The golden, faceless form of the God of Karma dissolved into a shower of harmless, glittering dust.
The last of its ancient, rigid law faded away, leaving the vast, grey heart of the Seal quiet and still. The prison was broken. The warden was gone.
Rhys stood in the center of the chamber, his body a vessel for a power that was both ancient and new.
He was the Son of Creation, the primordial God of Life, but he was also Rhys, the man who had walked a long and lonely path to reach this point. He had not just reclaimed his old self; he had forged a new one.
He looked at Emma. She was staring at him, her green eyes wide with an emotion he could not quite read. It was a mixture of awe, of fear, and of a deep, unwavering trust. He was no longer the simple, mysterious guard she had hired. He was a god. But he was still her partner.
