The Struggle

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  I didn’t know what to say.

  Cronus’s fingers twitched against the duvet. “I’m not like them.” His pale lips peeled back, revealing surprisingly white teeth. “It takes more than a few pure-bloods and a bound demigod to feed me. I’m older and more powerful. I need more.” Pausing, he exhaled heavily. “A few days with a demigod should . . . it should do it.”

  Oh no, no, no.

  My skin began to crawl. I thought about all those bodies outside and realized they weren’t mortals. They’d been pures. He’d drained them dry and they’d been tossed aside as if they were nothing more than trash. I thought about Mitchell. Was he now tossed aside like Lauren, the girl, and those pures?

  Would I eventually become one of them?

  “We need to be careful,” the other Titan spoke, the one with the blue, spiked hair. “She cannot stay here for long periods. It will not be safe for you. Not until you are fully restored.”

  “That is why I have not brought her here until now, Oceanus,” Hyperion said.

  The blue-haired Titan smirked. “And we’re supposed to believe that? We know who she is. We know what you’re about. All you concern yourself with is a personal vendetta.”

  Hyperion said nothing.

  “He thinks she will draw Apollo out,” Perses stated, still holding my arm like I was going to run. I wanted to, but I wasn’t stupid. There was no place for me to go. “The only thing he will succeed in doing is bringing the God Killer to his door.”

  Air whooshed out of my lungs at the mention of Seth.

  “He will not find her,” Hyperion argued. “We are warded.”

  “Wards are not permanent,” Perses retorted. “And you do not know him. I do. He will get through the wards. He will find a way.”

  “He hasn’t yet.” Smugness crept into Hyperion’s tone. “I will find him first.”

  Oceanus sneered. “He killed Atlas, you fool. He is a god, capable of killing us.”

  Seth was an actual god now? I guessed that made sense since he was the God Killer, but Apollo hadn’t called him that. Neither had Hades.

  Hyperion rolled his eyes. “I am not afraid of him.”

  Perses cocked his head. “Perhaps you should be. We all need to be cautious.”

  “He will not be able to end me once I’m fully restored,” Cronus said slowly, painfully lifting his hand. He crooked a finger. “Bring her.”

  Panic exploded in my chest, and I dug in, but Perses was strong, and my bare feet slipped on the hardwood floor. I threw up my hand, grasping the edge of the bed.

  “Why?” I gasped out. “Why are you doing all of this?”

  I’d asked Hyperion that and never gotten an answer beyond his hatred for Apollo entombing him, so I didn’t expect Cronus to answer.

  He did. “We want what our children took from us. We want to repay them for what they’ve done.”

  Revenge? This was all about revenge?

  Holy crap, lives were being destroyed and lost all over something that happened back before time was probably even being recorded? And they accused Hyperion of having a personal vendetta? Didn’t seem any different to me.

  Oceanus moved toward the bed and slid an arm behind Cronus, easing him upright. “We must be quick.”

  “Closer,” urged Cronus.

  Fear overtook the panic. I fought—fought as best as I could, and the fight was over before it ever began. Perses lifted me up like I was nothing more than a struggling kitten. Pressed onto the bed and held down, panic consumed me. This was it. This was going to be it. I knew it. The dream had been wrong. I would die here. I would die being used as a universal power adapter—

  “Don’t be afraid,” Cronus rasped, his eyes lighting up as he placed a bony hand against my sternum. “The pain is only temporary.”

  ~

  Seth

  Basil stood beside where I sat, his hands clasped together in front of him. There wasn’t a speck of dust on his white clothes. He waited in silence. The damnable chair I sat in was almost the size of a throne. Actually, if I was being honest with myself, which was what I was trying to do, it was a throne. It was the only chair in what used to be the sitting room. A dais had been built at some point and that was what the chair sat upon.

  So, yeah, a damn throne.

  My hands tightened on the titanium-plated arms and I tried again. Eyes closed, I pictured Hyperion’s face and let myself slip into a void. Opening up all my senses, I searched for him in the darkness.

  This is almost like when Professor Xavier uses Cerebro, I thought with a smirk. I was looking for the imprint the Titan left behind. It was how Apollo seemed to always know where we were and could appear wherever we were at any given time.

  Once I’d put the bottle down and started listening to what Basil and Karina had to say, I was figuring out there was a whole hell of a lot I could do. Karina had explained how all of this was possible, how I’d become what I was. A little part of me still almost couldn’t believe it.

