Page 4 of Scion of Chaos

“Here it comes!” Pan yells. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” And I can’t help but wonder if it’s a warning to her, or to us. But we are all lost to the moment, helpless in this ecstatic grasp.

I briefly lose contact with my brother when it takes me, and when I reclaim control of my senses and reach out, he’s already sent the faun back home and is alone with the girl. He has her back pressed to the mattress, now an awkward, crooked mess on the floor. I hover in the recesses of his mind, waiting to see what he will do, ready in case the trap springs shut.

But nothing happens. He heaves a breath, marveling at the creature beneath him.

“What did you do with him?” she asks.

“I sent him back where he belongs before he could finish mating you. He has to answer for what he’s done. His error could destroy the world, and I’m the one who has to pick up the pieces. I’m sorry we can’t stay.”

He rises, leaving her naked and flushed. Broken things crackle beneath his feet, and he holds his hands out, drawing all the chaos that lingers in the air back into himself.

Nemea rises to a sitting position, shaking her head frantically. “I need answers! He said I had chaos in my veins. What does that even mean?”

Sadness washes through us, resignation over the need to leave to attend to the mess awaiting us back home. “To me, it means you’re perfect,” Tartarus answers. “But it’s better if you forget. You’ll be safe here inside the barrier of fate magic. The rest of the world won’t be so lucky if I don’t fix Pan’s fuck-up.”

I keep watch, stretching my awareness out in search of any potential threats, but find only the static bubble of fate magic that shrouds the island. Its purpose is to keep out any creature who isn’t meant to be here… who isn’tfatedto set foot on the island. Which means if we are here, somehow Fate has wrapped their threads around us.

It should frighten me to realize my creator’s enemy has somehow found a way to control us, but after what just happened, I’m not scared—I feel more alive than ever.

Tartarus tuts a warning.“We cannot have her… at least not yet. If we can leave this place under our own power, we must. We have work to do, and she will be safe if she remains here.”

“What if she follows? What if she draws us to her again the way she somehow pulled Pan to her? Is she the reason the gates were shattered?”

“That, I don’t know. I don’t believe her power is strong enough to break me. The Titans could have broken the doors if they were working together, though.”

Beneath his words, I sense a thread of doubt. She could break him. She could break us all. So I agree with his decision to leave her behind… for now.

He rounds the bed and bends over her one last time, tilting her chin up with one finger, then presses a slow kiss to her mouth. I close my eyes and savor her softness. Then he gazes into her eyes, pushing a small measure of power out to cloud her memories.

“Forget us, Nemea. We are nothing but a fever dream that your awakening power summoned. Learn to harness the chaos inside you, and you’ll be more powerful than you can imagine.”

Then, with an arcane crackle, we retreat all the way back to the prison and right into the middle of the fray.

3

Nemea

Wet. Cold. Ugh.

It’s a hell of a way to wake fromthemost erotic dream I’ve ever had. I don’t really want to open my eyes—I want to sink back into that sensation of being touched all over—but something’s poking me in the shoulder, and it’s starting to hurt. My nipples tingle and my thighs ache, and the sense of having been fucked stupid lingers when I open my eyes.

At first I’m disoriented, because the world just lookswrong. There’s a doorway in front of me, but the wall that should be around it is gone, giving me a view of the mist-shrouded redwoods’ sun-gilt edges, their golden hue burnishing as the sun sinks farther behind the trees.

I sit up and something beneath me creaks. Pieces of my day creep back in, the events in a jumble, but only one event matters. I look down at my lap where the dark, solid shape of the obsidian dildo I sculpted rests, glowing faintly purple in the dim light.

It was midnight when I started my ritual. What time is it now?

Looking around,everythingis wrong.

“What the actualfuck?”

The quaint little cabin, which has felt like the perfect sanctuary these past few days while I worked up the nerve to try summoning a god, is justgone. I’m sitting in the middle of what remains of the rough-hewn wooden bed, amidst the rubble of what used to be a building. It’s nothing but broken logs, splintered shingles, and piles of rotting pine needles now. A dense marine layer is rolling in, all but obliterating what promises to be a spectacular sunset. I’m gradually being covered in a layer of chilly moisture, but the heavy stone phallus still feels warm against my body.

I scowl down at it. There’s no god in sight, so obviously the ritual failed. I’m no closer to learning what flavor of higher races blood is mixed with my humanity. Butsomethingsure as fuck happened here.

The other thing that’s all wrong is the time of day. I’m lookingwestat an orange sky that’s darkening by the second. It should be dawn; I started the ritual at midnight—if you can call masturbating with a magic dildo at midnight a ritual, that is. The dream has all but completely faded, the sense of having beenwithsomeone unshakable. The musky scent of sex covers me, but the dildo is clean.

Because I washed it… didn’t I?

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