When He Takes -fallen God 2- - Gabrielle Sands May 2026

“You should hate me,” he said. Not looking at me. Looking at the altar where they’d once bound him for a thousand years.

Instead, I watched him kneel among the ruins of the celestial court, his massive wings—once white, now the color of bruised storm clouds—folded tight against his back. The other gods had fled. The mortal army had scattered. Only the two of us remained in the great hall, surrounded by fallen pillars and the soft, terrible sound of ash drifting through broken windows. When he takes -Fallen god 2- - Gabrielle Sands

He finally turned. His eyes—one silver, one gold—held the weight of every god he’d devoured, every realm he’d unmade. But beneath that ancient hunger, something else flickered. Something that looked almost like fear. “You should hate me,” he said

“You left me my breath.”

The moment the chains fell from my wrists, I knew he was lying. Instead, I watched him kneel among the ruins

For the first time in a thousand years, the Fallen God laughed.

“I do,” I lied back.