Page 9 of Lies Among Gods

She shot a sideways glance at her dad, her eyes catching the faint glow of the tablet screen. His gaze drifted from the illuminated surface to her mom, a dopey grin stretching across his face.

“Did Orin’s wife finally get pregnant?” she asked. She knew they had been trying for over a year now. She shoved a bite of bacon and pancake, dripping with syrup, into her mouth. “Or did Cadence get a promotion?”

“Lyra!” Diane scolded. “You don’t need to pretend to be modest.”

“Modest?” Lyra gasped, almost choking on the bite.

“We saw the news this morning,” Pollo laughed. “It was all over Pantheia this morning, and we couldn’t be prouder.”

Lyra’s brow furrowed as she looked between her parents. She shoveled more food into her mouth, hoping they would continue to explain whatever it was they thought was going on. But her mother continued to hum as she washed the dishes. Her dad picked his tablet back up, his grin growing the more he read.

Her mother filled a cup of coffee and placed it in front of her. She grabbed it and took a long swig. Her brain buzzed with possibilities, then it crashed.People had their phones out last night. How could I not have realized I’d end up on social media being seen with a god? Someone posted a picture of Asmodeus and me on Pantheia. That has to be it. They probably think I am going to be one of the concubines Asmodeus probably has stashed away somewhere. Lovely.She continued to eat quietly and quickly, hoping to avoid any awkward conversations about her non-existent sex life.

“I don’t know why you didn’t tell us,” Diane sighed, the sound was a drawn-out whoosh of air that seemed to hang heavy in the room.

“It’s not whatever it looked like,” Lyra groaned, breaking her silence.

“I know I’ve said it a thousand times,” Diane sighed. Lyra could tell by the tone that she was about to get lectured. “Wearing sweatpants isn’t the image you want to present."

“I’m at home, Mom,” Lyra grunted. “Who am I going to impress at home? You and dad? I’m pretty sure at this stage in my life neither of you would be impressed by anything I do.”

“You need to dress better,” Diane said, walking back over. Diane grabbed Lyra’s chin and gently lifted it. In her hand was a damp paper towel; she used it to cleanse the smeared makeup under her eyes. A small smile was on her face. “A goddess wouldnever be caught in sweatpants, and you have always impressed me. Just not in the ways you wanted.”

Lyra's mouth fell open, a gasp escaping her lips as her eyes widened in disbelief. “I just got up. Can you wait until after coffee kicks in to harp on me?” Her mind reeled, a silent storm of confusion. Was this truly happening, or a cruel prank? The air felt charged, electric, yet she was utterly still, her senses struggling to grasp the unreality of it all.

Laugher echoed from her father. “Honey, do you really believe a goddess is a twenty-eight-year-old still living with her parents? This all has to be a lie.”

“She was hanging out with a god last night,” Diane growled. “We all saw the video and heard what he said.”

Lyra, stunned by her father’s laughter and her mother’s words, pushed her plate back with a scraping noise. Her appetite had completely vanished, leaving a cold, hard knot in her stomach. Without a word, she shoved her chair back and turned, walking stiffly out of the kitchen.

"Lyra, don’t you walk away from me!” Diane’s voice sharpened, the cheer disappearing instantly. “And for the love of the gods, put on something nice before you leave the house! We are Nymphaea’s; we have standards!"

Lyra didn’t answer. She just continued down the hall, the sounds of her mother’s frustrated sigh and her father’s low, laughing voice fading behind her. She slammed her bedroom door shut; the wood rattled against the frame.

She didn’t change out of her sweats. Instead, she collapsed onto her bed and snatched up her laptop. Her hands trembled slightly as she opened Pantheia up.

Her social media feed was a sickening collage of her face and Asmodeus’s.

Headline after headline, video after blurry video. Her profile picture, the one she’d taken a year ago, was plastered nextto Asmodeus’s classically handsome face. The comments were already in the tens of thousands. A gasp hitched in her throat; the air thick and still. The letters on the page swam before her eyes, a dizzying dance.

"UNALIGNED LYRA NYMPHAEA CLAIMS GODDESS STATUS AFTER NIGHT WITH ASMODEUS."

"GOD OF LUST DECLARES WOMAN A NEW IMMORTAL: SEE THE SHOCKING FOOTAGE!"

"DENIED BY ALL FIFTEEN: THE GODDESS NO ONE WANTS."

She clicked the first video link, her heart hammering against her ribs. The grainy footage, clearly taken by someone across the bar, showed her booth at The Crucible. The sound was muffled but clear enough to make out some words.

She swiped to the next video, taken closer up. It was a clip of Asmodeus leaning in, his voice a purr even through all the background noise:“A goddess never dates beneath her."

And then, the part that had clearly set her life on fire:“You’re being denied… because when you die, you will be a goddess. You will be one of us.”The video was surveillance footage from the temple that had spliced the conversation with the conversation in the bar, making it look like one seamless, divine pronouncement. The clip ended with the blinding flash of white light as Asmodeus transported them out into the street.

“How?” she muttered.

Lyra dropped the laptop on the comforter, her breath hitching. They knew. The entire world knew her secret—or what the gods wanted the world to think was her secret. Her fleeting moment of defiant, secret conversations had been captured and weaponized. Conversations she didn’t know if they were real or a divine joke.

Her phone buzzed relentlessly on the nightstand where she had left it with notifications–messages, tags, friend requests.She picked it up, scrolling through; one name stood out: Adrian. Her ex-boyfriend, the one who publicly humiliated her in that cold high school hallway years ago. The one who had turned her into an outcast. That was the last time she had felt normal; that was the day that started every rejection, every sneer, and at that moment she felt he was the epicenter of it all.