She held up a finger to silence me, her head tilting slightly—that distant look signaling a mental summons from the Olympian Council.
“You’re being called, Mother,” I said with mock courtesy. “Best not keep them waiting.”
Her frown deepened. “Hades has issued an ultimatum. Return you, or the siege does not end. Zeus has convened the eleven to decide.”
“How typical, that no one thinks to ask me,” I observed.
“Do not worry, daughter.” She turned, her gaze firm. “I hold a seat on the Council. I will not compromise again, as I did with that half-year arrangement. I’ll put my foot down on principle this time. He will never take you from me again.” A cold smile ghosted her lips. “I will enjoy watching him try and fail. His army cannot breach our wards. Let him exhaust himself against them.”
“You are right,” I said. “Hades cannot break the wards from the outside.” I let the pause linger with implication. “Unless he has help from within.”
Demeter snorted. “Who would ever help him? He is reviled here. Everyone in this city despises him.”
“Of course they do,” I said. “But while they despised him, they also delighted in watching me die again and again, each time more creatively than the last. Not a single being here offered me compassion. Only Apollo, perhaps. The rest found endless entertainment in my agony.”
“Some will answer for their pettiness,” Demeter said, her lips thinning. “But you must understand—our kind are not made for empathy. Such sentiments are weaknesses. They get you killed, or controlled.”
“Your kind,” I corrected, “crave only power and amusement bought with another’s pain.”
“Perhaps,” she conceded with a pained sigh. “But you are one of us, daughter.”
But I was no longer one of them. I’d never be again.
The clamor increased as Hades’s force upped their assault against the wards. We both turned toward the distant walls. The dead had piled up, climbing over each other. Demons hurled themselves at the barrier with enough strength to shake the foundations. Winged creatures dove from above, beating against the wards in a relentless, furious rhythm.
But the ward held.
My gaze found Hades again across the vast distance. His eyes had never left me, I realized. He’d been watching me the entire time.
His stare spoke of longing. Of pain. Of a loyalty that would outlast the stars.
My heart clenched painfully in my chest.
Did he think I still craved this empty life? That its riches and power might tempt me? That I could possibly choose this over him?
Still, he didn’t give up on me. Because to stop would be to lose me forever—to leave me trapped in an existence that would slowly kill everything real inside me.
Even from this tower of the gods, I could feel my mate’s agony and his undying love.
“In contrast to your kind,” I said, my gaze glued to my mate, “Hades and his people have been there for me. They would walk through an inferno for me. Kill for me.”
“Enough of your negativity,” Demeter snapped. “Your endless lamenting tires me. Look forward. Do not let this bitterness drag us down.”
I peeled off my gloves slowly, one finger at a time, and let them fall to the golden marble. Then I summoned a blade from my pocket realm, the hilt settling in my hand.
I drew it swiftly across the tips of my fingers. Quick, precise cuts. Blood welled immediately, dark red against my skin.
“What are you doing?” Mother gasped, horror in her voice as she reached for my hand.
I dismissed the dagger, and it vanished into mist.
I pressed my bleeding fingers together and began to weave. Blood magic intertwined with threads of fate, spinning patterns at a rapid speed.
“How about thisnegativity, Mother?”
Chapter
Thirty-Two
