Chapter 38

38

SELENE

I stood in the doorway, my hand trembling from how it clutched the dagger’s hilt so tightly. Even my palm ached. Blood painted everything inside the room, and the horrible stench of rot clogged my nostrils. Nausea churned in my throat, and I turned away with my free hand pressed against my mouth.

My lungs heaved. I could hardly wrap my mind around what I’d just seen.

“Selene.” Ares was by my side within an instant, wrapping a strong and comforting arm around my shoulder. Despite the reason I’d come here looking for him, I leaned into his embrace. He felt steady and solid and warm. Just having him there softened my jagged edges.

Which was dangerous. I shouldn’t feel like this around him.

Slowly, I pulled away from him. He took my shoulders in his hands and searched my eyes, clearly concerned. “Are you all right?”

I huffed a laugh. “You’re asking me that? If I recall, you’re the one who actually fought him.” My eyes slid toward the mangled body on the floor, surrounded by a pool of blood. “Him, too.”

I couldn’t say I felt any sadness about Poseidon’s death. In fact, I was glad. One less monstrous king to deal with myself. He was just as bad as Zeus, if not worse. The wolf had done me a great favor. But…the whole thing still left me reeling.

“He seems dead,” Ares said uncertainly.

Ares wouldn’t know about the wolves and what they could do to vampires. And I’d have to be careful how much I revealed. If any of the Olympians even suspected where this creature had come from…

“He didn’t seem like a normal wolf, especially if he could do this,” I said. “Do you think it’s another punishment from Erebus?”

It wasn’t another punishment. This wasn’t my first time encountering a lycanthrope, created by Medea’s strange magic. My mother had known much more about them than I did, of course. Though she hadn’t been thrilled about their creation, she hadn’t stopped Medea, either. How one of them had ended up here? It seemed like an impossibility, but I’d seen him with my own two eyes.

The implications were…interesting, to say the least. Things were starting to make a bit more sense. Lycanthropes were not fond of vampires, and they were exceptionally strong. He had to be the one behind Hestia’s abduction. Since these creatures could transform back into their human forms during daylight hours, she never would have realized she’d been taken by one.

Which meant…none of the Olympians were plotting against each other, at least not to this extent. A lycanthrope had come here to cause chaos.

The sound of Ares’s voice cut through my thoughts. “If Erebus sent that beast as another punishment, then he has fully turned his back on us. And I just can’t see him doing that. There must be another explanation.”

I pressed my lips together, nodded.

With a heavy sigh, Ares frowned at Poseidon’s corpse, then glanced out the window where the beast had disappeared. “We need to tell the others what happened. Immediately. It was Poseidon’s night for the sacrifice, which means he’s no longer capable of completing his ceremony. Zeus will know what to do.”

The sooner we could get out of this room, the better, as far as I was concerned. But as we made our way through the silent corridors, dread crept through me. There was no saving Nekros now. With two monarchs dead, I had no doubt more death would soon follow, whether gifted by the lycanthrope, by Erebus, or by the monarchs themselves. If they believed they were doomed by their god, what would be left to stop them from trying to kill each other?

An unstable Hellas was fine by me, but Zeus was the most likely victor in that scenario. He had the biggest army. He was the oldest and the strongest. I felt the weight of the dagger at my thigh. Perhaps tonight would be the night I made my move.

As we approached the megaron doors, a heavy rain drummed the roof. Ares cast a troubled frown at the ceiling, but carried on without comment. He didn’t need to say it for me to know what he was thinking. As long as that rain continued, we couldn’t make the sacrifice, even if Poseidon was still alive. Erebus had trapped us inside this building.

“How’s your god of loyalty sounding now?” I murmured.

“Like a much better option.” Suddenly, he halted in the middle of the hall and pulled me toward him. Surprised, I flatted my hands on his chest, breath catching. “I’m sure the others will be thinking the same thing. And their devotion toward Erebus was the only thing stopping some of them from killing you.”

“I know,” I whispered. “I’m prepared for that.”

His eyes dipped to my waist. “Yes, apparently so. Was there a reason you came looking for me with weapons hidden beneath your skirt?”

