Page 92 of Crown of Serpents

He let out a whimper, his lip trembling, as she circled him. A wet stain spread across his crotch.

“Do you plan to avenge your king’s wretched existence still? Or … will you beg Perseus for his forgiveness and pledge your loyalty to the man who freed Seriphos from Polydectes’s tyrannical rule?”

The guard fell to his knees instantly, as did several of the noblemen. They all cowered on the ground, gazes lowered, begging for mercy at Medusa’s feet. She was magnificent, her snakes wild, and her face splattered with blood that was not hers. Perseus had to resist the urge to kneel before her himself.

Instead, he stood firm. This was not right. He had meant that he wanted to free his home from tyranny. He did not intend to rule Seriphos. He would not start this new era by making these men beg for their lives at anyone’s feet — even at Medusa’s. “That’s enough. You may rise again.”

Medusa’s gaze snapped to his, confusion filling her eyes. Perseus shook his head, and her shoulders slackened. He was not a conqueror. He did not want to have that kind of power. He did not want to be feared like his father.

Perseus continued, his voice steadier now, “Polydectes’s rule has ended! There will be no more violence today. Leave this palace so we may all mourn our dead. Leave and be grateful that the mighty Medusa has spared you!”

Slowly, the remaining nobles rose to their feet, backing away toward the door. Perseus watched as they lifted the giant beam together, careful to keep their eyes lowered to the ground. Only when the last figure vanished did Perseus move. He lurched forward and wrapped his arms around Medusa, burying his face in her neck, inhaling the familiar scent of poppies and sea salt.

They did it. They had triumphed against all odds. She hadcome back for him, and she had saved them all. Perseus whirled Medusa through the air as the realization sunk in.

When he finally let go, his mother rushed for him, flinging her arms around him. The tears had already dried from her hazel eyes, which were now shining with pride.

The words were soft on her lips when Danae breathed, “Perseus … you’re home —”

He wrapped her petite figure in his arms. She was alive. She was safe.

Blind with happiness and relief, he was oblivious to the noises of gurgling water behind him, of flesh knitting itself back together.

Perseus turned to Medusa, ready to finally confess his feelings to her, but when he looked into her ocean-green eyes, the triumphant smile instantly vanished from his face. They did not shine with relief and happiness but were filled with sorrow and grief.

She opened and closed her mouth as if struggling for words but could not find the right ones.

“What happened?”

Medusa’s lip quivered slightly, and her complexion turned a sickly green as if she had smelled something foul.

Indeed, a breeze carried the scent of the sea through the open window behind them. The room suddenly smelled like seaweed and … and something else.

Perseus put a comforting hand on her arm. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

She opened her mouth again, but before she could explain, water exploded all around them. A giant wave rushed inside the room, throwing Perseus to the ground.

He coughed, spitting out the salt water. What in Hades?

When Perseus lifted his gaze, Medusa’s eyes were wide in terror as she looked behind Perseus. A wall of water blocked the exit to the megaron. With trembling knees, Perseus turned to face the figure that had emerged at his back.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

Medusa had smelled him before the wall of water had crashed down, trapping them in the throne room. The stench of seaweed and rusty bronze made her stomach churn.

She stared in horror at where Polydectes’s corpse had been. Rather than lying in a puddle of his blood, he stood resurrected in front of his throne, his flesh knit back together and water swirling around him.

Only he was not Polydectes anymore. Medusa recoiled at the sight of his formerly deep brown eyes suddenly glowing in the most vibrant turquoise, shimmering like pools of water. His gaze raked over her body as a sneer spread on his immortal face. He grew in size, his bronze skin shimmering with sea mist so bright that Medusa had to avert her gaze. Poseidon held the symbol of his godly power, a giant trident. Its shaft was adorned with seashells and corals, but the sharp prongs glinted in the moonlight, promising a painful death.

The god of the sea cocked his head as he sat upon the thronethat magically adjusted to the size of its new master. Even though his voice was silken-smooth — a lover’s purr —, the earth trembled beneath Medusa’s feet as his words echoed through the megaron. “I see you are causing problems again, little titan. I must say, killing all these mortals for my attention is rather desperate.” He clucked his tongue as if scolding a stubborn child. “I’m afraid I have to put an end to your antics, even if we are old friends.”

Poseidon’s words fuelled a storm within Medusa, his voice sending shivers down her spine. Fire and ice were fighting for control over her body. Even though the burning need for retribution made her snakes coil and hiss, she remained frozen as dark waves of her past crashed over her head.

Distantly, she heard Perseus’s muffled cry, “GO, MEDUSA! Take my mother and GO! I’ll hold him off!“

Tears lined her eyes as she beheld him, raising his sword in challenge to the immortal god towering above. Perseus was a mighty warrior, his strength and speed making him unmatched among mortals, but he looked like a child next to Poseidon’s imposing frame brimming with power.

Medusa’s feet remained rooted. She was caught in the light of Poseidon’s turquoise eyes, his stare pinning her in place. All she could do was stare into the beautiful and cruel face that had haunted her nightmares.

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