Page 1 of The Gods Forbid

Chapter 1

Persy

I had an interesting relationship with divinity.

For one, I was the daughter of two of the most powerful gods in history, and sister to the most. But on the other hand, I grew up knowing I’d never take power.

It took me a year to master the small well of power I was bestowed, whereas the firestorm my brother inherited still wreaked havoc.

But I was well aware that as a member of the divine, I was viewed as on par with the gods in most contexts. Especially given my family’s infamy.

That was why I’d decided early on that I wanted to do something with the privilege and power I’d been given. I had always believed that hurt people hurt people, that there was always something underneath someone’s rebellious acts.

So the day I got the okay from my parents to turn Prometheus, once a famed prison, into something that tried to help people recover from whatever pushed them into the reckless or the criminal, I took it.

It had been four years since I took over. Four years since I’d been a wide-eyed twenty year old who had to learn very quickly that while most could benefit and rehab their lives, there were some who couldn’t be fixed.

I wasn’t quite sure where the god sitting in front of me belonged. Whether evil had seeped so deeply into his bones that no one could extract it, or if circumstance had pushed him into this desperate corner where he recklessly tried to overthrow my brother.

He was sleeping, resting his large form against the hard stone gracefully.

It was quite impossible to ignore his beauty. His features looked like they’d been sculpted from marble by a master of their craft, his dark hair falling perfectly.

His eyes, though currently closed, were akin to an oil painting, a mess of every color imaginable—blue, green, gray, yellow, you name it.

And his form…that certainly had to be a product of his power. I was tall myself, standing at six feet, but he had at least half a foot on me, with shoulders large enough to eclipse the sun.

Strong hands that looked both able to command the heaviest of bows and balance a paintbrush with utmost care.

Such artistry in a man, and yet it was wasted on a reckless grab for even more power than he was already bestowed.

At the thought, I tapped lightly on the iron bars of the old cell, rusted and weak with lack of use.

Sebastian jolted awake before settling back into a graceful stance. When his eyes settled on me, his jaw turned to stone.

“Hello,” I said, and the word seemed to have the effect of a clanking bell on him. His muscles jerked, his jaw pulsing like he was trying to forcefully keep it closed. “You don’t have to speak. I’m not here to have a conversation, really. Just to let you know what your future looks like.”

Sebastian snorted sardonically, raising one dark eyebrow at me. The picture of doubt. “Your brother couldn’t have done it himself?”

Okay, so he was choosing the path of diversion, focusing all his energies on distancing emotion or guilt through sarcasm. I knew that type.

“My brother is with his wife, ensuring that she is in full health.” Something flickered across his face, but it was squashed as quickly as it appeared. “Besides, he and I are still not quite in agreement on how to move forward.”

Sebastian grinned, the stubble that had grown on his face over the past few days hiding the crease of his smile lines. “He accepts disagreement?”

There was an inch too much condescension in his tone. One that I would not accept, regardless of how much older he was than me, how much more powerful.

I’d been shoved into a corner my entire life, my soft-spoken, naturally optimistic nature mistaken for immaturity and naivety. “It won’t serve you well to act like I am someone who he—or anyone for that matter—can walk all over.”

“I would never assume so, love.” Sebastian had the nerve to look impressed at the strength of the tone I’d used. “Enlighten me on this disagreement.”

In reality, disagreement was a rather kind word for the fight Adrian and I had. He was still clearly panicked and reeling over the near loss of his wife and wanted nothing more than the worst for Sebastian.

After I let him get all of his anger out, while also watching a rather impressive change from him in the form of letting a mild rainstorm fall over Olympus rather than bearing down on his power and accidentally letting a lightning bolt fly, he settled enough for me to reason with him.

By the end of the conversation, he still wanted to impale Sebastian with a million tiny arrows, but he agreed with my final goal. It was what was best for our world. Adrian couldn’t disagree with that, his duty as king of the gods needing to eclipse his anger in this one instance.

I kept my answer to Sebastian short and chose a version of the truth to see what his reaction would be. “He would have you sitting in solitary confinement until he could figure out a way to work around the issue of your heirs. Then he’d kill you.”