“You’ve been lying to me since the beginning!” Meg’s accusation is more about what we learned from Cerberus than anything else.
On my side of things, it’s hard to feel joy at our “mating” each other, or the idea that I’ll get to live instead of dying.
It’s hard to be happy about anything with that despairing look on her face. And what I sense coming through that connection?
Hades is distracted, focused on the entry point to the throne room as if he’s waiting for something. “You’re seconds away from your freedom. Please tell me how I lied.”
“You said I would have the choice to kill him when this is over.”
“You still do.”
Alright. He’s lost his fucking mind. “Are you stupid? She’ll die if I die. That’s what Cerberus said.” And he wasn’t lying. I might not fully understand what this whole mating thing entails, but that’s a certainty I sense in my veins.
“Still a choice she has. If she hates you that much, she can still make it.” Definitely unperturbed. He runs a hand across his chin and paces a bit, like he’s pondering the predicament he put us in. “However, Megara, we both know what the real issue is: mating or not, you no longer with him dead. Do you?”
Her hand curls into a fist at her side. She struggles to seem impassive; everything about her is in a state of heartbroken, confused turmoil.
Forgetting about Hades, I head to her. She resists me at first, but with my hands on either side of her face, I spin her to me. “Meg, you don’t have to forgive me. You don’t even have to love me.” Although she does. It’s the strongest of all the emotions pulsing from her to me. Making her admit it, though, would be cruel.
Maybe one day she’ll be ready, but that day isn’t today.
“We’re mated.” Her voice shakes with the gravity of it. “I might not know the full details of what that means, but come on. We both feel the weight of this thing.” She waves at our chests. “How irreversible it is.”
“Then you can use me and feed off me, anyway you want, and nothing more,” I offer softly.
It would become more. It’s written on her face.
A surge of impulsive triumph threatens to rise. Down, boy. Down. Don’t jump the gun. Yet how can I not? A chance to not only win back her forgiveness, but a shot at a life with her? An eternal one?
“You know, Meg, Kles’ transformation isn’t exactly complete. His struggles have just begun. Being mated to you will make things more challenging for him in the future. So if watching him suffer is what you want . . .”
Her eyes narrow into that dangerous scowl and she starts to spin her head toward Hades—
“You know,” I mimic, keeping my voice level. Running my thumbs along her jaw, I bring her closer. “He has a point. You can continue having a front row seat to my deterioration.”
She scoffs under her breath. “You’re seriously willing to become my sperm donor, blood-bag, and lose yourself to Madness even more for me?”
“I’ll do whatever I have to do, be whatever I have to be, just to have a chance with you again. You know that.”
A sheen of tears overcome her eyes, but she blinks them back.
“Just thought I should also add that Madness and Power will be needing you moving forward, Goddess, so might want to take that into account when making your decision.”
That earns him a glare from us both. “Goddess. Of. What?” we demand simultaneously.
“Desire.”
Meg’s jaw falls open in my hands.
Not that I’m too far behind.
We gape at him speechlessly, stunned.
“I’m sure you can see how this works. Power”—he signals to me, then to her—“Desire. Desire”—again he motions my way—“Madness. It all feeds into each other, really.”
“De—desi—” Meg chokes on the word, leaving me to finish it for her.
“Desire,” I mumble in a daze, a thousand nightmare scenarios playing through my mind. Not only does the vision I had of her in that dream suddenly make absolute sense, a host of new problems come along with it.
This female was already one of the strongest succubi out there. With an effect that could render almost anyone useless. I saw it with my own two eyes! Now to add the powers of Desire to that?
“Is that why I was able to control the sirens? I didn’t just play on their wants, I was able to control them by forcing new ones on them,” Meg says.
“Of course. Sirens and the Succubi. You are their patron goddess now.”
“How the hell did you make me a goddess?”
“Yeah,” I interject. “How the fuck?” This would mean he’s above my father on the power-scale.
Although, didn’t I already suspect it?
Or, I could’ve been lied to. Maybe it isn’t just the Fates that can choose who ascends.
“The why or how doesn’t matter. You’ll know everything shortly. I’ve assigned you an escort into the first underworld and spending time with him will come in handy for you, Madness, considering what you’ll face in the coming months.” Hades tilts his head, staring beyond us at the entrance way.
We face it, half-expecting it to open and admit whoever he’s speaking of inside.
Instead, a portal spirals open. Unlike the others we encountered, this one doesn’t come with a vacuum of wind that threatens to disperse us.
Black and red mist leak into the chamber. Red lightning sparks within it and I swear I can hear faint, haunting cackles from that fog.
“Oh, no, no. You don’t let those things loose in here. You hear me?” Hades snaps.
Heavy footsteps slam into the marble floor as the mist begins to recede, the lightning and ghostly laughs disappearing. “Careful, Hades. Only my mate controls what I do and do not kill,” a split voice consisting of three different tones rings out.
Three. Just like me.
The male walks the rest of the way in and the first part of him that becomes fully visible are those heavy, black and red boots. The rest of him is just as decked out, covered by a vicious, tribal-ish armor in the same color.
