"You here to kick Darian's ass again?" Damian asked with an easy smile. She reddened and shook her head.

"This little thing beat you up?" the man with the chiseled features asked.

"And Jule," Darian pointed out. "She shot him and ran him over."

"It was a misunderstanding," she managed, her face hot.

"Jule kicks my ass every time we spar. I'm okay with you running him over," the man with the cool blue eyes said.

"I was human at the time," Jule responded. "Yully, you've met Damian and Darian. This charmer is my brother, Dusty, Bianca's mate. Bianca's sweet and cute, and Dusty's ... Dusty."

"Everyone likes Bianca," Darian added. "She doesn't tell people what to do."

Dusty eyed the wiry man coolly, and Damian chuckled.

"This is Toni, one of Dusty's Guardians. And this ... thing-- " Damian indicated the man with red eyes "-- is Charles. He's one of the Black God's men, an exchange student, here for a few weeks." The exchange student was growling at her.

The positive energy around the four men was contagious, and she found herself drawing it in. Unlike the cold rain of her father's energy, theirs was warm and cheerful, like her bond to Jule.

"Do you always glow?" Darian asked curiously.

"No, sorry." She pushed their energies away self-consciously at the sudden silence and sets of eyes gazing at her.

"You're probably tired today, but when you're ready, you're welcome to spar with us," Dusty offered. "Jule says you can fight pretty well."

"It's good stress relief," she replied.

"I need your man for a few minutes," Damian said. "You're welcome to stay."

"We can spar," Darian said. "I have my honor to regain."

Yully smiled and shook her head again. "I think I'll go see Bianca's horse," she said, more interested in the animal than being under the intent scrutiny of the Guardians.

"I'll catch up with you," Jule promised. He kissed her forehead and released her.

Yully left the gym, feeling as if she'd entered a new world. She drew a deep breath, stilling her nerves, and crossed to the paddock. Bianca was gone, and the horse dozed next to the fence. Curious about the great animal, Yully approached the fence. The horse's eyes opened, and it lifted its muzzle over the top of the railing. She rubbed its forehead and leaned forward to touch its neck, marveling at how soft its hair was. Absorbed by the horse, she didn't feel the hair on the back of her neck rise.

"Found you."

She turned to face the small man and gasped. He looked like her father, only his eyes glowed green where her father's had been purple. She took a step back, uncertain what the man was but aware her instincts were at a scream.

"The Other had you hidden well," the man said. "This is the first time I've been able to find you."

"Got him." The low growl drew her attention behind her, where the red-eyed man materialized beside Damian. She pressed her back to the railing.

"It'll be the last, Watcher." The White God's golden eyes were liquid and swirling as his mate's had. His power sizzled around him.

"She is too powerful for this realm, Damian," the green-eyed man said.

"Bullshit. You want to use her as you have the rest of us," Damian said. He stepped forward and motioned her behind him. "You can have her over my dead body."

"And mine," Jule said and materialized with two others. He held out his hand, and Yully went to him.

"And mine," Dusty said.

"Mine, too," Darian echoed.

Yully listened, breathless, to the strangers who vowed to protect her from a threat similar to her father. After a lifetime of rejection, she'd found a home with the very people her father warned her against.

"This has been a long time coming, Watcher, but don't come back," Damian said.

"And if you come near my mate again, I will show no mercy," Jule added in a quiet tone that promised action. The Watcher frowned, his gaze going from Damian to Jule.

"So be it," he said at last. "If this is the path you choose, we will not assist you when the Others come. We will look upon you as enemies." He disappeared in a wink of light.

Yully's heart soared higher than she thought was possible. She looked up at Jule, whose features were grim. A couple of them were talking quietly, but she didn't hear them, instead unable to fathom that anyone would find her life worth protecting after her father hadn't. Jule squeezed her hand.

Near tears, Yully tugged away from him and ran into the house. She navigated her way to her room before she started crying. She hadn't cried in years, unless it was out of pain from a particularly bad beating. The tears spilled fast and hot, but they weren't tears of anger or sorrow.

Jule excused himself quickly from his brothers and trotted after her. He felt her distress through their bond and suspected the Watcher upset her.

"You don't have to worry, kiri," he said, pushing the door to her room open. He sat beside her on the bed and wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm not," she managed. "I'm happy."

"You don't look happy." He laughed. "You look like Charles with those red eyes."

To his surprise, she pulled away from him and smiled, a brilliant sight that made her eyes sparkle and face glow. Yully wiped her tears and flung her arms around his neck, fluttering hundreds of kisses across his face.

"I have a home," she whispered. "You really are mine. He can't hurt us this time."

"For as long as you want me." He closed his eyes, enjoying her affection and her emotion.

"I know. I think I've always known," she said and rested her forehead against his. "I think I've loved you since I stole your soul."

