The Sinner (Black Dagger Brotherhood #18) - J.R. Ward Page 0,119

aware that I have stepped aside?

Stepped aside how?

I have relinquished my role of overseer of mine creation to another. Did you not know this?

Given the long pause that followed, it was evident he did not.

I have, Brother mine. I am no longer in my Sanctuary. I have assigned my authority unto another and I have departed.

The hood moved as if the Omega recoiled. Whyever for?

Over the course of eons, I have determined that my strength is in creation. It is not in the maintenance of such creation. She thought of her borne son and daughter. The act of bringing into being a mortal—or many of them—is not the same as parenting them. One does not know this until it is too late, however. Until one has done damage that is regrettable.

It was a relief to speak her truth aloud, but she stopped herself. Her brother was hardly a trusted confidant and she had likely given him too much already.

Meanwhile, the Omega tilted his head and drifted by at the balustrade, staring down to the staircase, to what was below. When he came back toward her, she braced herself for some kind of pronouncement. Or a triumphal insult about her lack of fortitude.

Where do you stay the now? he asked instead.

I spend time with Father. But mostly, I drift through the centuries and observe my behavior. I try to see where I went wrong. There is much to review in that regard. An urgency to change her sibling’s course made her want to go unto his side, but she kept herself where she was. And that is why I say unto you, stop this. Relinquish. Depart the field of conflict and save yourself.

The Omega shrugged beneath his tattered robe. And then do what?

Exist. Learn— As the Omega made a dismissive sound, the Scribe Virgin tightened her tone. ’Tis better than not existing.

I may still win, you realize. The hood turned toward her. You take for granted the outcome shall be in your favor.

Surely it is better to concede than to risk being destroyed.

One of the stained robe’s sleeves lifted, and the black shadow of her brother appeared to be lifting a forefinger. Ah, but remember my nature.

Even if you are the one annihilated? Surely that is a foolish testament to your character.

At least it is my purpose culminated, which is more than I can say for you the now.

The Scribe Virgin shook her head. Creation is linked with nurturing. Or at least it should be. I have excelled at the former, I seek to discover the skills of the latter. I would say that is a worthwhile pursuit.

You and I are so different.

Yes, Brother mine. We are.

An evil tone entered the Omega’s communication. I would rather be destroyed than disappear.

That is, of course, your decision.

And I shall take you down with me. Either way, whether I win or lose, you will no longer be free. In the former, it will be because you mourn the deaths of your precious creation, the prison of your pain an eternity in Dhunhd I will have the perpetual satisfaction of knowing I made manifest. In the latter, it will be because you will implode with me. The universe cannot be unbalanced. Our Father will not allow it, and He will sacrifice your existence to maintain His own legacy, trust me. If I go, you go.

It was strange for an immortal to fear the end of themselves. To brace against the snuffing out. To wish to avoid such an outcome. And the Scribe Virgin kept all of those feelings far, far away from the tip of her consciousness’s spear.

That is not up to us, she said. Father will determine the consequence, if any, if you cease to be.

Well, He is certainly going to determine one other thing. The Omega’s satisfaction colored his words with an arrogance that was another attribute intrinsic to his nature. You violated our agreement and therefore I am due restitution. You changed the course of the game, therefore I am permitted a redress.

When did I do that? By speaking with Butch tonight? I most certainly did not change the course of anything. Brother mine, you are unreasonable—

Father has always been our intermediary, at your request. Therefore I shall seek an audience unto him and he will decide what is fair.

The Scribe Virgin kept her emotions in check as frustration surged. And this declaration is the reason you brought me here?

Yes. It is.

Your contest of my action is naught but pretense. Nothing in

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