“The Duchess is with Zeus,” Archan states, sipping the champagne.
Poseidon leans forward and flicks his eyes at my wrist again. “That’s who cursed you?”
“How did you know?” I ask.
“The Duchess is an insane bitch, brutal when needed and elegant when the mood takes her. She’s dangerous because she’s unpredictable. Zeus, on the other hand, is formulaic—where possible, he gets others to do his dirty work whilst lording over the successes. If he does lower himself to fight his own battles, he’s rather brutish. That said, you are somewhat protected whilst you are a goddess.”
My gaze lands on Archan. His features are tense, and his jaw ticks. “Do you know how to remove the curse?” he asks.
Poseidon holds his hand towards me. I lay my wrist in his palm as he studies the mark. “It’s an altered curse, not the original.”
“I have Nathan working on it,” Archan states.
“Then you have the best man on the job, but I fear the only person able to remove the curse is the one who planted it. Why do you think she placed it on Pandora?”
“Natia,” I correct. “I go by Natia.”
Poseidon grins. “Of course, Natia.” He rolls my name on his tongue like he’s committing it to memory.
“I believe Zeus wants to murder Natia in order to weaken me,” Archan states. Fury burns like a tangible entity around him. “He’s recognized the only flaw in my armor and seeks to exploit it.”
“Hmm,” Poseidon says, dropping my wrist. “He risks enraging you, which is the more likely outcome. Is there anything else?”
I glance at Archan and bite my lip.“You can trust him.”Archan communicates in my mind.
“The Duchess has a vial of my blood,” I say.
“How did that happen?”
“Before I died, I made a deal with Lysa. A vial of my blood for a vial of the poison I needed to kill Typhon.”
“Before you became a goddess?” he checks.
I nod. “Then Lysa gave it to The Duchess. From what I understand, she can control me with it.”
Poseidon frowns and grazes his fingers along his chin. “She’d have to ingest it.”
“The gods are picking sides,” Archan says. “Atlas has already been killed.”
Poseidon’s eyes cut to him. “How?”
“A colleague and friend of Natia’s stabbed him with a blade of Chaos.”
“Human?”
Archan shakes his head. “No, warlock.”
I frown. “I also gave him extra power when I saved him.”
“How did you save him?”
“Blood transfusion,” I state with a shudder, remembering the look in Lawrence’s eyes when he slit Zee’s throat and the frantic hunt I did before finding the equipment to give him my life’s blood.
“Before or after you died?” Poseidon asks.
Archan tilts his head and gives me an odd look.
“Before,” I answer.