  But the proof was in the Pegasus.

  For starters, if I could picture the person or the place, I could easily transport myself there. I’d already figured that out when I’d popped in on Josie. Calling forth akasha or any of the elements required a mere thought, and if I was very still and quiet, I could feel the power humming under my skin.

  I had to . . . I had to feed, though.

  It wasn’t like before—like it had been with Alex all those years ago or like it had been with Josie. There was no confusing need with want. I needed the aether Karina offered. I did not want it from her.

  That was the difference between feeding from her and Josie. I wanted it from Josie, because I wanted her, everything about her, but I couldn’t do that to her.

  I also, frankly, didn’t really care when I fed off Karina and she was several shades paler or when she immediately excused herself and barely made it to the temple to rest. I only felt the barest flicker of remorse when she had shown up last night and there were dark shadows under her eyes.

  But if I didn’t feed off her, then it would be one of the tall, blonde priestesses and I couldn’t do that.

  What in the hell did that say about me?

  Nothing good.

  Luckily, I did not need to feed every day. I started to recognize the signs—weariness, hunger for mortal food, and irritability. All signs that it was time to recharge.

  It blew my mind that no one had ever known that all this time this was how the gods had maintained their power.

  Exhaling roughly, I searched the abyss, but like the time before, I found nothing. Frustrated, I opened my eyes. “I can’t find him.”

  “Then he must not be on the move,” Basil replied. “That has to be good news.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that. Just because Hyperion wasn’t roaming around didn’t mean the other Titans weren’t, and Josie . . . She was still out there, maybe even still in Malibu. Or they’d left to find the other two demigods.

  Unrest filled me, and it had nothing to do with aether. There was an odd sensation in the center of my chest. Had been there when I woke up. Almost like when you walk in the room and forget something. I couldn’t shake it.

  Something didn’t feel right.

  Thrusting my fingers through my hair, I narrowed my eyes as I stared across the narrow, empty room. “I tried seeking out Apollo this morning. Couldn’t locate him either.”

  “He must be in Olympus, Kýrios.”

  I’d given up on telling the bastard to stop calling me master. I couldn’t pop myself into Olympus. Since I’d never been there, I couldn’t seek it out, but I knew of gateways that would let me in. Finding one would be . . . interesting.

  And probably fun.

  But once I made it to Olympus, they would not be able to stop me from entering whenever I wanted, and that would be even more fun.

  Standing, I walked across the raised floor and stepped down. I started across the room when Basil said, “You should bring her here, Kýrios.”

  I
stopped before I was even realizing what I was doing.

  “I know you do not like to speak of her,” Basil continued cautiously. “Perhaps your heart no longer feels the same for her, but even if you no longer want to be with her, it is not safe for her to be out there.”

  Slowly, I turned around and faced him. Power rippled over my skin. “My feelings for her have not changed. They will never change.”

  Basil tilted his head to the side. “So you still care for her deeply?”

  Part of me wanted to tell him to mind his own damn business, but I didn’t. “She is psychi mou. I love her. I will always love her.”

  Confusion marked his face. “If she is your soul, then how do you not trust yourself with her? That alone would ensure her safety.”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but I found myself without words. Basil didn’t understand. I hadn’t been able to stop myself before. But it is different now, whispered the voice in the back of my head. Listening to that voice, caving to it, was too risky.

  Spinning around, I stalked out of the door and passed several servants who were dusting or doing whatever the fuck they always seemed to do in the many rooms. They, of course, practically kissed the floor when they bowed.

  I ignored them and went outside. Stopping under the shade, I scanned the horizon. Several small boats floated in the sea. I rubbed my hand against my chest, under my heart. I knew what the problem was. I needed to know if Josie was okay. I could do that without her knowing since I’d done it before. I could keep watch over her from afar.

  After all, I was a damn god.

  I could do that.

  I should have already done this—checked in on her after I’d seen her sleeping. Basil was right. It wasn’t exactly safe, even if she could protect herself or if the people she was with could throw down. But if I saw her again, could I really leave her again?

  Lowering my gaze, I closed my eyes and pictured her face. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips. Her features pieced together so quickly and perfectly it was almost like she was standing right before me. Holding onto her image, I searched for her.

  I found nothing.

  “What the hell?” I opened my eyes.

  Heart rate kicking up, I tried again, reaching out into the void, searching for her imprint and there was . . . there was nothing.

