Page 82 of Crown of Olympus
“At the time, I was desired by another.” She twisted in her seat to look directly at Aros. “Your father. Ares. He was jealous that I did not reciprocate his feelings. That I had chosen aninsignificant mortalinstead of a god,” she spat humourlessly, her tone deepening to mimic his.
“Ares sent a wild boar after Adonis. It chased him. Hunted him. Relentlessly. And in the end, the boar struck true, gored Adi with its huge tusks. The same tusks, I hear, that are now mounted upon your walls.”
Aros’ eyes slowly widened in horror.
“I had no idea…”
“Because your father was embarrassed. He believed he had been slighted. And because you—you’ve spent as most of your time avoiding him,” she said knowingly, as a blush crept across Aros’ cheeks. Aphrodite turned back to me.
“You found me along the river that day because I had begged to receive an audience with Hades and was denied. The Ferryman would not grant me passage. So, I did all that I could for my lost love. I paid for Adi’s safe passage to the gates. To this day, I have no idea where he was sentenced. No idea if I will see him again when I die.”
“I can locate his soul for you, Aph,” I offered.
She met my eyes, her own sparkling with a tentative kind of hope.
“Being a death-wielder occasionally comes with a few perks, too” I said with a soft laugh, a pitiful attempt at lightening the mood. “Come on. You can tell me all about him, if you’d like.”
Aphrodite nodded, grabbed the half-empty bottle of pomegranate wine and joined me by the window. And as the minutes passed, she told me the story of how a mortal had captured a goddess’s heart and how his death had shattered it.
CHAPTER 24
Caelus
“Ready for another round?”
Charon shuffled the deck lazily, with the ease of someone who’d done it a thousand times before. He didn’t even watch his hands, choosing instead to observe the gods who had unwittingly wandered into his domain. He doled out the cards with a flick of his fingers, and as I reached to scoop mine up, our hands clashed with a minute static jolt.
“Sorry about that,” I murmured.
He eyed me curiously before muttering, “Don’t mention it.”
I was beginning to suspect the pomegranate wine had had less of an effect on him than he let on. His eyes were sharp — assessing. He paid especially close attention to Nyssa and how each of us interacted with her, beasts included. His posturing suggested he was ready to jump up and protect her at a moment’s notice.
Good.
What is she to him? Are they just friends, like they say?
I sent the thought down the bond to the wolf lying beside my chair, his large form blocking most of the fire’s heat.
I believe them, Lykos sent back.Their scents are intertwined, but there is no deception in their manner.
I studied the goddesses at the window, their profiles as different as night and day. Aphrodite was undeniably beautiful with her sun-kissed skin, sea blue eyes, and long blonde hair. But it was Nyssa who captivated me. She had bewitched me from the moment I’d laid eyes on her at seven years old. I found it hard to look elsewhere when we shared the same room, the same air.
She sat on the window seat, wrapped in a rare moment of ease, her guard seemingly down within these four walls. Her long legs were tucked to her chest, one arm draped gracefully around them, the other cradling a glass of wine that sloshed gently as she spoke. Her long hair, having been released from its usual braid hours ago, cascaded in loose waves down to her waist, and her pale skin gleamed softly in the starlight, as though crafted from the glittering sky itself.
If I didn’t know better, I’d assume she was Nyx reborn — the primordial goddess of night. But I did know better. I knew she wielded death as easily as I did storms. Most feared her for that ability alone. And then there was her bloodline — daughter ofHades, the most feared god in all the realms. A name we barely spoke, lest we conjure him to claim our souls.
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at her,” a voice whispered startlingly close to my ear. My head whipped around, almost headbutting the god who’d spoken.
Charon held my gaze firmly, clearly not as intoxicated as he’d led us to believe.
Clever.
Indeed,Lykos replied.The slippery one has lulled you all into a false sense of security, plying you with drink and banter to loosen your tongues. If only you’d had a bonded creature wise enough to scent the lack of wine on the Ferryman’s breath and warned you notto drink so much yourself,he drawled through my mind, voice dry.
I shot him a glare. He merely blinked at me, and if wolves had eyebrows, I’d swear he lifted one in silent rebuke.
“You look at her with indecision warring across your face. Do you like her? Hate her? Are you friends? Rivals? You don’t even know what she is to you, do you?” Charon glared as though the answer should be obvious.
