The Ruin of Gods – Chronicles of the Stone Veil Read Online Sawyer Bennett

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Drama, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Suspense Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)

A demigod ready to commit for eternity. A god who isn’t ready to commit at all. An unseen danger that may kill them both.
For centuries, I’ve traveled the realms, fighting wars, providing peace, causing havoc and everything in between. I’ve also sown my wild oats across those realms, taking pleasure when and where it’s offered. It’s a work hard, play harder lifestyle but I’m just the demigod to do it.

Zora is the god of Life but before that she was a mortal held captive, growing up without love or affection. Raised in the pits of Hell, she was a pawn in a sinister plan to destroy the world. Tossed into the life of an immortal deity, Zora is understandably closed off and confused about who she is and where she fits in. But the one place she fits perfectly is in my bed and the more time I spend with her, the more I’d like to keep her there permanently.

My attempts to win over the ethereal beauty are thwarted when a nefarious plan begins to unfold, leaving Zora missing and me scrambling to solve a mystery no one saw coming. As an immortal, time is of little importance but becomes a precious commodity where saving Zora is concerned.

I’ve lived centuries never knowing true love, but I know one thing with absolute certainty—Zora is what I need to complete my eternal life. Now I need to make sure she lives long enough to realize the same about me.

The Ruin of Gods is a standalone romantic fantasy novel about learning to love—both ourselves and another—within The Chronicles of the Stone Veil series.

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As the god of Life, and therefore Death, it’s not out of the ordinary for me to travel to the Underworld. It’s the domain where all souls are judged and those worthy are given my gift of reincarnation. Thus, I belong here as much as I do anywhere.

It’s just… when I appear on the Bridge of Judgment, I feel like a stranger despite the fact I was raised here for the first twenty-eight years of my life. It’s empty right now, all souls for the day apparently having been adjudicated.

To my left is the city of Otaxis, made beautiful by magical tweaks from the current king of the Underworld, Amell. The buildings are whitewashed, the streets clean and lit with glowing lanterns, and overhead a midnight sky full to bursting with sparkling stars. Under the bridge flows the Crimson River—red, orange, and yellow swirling—and directly ahead of me is the obsidian castle that rises so high I can’t quite see the top.

I should leave, but I’m restless and I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m an introvert—loner by nature—yet here I am, feeling the need for connection.

I chose to come to Amell rather than my sister, Finley, because I’ve known him longer. While Finley is my identical twin, I’ve only known her for a year.

I’ve known Amell for close to twenty-nine.

Really, since the day I was born.

It doesn’t mean that Amell is more trusted than Finley. In fact, he was instrumental in the plot to hold me captive in the Underworld to help Kymaris, then queen of the Underworld, breach the veil that separated her world from the mortal one so she could wreak havoc and subjugate.

And yet… he’s my friend.

It’s completely dysfunctional, but I’ve learned over this last year that the world is dysfunctional.

No, really… the entirety of the universe is batshit crazy.

I tug on the long braid hanging over my left shoulder, a nervous habit indeed. My curly hair is snow white, hypothesized to be this color from the terrible magics I absorbed for years and years. Finley’s is fiery red, and I suppose mine would be the same had I not been stolen at birth and brought to Hell.

Dropping the braid, I chastise myself. “You can’t be nervous. You’re the freaking god of Life and Death. You’re one of five gods who rule the universe, and every being in this realm could be reduced to ash if you merely wished it so.”

Temporarily buoyed by my personal pep talk, I walk across the bridge and into the castle where Amell resides with his bride, Nyssa.

The minute I enter through the double doors that stand two stories high, I realize I have no idea where to go. I normally materialize right into Amell’s rooms, but with him being newly married, I don’t want to be intrusive.

A bustle of creatures moves about the great hall. Numerous Dark Fae, those fallen angels who God expelled from heaven for their treasonous plans to overthrow him, and daemons—the offspring of Light and Dark Fae mating. Not as populous, but still, many choose to live here. There are even some humans in servitude, having volunteered their time in exchange for something they needed, or having been sacrificed.

“Excuse me,” I say to a woman in brown burlap passing by with a tray of empty wooden cups.

She turns my way, needing no more than half a second to recognize me for the deity I am, and shrieks. The tray falls with a loud clatter, cups rolling askew, and the woman drops to her knees, going prostrate before me. That attracts the attention of everyone in the hall, and in a massive wave, everyone follows suit.

Down to their knees, arms stretched before them, and noses pressed to the floor so as not to gaze upon me.

It’s utterly ridiculous, as I don’t require such acknowledgment, although I’m guessing my predecessor did.

“Stand up,” I snap irritably, and without meaning to, my voice booms through the hall as if speakers surround us. I learned about the miracle of surround sound from Finley’s husband, Carrick, and he helped me outfit my own home entertainment system with it.

Everyone scrambles to their feet, but the poor woman before me looks like she’s about to pass out.

I glance around, trying to find someone who appears brave enough to look me in the eye, and I’m lucky when a Dark Fae walks my way. He doesn’t cower or lower his gaze, and in fact looks supremely confident as he approaches.

He’s beautiful in an evil, Underworld sort of way. Bluish-tinted skin bulging with muscles, silver hair, and shimmering azure eyes that look like faceted jewels. I know him well—he’s Amell’s best friend.

“Truett,” I say with an incline of my head. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you as well,” he says, bending at the waist. “If you’re looking for Amell, he’s not here.”