underworld. It was the place between, where the faithful wait to be retrieved.”
Aron nods. “I will get them and the other faithful tomorrow. You will go with me.”
Not a request, but a command. My bossy, arrogant Aron. I fucking love this man. I brush my fingers over his eyepatch. “You gave up your eye for me?”
“It wasn’t mine to begin with. An easy concession. I lost mine to the dragon One-Tooth many millennia ago. Remember?”
I remember. “It still makes me unhappy—”
“As does the fact that you went behind my back to try to fix things on your own,” Aron says in a deadly voice.