I swallowed. There was, in fact, a reason. As I’d stood on my balcony, breathing in the fresh air and replaying the moments with Ares in my mind—the towel he’d set out for me, his tongue against my skin, and the way he’d saved me time and time again—I’d realized I had to tell him the truth about our fate. I kept falling into the trap of wanting him. It was impossible to resist when he kept looking at me that way— this way. The way he was looking now, as if he could devour me and never tire of it.

Because gods, I wanted that, too.

“There’s something I need to tell you.” And before he could respond, I launched into it. “The Fates came to Troy when I was young, and Atropos was the one who spoke to me. She said you would try to kill me three times. Twice, you would fail. And then the third time, only one of us would make it out alive. She didn’t specify which one of us that was.”

Ares dropped my arm. Shock dissolved the want in his face.

I gave him a pained smile, hating that I’d broken the spell between us, even if it had been the right thing to do.

“And so you see, you were more right about us than you could have possibly known,” I said. “We are enemies, Ares. Fated to be enemies until one of us dies. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I turned away from him and resumed my march toward the megaron. I couldn’t bear to look at him any longer, burdened by the ache in my chest. This shouldn’t be so hard. It was Ares , for fuck’s sake.

But something had grown between us, and I couldn’t deny it anymore.

I couldn’t deny the truth anymore.

Ares didn’t stop me from walking away from him, and I reached the megaron only moments later. Inside, everyone was already gathered. Zeus sat at the head of the table, a furious expression on his face. When I walked inside, he barely reacted.

“We have a problem,” he barked at no one in particular. “It’s raining again. How are we going to perform the sacrifice, and where the fuck is Poseidon?”

I grimaced. I was the last person who should tell Zeus about Poseidon. Thankfully, Ares saved me from that fate.

He strode in behind me. Still covered in blood, he reeked of the beast’s deadly rot—and of Poseidon. As soon as everyone saw him, they launched to their feet. A hundred questions peppered the air, and I could tell by the way their nostrils flared that they’d scented exactly whose blood he wore. Their voices poured on top of each other, louder and louder until the room thundered with their shouted words. Only Athena remained silent, though she moved to fetch her broadsword.

Zeus pounded his fist against the table. “Quiet!”

No one listened. The shouts continued, bouncing against each other.

And then the song of steel echoed through the vaulted room. Everyone fell silent as we all turned toward Athena. She was dragging her sword behind her, her lips curled back into a snarl. Right toward Ares and me. When she reached us, she hauled her sword onto her shoulder and took a long, deep sniff.

“You reek,” she said. “Tell us what happened.”

I cast what I hoped was an imperceptible glance at Zeus. The glare he gave Athena could have toppled an entire kingdom. The monarchs had listened to her while ignoring him. It was the biggest statement she could have made. She was done pretending like she didn’t command far more respect from the monarchs than he did.

Ares solemnly filled everyone in on what had happened to Poseidon. A sea of stunned faces looked back at us. If I hadn’t seen it myself, or known about the lycanthropes’ existence beforehand, I might have struggled to believe Ares’s story, too.

Athena remained where she was, her expression hard. “I think we all know what we must do. We have to find and kill that beast.”

“A bit difficult when the rain is keeping us trapped inside,” Hephaestus muttered, leaning on his cane with a weariness I felt within my bones.

“That won’t last forever.” Athena turned toward Achilles, who hovered beside the doors. “Fetch the wood from the tunnels. We’ll secure all the windows. If the beast wants to come for us again, he’ll be forced to come through the front, where we’ll be ready for him.” Then she shifted her attention to Zeus. “Gather the guards. We’ll have them take turns watching the front in groups of six, rotating every few hours. The rest of us will wait it out in the megaron. If the beast comes in, we fight.”

“Now Athena—” Zeus started.

She held up a hand. “I’m not questioning your authority, but I’ve faced invaders of my own, and this is what we must do. If they want to fight us, they have one option. And that option ensures our win.”

Zeus scowled. He clearly didn’t like Athena taking authority by the horn, but he couldn’t object. It was a good plan.

“What if the beast realizes what we’re doing and avoids the front?” Ares asked.

Athena hauled the sword off her shoulder and slammed the pointed tip into the marble floor. “Once the rain stops, we go and find him.”

E veryone got to work after that. Achilles and several servants came and went with planks of wood. Soon enough the pile was too tall for me to see over the top of it. Each of us was to take as much as we could carry and secure the windows in our rooms.

