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wars, stole weapons and even ships. You caused major fires and others disasters, which in turn led to mass panic and rioting among the humans, and hundreds of people being imprisoned.”
    Warmth suffused her face. Yes, she’d done those things. When she’d first come to earth, she hadn’t known how to control her rebellious nature. Gods had been able to protect themselves from it, humans hadn’t. Besides that, she’d been almost…feral from her years in prison. A simple comment from her—you aren’t going to let your brother talk to you like that, are you?—and bloody feuds erupted between clans. An appearance at court—perhaps laughing at the rulers and their policies—and loyal knights attempted to assassinate their king.
    As for the fires, well, something inside her had compelled her to “accidentally” drop torches and watch the flames dance. And the stealing…she’d been unable to fight the voice in her head that whispered, Take it. No one will know.
    Eventually she’d learned that if she fed her need for disorder with little things—petty theft, white lies and the occasional street fight—huge disasters could be averted.
    â€œI did my homework on you, too,” she said softly. “Did you not once destroy cities and kill innocents?”
    Now Reyes blushed.
    â€œYou are not the same man you used to be, just as I am not—” Before she’d completed the sentence, a sudden wind blustered around them, whistling and harsh. Anya blinked against it, confused for only a moment. “Damn it!” she spat, knowing what would come next.
    Sure enough, the warriors froze in place as time ceased to exist for them, a power greater than themselves taking hold of the world around them. Even Lucien, who’d been carefully watching her exchange with Reyes, turned to living stone.
    Hell, she did, too.
    Oh, no, no, no, she thought, and with the words, the invisible prison bars fell away from her like leaves from a winter tree. Nothing and no one could hold her prisoner. Not anymore. Her father had made sure of that.
    Anya walked to Lucien to try to free him—why, she didn’t know, after the things he’d said of her—but the wind ceased as suddenly as it had appeared. Her mouth dried, and her heart began an unsteady tango in her chest. Cronus, who had taken over the heavenly throne mere months ago, bringing new rules, new desires and new punishments, was about to arrive.
    He’d found her.
    Freaking great. As a bright blue light appeared in front of her, chasing away the darkness and humming with unimaginable power, she flashed away. With a sense of regret she had no business feeling, she left Lucien behind—taking the taste and memory of their kiss with her.

CHAPTER TWO
    A BLACK FOG HAD DESCENDED over Lucien, locking his mind on a single thought: Anya.
    He’d been in the middle of a conversation with her, trying to forget how perfectly she had fit against him, how razor-sharp his desire for her had been, and how, in the too-short minutes she’d been in his arms, he would have betrayed everyone he knew for a little more time with her.
    Never had a kiss affected him more. His demon had actually purred inside his head. Purred. Like a tamed housecat. Such a thing had never happened before, and he did not understand why it had tonight.
    Something must be wrong with him.
    Why else would saying Anya meant nothing, was nothing, have nearly killed him? But he’d had to say it. For her benefit, and for his own. Such need was dangerous. And to admit to it, lethal to his infamous control.
    Control. He would have snorted if he’d been capable of movement. Clearly he’d had no control with that woman.
    Why had she pretended to want him? Why had she kissed him as if she’d die without his tongue? Women simply did not crave him like that. Not anymore. He knew that better than anyone. Yet Anya had practically