Swept back burgundy hair. A demonic face marked with red and black lines, and protruding cheekbones that bring out the shape of his matching eyes—all-black with glowing red irises.
He’s like a living representation of demonic possession come to life.
He stops to study Meg and I.
We’re studying him, too, trying to understand the level of ancient power screaming off this male.
First of his kind. More than ancient. Retribution manifested.
Power is awestruck at his presence, barely making sense. And what Madness has to say?
Torn, like us, but united. At peace with the monstrosity within him.
He finally addresses Meg and I. “Are you two ready to go? We’re on a time crunch and your friends will be waiting for you on the other side.”
She shakes her head, stepping back. “Who are you?”
“Vengeance,” comes his stoic reply.
As in: The God of Vengeance.
The first of his kind, Power reaffirms. AKA: a god I’ve never heard of before.
“He’s also the God of Tranquility, believe it or not, so if you think you had it bad, Kles, just know others have it worse,” Hades says.
Vengeance smiles at the God of the Underworld. “Some of us do have it worse, don’t we, Hades?”
Now what the fuck does that mean?
No importance. Apparently, this male was sent to be a guide and a teacher to me, and Power is convinced he’s more than capable of being both. “You said something about our friends?”
“Hylas, Elacatas, Philoctetes. I believe those are their names? They’re waiting within the first underworld.”
“Wait, no Theseus?”
Hades sucks his teeth, barely holding back a growl. “Hate to sound like the humans, but as they say, yeah . . . no. Fuck him.” Some mistakes are truly never forgiven, it seems. “As a matter of fact, Zeniel, if you see that bastard, ha
ve your wraiths cut off his dick.”
Note to self: hide Theseus from the lord of the Underworld ‘till the end of all time.
Zeniel, as Hades called him, curls his lip. “What have I told you? No one controls who I punish except my mate.”
“Just so you know, even if you reunite with that piece of shit on your travels, it won’t be in any of the underworlds. Especially the one you’re heading into,” Hades grumbles in warning to me.
Zeniel’s lip curls with both amusement and chagrin. “Yeah, the king of that one is big on family loyalty. Sorry.”
I reach for Meg, intertwining our fingers, as the realm beyond the portal begins to crystallize.
It’s that other throne room I saw in my dreams. The pitch-black one lit up by the billions of small orbs.
“So, are we doing this?” the God of Vengeance asks.
I look at Meg. “Are we, baby?” She knows I’m asking so much more than whether we’re really walking into that dimension or not.
Her hands twitches in mine, eyes shining with uncertainty. With a nervous swallow, she tears her eyes from that other throne room to meet mine. “Fine. Okay. We’re doing this.”
Fuck yes . . .
Jumping for sheer fucking joy will have to wait, though.
A huge smile begins to break out across my face, and all I want to do is haul her up against me and smother her in kisses, but a new male voice calls out from the throne room.
“About time. Now, are you coming in, or not. There’s a clock ticking the both of you know nothing about.”
We look toward where that voice came from—
He walks across the platform where that tribal throne is, black trench coat swishing along his leather-covered legs. His black turtle-neck leads up to a face we’ve both memorized by now.
Hades’ face.
The only difference? This male’s eyes are full-on silver with no pupils.
He stops in front of the throne, behind that empty dais, and crosses his massive arms.
It’s him. One of the statues from the hallway. One of the statues that spoke to me in that dreams.
And I repeat: Hades’ spitting image except for those eyes.
Meg and I exhale a breath as the ramifications of what this means. “Holy . . . shit.”
APOLLO
Not all the visions are lovely, but this one? Gods, she is. Always. The only thing I wish I saw in this nightmare I can’t escape from. I bask in the phantom sensation of her hand sliding along the side of my face. She isn’t real, yet I swear it’s almost real.
“God, you’re burning up. It’s worse than ever.” Her dark eyes flash with concern, but it’s that glorious, ebony skin that I can’t draw my eyes away from. That face that seems to be carved by the Muses themselves. “Tell me, what should I do? How do I stop this?”
“You said you’d never leave me, even when I die,” I rasp to this exotic, oh so sweet hallucination that’s haunted me for years now.
Her glare is defiant; her angry pout delicious. What I wouldn’t give to truly be able to taste those luscious lips.
Her sleek black hair falls like a curtain over us both as she leans closer. “You’re not dying. I’m not—Jesus you’re getting even hotter!”
As is expected. This was building for eons. Banked powers left to rot in me have changed into something lethal. A detonation I can no longer hold back. “I love you. I know th-this isn’t real, but you might be the only thing I ever truly loved. D-don’t forget that,” I stutter, teeth chattering.
Ah, gods. The time has come. The end. I can no longer take the burn. Have held it back long enough.
The vision is taken from me, as it usually is, leaving me to face the truth.
The putrid cell I’ve been imprisoned in since my pantheon fell.
Since the most ancient of living gods stormed Olympus to make us all pay for our hubris.
I’ll never forget the original God of Fate, eyes blazing metallic blue, demanding that his brother do this to me . . .
