Fury of the Gods (Areios Brothers Book 3)

by Amy Braun

  “No,” Selena snapped. “No, it would not be. And if you threaten Derek like that again, I will destroy you. Selena the Goddess-slayer has a nice ring to it.”

  Gods above and below. I didn’t want to think Selena capable of such things, but ever since she had learned the truth about who she had been, she was different. Darker. And Athena was only making things worse.

  The goddess of wisdom knew when she was beaten. I heard her sigh and the distant tap of her boots as she walked away from Selena.

  Then she stopped.

  “I do not think on this decision lightly, Selena. I do not want to see Derek Areios harmed any more than you do. But sooner or later, someone will have to make a sacrifice.”

  And with that, Athena was gone.

  I stayed on the staircase and debated whether or not I should talk to Selena. I could hear her angry, uneven breathing, but at the same time… Athena’s words pierced me.

  I was the Bringer of Shadow and Flame. The man who would stand with treacherous gods after Cronus was released from Tartarus. My aether and fire would create soldiers that would slaughter at my will. Cassandra had seen this years ago, and her Prophecies were never wrong.

  My life was not worth the lives of the people I was destined to put in danger. And yet the future was murky. I didn’t know what would break me and force me to that point. I didn’t want to know.

  Nor did I want Selena to make a choice she would regret.

  There wasn’t a good end to this that I could see—no way out that didn’t carry the weight of blood.

  I took another step to meet Selena, but by the time I reached the top floor, she had entered her room and slammed the door shut.

  Maybe, just for now, being alone was easier for both of us.

  LIAM

  I’D BEEN IN a lot of scary situations. Standard fare when you’re a professional monster hunter. But facing down eight angry Olympians, at least half of whom would be happy to cut my heart out and feed it to me?

  Let’s just say they don’t cover that in basic training.

  Artemis brought me to a room that gave me serious King Arthur vibes, if Arthur and his roundtable had been seated in a garishly white room with a hazy mist circling the walls, bone-white chairs covered in plush black leather cushions, and the round table carved from a slab of marble.

  And if Arthur’s knights had been a ragtag group of Olympians.

  Aside from Athena, Persephone, Apollo, and Poseidon, all the players were here. Some I recognized. White-haired, hard-eyed Zeus dressed in a silver suit and black dress shirt and gripping his gently sparking Thunderbolt. Hades, whose long white hair, pale skin, and jet-black suit made him look like a black and white portrait. Hermes with gold curls, a pale blue tunic, navy dress pants, and winged sandals. Hephaestus stood, scraggly haired and wild-eyed, his bare torso smeared with soot and spotted with burns. Artemis, the angry hunter-goddess. Ares, the war god dressed in black armor and looking too much like Derek—if Derek were thirty, had a warrior braid, and looked ready to stab me.

  There were also the Olympians I hadn’t met yet but could hedge guesses about. On Zeus’s right was a stunning woman who looked to be around forty years old, dressed in a mauve gown that was hemmed by gold and diamonds. A sparkling crown nestled on her silver and gold hair. Cool blue eyes and a harsh mouth did not take away from her beauty, but made it clear I was not welcome here. Then again, Hera, Queen of the Olympians and goddess of empires, was hard to impress.

  On Hera’s right was another matronly goddess. She wore a plaid dress and a French braid dotted with small flowers that wrapped around her hair like a crown. Her eyes were gold, her smile warn. I was surprised how much Demeter looked like her daughter, my foremother, Persephone.

  Next to Demeter sat a goddess dressed even more casually than Artemis. This woman had curly blond hair and auburn eyes, and wore a pair of brown suede pants and a burnt orange T-shirt. Freckles spotted her skin like constellations. Literally. I saw the Big Dipper on her left arm, and Orion’s Belt on the right. Hestia.

