The Stone Queen (The Dark Queens Book 9)

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The Stone Queen (The Dark Queens Book 9) Page 17

by Jovee Winters


  Truth was, I felt centered when I was with Medusa, and I didn’t believe it was just me either. She understood me and I her in a way I was sure no one else could ever know either of us.

  I was utterly defenseless against her, and while it terrified me, it also made me feel as though I soared on eagle’s wings. I loved that female, with every pure fiber within me, and there weren’t many, but she owned every last one of them.

  But before I could go to her, there was one thing I had to do. Sailing through time and space, I arrived at Father’s private manor. It was where he resided a good ninety percent of his life.

  Immediately sensing his presence within his golden orchard, I veered course and went there, shocked to note he was alone the moment I stepped out. The skies were thick with the gliding elegance of powerful war dragons sworn to always guard his precious apples.

  Should any but he or those he allowed within stumble through this sacred land, they would be instantly turned to dust, no questions asked. Ever. Amongst us, Father was king, and as he’d said a time or two in his day, it was good to be king.

  He stood amongst his trees and was rooting around the branches of one in particular. The next moment, he pulled his hand back and had one of his fabled golden apples in his hand. After taking a large bite, he began to chew before his gaze turned my way.

  Grandmother Gaia had gifted the seeds to him as a wedding present when he’d wed Mother. The orchard was to remain solely in Mother’s private gardens. But Father had clearly taken a few seeds for himself. I didn’t imagine Grandmother would be happy should she ever learn of this, and yet I doubted she would be too upset by something so minor either.

  “Son?” he asked, his deep voice full of curiosity at my unplanned arrival.

  I tipped my head in acknowledgment. “Father. Have I interrupted any—”

  Waving off my words with a dismissive gesture, he took another large bite of his apple before saying, “Absolutely not. I am grateful for the company. I find myself feeling… things.” He blinked then looked startled that he would be so honest with himself but especially with me. Tossing the rest of the uneaten apple, a fruit that humans would literally kill to take just one bite of, he inhaled deeply. “What brings you here?”

  Father had a terrible reputation amongst the pantheon and even sometimes amongst the mortals, especially the men. But he was a multifaceted being, one with many parts, and only a rare few were privileged enough to see them all. I was one of the rare few.

  He did not glow with god light. Today he was simply a man in a toga, bare of foot and looking weary. Dark circles sat beneath his eyes and the way his mouth was set let me know he struggled internally.

  But Father was nothing if not private. He rarely even told Mother when he had troubles, and I could count on one hand when he’d ever actually opened himself up to me. If he wanted me to know something, he would tell me.

  Clearing my throat, I removed my helmet and tucked it beneath my arm, strangely nervous over coming here. What if he didn’t want to help me? He was within his right. And I didn’t want to call in favors due, not for this. I never wanted what Medusa and I had to be tainted by deceit in any form.

  Steeling my nerves and finding that reserve of strength that had gotten me through worse times than these, I simply spoke the truth. “I am here on behalf of a mortal woman who has come to mean quite a… a lot to me in recent—”

  “A woman?” There was an obvious question in his tone. “What woman is this? I thought you and Aphrodite would recon—”

  “Mother, no doubt.”

  The lifting of his brows was as good as an affirmation. With a grunt, I sat down on the stone bench and sniffed, staring out at the tranquil setting and understanding why Father should seek out such a place for refuge. This was as close to heaven as one could find. The sky was azure, the clouds white and fluffy, the grass as green as emerald dust, and the smell of apples was everywhere.

  “She is happy with Hephaestus, father. Surely you know this already.”

  Sighing heavily, he came to sit beside me. His body was nearly equal to my own. Though I was broader in the shoulders than he, he was more barrel-chested than I was. The bench wasn’t actually large enough to hold us both, and our thighs were pressed tight, but I wasn’t inclined to move either. Something inside of me felt strangely off.

  I wasn’t used to feeling such softness and worried that it might weaken my position amongst my fellow gods. I was War. I should not feel as I did, surely.

  I felt his eyes upon me. Finally, after several moments of easy but weighted silence, he said in his deep voice, “You love this mortal, son.”

  This was not a question, and I didn’t treat it as one. I shrugged, because the full scope of what he said was bigger than I could put into words. How could I even begin to explain to him that what I felt went deeper than mere words of love? That I wasn’t promising Medusa my body or even just my heart for as long as she lived but for as long as I did—and then maybe even beyond it. That I’d never had such a bond with any living thing before, not ever. Not to my parents, my siblings, or even Aphrodite, whom I could honestly say I had loved and, in fact, did still love.

  “And I suppose,” he continued, “that you’ve come to me wishing to extend immortality to her?”

  I stared silently at the golden apple that could gift said immortality. One bite of the fruit would give a mortal immortality, just that simple. But immortality could be a curse to some. I’d lived so long that there were great chunks of my life that I no longer remembered. They’d happened so long ago. What if Medusa ate of the fruit and one day no longer wanted me or this life I’d cursed her with?