It’s not like I didn’t have it coming.
We all did.
Zeus and every one of his toxic relatives.
The light blasts the left side of my face. I cringe in preparation for my death, yet that’s not what arrives. Lowering my hand, I blink weakly at the figure circling around me.
Small.
Feminine.
Encompassed by said light.
She stops between my bent legs. “Look at you, God of the Sun. Finally ready for your metamorphoses.”
“Wh-what?”
“It’s time for you to leave this form behind. Are you ready?”
“I’ve been ready to die for a very long time.” The only thing I’ll always regret is that my beautiful Melody wasn’t real. That I could never truly experience what being with someone so amazing was like.
“Dying . . . yes, I guess you could call it that. You’re leaving this half before to unite with your other half out there. And once you do, you’ll be ready to join the war.”
“War? Against who? On what side?” When am I going to learn to stop interacting with these specters conjured by my broken mind?
“The side fighting against your fucking father. That side.”
Any mention of my father sparks rage.
Disgust.
He made me into this. He made everyone of us into the monsters we became. Our choices might’ve been our own but ,ultimately, he reared us into the self-destructive assholes we became.
“Would love to hurt my father,” I mumble. I’ll never get the chance, though.
“Oh, you will. You’re going to help me finally put him and his like in their place. Now, Apollo, are you ready to become something more than you’ve been?”
I squint into the light, yet I can only see her long hair and the shape of her body. “Who are you?”
A melodic laugh follows, and I’m reminded of my Melody once more.
Gorgeous, exotic Melody with her sweet voice.
“Oh, dear boy. I can’t tell you what I am, but I can tell you what I do. I watch everything. More than you can ever imagine. And I need you to accept your new Fate, Apollo, so that this misery can finally end.”
Misery ending.
Dear gods, it almost brings tears to my eyes. A bittersweet relief that suffocates me. “Yes. Whatever you want. I accept it. Just let it be over now.”
“Finally. Brace yourself, Sun Boy. This is going to burn like nothing you’ve ever felt before.” She disappears.
Then, all that’s left is the agony to outdo all others, the searing of my organs and bones from within.
Light. So much light. More than the sun itself. More than a million suns combined . . .
The final thing I hear before it consumes me entirely is a voice that sounds suspiciously like my brother Herakles screaming my name.
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Dyletri shakes his head and steps away from me. “No. I need you to stay back. I’m serious, Ismini. Stay back!”
His energy throbs through the air around me, hypnotizing and drawing me closer.
“There’s something wrong with you. You’ve been looking sick for days. ” Please, just tell me you’re okay. I’ll force myself to leave somehow . . . just say you’re all right.
I stop in front of him. Past the point of rational thought, I raise my hand and place it on his shoulder.
The world around me blurs.
I hear air rushing by.
My front is pressed against a wall. The same wall Dyletri had just been standing in front of.
A large hand palms the back of my neck.
I gasp out into the night.
A massive body pushes into me from behind, a hard ridge sliding up and down the crack of my ass.
I jerk, small gasps leaving me repeatedly.
An animal is at my back, all snarls and rotating hips and a deliciously hard cock.
&nbs
p; Dyletri pulls back and suddenly my pants are tugged down, baring my ass to the air.
“I-I . . . Oh God, I’m going to come.”
“Fuck yes, you are,” a demon’s voice answers behind me.
He comes close again and—
A wet, soft yet hard object slides over my ass cheek.
Another demonic sound echoes out into the night.
It’s his cock. He’s fisting it, rubbing it across my ass.
“This cock wants you so bad, little one.”
I choke on his name as I start to come.
He falls on me from behind, thrusting almost frantically against my ass. His hand pushes into my pants. His fingers slide along my wet, pulsating pussy.
I scream out his name, hips churning.
“That’s it. Perfect. Wet. This cunt is going to feel so good milking my cock. Fuck little one, you’re making me come. It’s been so long. Take this dick. Own it.”
I want to; I’ll give anything to have it.
Dyletri licks my ear and moves down to tongue my jaw. His fist slams into the wall next to my head, cracking it.
His body tenses, as if he’s fighting not to move.
His roar is so loud it almost frightens me.
His dick jerks on my ass, hot liquid splashing all over my skin.
His cum.
I start coming on his fingers all over again, my pussy so hungry for every single drop.
He removes his hand from my pussy. I hear him licking his fingers behind me, a sexy hum vibrating in his throat.
“Fucking perfect. I can’t wait to eat your pussy all up.”
Jesus . . . Fucking . . . Christ.
Dyletri leans closer, his face nuzzling my hair.
I’m barely holding on to my sanity. “Dyletri.”
He punches the wall again, making me jump. Out of the corner of my eye, I see even more cracks spreading out from where his fingers are.
And light. More than I’ve ever seen coming out of him. Every individual vein on the back of his hand is glowing.
Dyletri murmurs my name in a reverent tone. “Ismini . . .”
I hear the stone besides my head crack some more. Hear the stone railing to my left fracturing as well. “Ismini . . . stop me. Tell me to stop.”
“No,” I whisper. “I don’t want to.”
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