Left with no alternative, Demeter turned to another pack—one that cherished and loved their Omega—and begged them to hide Persephone.
That pack was my mother’s pack.
And my mother was the Omega in the nest.
She accepted Demeter’s request.
Which was how my brother first met his Persephone.
But things soon went to hell after that happened, the four ravenous packs waging war on the other Alphas in an attempt to take their mates.
Then Omega kind vanished.
And the sane Alphas assumed fate had intervened to take the Omegas away as a result of their mistreatment.
Pandora’s Box was created to imprison the offending Alphas, in hopes that fate would forgive the rest of the Mythos Fae by returning Omega kind.
Alas, that never happened.
And now I know why.
Demeter took them.
Either she was never put in Pandora’s Box with the others, or she escaped.
The latter possibility concerns me because it means she could escape us now. Or maybe even possesses a talent that’ll facilitate her ability to thwart us.
Which is precisely the point of Flame’s inquiry and concern. He’s basically asking,If she escaped before, can she do it again?
And my answer remains the same—I don’t know.
But we’re about to find out.
“Once she’ssubdued, we?—”
The hairs along the back of my neck dance, alerting me to an incoming presence. Reaper straightens, his scythe lifted in a defensive pose as Flame takes the sword from his other hand, both of them battle-ready.
But the glass mirror forming before us isn’t born of Mythos Fae magic. It’s something else entirely.
Helia’s face appears, her eyebrow arching at our display of aggression.
Then she casually steps through the glass with Cain following behind her.
“You didn’t think we would let you fight a battle in our territory without a little assistance, did you?” she asks conversationally. “Now, bring us up to speed on thisGoddess. And tell us the plan.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
ALINA
“What areyou doing to my sister?” Sera demands. “You’re hurting her.”
“I’m saving her,” the Viscount hisses. “You have no idea what I’ve been through to protect you and the others. No idea at all. So just sit there and let me work.”
“Protect us?” Sera huffs a laugh. “You pull our names from a Chalice once a year at the Day of the Choosing and send us off to Monsters Night. How is thatprotectingus?”
The Viscount huffs. “There’s so much you don’t understand, Persephone. So much I would teach you if you weren’t going to just die in a handful of decades. Or years, thanks to yoursisterhere.”
“My name isn’t Persephone,” my sister tells her, the dreamy-eyed girl in the garden nowhere to be seen.