Chapter Eight

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Chapter Eight

I didn't think it was possible, but I was quickly learning to hate Xiphrus more.

See, back in the old days when he wasn't a psychotic killer on the loose doing the bidding of his evil overlord, Xiphrus was bossy. Back then, I just hadn't noticed it. I didn't know shit back then. I was only days old, clueless, an awkward male dork, who needed his daddy to hold him by the hand and show him the world. At the time, I didn't mind it. He knew more, plain and simple, and he was happy to show it to me.

Unfortunately, I'd changed since then. Aside from the whole hate-my-creator complex, I'd had to learn how the world outside worked on my own. Xiphrus wasn't there to show me what a tavern was, what foods were poisonous, what realms were deadly, what other creatures lay beyond our own realm. He wasn't there to teach me how to socialize with everyone, he wasn't there to walk me through relationships, romantic or platonic. I had to learn that shit on my own and I had to learn it the hard way.

The first time I had sex with a female, she slapped me because I didn't let her orgasm, something no one had told me about. The first time I had sex with a male, he nearly broke me in half. The first time I got drunk, I puked all over a Viking warrior and challenged a god to a fist fight. So, I had to learn through trial and error. Ladies need lovin' too, and when they don't get it, they'll know how disappointing you are. Those of us in the penis department could learn a thing or two about being fucking gentle and romantic. And most importantly, when a god calls you a lightweight, take it in stride, challenge him to a round of pool, steal his gold, and get drunk with it.

So anyway, to sum it up, I had learned on my own how to be assertive, how to do what I want. I ran an entire species of reaper. I had to learn how to take charge and do things on my own.

However, in Xiphrus's flowery unicorn shit filled world, I was still the same pipsqueak that tailed him wherever he went and didn't know up from down.

"Are you sure," Xiphrus asked me as we stood outside the cave, looking through the blizzard of absolute white blowing by at tornado-like speeds, "Can you trust his word?" I rolled my eyes, reaching up to pinch the bridge of my nose before cutting him an irritated glare. Of course, the asshole just took it and stared back at me expectantly. I don't think he was coping well with the whole idea of my hating him. He seemed to think that there was some level of decency between us, when really I was spending the whole morning fantasizing about breaking his head open on the cave wall.

And it wasn't even the fact that he killed our family, fractured the others, chose an evil entity over everyone else, and betrayed everything he knew and loved.

It was the little things.

He decided to make us lunch. He went outside, managed to hunt down what looked like mutated squirrels, and actually tried to cut my meat up for me. How fucking old did he think I was? Oh, and it didn't stop there. Oh no. The guy also asked me to double check my cloak, make sure it was secured. He asked to make sure I wasn't cold. He also asked me to stomp my boots at the entrance of the cave to keep it clean.

It was a goddamn cave, you asswipe, not Trump Hotel!

But I digress. Now, he was just questioning my judgement.

"He was telling the truth," I repeated for the hundredth time, folding my arms over my chest as I stared out into the blizzard, "There was an enchanted door, or room rather, in that castle. Viviana wants her shadows out, and only certain ones in. It was heavily guarded, by the same shit she uses to keep the souls encased in the marble. Which, by the way, can't leave imprisoned in there. So once we get that room open, we're going after the souls." Xiphrus snapped his head to look at me, clearly alarmed.

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