Three Months Earlier

Pathetic.

Santui studied the young man who had entered the chamber alongside Si, one eyebrow raised. Moments ago he'd been waving that strange black weapon around; now he stood hunched against the wall, looking as though enemies were closing in from every side and he'd already surrendered without a fight.

Si remained at the stranger's side. One hand rested on his shoulder as she looked uncertainly between her companion, Santui, and his parents, as though she had no idea how this situation was supposed to unfold.

Movement caught Santui's eye.

His father rose to his feet, frowning at the unusual trio. "I demand an explanation. What is happening here? Who hides behind that veil?"

Si straightened her shoulders. "My name is Si, Daughter of the Capybara. I came here because I believed my Fated One would help me rescue my sisters, who are being held in the House of the Anaconda." Her voice trembled with anger. "Instead, Santui claims the gods have abandoned me—that I am a fallen daughter of the gods." She lifted her chin. "I assure you, that is not true."

His father slowly turned toward Santui. For a heartbeat, it felt as though Kanchi himself had descended from the heavens, fixing him with a gaze hot enough to burn flesh.Santui tried to hold his father's stare, but it felt suffocating. In the end, he lowered his eyes.

"Leave me alone with my son. It seems he has made decisions that were never his to make."

Si bowed her head. "Thank you, my lord."

Santui clenched his jaw. Could the humiliation have been any more complete? Silently, he watched everyone file out of the chamber. 

With a sharp gesture, his father ordered him off the throne and down onto his knees before him.

Rage flared through Santui's body, but he had no choice. A son of the gods still owed obedience to his father. He stepped down from the dais and knelt.

"What possessed you?" His father's words struck like lashes from a whip.

Santui pressed his lips together. Sometimes a son of the gods had to be ruthless. If anyone had taught him that lesson, it was the man now berating him. "What was I supposed to do?" he shot back. "Let her march off with all those soldiers?" He still stood by his decision, and his father was going to know it. 

Over the past few Transformations, more and more responsibility had been entrusted to him. That meant his father needed to start letting go. To trust him.

"You certainly shouldn't have declared her a fallen daughter of the gods! It is not your place to decide whether someone has offended the gods so deeply that they lose that status."

Santui snorted."And whose place is it? Yours?"

"The Great Condor judges us, just as the Great Capybara will judge her."

A humorless laugh escaped Santui. "Funny. I seem to remember it was your words that drove Ramún from the valley and made him an exile—not the Great Condor's."

His father's eyes narrowed. "Do not speak of Ramún."

Santui resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew guilt haunted his father. Ever since Ramún disappeared from their lives, the man's face had grown a little grayer each day. He barely slept anymore. His mother had stopped speaking altogether.

Santui found it infuriating. As direct descendants of the gods, they could not afford mistakes. They had to stand behind their decisions. Otherwise, how could anyone believe in them? There was enough whispering already. "Do you regret it?" he asked. "Sending him away?"

"I did what I had to do."

That's not how it should be. Anyone with divine blood should do what they wanted to do. And stand by it without apology.

His father could have accepted his son's relationship. Had he done so, the people would have had no choice but to follow his example. They were the ones who shaped this valley, who defined its laws.

Not that Santui mourned his brother's departure. Things suited him perfectly now. He was the eldest son. Once Kanchi had blessed him for twenty Marches, the Valley of the Condor would belong to him. Only three Marches remained. Hopefully, by then, the Muchika would have been driven back to whatever pit they'd crawled out of.

"I want you to apologize to her."

His father's stern voice dragged him back to the reason he was kneeling.

"For what?"

"For every word you said. Tell her it was never your intention to break off the proposed union. A large portion of our warriors come from the Valley of the Capybara. We cannot afford to turn them against us."

"They live here now," Santui argued. "Their loyalty belongs to us. We were the ones who offered them shelter."

"Loyalty runs deeper than you understand. Take back your words, Santui."

"You didn't see her!" Santui burst out. "Her face is mutilated! How am I supposed to look like a worthy son of the gods with that beside me?"

His father sighed. "It would show the people that your heart is greater than your pride. That you are not governed by something as trivial as outward appearance."

"Like you were when you cast out Ramún's lover—"

"Enough!" The word cracked through the chamber. "So long as you do not wear the ruler's headdress, you will do as I command. Otherwise, you will never wear it at all."