"You stole my heart, too, kiri," he added. "I've never met anyone as sweet as you. Nothing bad will ever happen to you again, Yully, I swear this to you."

"I trust you, Jule."

Jule cupped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her deeply. Yully opened herself to him, and he shivered as their souls, then their bodies, met once again.

The Grey God.

Book IV.

Prologue: The Schism.

Day of the Schism.

Immortal World.

White God's Hall.

The White God, Darian, strode through his marble halls, the soft footfalls of his leather boots the only sound in the imperial corridor. He trotted down the stairs from his palace to the apple orchard that stretched from his home to the imperial city beyond. The sun peered over the ocean to the north while blooming apple trees sprinkled their flowers into piles in a cool sea breeze. His closest friend and advisor, the Original Immortal Jule, waited for him atop a horse.

"Late," Jule said, a smile on his dark features. The colorful tattoos on his body told stories of great battles in artful, geometric writing.

"A god is never late," Darian replied. He pulled himself up onto the horse beside his friend's. His personal Guardians trailed at a respectful distance, out of earshot but close enough if something happened. "One day, you'll understand."

"The lure of a woman?"

"The lure of the perfect woman. Sensual, sweet, beautiful."

"A king needs a warrior, not a doll," Jule teased.

"Not this king. And she can fight, the perfect minx."

"If you say so. I've yet to meet one who could have me mewling at her feet the way you mewl at Claire's."

Darian smiled. The entire imperial city knew how taken he was with his mate. The eldest of any of the White Gods to mate, he'd been lauded with celebrations for days upon the announcement that he'd chosen a bride. He was glad he'd waited for the right partner rather than ceding to his advisors' desire for him to mate just to produce an heir.

"Her father, though, I wouldn't trust as far as the beach is from here," Jule added. "Still shady."

"I keep him occupied with assignments I tell him are important," Darian said with a snort.

They reached the beach, and Darian saw his young brother wielding a sword in complex weapons forms.

"He wants to be like his older brother," Jule said, amused. "How old is he now? Sixteen?"

"Seventeen."

"And you haven't mated him off to some powerful House?"

"He hasn't the temper for a woman yet. He'll be a warrior, methinks," Darian said. "Probably a solitary warrior."

Jule chuckled, as aware of the youth's temper as Darian was.

"Looks good, little brother," Darian called as they approached.

The tall, stringy youth with white-blond hair turned to face them. His face split into a large smile, and he waved the sword in the air.

"You're out early," Darian said. "Another duel?"

"Indeed. I have matters to settle with a certain merchant's son," his brother said.

"How would you like to join my Guardians?" Darian asked.

"I'm not some lower born peasant."

"You're not. But you need something to keep you from challenging every merchant's son who insults your boots."

"He insulted my cloak!" the youth shot back. "You would put me in the Guardians, your own flesh and blood?"

"If it kept your hands off the women in court and the merchants' sons out of the Healer's ward, yes," Darian replied.

His young brother's face fell. "Father would not have done such a thing."

"Wrong, ikir. Your father would've put you in the Guardians long ago," Jule corrected him.

"You'd get to see the mortal world at last," Darian baited. "You've wanted to go since you were as tall as your sword."

"I guess. What would I do, Darian? I have the power that runs in our blood, but I don't have any of the natural skills the peasants have. Would they even want me among them?"

"Claire was one of them," Darian reminded him. "She speaks highly of the Guardians and just as highly of you. You would fit in very well."

"You're a great warrior, Damian," Jule added.

"According to the servants, Claire likes warriors," Damian said.

"Hold it, boy," Darian warned. "You know the rules. The most sacred vow a White God takes is to his family."

"I know. She's my family now, too," Damian said and rolled his eyes. "I liked it better when it was just us, Darian. Yesterday was the first day we've spent together since you mated with her months ago."

The White God heard the note of sadness. Darian dismounted and pulled out his sword.

"Our hunting trip was the first time in months, wasn't it?" He'd grudgingly gone on the hunting trip, not wanting to leave Claire behind by herself. She'd never been alone in the palace. "We used to spar every day, until a few months ago, when I took a mate."

"We haven't sparred since."

"Maybe we should start the tradition again."

"I'd like that, Darian," Damian said quietly. "You ignore everyone at court now. They say the Oracle put a spell on you."

"Since when do you care what they say?" Darian asked. He raised his sword and batted his brother's around as they spoke.

"Since I've had no one else to talk to. And, since you said you weren't sure you could trust her, Darian. You're my only real family."

Darian said nothing, unaware of how much his brother missed him until this moment. The youth was not too far off: Claire had been all Darian wanted to focus on since he'd met her. Their betrothal was short by White God standards, a matter of six days. His own father hadn't mated with his mother for ten years, until after Darian's birth. He'd mated with Claire five months ago. It dawned on him he really hadn't seen much of Damian at all since the ceremony.