  Sprawled on a chair near me in a fiercely provocative way, was man chugging a goblet of wine. He looked like what would happen if a blindfolded kid had been given free reign over a wardrobe, makeup, and a mannequin. The man wore a dress shirt with actual peacock feathers draping the sleeves. He wore mint tight jeans and mauve ankle boots. Chunky gold bracelets and chains draped his neck. The god’s hair parted down the middle—the left half was a tangle orange curls and the right half was tangled of black hair dyed with white spots. His skin was pale yet glistening in glitter. His lips were stained purple and dark eyeliner accentuated his violet eyes. Dionysus was certainly living up to his name as the god of wine and chaos.

  I looked around the room until my eyes snagged on a goddess with red hair. My heart stuttered. Every goddess was beautiful, but this one was truly in a league of her own. Her thick and luscious hair draped along her pale shoulders and hung next to the swells of her breasts. Her voluptuous body was wrapped in a red silk dress that plunged down her cleavage and cut dangerously high up her thighs. Black strap-heels covered her slender legs. I looked up again into that impossibly gorgeous face. It was hypnotizing, with smooth skin, strong cheekbones, full red lips and alluring sea-green eyes. I loved those sea-green eyes and the things they promised when I looked into them…

  “Stop toying with him, Aphrodite,” grumbled Zeus.

  I blinked, and my focus suddenly cleared. Uncomfortable heat flooded my cheeks. I still found the Goddess of Love and Beauty enthralling, but I felt lighter, more controlled of my senses.

  Struggling to act casual, I bowed at the waist in front of the gods. “It is an honor to be in your presence.”

  Ares snickered, but I ignored him. I’d only seen the Olympians when they specifically asked for me in the Clouds, and even then, I usually only encountered Zeus, Ares, or Artemis. To be honest, I spent most of my time with their subordinates—specially chosen scions who were not heirs, but who indentured themselves to directly serving the gods in every way imaginable.

  So to be standing in front of the majority of the pantheon was kind of a big deal.

  “Rise.”

  I did so. Zeus, who sat on a chair raised higher than anyone else’s, looked at me with bright eyes and no emotion.

  “What happened today was unacceptable,” he declared. “We are attempting to re-establish a rapport with our followers. Not drive them away.”

  I bowed my head. “Forgive me, my King. There was… a complication.”

  “We saw,” Ares remarked snidely. “Seems our new goddess has yet to be broken in.”

  I took a breath and exhaled slowly. Ares was trying to bait me. It wasn’t new. But usually his target was Derek. Now that Derek had dropped off the radar…

  No, no don’t think about that, focus on Zeus, he’s the one that matters, focus, focus, focus…

  “She has plenty of untapped potential,” Hestia pointed out with a soft voice. “It merely needs to be harnessed. Disciplined.”

  “She will have to make the Shift soon,” stated Hera. “It would be too risky for her to join the traitor’s side.”

  Zeus glanced at his wife, who stared back at him with challenge in her cool gaze. She had never been fond of the children he had sired outside their marriage.

  “All we need is for dissenters to take Athena’s side,” grumbled Hermes. “We’ve heard rumors that craft scions and sorrow scions are flocking to Persephone’s Haven to seek refuge. After this, we can expect other mortals shall do the same. If that happens, we will not be able to get them back.”

  “So, we purge the Haven,” voted Ares. “Force them to return back to their homes.”

  Dionysus cackled and took a long sip of wine. “Purging and forcing rarely work in anyone’s favor.”

  Ares looked at his brother. “If we take away their choices, we will remain in control.”

  “You underestimate my wife, Nephew,” Hades growled.

  My skin prickled
with unease. This was the first time I’d really seen him since the night we caught the Thunderbolt, and I was quickly reminded of why it was smart to fear him.

  “Then control her,” Hera snapped.

  The room darkened under the Underworld King’s rage. “Do not attempt to school me, Sister.”

  “The pact we made with Persephone and Demeter is sacred and has held for more than two thousand years,” Zeus declared, his voice rising and echoing through the room, drawing light back into it. “The Haven shall remain untouched.” He looked directly and his warmongering son. “Do not disobey me in this, Ares.”

  I bit my lip to hide my smile. From his angered look and the crush of heat that pressed through the room, Ares knew that Derek was likely hiding in the Haven. Persephone adored him and had offered an impenetrable shelter. He was safe, for now.

