Having left Maeve with the griffin after another round of spellwork study—he’d carefully taken down the first layer of the spell now he was certain it wouldn’t cause immediate decay of the entire structure—and a lingering kiss that rendered her breathless for all the right reasons, Arawn took to the skies in the form of a huge eagle. He had some pondering to do.

Maeve’s theory was like the missing puzzle piece that had kept him from seeing the big picture, and he brooded over the fact he hadn’t come to that realization himself. He should have. There was no excuse for his lack of focus here, except, perhaps, that he’d been distracted by his consuming fascination with a certain witch with copper-colored lashes.

Now, though, with all the hints gathered and laid out on the table, he saw it clearly, knew there was only one of the other fallen who would play this sort of game. And that elusive scent, the faint trace of age-old magic he’d picked up and couldn’t quite place, made sense now. Put together—finally—with the correct memory of the one they belonged to, they pointed him to the most probable location of his long-lost peer.

Leaving the airspace over his dominion, he made for Mt. Hood.

The snow-covered peak of the dormant volcano rose above the surrounding lush green of the Oregon wilderness like a lone guardian of old. Circling over the mountain on air currents for a few moments, he banked, followed the pull of the magic he could trace now he knew on whom to focus. He spotted the figure on one of the upper slopes of the volcano.

He touched down in a measured landing yards away from his target, pulled on the pants and boots he’d easily carried in his eagle’s claws. The cold wouldn’t bite at him, his body generating enough heat he could take a stroll through wintry Alaska and not even shiver, but the boots in particular were handy on uneven terrain.

Gaze fixed on the figure standing on the snowy blanket over a jagged edge of the slope, he approached. “You always did like mountains.”

Eyes of thunder and lightning met his own as the male turned, a slow smile spreading on a face many would describe as hauntingly beautiful, in a broken way. “Hello, brother.”

“Velez.” He inclined his head.

“It is good to see you again.” Piercing intelligence in his regard, edged with a feral playfulness. “Though I must admit I had hoped you would decipher my gifts of greeting much sooner.”

Arawn put his hands in his pockets, sauntered around him, not acknowledging the taunt. “You still have a certain sense of…theatrics, it seems.”

A smirk on that face capable of mesmerizing mortals. “Staging is so much fun. You should try it.”

He didn’t ask why Velez hadn’t simply come to meet him, why he’d chosen to play and poke in a most gruesome, bloody way. They’d been close companions once, brothers born of the folding of time and space before the earth took shape, bonded as family…as much as gods could be. And long ago, before the fall, Arawn had shared in Velez’s antics, his own detached ruthlessness a barely sheathed blade.

A part of him still was, still understood the dynamics of games played by those with nearly unlimited power.

“I see,” Velez said, black hair lifting in the breeze, “you have done well for yourself. Quite the dominion you have built.”

Arawn acknowledged it with a nod. “What about you? Where have you been?”

“Here and there.” Flurries of snow swirled around him in a gust of wind. “Mainly what they call the Old World now. Russia for a long time. Europe. That is where I found most of my power.” Storm gray eyes met his. “The beasts are waking.”

“I know.”

A flash of excitement on his face. “Just think what the world will look like when they roam free again. When the ones who drove them into oblivion lose the last shreds of their power, and those they sought to protect will know the terror they have been shielded from.”

Arawn’s muscles locked even as a tingle of the same wild excitement ran through him. Yes, the beasts would be magnificent in their restored power, would be met with the awe they deserved. And he was looking forward to the moment the failing force of the Powers That Be would cripple completely, leaving the field wide open…

“You have felt it, too, have you not?” Velez’s expression was tight, his form vibrating with his magic. “The Powers That Be will not be much longer.”

“I suspect,” Arawn said, “their decline is directly proportional to our renewed rise and the waking of the beasts.”

“Yes,” Velez hissed. “Their reign is coming to an end. Our time is near.”

“Do you know of the others?”

Velez shook his head. “You are the only one I could find.”

Likely because they had been so close, brothers in magic at a time when the world was newly minted.

“I have often wondered,” Arawn said, “whether some of us did not survive the fall after all.”

Velez shrugged, a swift motion reminiscent of the lightning he could conjure. “There are those I would not mourn.”

Arawn smirked. “I know the feeling.”

“Brother,” Velez said after a moment, turning to him with a storm brewing in his eyes, “let us join forces. The time is ripe to wield our power, to reclaim what is our due. We have lived among the vermin for too long, hiding what we are. Now the beasts are waking, we can rule the world.”

If there was one thing that had carried Arawn through the ages, through centuries spent learning how to live without his magic, human and weak except for his inability to die, would regenerate even when they hacked off his limbs, it was the anticipation, the sheer determination, to reclaim the power he’d lost. He’d lusted for it until it became the obsession that drove him in times of darkest need, when he lay broken and bleeding from wounds no being should recover from.

Now it was a steady, thunderous beat of longing underneath his skin, the sense that he could reach out and grasp it fully. Joining in power with Velez would catalyze the last stages of reacquiring his magic. But—

“Vermin,” Arawn said with silken softness.

Velez made a dismissive hand gesture. “They truly are the worst infestation this world has ever seen. I thought them laughable before, when they were little more than a pet project of a deluded handful of us, but now they have swarmed over this place like a plague, I must say I will cheer when the beasts prey on them again.”

Arawn’s hands slowly curled to fists in the pockets of his pants. With deliberate nonchalance, he said, “You would allow the humans to be hunted.”

“Of course.” A disbelieving snort. “Do not tell me you have come to like them?”

“No. I have not.” He looked out over the expanse of wilderness, to the edges of his lands where a witch waited for him, an immortal beast inside her, and a gentle, mortal’s heart. “But I will not allow them to be dispensed with.” He met Velez’s eyes again. “Not in my dominion. Not on my orders.”

His erstwhile brother angled his head in a quintessential non-human way. “You have changed.”

“As much as I appreciate your offer,” Arawn said, “I will have to decline. My territory is my own. I will not share my power.”

“Maybe you should take some time to think about it.”

“No need. My decision stands.”

The air crackled around Velez. “You would push me away for the sake of humans?”

“No.” He held that storm-whipped gaze. “Not for humans.” For someone else who cared for them, her affection a flame in his heart. “I will not abide any cruelty dealt to them, and you will not be able to restrain your powers. Which is why I need you to leave, and stake your claim elsewhere.”

Cold winds gusted over the slope, rustling Velez’s dark hair. “I expected more of you.”

“And I do not live by your expectations.” He shrugged. “I bear you no ill will, as long as you respect my borders.”

Since Velez spelled trouble for humankind wherever he went, eliminating him to keep his promise to his witch even beyond the perimeter of his lands would be the wise choice. But…they were brothers, and for the sake of old times, he found himself incapable of striking him down.

Not to mention it wouldn’t be easy, would be a fight with the potential to devastate this corner of the world—and they were much too close to his territory to chance those consequences. Better to send Velez off and fortify his borders instead.

Velez narrowed his eyes, stared at him for a long moment before he shrugged again, inclined his head. “Let us part on good terms, then.”

He held out his arm, and Arawn grasped it in the greeting and farewell of warriors, his hand clasping Velez’s forearm while the other male did the same with him.

“Goodbye, brother.” Velez let go, and vanished with a roll of thunder, lightning splitting the sky.

Arawn stared at the spot where his erstwhile brother stood for a long time afterward, the mountain wind whipping around him.