Page 160 of Crown of Olympus
A heavy weight upon my brow.
I grimaced at Charon, who was leaning intently over his knees, raptly scanning for the crown’s whereabouts. I almost missed the split-second of a glint above my best friend’s golden hair.
My eyes widened.
The crown had put Charon in contention, however briefly, even without a bloody offering.
Any chance to question it was stolen as a familiar, heavy weight settled atop my head with a sense of finality.
Judging by the gasps of horror and the two dozen sets of eyes boring holes into my face, I guessed the Crown of Olympus had made its decision.
Me.
Vel? I whispered.
She answered not with words, but with an image — me, my disbelieving face, and a head that bore not one, but two crowns. The golden Crown of Olympus nestled snugly between the smoky spires of the Shadow Crown — as if the two were always intended to be worn together.
Apollo approached slowly, hesitantly, as though I were a creature he might spook. The sun god firmly squeezed my hands, dropped to a knee, and pressed a gentle kiss to my fingers. He let go to sign a single phrase, awe etched into every line of his face.
But its bearer must be death.
One by one, every god and goddess present sank to the floor and dipped their heads. Even the beasts bowed.
It was an uncomfortable kind of respect. I hated it. I especially hated that Caelus was among them — even knowing he was wholly content to do so.
I strode purposefully to where he knelt, my boots clacking against the marble floors, and softly grasped the base of his chin, tilting it upwards.
“Never again,” I commanded softly, voice low and even. “You bow to no one.”
I withdrew my hand, relieved when he followed it to stand. He tenderly placed each scarred, calloused hand on either side of my face and leaned in close.
“I bow only to you. My Queen.Mywoman.”
A whoop of cheer came from Aros’ direction as Caelus dragged my lips to his.
I didn’t care that we had an audience, didn’t care what they made of it.
He deepened the kiss, and I fell into it — into him — wholeheartedly and eagerly, knowing that I was in love with him and those same golden feelings were echoing down the bond back to me.
He loves me too.
A metallic clink tore me from my reverie just as Caelus shoved me backwards hard. I crashed into Aros, who grunted as he caught me. A sharp pain flared in my heart.
My gaze snapped back to Caelus, just in time to witness Hera’s face morph from malice to horror; just in time to see Caelus’ mouth part in shock as his eyes flicked down to his chest.
And to the bronze dagger now protruding from it.
Hera screamed as Caelus fell to the floor with a jarring thud. I fell beside him a moment later, barely registering the sting in my knees.
“No,” I whispered.
He stared up at me, the silver swirling in his irises slowing.
“No, no, no, no, no, no.”
Golden ichor dribbled from his perfect mouth — a mouth that had claimed mine just seconds ago.
“Don’t you dare leave me,” I sobbed, fingers fluttering over his face, his chest, desperate to land in a way that mattered.