  “We must regain the love of the people,” Hera carried on. “I grow tired of their malcontent and brazenness.”

  “We shall,” Zeus assured. “I have faith in my heir and his family. They have always been loyal, and this is nothing that cannot be remedied. We shall simply see to it that Thea Eldoris is no longer with them.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, because I knew the gods would strike away everything that made her who she was to mold her into what they wanted, but Zeus spoke faster than me.

  “And while this is happening,” he looked directly into my eyes, “you shall preform a task for us. Something to make these transitions undisputed.”

  He reached into his blazer and withdrew a sheathed knife. He set it on the marble table and pushed it toward me.

  I stared at the blade. It was beautiful, so beautiful I knew it could only have been made by Hephaestus. Embossed with sigils representing each Olympian, and a line of sparkling stars inlaid on the cross guard. The sheath was printed with an image of Cronus raging in the heavens with his sickle, and Gaia, the mother Earth, looking up at the sky in sadness.

  I hesitated looked at Zeus. He nodded for me to take it. “Do not touch the naked blade,” was all he said.

  I reached out, and the moment my fingertips touched the gilt sheath and pommel, a shock of energy coursed through me. It didn’t hurt; it felt more like a painless electrocution.

  Slowly getting used to the sensation, I pried the knife from its sheath. Swords always sing when they’re freed, but I’d never heard such a clean, crisp sound from a knife. The blade was straight, light, and perfectly balanced.

  The knife’s beauty, combined with the pulsing power locked within it, tempted me. I wanted to touch the blade to see how sharp it was. Just a touch. A pinprick…

  I drew my hand back and set the knife on the table. It felt wrong.

  “He defies it,” Dionysus said, all but bouncing in his seat. “Most men would leap at the chance to take more power.”

  I looked at the chaos god. “What?”

  “My brother Hephaestus crafted that weapon at my request,” explained Zeus. “The Omega Knife is not only an exquisite weapon, but it has been imbued with a spell. One touch of the blade with draw out magic from a creature. Permanently.”

  I stared at him, dread sinking into my gut.

  Removing magic from any creature, monster or man, forever. This was too much power to hold in anyone’s hand, let alone mine.

  “Why did you give this to me?” My voice shook.

  “We know of the Prophecy spoken by Cassandra of Troy,” Hera explained. “Ares has informed us of your elder brother’s abilities.”

  I snapped my gaze to Ares, who could not have looked less concerned.

  “We know Derek Areios is the Bringer of Shadow and Fire. He will betray you and your friends and be among those who free the Titans.”

  “You’re wrong,” I shot, no longer caring about who I was speaking to. “Derek wouldn’t do that.”

  But I had seen the Prophecy. The shadowy form holding and a spear and standing with treacherous gods. Gods who could be in this very room. And then there was my memory of Derek killing Poseidon and Apollo. Derek would never have done those things if he weren’t already on the way to treason.

  No, no stop thinking that. It’s not him. He won’t do it. He would never forgive himself.

  I was ashamed for doubting him, even for a second. I narrowed my eyes and looked at the gods. “I am not killing my brother.”

  “No one said anything about killing him,” Demeter offered, her first words.

  Artemis, who had been a silent, bitter guard at my back, snorted with disgust. “Speak for yourself.”

  “Silence, daughter.” Zeus commanded. Artemis obeyed.

  “Do this for us,” Aphrodite said, returning to the topic, “and you will have anything you wish.”

  I smelled roses, and then all I could think about was her. The goddess would make my every fantasy come true. She could make anyone fall in love with me. I breathed in the rosy smell again, Aphrodite’s face shimmered, and then her hair turned black, her eyes turquoise, and her smile—

  I shook my head, dispelling the trick, the lie. Aphrodite smirked, and I saw that she let me go. I hadn’t broken free.

  She toyed with me.

  Anger swam into my heart.

  “How the hell can you ask this of me?” I demanded.

  Zeus levelled his cold, unforgiving gray eyes at me.

  “You are his brother. He trusts you.”

  Meaning Derek would let me get close to him.

  Close enough to stab.

  Close enough to kill.

