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.
“I am still a monster,” he said against my pulse.
“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.
For the first time in a thousand years, the Fallen God laughed. When he takes -Fallen god 2- - Gabrielle Sands
“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.”
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.
It was an awful sound. Broken. Beautiful. The sound of a ruin learning to stand again. He pulled me against his chest, and his
Outside, the other gods were gathering their armies. Inside, Valdís pressed his lips to my throat—not to break, but to breathe.
I threaded my fingers through his. His skin was cold. It had been cold since the day they carved out his grace and left him to rot in the void between worlds.
“To scream.”
Not with words—Valdís, the Fallen God of Ruin, never lied with words. He lied with silences. With the way his scarred fingers paused before touching my skin. With the way he said “run” like a prayer rather than a command.
“You left me my breath.”
“I do,” I lied back.
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.