  Cracking my knuckles, I shook my head. “I did come here, Father, for an apple. But the truth is I worry about what is right. What if she doesn’t share my desire for her? Or if a mortal’s fleeting feelings will carry over into immortality and one day she might discover I am as boring as everyone accuses me of being?”

  He was so silent, I turned to look at him, and I was surprised by the intensity of his stare. He was looking at me, but he was also looking right through me.

  “The world would have you believe, Ares, that I never loved your mother. The truth is, I have had but one great love.”

  I frowned, my heart beating fast because I’d never expected to hear Father speak so candidly with me. “What?”

  He sighed then blinked, and I knew he was back in the present when he next looked at me. “She and I, we are not perfect. And in fact, I do not think that we can ever recapture the magick of what we’d first shared together. There is too much pain, too many lies and betrayals on both sides. At some point, I grew cold and callused, as did she. It was easier to hurt each other than to try and humble ourselves and admit that we could have been the very reason we no longer function.”

  “Father, I did not know.”

  He grinned, but it was tired looking. “How could you, son? I know your mother lies with my brother. They have had an affair that’s lasted nearly as long as hers and mine before we married.”

  I clenched my jaw. I hated hearing the gory details of what went on in secret between my family. I knew we were colossally screwed up, I just liked feigning ignorance on the matter.

  “And while I should be furious, it would be wrong of me. After all, everyone knows I’ve not been faithful to her.” His mouth turned down. “I am only happy that she is happy again.”

  He would not meet my gaze but stared at the ground. His thick brows furrowed with his many problems.

  “Father, why have you told me these things?”

  His large hand was on my shoulder, and he squeezed gently. “I am a royal fuck-up, Ares. I don’t often admit it. Hubris is a dangerous thing.”

  I thinned my lips, because he wasn’t lying.

  “I have been a bastard to many, but when you came, I told myself I would do better. Try harder. Sadly, that is a promise I’ve not often been able to keep. It’s a sickness in me, I fear, this inability to
stop hurting those I love the most. I told you all that because I want you to be infinitely better than I ever was. You say you love her, then do right by her. I will gift you an apple, son. But promise me that you will not deceive her in any way. If she chooses to be with you and accepts immortality, then it would go all the better for you both. But if she rejects you, promise me that you will lick your wounds on Olympus and that this will not turn into the disaster it so often does with us prideful gods.”

  This conversation was so much deeper and reflective than I’d imagined at the onset. I’d never had any intentions of deceiving Medusa. I was transparent in all things. Always had been. Always would be, I hoped. But it brought me a measure of peace, and even some hope, that a man such as Zeus could have moments of such startling clarity and goodness.

  He snapped his fingers and suddenly held a gleaming golden apple in the palm of his hand. He stared at it with that same mile-long look, and I worried about him. He was not well, though I wished I knew why. Was this sadness over Mother? Or was this more?

  I didn’t often delve into emotions with Zeus. He simply wasn’t that type. Nor was I, but I loved my family. A great deal. And when they hurt, I did too.

  “She cannot touch the apple directly. Should she do so, she will perish instantly, but you can feed it to her. I wish you luck, my son. May you find the happiness and joy that has eluded me for far too long.”

  I took the proffered apple, debating whether to go or to say words I would never usually dare speak to him. But he seemed softer today too, and Medusa made me think that sometimes speaking truth to others wasn’t just good but necessary. Sometimes people needed to hear things.

  Swallowing hard, I said, “Father, I do not claim to be the brightest of the bunch, nor the most eloquent. But I am honest. It’s my one fatal flaw. I don’t know what it is that has you so contemplative, but whatever it is… determine its importance and worth to you, then make a decision and do it. Whatever it is you deem appropriate.”

  He didn’t look at me, nor did he acknowledge my words with words of his own, but his chin gave the slightest tilt, and I knew that was a declaration from him.

  Whatever this was, I hoped he might learn from it. Or that at the very least, my words might haunt him enough so that someday, he might actually decide to fix things. If I were a betting man, I would say this had everything to do with Mother. I did not know how they could ever fix the mess they’d made of their lives and their union, but I trusted that if anyone could overcome such insurmountable odds, it would be the two of them.

  With a clap of my hand to his knee, I stood and gestured with the apple. “Thank you, Father.”

  “Let me know how it went, boy.”

  I swiped open a travel tunnel and nodded firmly. “I will. I vow it.”

  Chapter 16

  Medusa

  I dressed for temple methodically, not even paying any mind to what I’d grabbed. I felt so empty, as though someone had reached inside me and scooped out anything that mattered. I was hollow, void, and without hope.

  I had gone from such joys as I had just last night, thinking that perhaps Ares and I could conquer the odds and be together, to now realizing it had only ever been a stupid dream and that I was nothing more than a nightmare waiting to be unleashed upon the immortal world.

  Not only could I never be with Ares, I could never be with a man period. When I thought about all those times I’d been alone with Perseus, my skin crawled and my breaths grew choppy. What if I’d done something with him? What if he’d done something with me? I clawed at my neck with cold fingertips. Ignorance hadn’t been bliss at all. I’d taken chances I would never have taken otherwise had I known just how badly things could have gone, not just for me but for everyone I loved.

  I shuddered to think about it.

