Page 94 of Crown of Serpents

It was Medusa’s turn to grin in triumph as Poseidon attempted to pull away from her clutches. She held him in place, forcing him to look at her for a few seconds longer before he smashed her head against the stone, breaking free in a panic. The god twisted out of her grasp, stumbling backwards, knocking over the throne, his eyes wild as he beheld Medusa crouching on the floor. Poseidon glanced at his weapon still stuck in Perseus’ chest, hesitating, but Medusa let out a low warning growl. The mighty god flinched, then bolted. He jumped out the window, where a giant wave surged to swallow him whole.

Medusa watched him vanish, a triumphant smile curling herlips, for she understood what the terror in Poseidon’s eyes had meant. She had petrified an Olympian god — or at least his favourite part. If not for his cowardly retreat, she would have been able to kill him, turning the god of the seas into an eternal monument to his own hubris.

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

Medusa scrambled for Perseus, nearly tripping over her torn dress as she sank to her knees at his side. Her head was still ringing from the power drain, her ribs battered and bruised, but all of that was forgotten as she beheld Perseus. His breath came ragged as he groaned in pain. Poseidon’s trident was buried deep in his chest, blood pooling around them, staining the marble floor crimson.

A sob escaped Medusa’s throat. It was her fault. He had the blow meant for her. If only she hadn't frozen ...

Perseus coughed blood, his body twisting. She had to get the trident out and stop the bleeding. Why hadn’t Danae returned with Andromeda yet?

Perseus’s face paled, his lifeblood seeping away. She could not wait any longer. With trembling hands, Medusa grasped the shaft of the trident, the celestial bronze burning in her hands. She hissed and pulled, a sickening wet sound echoing against the walls as she removed the weapon and threw it to the ground. Blood gushed forth, a relentless tide. Medusa pressed her hands to the wound, the warmth of his life seeping between her fingers. She cursed the gods. Medusa would not let Perseus die. He couldn’t. He — he promised he would come back to her. He promised she would not be alone anymore.

Tears blurred her vision as panic and desperation began to surge. She ripped at her tattered dress, pressing the fabric against the wound. The linen turned crimson instantly. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Medusa,” Perseus croaked, “look at me.”

Medusa shook her head, tears dripping from her chin. She couldn’t. She was not wearing a veil. She would not lose him like this.

Perseus cupped her cheek, his hand trembling and cold. “Please, I want to look into your eyes … at least once.”

She whimpered, understanding what his words meant. It wasn’t fair. Yet, for once, she wasn’t filled with fury. The hiss of her snakes had retreated, her wet hair hanging drab in her face. They had abandoned her, alone with her grief.

Medusa lifted her head. Their gazes met, the dimming light in his hazel eyes sending ripples of emotion through her. But seconds later, his body remained unchanged, his skin ashen but still soft beneath her touch. Her breath hitched. He hadn’t turned to stone...

A weak smile spread across Perseus’s face, triumph glimmering in his eyes as if he knew he could survive her gaze. “You … are so beautiful, Medusa. Thank you for –”

“No!” She couldn’t bear his farewell. „You — you promised we’d win … you promised …”

He tugged a strand of hair behind her ear. “We did win. We saved my mother, you defeated Poseidon —” Perseus’s breath rattled as he struggled to continue, but she could see the pride shining on his face. “And now, I … I get to die in your arms, knowing you’re safe. I can’t think of a better end.”

Medusa shook her head, her lips trembling.

“I love you, Medusa.”

His words pierced her heart, a painful echo of her own unspoken feelings. She had fallen for Perseus, irrevocably. Hehad healed her fractured soul, allowing her to see beyond her hatred and rage, which made her want to set the world ablaze and dance in its ashes. Perseus had torn down her protective walls, allowing her to be vulnerable in his arms. He was hers, and now she finally realised that she was his too — until his last breath.

Before Medusa could reply, she felt the air shift behind her. The otherworldly presence sent shivers down her spine as a silver glow illuminated the room.

Medusa didn’t have to turn to recognise the cold, smooth voice behind her, “Tragedy always follows when a hero falls in love,” Athena said.

Medusa whirled, snakes uncoiling and hissing. She snarled at the goddess, who had interrupted the precious moments she had left with Perseus.

To her surprise, Athena flinched, averting her gaze.

“What do you want? To finish what Poseidon couldn’t?”

She didn’t have the time or energy for another Olympian to interfere with her fate — not as she felt Perseus fade in her arms. Medusa shielded him with her body.

Athena glanced at the bleeding Perseus. “Be at ease, young one. I come to help,” she said, her voice devoid of warmth. “You fulfilled your bargain. Let me bestow my blessing upon you both, restore the hero’s life, and lift your curse.”

Medusa blinked, suspicion warring with desperate hope. “Why heal him? That wasn't our deal.”

Athena shifted uneasily, her typically imperious facade cracking. “Let me help you, child. I can make you mortal again. Surrender your power to me, and … you two can finally be together.”

It was what Medusa had dreamed of these past weeks. Even before Perseus had told her how he felt, she had longed to look into his eyes, kiss him freely, laugh with Andromeda, and walk among the crew without worrying that she might hurt them. And yet — relinquishing her powers would not turn her back into the young girl she once was. She looked at her bloodied hands. It would not erase what she had done, change who she had become. It would only make her weak again.

But if that was the price for Perseus’s life? She would sacrificeanythingto keep him at her side — but only if there was no other way.

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