I stiffened.
It didn’t take the mystical power of Fate to know this wasn’t headed in a good direction (heavy on the mystical because I had zero clue how to understand my powers, let alonewieldthem).
A rattling filled the air as my hair shifted—my snake darlings trembled—I shivered as the vibration traveled across my scalp and down my spine.
Alexis squeezed my hand with both of hers and my bones creaked. I tried not to show the pain on my face.
My creature heritage overpowered my Spartan genes: my stature was short and curvy, my bones weaker than other full-blooded Spartans. I wasn’t built for war. I was built to read.
Athena smiled. “For the safety of Sparta, the federation requires Medusa to attend ROU, Rhodes Olympian University, and obtain a mastery in Fate studies.”
The murmurs increased.
Wait.
That’s it?
My snakes relaxed.
It was perfect, since I had no money to my name and was homeless as of next week.
Disowned by the House of Artemis since birth—Gorgontraits were not acceptable, one snake would have been ignorable, three were unconscionable—I technically had no inheritance and nowhere to go. For the same reason I was rejected by Artemis, I had too much Spartan blood to be accepted into Gorgon culture.
Alexis acted like it was fine, but I knew the truth—I wasn’t welcome at the villa. Patro was vocal with his hatred.
This was my chance to make a plan.
“Could be way worse,” I said to Alexis. “I’ve always wanted to get a higher education, but as a Chthonic creature, there are limited options. This isreallygood. I can figure out everything I’ve been—”
“No,” Hades said calmly a few seats down.
Uh, what?
A fresh wave of murmuring filled the federation.
“It will not be safe for her, surrounded by Olympians,” Hades said louder. “Especially with … everything that’s happened.”
My spirits fell.
I’d somehow forgotten that I was Olympian enemy number one, and synonymous with the downfall of the great House of Zeus.
Years in prison really did numbers on a person’s reputation.
Maybe I’ll win them over with my natural charm?
Oh wait—I have none.
When I’d been put under an age stasis at twenty-one, I was known as the “talkative bookworm who sees things and everyone mostly ignores.” I woke up in a world whereThe Falcon Chronicleslabeled me a “violent, powerful, dishonorable snake-scum traitor in league with Titans.”
It would have been iconic, if I wasn’t too busy having panic attacks as memories of the guards rose up and—
Don’t think about them.
Don’t think about what they did to you.
During my lovely (hellacious) imprisonment, Gorgon relations had deteriorated, Titans had somehow mutated with wings, and war was brewing.
I leaned against Alexis, feeling unmoored. A calming, competent energy wafted off her, and, in her presence, it felt as if everything would work out. She respected me, listened to me, believed me. She valued what I could do.
