-fallen God 2- - Gabrielle Sands - When He Takes

“To speak.” I stepped closer, my bare feet pressing into cold marble stained with divine blood. “And I’m telling you now—you don’t get to fall alone.”

Outside, the other gods were gathering their armies. Inside, Valdís pressed his lips to my throat—not to break, but to breathe.

“If I take you again,” he warned, “I will not stop. I will not be gentle. I will devour every corner of your soul until nothing remains but the shape of my teeth.”

It was an awful sound. Broken. Beautiful. The sound of a ruin learning to stand again. When he takes -Fallen god 2- - Gabrielle Sands

He pulled me against his chest, and his wings closed around us like a tomb. Like a womb. Like the beginning of something that had no name yet.

Instead, I watched him kneel among the ruins of the celestial court, his massive wings—once white, now the color of bruised storm clouds—folded tight against his back. The other gods had fled. The mortal army had scattered. Only the two of us remained in the great hall, surrounded by fallen pillars and the soft, terrible sound of ash drifting through broken windows.

But the texts never mentioned this—the way his hand trembled when I reached for it. The way his divine fire banked low, afraid to burn me. The way he said my mortal name like it was the only prayer left in his hollow chest. “To speak

“Good,” I answered, and pulled him closer. “So am I.” Because some falls aren’t endings. They’re the first step toward something the gods never anticipated: A monster loved. And a monster who loves back.

“You left me my breath.”

I didn’t run.

“I do,” I lied back.

“To scream.”

“Then devour,” I whispered. “But you’d better leave room for me to devour you back.” “If I take you again,” he warned, “I will not stop

“I took everything from you,” he reminded me. His voice scraped the air like stone on stone. “Your kingdom. Your family. Your mortal name.”

He finally turned. His eyes—one silver, one gold—held the weight of every god he’d devoured, every realm he’d unmade. But beneath that ancient hunger, something else flickered. Something that looked almost like fear.