A city of God's and Monsters

A City of Gods and Monsters I never thought I would say this, but perhaps the best kind of death is the one you die for the person you love. And I loved a god. Seraphine POV Rain drenched my hair as I sat on the cold stone outside the temple, watching the last worshippers disappear into the night. Their prayers were finished, their faith satisfied. Mine had long since died. I had nowhere to go. No home. No family. No friends. Nothing. Just me — an outcast carrying a bastard child inside her. The thought shattered me more each time it crossed my mind, splintering my heart into pieces too broken to mend. It was their fault. The gods. Everything was because of them. The gods are just, they said. The gods know what is best, they said. Liars. The scriptures lied. The gods were nothing more than cruel beings who toyed with mortal lives for entertainment. We were tools to them — pawns created to suffer at their command. I hated them. Hated them for abandoning me. Hated them for taking Tyrion away. Hated them for leaving me alone in a world that had never once shown me mercy. Without thinking, the words tore from my lips. “I, Seraphine Dester, former princess of Xera, curse every god who walks the heavens in pride. I curse the God of Fate most of all. May you never know happiness… and if you do, may loneliness devour it for eternity.” The moment the curse left my mouth, weakness slammed into me. I collapsed onto the wet ground, my breath uneven. I was mortal. There was no possible way a mere human could curse the gods. And yet the thunder that split the sky sounded almost like an answer. The earth trembled beneath me. The heavens cracked with violent light, and suddenly it felt as though the entire world stood on the edge of ruin while I knelt at its center. I tried to stand, but pain forced me back onto my knees. My heart pounded violently against my ribs. Maybe I was dying. But even then, a smile touched my lips at the thought of the gods suffering as I had suffered. Lightning exploded across the sky, blinding me completely. I should take the curse back, I thought. But I couldn’t. Why should I? If death came for me tonight, then so be it. I still had questions for Malik anyway. Then suddenly— Silence. The storm stopped as though the world itself had paused to breathe. A voice broke through the stillness. “Curses do not exist for gods.” The sound was ethereal, deep enough to settle into my bones instead of my ears. Fear crawled down my spine. “Wh-who are you?” I whispered. “I am called Azeriel by some,” the voice replied. “Others know me as Orion. But most remember me as the God of Fate.” My breath caught. “You may call me whichever name pleases you, Seraphine.” I slowly lifted my gaze— —and forgot how to breathe. He looked like something carved from divine imagination itself. Flawless skin. Silver eyes. Power radiating from every inch of him. And he was completely naked. My face burned instantly as I looked away. “Does my appearance disturb you?” Azeriel asked, genuine confusion crossing his perfect features. Appearance. Not nakedness. Appearance. “I…” My throat tightened. “No.” A soft grey tunic appeared around him a second later, though it did little to hide the hard lines of muscle beneath it. “How is this?” he asked. I cleared my throat quickly, forcing my thoughts elsewhere. “Who are you really?” “I already told you.” “I heard the name,” I snapped. “But how am I supposed to believe you’re truly a god? Gods do not simply fall from the sky.” “And mortals do not usually curse them.” There was something sharp beneath his calm voice now. “You heard me?” “I heard your pain.” The words struck harder than they should have. “Then you know why I cursed them.” “I do.” “Then why are you here?” I interrupted before he could continue. “If you truly are the God of Fate, what business could you possibly have with someone like me?” For the first time, something unreadable flickered across his face. “I do not fully know.” His gaze remained fixed on me. “I only know that I heard you. I felt your grief.” His voice lowered slightly. “And I wish to help you.” My chest tightened. “To find the father of your child,” he continued, “and prevent your child from being branded an infidel.” I stared at him in disbelief. “Why would a god care about mortal affairs?” Azeriel stepped closer. “I may weave fate, Seraphine… but even I remain bound to its threads.” His silver eyes darkened. “And yours refuses to stay still.” The air around us grew heavier. “So tell me, Seraphine Dester,” he said softly, extending a hand toward me, “will you accept the help of your god?” I swallowed hard. “Do I even have a choice?” A faint smile touched his lips. “Mortals cling so desperately to the illusion of choice.” He moved closer still, his presence overwhelming, impossible to escape. “You had a choice once, Seraphine Dester,” he murmured. “Right until the moment fate marked your child.” A chill swept through me. “Now,” he continued quietly, “you only have time.” His eyes locked onto mine. “And even that is running out.”