Sequel to the Easter Bunny (Valley of the Old Gods #2) Read Online Dalia Davies

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Valley of the Old Gods Series by Dalia Davies

Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)

Old gods play their games & mortals lose.
I made my bargain with the god of spring, but the Power only works in the mortal realm… it can’t protect me from summer’s cruel vengeance.
To prove my worth, I’ll play her games.
To keep my Easter Bunny, I’d sacrifice anything but the child I’ve yet to bear.
To save my life, Jack will make any deal he has to.
Sex is the old gods’ favourite currency. I only hope their price is one I can pay.




It’s All in the Wording

Dusk paints the sky over the Valley a golden hue and I twist the egg pendant at my throat. Pinpricks of energy tingle between my skin and the metal.

This is what I wanted…

The Power and the responsibility—the freedom—that goes along with it.

Maybe I’m greedy.

Who could have guessed I’d want more?

It’s been a long month since I returned to the tower, to this world I’m now caretaker of.

And somehow… even surrounded by people, loneliness aches in my bones.

The Valley is quiet tonight.

From the balcony atop my tower, the bright lights of the city—my city—twinkle along the Valley’s length, beckoning me toward the white spire in the distance.

Below, people run about their nightly tasks. Or maybe they sit in their homes surrounded by their families. Wherever they are, they whisper.

I’ve heard them call me a goddess.

An ascendant deity.

If any of them understood what the actual gods were like… they might not think it a compliment.

Then again, some of them already know it isn’t.

I shiver, and it’s not from the breeze fluttering across my shoulders. The days creep nearer to summer and the heat steadily climbs.

Thirty metres below, a trio of children beat on a broken air con unit.

It’s too old to be worth repairing, but with a flick of my wrist, I give it a few more days of life and can’t help but smile as three cheers erupt from below.

They rush inside, no doubt thinking mechanical brutality got their desired result.

“Are you going to fix the city’s problems one piece of faulty equipment at a time?”

The soft voice that comes from behind me is bright, a happy respite from the growing concerns piling at my feet.

Jamus had ruled the Valley with neglect and disdain. Cleaning up his messes—so far—was easy for the Power, less so for my peace of mind.

“If I could solve them all with a single wave of my hand, I’d gladly do it.”

Ari leans on the balcony railing beside me, her eyes on the same spire I can’t look away from for long.

But she doesn’t linger on the old gods. “Anything else you need me to do today, boss?”

Her unnaturally white-blonde hair seems perpetually windblown. Falling around her shoulders like a waterfall, it reminds me of spun gold in this light, reflecting the dying day. She’s the kind of beautiful that’s disarming. Maybe that’s why I didn’t ask too many questions the day she showed up at my door and offered to help.

“I don’t think so.” Forcing myself to turn away from the spire, I look her in the eyes. They’re a blue that’s too pale to be the colour she was born with.

Everything about her feels like it should be cold, but she’s not.

There are plenty of people in my Valley who’ve encountered their own gods. Most of them come out the other side with some change or another. And Ari hasn’t yet told me about her time in their realm.

It isn’t hard to guess that it didn’t end well.

“Spend enough time looking at that spire,” she says with a tired smile, “and someone’s bound to take offence.”

“Do they watch us that closely?”

She hums something that could be an agreement and nods. “And it’s always the ones you want to ignore you that will pay the most attention.”

Ari knows enough about the gods to be just a little bit scary… and I haven’t even scratched the surface of that knowledge.

“I’m not sure why they care.” They’re happy enough to leave us to our own devices.

“Depends on who you ask. All the gods need us… but Ester’s the only one who really likes mortals. And even that’s a stretch.”

It’s hard to believe any of the gods’ stories come from them needing us. I turn back to the Valley. “Most of the people down there spent years with Jamus as their only day to day example of what the gods think of them.”

That’s what I’m working against.

“Jamus came from the child of Ester and Heim… and his god-father is….” She grimaces and shakes the thought away, drawing me back inside. “Between you and me, Klaus is not someone I would trust with my least favourite scarf, let alone my life. That sort of thing trickles down through the mortal line.”

“Sins of the father.” I look back toward the spire and draw in a long breath. “Is the god of winter as bad as they say?”