With a swift move, I inched it toward his throat, intending to cut it open. I knew a god couldn’t die, but perhaps it would immobilize him enough to give me a chance to escape.
I lunged, but he caught my hand, his smirk widening as he brought the blade to his neck, the sound of the slice echoingin the tense silence. He didn’t flinch. His smile didn’t tremble. Within two seconds, the torn skin knitted itself together.
Two seconds. That was how long it took for a major injury to heal.
“Feisty little thing, aren’t you? Your attempts to harm me are futile, mortal. Let this serve as a lesson for you.” Zeus stood up, taking the dagger with him, eyes pointed at the weapon. “This belongs to me. Clever of the person who gave this to you—they provided you with a means of self-defense, but not one that could be traced to them.” He threw the knife away, and the metal clanked on the floor. His eyes glistened with primal satisfaction when he took note of my rounded gaze. I swore he could feel the shiver travel down my spine.
“Who wishes for my demise?” Leg in the stomach. “Who enlisted you in this undertaking?” Hair pull. “Who?” Punch in the gut. “I am able to continue indefinitely, but I am certain you are not.” Punch in the face.
My teeth sank into my lip, the sting of my wound mixing with the blood of his blows. He was waiting for a reaction from me. My vision swam. Zeus watched, a predatory gleam in his eyes, anticipating a flinch, a gasp, a surrender. He wished to see me break. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
I bit down harder. My jaw ached, my head throbbed, my stomach curled, but I held his gaze between the weary blinks.
“Very well.” He nodded, wiping his hands with a kerchief that appeared in his hands. His movement was almost ordinary, as if he was simply brushing off some dirt. “If physical torture cannot coerce you to speak, it’s possible that something else will suffice.”
My muscles tensed as I pushed onto my palms, the rough ground scraping my hands as I dragged myself away, desperate to find a wall to lean against. It was the only sliver of time since Zeus veyrithed us here that I had to analyze my surroundings.
In the large concrete room, my shallow breaths echoed in the otherwise silent space. Across from me, furniture lay still under white sheets, dust motes dancing in the dim light.
Two couches. One window. Three chairs. One wardrobe.
Nothing around me gave insight into where I was. Nothing was helpful. Were we still in Elythra?
The bond pulled at my chest and mind, as if someone fought to get in, but the second I blinked the sensation disappeared. I had no choice but to wonder if it was just a figment of my imagination.
As a daze washed over me, my head lolled from side to side and my chin sank to my chest.
“What was the reason for your tardiness?” Zeus’s voice snapped me back awake.
“Pardon me, my King.” The woman bowed so low her nose almost touched the ground. She adjusted the mantle to fit more snugly, her hands clasped under the material of the sleeves.
Zeus extended his hand. “Proceed.”
My eyes fluttered, trying to focus on her face as she approached. She kneeled, lowering her hood. Her human features, though pale, were at odds with her mirror-like eyes—so polished I could see my reflection in them.
My hair was a mess. My lips split open with dried blood in the corners. I winced at the sight of the wound on the crown of my head and at the redness across my skin.
“I am an emissary of the Oracle,” she stated, the weight of the pronouncement settling upon the room.
Emissary of the Oracle. Her presence was a danger to Eros. To Artemis. To Hades and Athena. My jaw clenched. She had the power to compel me to tell the truth against my will, and I, no doubt, knew that if Zeus found out who was behind the plot against him, he’d take considerable measures—whether that meant finding a way to kill them or destroying their magic.
The woman squinted at me. I squinted back.
“Do not attempt to resist, if anything?—”
“Cease the introductions.”
“Yes, my King.” She nodded her head, pursing her lips. Her eyes locked onto mine in a flash, too quick for me to even shut my own.
My limbs locked as if a string had wrapped around them, preventing me from moving. Even my eyes remained unblinking, unmoving.
“You may ask your questions, my King.”
“Who wishes for my demise?”
“I do.”
The emissary nodded at the king of them all, confirming my answer was truthful.
