"Darling," she cooed, placing her hand on Zeus's face. "You shouldn't be wasting time on someone as insignificant as her." I snorted. I couldn't help myself, but Hera ignored me. "Let me deal with her."
"No." Zeus shook his head, leaning more into her touch, into the vipers' nest not knowing that she was the poison running through his veins. I couldn't see it before, too blinded by my own naivety and stupidity. I was just a sheltered girl in my past life, trying to believe in the good in people, in Gods, but there was no such thing as good.
We were all villains. Different levels. Different hell. Different demons. But we were all villains no matter what we tried to tell ourselves.
"I need to deal with her," he hissed, his eyes landing on me once again as I stood in front of all of them, refusing to bow down. "I need to break her."
"And you will," the bitch said, her voice as sweet as honey, dripping to the floor in front of them. "But we need her to be on our side, remember? We need her to free us."
Never. I would never free any of them. I would never work for them.
"You're wasting your time," I said, bringing their attention to me. "I would never help you. Hell, as far as I'm concerned, you can all rot in hell." Hera smiled instead of bringing all her fury and dropping it on me, while Zeus seethed next to her, his fingers curling into fists.
But he wasn't what made me at least a little bit afraid—she was.
Her silence was unnerving and the way she stared at me as if she could see straight into my soul made me break our eye contact and look at Zeus himself. He was all raw power, loud, savage, but she… she was the danger. She was the mastermind behind this plan of theirs, making him believe it was all his idea.
If we weren't in this situation, I would've clapped, honestly. I would've asked her how she did it, but looking at Zeus, I don't think it was far too difficult. His fragile ego probably made it all the more easier, and Hera, well, she was known to be the perfectmanipulator over the years. A wolf, a monster hiding behind the perfect skin and soft smile.
"Darling." Hera smiled, dragging her eyes over my body. "Get the dagger, would you?" She looked at Zeus, directing all the fake softness she possessed. "We need to see if she can wield it, don't we? We need to be sure."
Sure of what? What fucking dagger?
Zeus nodded like a fucking obedient puppy and ran toward his dais, leaving her with me. The three harpies behind my back came closer—two of them grabbing my arms, while one just stood behind, holding her claws to the middle of my back.
"You'll have to forgive me for the guards." She looked at them and then at me. "But I still have no idea what you're capable of." And she never would. Not if I had anything to say about that. "And I mean, we can't have you killing me, of course. That would kill Zeus as well." Ares rolled his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest, obviously less than amused by this entire charade.
Hera walked toward me slowly, measuring every step, her intelligent eyes showing the wheels turning inside her mind, and I wished I could dive deep inside just to see her thoughts. Zeus all but ran toward us, carrying what seemed to be a small box, with runes carved all over its dark, leathery surface and with one single letter etched into the golden stamp where the keyhole was.
My own power slammed against the walls these shackles had erected around my mind, making me wince the moment Zeus brought the box closer to me. The humming in my ears suddenly started, slowly increasing, the decibels turning into screaming as the man in question opened the box, revealing an ancient-looking dagger sitting half covered with black cloth. My hands trembled as the need to touch it, to hold it, rose in me, making it almost impossible to breathe. Breaths stuck in my throat made me stumble forward, almost desperate to have it, to touch it.
It was mine. It was talking to me.
The handle was green with black runes etched into it, almost as if they were alive, swirling in front of my very own eyes. The black blade shone under the golden light inside the room and just as I reached toward it, one of the sisters pulled me back.
"Let go of me!" erupted from my lips. But three of them together were stronger than me alone, and there was no way to fight them. There was no way to fight any of them, especially with my power still locked tight behind these shackles.
"So it is true then," Hera barely breathed, her eyes volleying between me and the dagger. "She is the one." The whispers from around us increased, each saying the same thing, but in a different way—the God Slayer. The one. The prophecy. The end. The heiress of Death.
"What is that thing?" came through my gritted teeth, refusing to look at the dagger still so openly presented to me.
Hera closed the distance between us, her lips tilted into the tiniest of smirks, as if she knew something I didn't. "That, my darling, darling child, is the blade of the killers." Her eyes bore into mine as she stopped in front of me, her head slightly tilted to look up, to level me with the poisonous shine in her eyes. "That is your father's blade. And that's the blade you'll use to kill Hades."
My blood turned into ice and the need to fight them, to shake them off, to get the fuck out of here, rose fiercely in me. But just as I started thrashing, finally fucking fighting against these people, Hera's hands landed on my temples. The tips of her fingers dug into my skin, holding my head still.
"Oh, yeah." She laughed. "I can see you're hiding one more secret, aren't you?" She leaned closer, her lips right next to my ear. "My darling little Persephone."
Rebuttal was on the tip of my tongue, but as she pressed harder and as the piercing pain flew through my head, cuttingoff any rational thought, I finally remembered what Hera could do.
She could control minds if she wanted to.
27
HADES
"What doyou mean she's gone?" Medusa asked slowly, enunciating each word as she looked at me with those serpent eyes, destroying me piece by piece, because I knew she could see deeper than any of the other immortals on this island. "Gone as in, she's at your house, or?—"
"Gone, Medusa," I gritted out. "She ran away," I finally admitted, not just to her but also to myself.
