But these were Chosen.
Innocent mortals who were likely being abused. Or worse. And, gods, I thought about Andreia again. There was worse, and I could walk right—
A scream made my heart leap in my chest. My head cut to the chamber. A Chosen stood at the opening, gloved hands lifted to their veiled head.
“It’s okay.” I stepped forward. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
More screams tore through the air as another Chosen spotted me. They rushed forward, grasping the one who stood near the opening and hauling them back from me. Not that I blamed them.
I looked quite…murderous, covered in blood and carrying a sword.
A door within the chamber swung open, and a silver-haired man shuffled out, clothed in gold robes. “What in all that is holy is going—？” Gray brows shot up, causing deeper creases in his skin as he got an eyeful of me. “My gods,” he uttered.
“I’m not a threat,” I began. “I’m—”
“Guards!” the man shouted, his robes swishing as he twisted around to the door he’d come out of. “Guards!”
“Damn it,” I gasped.
Left with no choice, I took off running as fast as I could. My heart pounded in rhythm with my steps. I flew down the hall and then moved into another, the chambers on either side a blur. It was only then when it occurred to me that the guards weren’t the only thing I needed to be worried about. The vicious, flesh-eating dakkais were pets in Dalos. Little too late to worry about that now.
Shouts erupted from behind me, but I kept running, darting into another hall, a different chamber—
I came to a complete stop. I couldn’t process what I was seeing for a moment, even though I understood the soft, breathy moans and flashes of bare skin. It was all just so very unexpected.
People in all stages of undress were sprawled across the floor in groups of two, three…and, wow. My gaze danced over a woman riding a man, her heavy breasts swaying while another took her from behind, her hands and mouth full. She smiled around one cock as the man groaned…
Goodness, that took talent.
A man had another bent over the arm of a couch, his hips plunging while the other buried his head between a half-dressed woman’s thighs. She had her mouth on another woman who reclined, legs spread. Some were on gold and sapphire silk-draped mattresses. Others on couches. Some merely watched the festivities, their hands pumping cocks or fingers delving deeply inside themselves.
Blinking, I shook my head. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen something like this. After all, there were similar spaces back home at The Luxe, but these weren’t mortals. Instead, the lust-laden eyes here glowed with eather. This was a chamber full of gods fucking. Fucking gods.
Slowly, I backed out and returned to the hall.
Without a single person seeming to notice me, I was running once more. Damn it. I didn’t know where to go, and the place was a maze of halls and chambers. I skidded into yet another passageway, my breath coming out in shallow, short pants.
The area I’d entered was darker, with no windows to let any natural light in, and there was a strange smell in the air.
Metallic.
Bloody.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Unease snaked its way through me as I crept forward. Tapestries with gold brocade hung from walls and gently rippled, disturbed by some sort of breeze. I glanced up, spotting the spinning blades of fans along the ceiling.
I swallowed, pushing forward. Several chambers were empty, only full of shadows, but they… I squinted. They appeared damp. Wet. The rich scent of iron permeated the air.
There were sounds here, too, coming from candlelit spaces with shrouded archways.
Hungry, greedy noises.
I tightened my grip on the sword as I passed a marble statue of a man holding a shield in one hand, and a small child against his chest with the other.
Both were missing their heads.
Keep going, I told myself. Just keep going. There had to be a stairwell somewhere.
A shout exploded from within a shrouded chamber, one filled with pain and terror, not pleasure.
I stopped, turning to my right. A cry sounded, weaker and shorter. Keep going. My chest clenched as I glanced back to where I’d come from. I had no idea where the guards were, but the sounds, the greedy slurping…
Damn it.
Some days, I hated myself. Prowling toward the gauzy black curtain, this was one of them.
Shoving the barrier aside, I scanned the dimly lit space. There were no couches or chairs in here, just mantels full of lit, half-melted candles and a mattress on the floor—one with rust-hued stains.
And it was not bare.
A dark-haired woman was on top of a man, her face buried in his throat. She wore a shapeless white gown or robe, but I could still see her body writhing beneath the cloth. Under her, the man was half-dressed, his skin nearly as white as his shredded robes. His frantic, darting gaze collided with mine.
His lips peeled back over tightly clenched teeth and then moved, forming one word I didn’t hear but felt to my very bones.
Help.
A different kind of instinct took hold as I rushed forward. The woman moaned deeply as the man beneath her jerked, his eyes squeezing shut so tightly the skin puckered at the corners. The woman was so caught up in what I figured was feeding that she was utterly unaware of me.
Reaching the side of the mattress, I grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked with all my strength.
I caught a glimpse of the jagged puncture wounds in the man’s neck as I shoved the woman to the side.
Her head snapped in my direction, lips peeling back to reveal two bloody canines smaller than what I saw on the gods and Primals, but still sharp. She growled at me, and it once more reminded me of Andreia. This woman didn’t have two fangs on the bottom row of her teeth, though, nor did she look…well, as dead as Andreia had.
My gaze flew to hers. Good gods, her eyes were pitch-black, so dark I couldn’t see her pupils.
They weren’t like a god’s or a mortal’s.
She moved quickly, getting into a crouched position, her knees jutting out from the sides of her gown.
I had a sick feeling that both of them were Chosen, but she was what Gemma had spoken of: the Chosen who went missing and returned hungry.
Because this bitch looked like she was starving.
Her head tilted to the side as she sniffed the air. “You smell…”
I frowned at the raspy, throaty voice.
“You smell of Revenant and god,” she purred, moving fluidly, much like a pit viper. She moaned, and thick lashes fanned her cheeks. “And something else. Stronger.”
“Thanks?” I murmured, keeping an eye on her as I moved closer to the man. He wasn’t moving. “I think.”
A soft hissing sound came from her before she pressed her hands to the waist of her gown. “I’m so hungry.”
“Uh-huh.” Keeping the sword level, I bent and touched the man’s neck, feeling for a pulse. I found one. It was weak but there.
The woman angled her body toward me as she ran her palms up her chest. “You smell…”
“You already said that.”
“Like life,” she whispered, her lashes lifting. Pitch-black eyes faintly lit from within fixed on me.
“What the—？”
The woman leapt at me, full-on jumped like a large feline.