  Wrapping a veil around my head, I decided that I would never look at another man again. I would die an old maid, and none would ever know about the fate that could have been mine had I continued down the previous path. I would never again be happy, but at least I would work hard to never show it.

  None but me would know the agonies I suffered and the enormous loss I must endure simply because I’d been born.

  Mother did not bid me farewell as I walked to the temple, and I thought she understood that I could not tolerate it. Never again would I tempt fate. If I saw a man, I would evade him. I would even go so far as to fly away if I must. But I was determined never to turn into that terrible monster that’d seen us all banished for it.

  I must have been walking faster than I’d thought, because before I knew it, I was nearly at the temple steps.

  What was I going to say to Ares tonight? I squeezed my eyes shut and shuddered. He would hate me forever. He would never understand why I did this. Should I tell him the truth? But what would he think of me then, if I did?

  And then I heard a voice I never expected to hear at this time of day, and I cried out in near agony when he suddenly appeared beside me.

  Looking tall and so handsome, he wore a smile that could have made even Apollo green with envy, it was so bright. He looked much altered from the brooding god I’d first met. In his hand, he held a single golden apple, and I swallowed reflexively.

  “Ares, what? Why are you—?”

  His brows twitched, and I began to notice that people were starting to stop and stare. Rumors had been spreading about us, but now they would prove not to be rumors at all but fact.

  He took a deep breath even as my stomach trembled and heaved.

  “I know I should not come as I am, Medusa. I never wish to harm you or your reputation, so the mere fact that I am here now should tell you that I do not care about them at all. Or what they think of our love, which is pure, I vow to you, my precious little bird.”

  I shook, clutching my hands to my breasts as hot tears gathered at the corners of my eyes. “Don’t do this. Please.” I squeezed out the words, feeling as though I couldn’t breathe.

  His smile began to oh so slowly turn downward. “I… I’m pledging myself to you. I am telling you that I love you. That I am in love with you. This is not a game, little bird. Not for me. I do not fall in love with mortals, ever. Because I find it unfair to do to them what so many of my own family have done to others. It is why I asked Father for one of his apples. For you. To show you how deeply I mean what I say and how much I hope and wish that you might feel the same for me. I understand that you have a prophecy, but all prophecies can be worked on. If you know who to talk to. And as to your vow, once my sister understands the truth of my feelings for you she will release you, I know she will.”

  The anger that I’d been feeling all night suddenly rushed through me. Resentment about my fate. Disappointment about the trajectory of my life. It all came bubbling up, and I didn’t stop to think before I said, “Go! Go away! I don’t love you! I am tired of your obsession with me! I hate you, Ares! You’re a great fool if you ever imagined that I could love you.”

  Behind me, I could hear the stirrings of others, their cruel laughter and whispering titters. They mocked us openly, and it wasn’t like any of the women wouldn’t have wanted to be in my position. I knew exactly what this was—envy, pure and simple. But that envy had turned to jealousy and now to hate. They wanted to see me crash and burn. They’d wanted to see it for years, long before I’d fallen in love with the sweetest, most gentle male I’d ever known.

  His face was dark, and he reminded me of the god of war in a way I’d never seen him before. I could feel the wild energy begin to swirl around him but also knew that he had a tight clamp on his emotions.

  To unleash his fire would be the end of us all, and though I’d just said possibly the cruelest words ever to him, he still would not hurt me. A choked sob spilled up the back of my throat, and my knees very nearly gave out.

  “You don’t mean this. This is not you. This is Ceto speaking. What’s been done to you, Medusa? Tell me. Let me fix this. Let me help you.”

  His words struck me
like a fiery dart through the chest, and I shook violently. I should have known he would figure it all out. He was so clever. So good. So wonderfully perfect. The mate of my soul.

  And when he grabbed my hands and brought them to his lips, my knees trembled violently. I swayed, and he grabbed me, wrapping a strong, powerful arm around me to hold me upright.

  His lips so close to mine. His heat my own. My heart screamed within me to take it all back. To tell the truth. He would forgive me. He was too good not to. And I would endeavor to never hurt him thus again.

  “Ares, I—” My words came out a croaking sound.

  I heard the outraged gasps at my arrogance for daring to imagine myself on the same level as a god, and it was like taking a bucket of ice-cold water to the face.

  He weakened me. His very presence and the look and smell of him, the feel of his power cradling my tiny form, had made me forget the very real danger I put him in merely by allowing him such liberties.

  Finding the very last dregs of my strength, I shoved him away as powerfully as I could. I knew it was not enough to actually hurt him, or even to budge him should he not wish to move. But shock transformed his hope into something painful to look upon.

  “Leave me!” I screamed, knowing the mockery I made of myself and the way I must look now to my entire village, like the madwoman they all believed me to be. Tears ran in streams down my face. “Don’t you get it yet? I don’t want you!”

  His back bowed, and he snarled. “I don’t believe that! What did Ceto tell you? What aren’t you telling me? You love me, I know you do! I will not be so easily swayed, but godsdamnit, woman, if you’ve got an ounce of decency, you will stop these lies, for they wound me as nothing else can!”

 

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