Santui balled his fists. "After everything I've done? After all the support I've given you?" He rose without waiting for permission. "I'm not some servant you can bark at whenever things don't go your way. I don't want to lose face—and neither do you." He stepped closer. "You've already lost one son. People still whisper about it. They call you heartless. They say that if you could cast aside your own child so easily, who knows what you'd do to common folk." He spread his hands. "But I'm the son who stayed. The one who lost his brother. The one who mourned openly. The one who walked among the people to earn their trust."

His father shook his head in contempt. "Mourned openly? You were the one who exposed your brother's affair to me."

A dark smile tugged at Santui's lips. Yes. But they don't know that. Thinking back to how easily he'd manipulated the crowd back then, he realized that was exactly what he needed to do now. "Perhaps you're right." He clasped his hands behind his back. "I still believe I deserve a companion as beautiful as Tutunaq." He paused thoughtfully. "But there's no need to rush the union, is there?" An idea slowly took shape. "We can postpone it until her sisters have been rescued. To make that happen, we'll need to choose our moment carefully."

His father studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Very well."

"I'll tell her I've reconsidered. That she remains my Fated One. That we'll bind ourselves once her sisters can stand witness to the ceremony." He smiled. "That is what she would want." And it'll give me plenty of time to get rid of her... without losing the loyalty of her people.

A satisfied smile spread across Santui's face when his father finally gave an approving nod.

Santui invited the daughter of the gods to walk with him through the gardens. The branches bowed beneath the weight of ripe fruit that would be harvested later that week. Once they disappeared beneath the first rows of trees, he offered her his arm. She hesitated only briefly before slipping her fingers around his upper arm.

He didn't speak right away. Instead, he strolled with her through the gardens in comfortable silence. Normally, he never picked fruit himself. That was what gardeners were for. Today, however, he plucked a ripe mango from its branch, polished it against his tunic, and split it in half with the gilded knife hanging from his belt.

Crossing elegant stone bridges over narrow irrigation channels, he guided her toward a great polished black boulder. He sat down, gently drawing her beside him. "I owe you an apology, Si." Lowering his gaze, he feigned shame. "I never should have called you a fallen daughter of the gods." He sighed. "I was... shocked by what you'd done to yourself."

He waited. For understanding. Perhaps a reassuring touch.

Instead... Nothing.

She simply peeled back part of the mango skin.

"You did it because you didn't want to become part of the Muchika ruler's harem, didn't you?"

He forced down the irritation her silence stirred inside him.

Still no response.

He studied her, silently cursing the veil that concealed every hint of expression. "Have you seen him? Is he truly a god?"

She gave a faint shrug. "He's every bit as cruel." Her fingers dug into the mango until the flesh bulged between them. Juice trickled over her hand and down her wrist. "He murdered my parents." Her voice remained eerily calm. "He drank their blood." She stared at the fruit in her hand. "As if he believed he could absorb their life force."

Life force...

Santui took a thoughtful bite of his mango. Was that how the man had become so powerful? By stealing the strength of every conquered valley? It was a surprisingly plausible explanation. The blood of the gods was never to be wasted. That had been the primary reason Ramún hadn't suffered the same fate as his lover.

Their blood contained power. Strength. Santui had never considered claiming that power for himself... Yet, he suddenly understood where the idea came from. And apparently it works. Perhaps he ought to investigate the possibility himself. If he intended to dispose of Si anyway... He might as well drink her blood first. He suppressed the sly grin threatening to spread across his face. Feigning sympathy, he rested a hand on her leg. A touch more intimate than propriety allowed, but he had amends to make. "I understand," he said softly. "I understand why you did it." Not really. He would never have carved up his own face. Still, there was no point saying that aloud. She had made her choice, and nothing in her voice suggested she regretted it. He could respect that. "My father wishes us to continue with the union. He understands my initial shock, but believes I shouldn't allow something like this to stand in the way." Santui smiled warmly. "And he's right. You're far more than a pretty face." He took her hand. It was rougher than he'd expected. "But only after we've rescued your sisters. They deserve to witness such a joyful day, don't they?"

Her eyes brightened. Even through the veil, he knew she was smiling. "We're going to the Valley of the Anaconda?"

He squeezed her hand. "Yes. As soon as we've devised a proper plan. We can't simply charge in. There are countless things we need to consider first." He leaned a little closer. "So tell me everything you know. Were you inside? What did it look like? How many guards were there?"

Si began to speak.

Santui listened with genuine attention. He had no intention of ever allowing her to reunite with her sisters. That didn't mean he had no interest in infiltrating that House of the Gods. To shatter his enemy's power. And perhaps... To find himself a new, beautiful daughter of the gods to bind himself to.

Maybe even two.