  “No,” I repeated. “You are asking me to cut out a part of him. You want me to betray and hurt him in a way he will never forgive. And I refuse. Family may be a passing fancy to all of you, but to mortals, it matters.” I sheathed the Omega Knife and tossed it back across the table. It clattered loudly against the marble.

  “I will protect my brother. From assassins, monsters, guards, and himself. Don’t bother looking for someone else to do your dirty work for you because I will stop them, too.”

  Silence.

  As it grew, I realized the gravity of what I had done. I tore into the Olympians like they were toddlers in need of a scolding. But these weren’t immature brats. These were gods. Men and women who blessed families, instigated lust, tore through battlefields, hunted monsters, and commanded storms. And I was a kid—the younger brother to the most powerful scion ever known to live. At the end of the day, I was a nobody.

  But I refused to take my words back. I refused to apologize. Maybe I didn’t understand why Derek reacted the way he had on the beach. Maybe I hadn’t spoken to him in three months. I still knew him, still loved him, and would still keep him safe no matter the cost.

  The last person who would ever hurt him was me.

  Fingers twisted in my hair and yanked my head back. A cold blade pressed to my throat.

  “Foolish children,” Artemis hissed in my ear. I hadn’t even seen her move. “All of you, always contending with us as if we could be controlled.” The blade pushed harder, drawing a line of blood. “Give me the word, Father, and his head is yours. Or grant me some fun. My wolves have not hunted stag in a while.”

  Fear struck through me. Artemis had turned people into stags before. They were never faster than her wolves.

  “Cool your bloodlust, Daughter,” Zeus commanded.

  Artemis didn’t let me go. If anything, she gripped me tighter. Her fingers scraped against my scalp, and the cold knife bit lightly into my raw wound. I didn’t make a sound.

  “Why?” she demanded. “Why do you make allowances for him? Why can Derek Areios take away my brother, but I cannot take away his?”

  I heard the raw pain in her voice and for the first time, I sympathized with her. Oh, I was well aware that Apollo had been working with Ares to take the Eye of Cronus, and that the Eye had driven him insane. Ares had schemed and lied his way out of wrongdoing with the gods and claimed that he had been on Ares’s tail before he took the Eye and just hadn’t been fast enough.

  Complete bull
shit, but the Olympians believed him. After all, Apollo was the one who went insane.

  That hadn’t stopped Artemis from loving him. He was her twin, her other half, who stood with her for centuries.

  I had watched Derek die once. He had warned me that he was only doing it to erase the War Pact Ares had hexed him with so he could be free of the god. Persephone had been right there with him. But he’d still been dead for five hours. And standing there, looking at his cold, motionless body in the wheat field…

  It had been the worst five hours of my life. I couldn’t imagine how deeply Artemis felt Apollo’s loss.

  “There will be justice for Apollo, my daughter,” Zeus promised. “You are not the only one who mourns.”

  I closed my eyes for a long time. Damn it, Derek. What did you do?

  Artemis shoved away from me. I didn’t touch the cut on my neck or look at her.

  No one said a word until Artemis stormed out of the chamber and slammed the door. Silence filled the room, which began to darken as if someone were twisting down a dimmer switch. Only Zeus remained bright, his Thunderbolt sparking angrily.

  “You have offended me and my daughter,” Zeus declared, his voice booming in my head though he did not shout. “You refuse to obey me. I am within my rights to strike you down where you stand.”

  The chamber was nearly pitch black now. I could only see Zeus and his crackling aura.

  “Enjoy this victory, Liam Areios, for you have placed your friends in irrevocable danger. All of them can be replaced or broken. Corey Adrastos serves no purpose to us. Mason Khalekus has a large family. Thea Eldoris is a failing goddess. And you irritate me.”

  I tasted dry static in the air. It was hard to breathe. Sharp zaps of energy snapped against my skin.

  “Take the Knife or I will have Hephaestus melt it to your hand.”

  I believed him. And though it wounded my pride, getting a magic-draining knife welded to my hand—presumably after Artemis gleefully chopped it off—was not how I wanted to end an already shitty day.

  But I still don’t want to touch it.