  Confusion rose swiftly. That didn’t make sense. No matter where Josie was, I should be able to find her. Mentally backtracking to the last place I knew she’d been at, Gable’s house, I pictured the home and felt myself shift.

  A second later, I was standing in front of the home Gable lived in.

  “Hell,” I growled. Immediately, I knew something had gone down here.

  The driveway was cracked—not just cracked, but split wide open, creating a steep crevice. My head jerked up, and I rushed past the rift and pushed open the door. It creaked and fell from its hinges, crashing off the floor, but I didn’t really hear it.

  The house was utterly destroyed.

  What had happened outside had continued inside and there were no signs of life, but I could feel it—a residue of power so potent that it was not from this realm. There was a coating that belonged not to just one god but many. Stepping back from the destruction, my hands closed into fists as knots of unrest formed.

  Something had happened here.

  Something bad.

  And if I couldn’t feel Josie, it meant one of two things. Her presence was being blocked, warded against me, or . . . or she was no longer in this realm.

  Chapter 13

  I willed myself across the hundreds of miles, from the coast of California, beyond the Badlands, to the office of the Dean of the Covenant University.

  Appearing in the center of the room, about three seconds passed before those in the room realized they had a visitor. Marcus was in the chair behind the large mahogany desk, reclining back, one leg hooked over the other, arms folded loosely over his chest as he listened to the two before him.

  Deacon was sitting.

  Luke was standing directly to his right.

  Seeing them and not finding Solos with them was all kinds of wrong. That bastard hadn’t deserved what’d happened to him.

  Marcus was the first to see me.

  Blood draining quickly from his face, he stood in a rush, bright green eyes wide. “Holy gods . . .”

  Luke spun and stiffened, his expression locking down as he easily glided to the side, blocking Deacon, who was staring at me like he’d seen a ghost.

  I smiled at the not-so-subtle protective move.

  “Seth,” Deacon breathed, coming to his feet. “You just appeared . . . out of thin air . . .”

  “You know, there was nothing more annoying than Apollo or any of the other gods just randomly popping up whenever they wanted,” I said, my gaze flickering over them as I walked toward the desk. “But I’ve got to admit, being able to do it is pretty fucktastic.”

  Marcus continued to stare.

  I smirked. “Yeah, spoiler alert. I’m kind of a god now.” Pausing, I leaned forward, placing my hands on the smooth surface of the desk. “Isn’t that scary?”

  “Yeah,” he breathed. “It is.”

  Raising a brow, I pushed away from the desk and crossed my arms. My gaze flickered to Luke. “Sorry about knocking you out. No offense meant.”

  A muscle flexed along Luke’s jaw. “Not sure if I’m supposed to accept that or not.”

  I shrugged. “Everyone can relax. I’m not here to start a riot or bring the roof down.”

  “How?” Deacon breathed. “How are you . . . ?”

  “Long story that I don’t have the time nor the desire to explain.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marcus slowly sit down. Or his legs gave out. One of the two. “I’m not planning to stay.”

  “Of course not,” Marcus replied.

  I frowned slightly. “I went to the house in Malibu. Looked like some crazy shit went down.”

  Dark shadows were under Deacon’s normally lively silver eyes. “Um, yeah. Apparently we were never supposed to kill a Titan.”

  “Oh, really?” I muttered dryly, using my “zero fucks to give” tone.

  “Killing Atlas caused some major earthquakes,” Luke explained, brows furrowed together. “You didn’t know that?”

  I raised a brow.

  “It also punched a hole straight into Tartarus,” Deacon added, leaning against the back of the chair. “Charred daimons escaped right into Gable’s living room. It was like a scene out of a horror flick.”

  My stomach twisted. “What?”

  “We fought them off until Hades and his men came up after them.” Luke rubbed his fingers through his hair. “Then Apollo showed up. Things got . . .”

  “What?” I repeated, the dread increasing.

  A rare form of anger flashed across Deacon’s face as he stared at me. “You weren’t there. How could you not be there?”

  My spine stiffened at the meaning to his words. When I spoke, my voice was deadly soft. “I like you, Deacon. I always have, so I’m going to say this once and only once. I had to leave.”

  “But you’re here now,” he said, pale cheeks flushing.

  “Deacon,” Luke warned, touching his arm.

  “No.” Deacon shook the half’s hand off. “Josie stood up for you—defended you after you left us—left her. She stood up to Alex