Page 139 of Crown of Olympus
The dream did not.
I twisted the cold, golden faucet, letting icy water rush out. Cupping my hands beneath the stream, I leaned in to splash it on my face, gaze snagging on my reflection in the polished glass.
The woman staring back held a haunted look in her bright green eyes. Her brows were creased in the middle as she watched a droplet of water fall from the end of her slightly upturned nose. I leaned closer, scouring her pupils for any sign of evil. But none stared back.
It was just me.
Was this what the prophecy meant? That I would lose myself to the dark nature of my powers and conquer the realms purely because I could?
Would that not make me no better than a Titan?
Should I not also be kept in a cage deep within Tartarus, if only to prevent the devastation I now knew I was capable of?
A shiver tore down my spine. Suddenly, I was freezing. I padded back down the hall toward my bedroom when I heard voices drifting up the stairs. Male voices.
I crept down the winding spiral staircase, pausing outside the living room doors, which had been left ajar. Firelight threwdancing shadows into the hallway as I hovered in the alcove, silent.
“She doesn’t remember that.” Charon said.
Who doesn’t remember what?
“Do you think they’ll try again during tomorrow’s trial?” Charon asked, his tone pitched low.
A deep voice replied, too indistinct to make out from my hiding place.
Charon spoke again. “And how do you propose to protect her? They’ll be coming for her with everything they’ve got!”
The sound of glass colliding with wood rang out. “They’ll come for all of us.”
Silence.
Then—
“Are you going to lurk in the hallway all night, Nightshade?”
I straightened with a snap, just as Charon threw the doors wide. Surprise lifted his brows into his unruly mop of hair. I strolled past him guiltily, drifting over to the tempting heat of the fireplace.
Caelus’ stare burned a hole in the side of my face until I met his gaze head on. He sat inmyfavourite armchair, dressed in brown leather battle armour, his sword, Ceraunos, resting across his lap.
An empty glass on the table beside him indicated he’d been here for at least one drink. Though, judging by the way Charon loped back to his own seat, it had been at least four. On Charon’s part, anyway — and I knew he didn’t enjoy drinking alone.
“What are you doing here?” I forced strength into my voice, attempting to disguise the fact that I’d been screaming mere minutes ago.
Caelus’ metallic eyes scoured my face, frowning at the still-visible bruises.
“We need to talk,” he said softly.
“About what?”
Silence.
I turned to Charon. He shrugged.
“You know,” I began, eyes flicking between them, “with only the firelight to see by, you two could quite easily pass as brothers.”
Caelus’ brows twitched, taking in Charon’s blonde hair — only a few shades darker than his own — their similar height, angular jawline. Charon just frowned.
I shrugged. “Or not. You don’t have the same eyes.”