On my way, I considered my options. The lycanthropes weren’t tame, even if they’d once been human. And when they were in their human forms, they were just like anyone else. Logical, reasonable, kind. But in their wolf form, they were feral. They lost all sense of themselves, driven by bloodlust.

They were a lot like vampires who never learned control.

But if I could somehow find him and talk to him while he was in his human form, I might be able to reason with him. Or even discover why he was doing this. Since I’d been on this island, I’d found that not all the monarchs were like Zeus. Some of them were decent people who didn’t deserve to die.

When I rounded the corner, I spotted Orpheus pacing outside my door, wringing his hands. He jerked toward me at the sound of my footsteps. There was something strange in his expression, but before I could decipher it, it was gone.

“I was told to help you patch up your window,” he told me.

“Did they tell you why?”

Arms laden with wood, I pushed open the door to my rooms, then held it open with my boot. As soon as Orpheus scurried in behind me, I let it shut. The click was ominous, resolute.

“There was mention of a wolf, yes,” he said quietly.

I continued into the bedroom and dropped the planks near the balcony. Then I sighed. “Can you explain how a lycanthrope is on the Isle of Aiaia for Nekros.”

A statement, not a question. Orpheus was no stranger to Medea. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear he’d smuggled one of her creations onto our ship. How else had one gotten here?

“Your Majesty,” he began, clearing his throat. “I need you to believe that I did not do this.”

I shot him a dark look. “You avoided answering my question. Can you explain to me how he’s here?”

“I’m actually not sure I can, Your Majesty,” came the mumbled words.

His eyes were downcast, but I tucked my finger beneath his chin and forced him to meet my eyes. “Can’t? Or won’t? ”

He swallowed, his neck bobbing against my finger. “I can’t. Medea must have sent him, but I was not involved. I swear it upon your mother’s grave.”

Hissing, I stepped back. “Don’t you dare swear upon her death unless you really bloody mean it, Orpheus. You are my closest friend and my dearest advisor, but I could never stand back and let you tarnish her name like that.”

“I know,” he said, his voice wobbling. “But it wasn’t me, Your Majesty. I didn’t do this, I swear it.”

I sighed. Closed my eyes. Tried to conjure a sense of calm. I had to believe Orpheus wouldn’t lie to me about something so monumental, and I hated feeling at odds with him.

“All right,” I said, opening my eyes. “Do you think he’s one of Medea’s?”

He pursed his lips, then nodded. “Yes. I have no doubt about that.”

We got to work on the window, only the steady thrum of rain to break the silence. Soon enough the boards covered the window, blocking the view of the rain-soaked night. It had not let up since it had started. If anything, the hammering against the roof was louder than ever.

“Right, Orpheus. This is what we’re going to do,” I told him, examining our handiwork. “I want you to find Dymas, and—”

Orpheus grabbed my arm. His cheeks had turned a mottled shade of red. It was the most color I’d seen in his face in years. “Your Majesty, you cannot speak the sacrifice’s name here.”

Slowly, I pulled his fingers away from my arm. “You will find Dymas. Bring him and the other sacrifices to this room. I’ve invoked the threshold curse, so none of the vampires will be able to get inside. They’ll be safe here.”

His fearful eyes widened. “You don’t know what you’re asking me to do.”

“I know exactly what I’m asking, and I know it goes against your every instinct. I need you to do it anyway. This is an order from your High Queen.”

Orpheus shuddered. Briefly, I felt guilty about forcing him to do this. If the Olympians caught him, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. There’d be no trials for a traitorous advisor. No chances to prove himself. They’d just rip his heart out, over and over, letting him heal, then die, then heal again—until ending it all with a vicious stake.

But I needed him to do this. It was time to make things right. That started with getting the mortals somewhere safe.

To my surprise, Orpheus knelt before me, took my hand in his, and kissed my knuckles. “Your Majesty, I would do anything you ask of me. I hope you know that. My hesitation was out of fear for you, that’s all. There’s twelve of them and only one of you.”

I smiled down at him. “Only ten now, Orpheus. And I don’t think all of them are as against me as you might believe.”

A beat passed, then he said, “You truly mean this, don’t you? You’re making a move against the Olympians, and you’re breaking what’s left of Nekros.”

“I told you I was going to do things my way, and I meant it.”