Page 55 of Crown of Serpents

“Athena guided me in my search to find you when —”

“When you set out to kill me,” Medusa finished for him, her voice laced with bitterness.

“I don’t know what else to do.”

Medusa's mind raced. How could he ask her to visit Athena’s temple? Out of all the Olympians, why did they have to seekhercounsel?

“Please. Let’s at least ask for her guidance, and depending on what she says, you can still reconsider whether you want to come to Seriphos or not. I’ll buy you safe passage anywhere, but please, let us try.”

Against her better judgment, Medusa relented, “Fine.”

Perseus looked at her with such intensity that she felt her cheeks warm. Gratitude shone on his face, and he seemed to resist the urge to sweep her into a hug and whirl around him.

“Was that all, godling?” She asked in the mocking tone she reserved for him.

“That would be all, milady.” Perseus bowed, a crooked grin spreading on his lips.

Medusa retreated with swift steps. She couldn’t wait to return to the safety of her chamber — his chamber — and bang her head against the wooden wall for her stupidity. Andromeda’s constant desire to help others must have rubbed off on her. Why else would she agree to return to Athena's temple – even if it was not the one on Aegina? For the second time, she had chosen to help this man over her freedom. Something was definitely wrong with her.

She almost reached the stairs when Perseus added, “It was nice seeing you on deck today … hearing you laugh. It’s the most wonderful sound.”

She didn’t respond, heart thundering in her chest as she descended the steps. Closing the heavy door behind her, she cursed that wretched heart that had stayed mortal even as the rest of her had turned into a monster. She would accompany Perseus to the temple, let him plead to the cruel goddess, and when Athena refused to help — and she surely would — Medusa could still run. Perhaps she would even confront her former mistress and demand answers for her abandonment all those years ago. If she dared to face her.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Medusa froze, her eyes wide with alarm at the sight of the two horses before them. Perseus nearly bumped into her as she stopped dead in her tracks. He had purchased the animals to expedite their journey to Athena’s temple to avoid the three-day trek slowing them down. Given the looming autumn equinox, he had thought it a good idea. Whatever they decided, they needed to be swift if Perseus wanted to save his mother from Polydectes’s clutches. Medusa seemed to disagree with his decision, mortification written across her face as she refused to approach her mount.

“What in Hades are those?” she scowled at Perseus through her veil.

Perseus couldn't help but chuckle. This woman, who had torn through warriors and faced down a sea serpent, was now seemingly intimidated by a pair of gentle-eyed mares.

“They’re called horses, Medusa. We, mortals, ride them or use them to pull chariots for faster travel.”

Medusa’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “I know what horses are, godling. But what made you think thatIwould ride a horse?” Her voice dropped, a hollow echo of its former strength, “They can’t stand me… not since my transformation.”

Indeed, the two mares seemed to be just as uneasy as Medusa. Their eyes widened with fear, and they whinnied, their hooves pawing at the ground, recognising the predator she was.

Medusa still had not moved, cautious not to scare the skittish animals. Perseus’s stomach dropped as he understood the wistful expression on her face. It was the same look she had when he had brought up Athena, the goddess Medusa had once served before she cursed her. Regret and grief seemed to consume her during those moments, making Perseus wonder about the life she had led before becoming the bane of the Aegean Sea. He did not like it when she looked like that.

“We can share one,” he offered gently. “I'll keep her calm. She won't bolt.”

His offer was sincere, but he couldn’t suppress a grin when he saw the sour look on her face.

He gripped the reins of the larger horse, gently stroking its muzzle to calm the nervous animal. Extending a hand toward Medusa, he raised an eyebrow in challenge. “I promise it won’t bite.”

Still, she didn’t budge, folding her arms. It was evident that the only thing Medusa wanted less than riding a horse was sharing a mount with Perseus.

“Either we ride, or we walk to Kameiros, but I would advise against that given our time constraints and your healing leg.”

She glanced down at that, mind obviously racing, cursing the injured leg that was still wobbly beneath her —and probably cursing him for pointing out her weakness. Hesitantly, Medusa stepped toward him. The mare next to Perseus fidgeted nervously, but he held the reigns tight, stroking the soft fur of its neck. She reluctantly took his hand, her touch cold against his skin, her gaze a silent threat. “The horse may not bite, but if you let me fall, you’ll find out thatIdo.”

He grinned at the thought of her canines sinking into his flesh. “Is that a promise or a threat?”

To his surprise, a laugh bubbled from her lips, a sound so unexpected and melodious it left him momentarily breathless.

He helped her on the horse’s back, its whinnies of protest quieted by his soothing murmurs. Then he swung himself up behind her, engulfing her with his arms. He resisted the urge to lean closer, carefully maintaining distance between them as he spurred the mare. Still,the warmth of Medusa's body seeped through his tunic, and the intoxicating scent of poppies and sea salt clung filled his nose.

They rode past the golden fields, ripe for harvest, hooves thundering against the cracked earth. A forest of deep greens loomed in the distance as their mount carried them toward the island’s heart. The morning sun was still on the rise, the breeze fresh against Perseus’s skin as they galloped toward the temple of Athena, the song of the cicadas spurring them on.

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