Page 72 of Crown of Serpents

“You are not ruined, Medusa.”

No man, not even an Olympic god, could ruin a woman as strong and fearless as her.

“I was. I broke my oath of chastity, so I could no longer serve as Athena’s priestess. Even worse, I had defiled my goddess’s sacred sanctuary …”

He pulled her to his chest. “But it wasn’t your fault …”

“That didn’t matter to Athena,” Medusa interrupted him, her voice growing aggravated. “It had happened beneath her altar, and so she saw Poseidon’s violation as an insult againsther… and she …”

“She cursed you to become a gorgon,” Perseus finished her sentence, realising Athena’s betrayal.

A lump grew in Perseus’ throat. He had dragged Medusa along to see the goddess that had forsaken her. Why had she gone with him?

“I believed that she sought to take away … what she thought was most precious to me … my beauty. She turned me into a deadly monster, cursed to kill anyone that looks into my eyes, so I could never … never attract another man.”

“What do you believe now?”

“I-I’m not sure what her intentions were. But by transforming me into … this, she did take away what was most dear to me … my home. The priestesses were my family, but when they saw me … still lying on the marble floor and turned into a hideous beast … they chased me from the temple.”

Only then did Perseus understand what Medusa had truly lost. Poseidon had not only violated her body. He had taken her home, the sanctuary she had fled to escape his grasp, and the only real family she had ever known, changing her so she might never return to the embrace of her fellow priestesses.

“You are not alone anymore, Medusa.”

He did not know what else to say. What had happened to her was unspeakable. And in truth, Perseus was not sure whether he could do anything to help her overcome this trauma. Could this type of wound ever heal? He didn’t know, but he would be there for her. She would never have to endure her nightmares, panic, and anger on her own again. He would accompany her on this journey for as long as she wanted him to.

Silence stretched between them, an eternity marked only by the rhythmic rise and fall of their chest. He traced patterns in her hair, her tears soaking into his shirt.

Slowly, her shoulders stilled, her breath evening out. They drifted to sleep, entwined, their embrace a haven from the gathering storm outside the cabin walls.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Medusa stood on deck, her emerald hair flying in the wind. Andromeda huddled beside her, shivering and cursing the cold northern gales. After a week at sea, Perseus was finally training the crew for their plan to overthrow Polydectes. Her eyes followed the warrior, tracing his determined gaze, his flexed jaw.

The wind carried his scent, thyme and leather, reminding her of how his kisses had set her skin on fire a few nights ago. Perseus had held her afterwards until her tears had dried, and she fell asleep. She had allowed herself to be vulnerable in his embrace, but he had snuck out once dawn had crested the horizon. They had set sail that morning, and Perseus had kept his distance since. Occasionally, she caught him glancing in her direction, longing burning in his hazel eyes.

Was he avoiding her? Her stomach tightened. Had her panic attack frightened him more than he'd let on? Or was it the relentless autumn storms? Ever since Rhodos, the sea seemed to battle them. The wind had changed direction, and the sails, oncebillowing gracefully, were now taut and strained, fighting against the relentless gusts that pushed them off course. Waves crashed against the hull, rocking the ship back and forth, so small compared to the endless expanse of the Aegean Sea. It was as if the elements trying to prevent them from returning to Seriphos.

Time was running against them. They needed to reach the island before the equinox — and before word reached Polydectes. If Linus had survived and returned to Seriphos before them, their ambush would fail.

So, Perseus and his crew rowed relentlessly, day and night, tacking against the wind. Each inch was a struggle, the strain evident in the dark circles under Perseus's eyes.

Now, he stood at the centre of the ship, a gleaming sword in hand. Today was the first day the sun had appeared between the brooding clouds, its warmth casting a golden hue over the deck.

“Men,” Perseus began, addressing the gathered crew. His eyes scanned the crowd until they met hers, and he added, “And ladies, of course. We are headed for Seriphos, where we plan to seize the palace. I will not lie to you … that won’t be easy. Polydectes’s guards are well-trained, while many of you have never held a sword. But we will change that today. Orestes, Kleos, and I will whip you into shape, so we are a worthy match!”

The sailors exchanged wary glances. Orestes smiled grimly, worry clouding his gaze. Only Kleos seemed at ease, casually swinging his weapon. Medusa rolled her eyes when she noticed how he began flexing his muscles when Andromeda glanced in his direction — lovesick fool.

“To demonstrate, I need a volunteer.”

Before anyone else could, Medusa stepped into the circle. “I’ll spar with you, Perseus. Let’s see if you can still teach me something.”

A seductive smile curved her lips. He couldn’t avoid her now.

He cocked his head, “Confident in your sword fighting, are you?”

“I am.”

“And I thought you preferred hand-to-hand combat.”

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