Page 45 of Branded By Shadow
I had no words for it. The concept felt too new, too fragile to be named. My arms held her, my power protected her, my will kept her. We had entered this room as captor and captive. Whatever we were now, adrift in the icy darkness, neither of us was prepared to say.
18
The Olympian Council
Cora
Once upon a time, back when I’d been just Cora, I’d seen an older child slap a toddler at the orphanage. I’d gotten in the way and earned myself a black eye in the process.
The Ellis orphanage matron had rushed in, stepped between us, and broken up the fight. She’d looked at me with haunted eyes and had said, “Cora, you need to understand. In this world, there will always be people who are stronger than others. And we... We are weak.”
All my life, I’d refused to accept this. But as I walked into the Olympian Council headquarters, it suddenly dawned on me. That woman had been completely right.
The amphitheater wasn’t so much built as carved from the mountainside itself, designed to humble anyone who dared stand on its floor. Terraced seating rose in perfect semicircles around a central speaking floor, each section marked with Olympian symbols. Every crest screamed of bloodlines that traced back to actual gods. As for me… I was just a foundling who’d gotten in the way again.
Council members were already settling into their hierarchies. It was a silent shuffle for dominance that made academic politics look like a playground squabble. In the middle of it all, I’d never felt so small, so exposed.
“Stay close,” Damon rumbled, so close his breath tickled my ear. “Don’t speak unless Julian addresses you directly.”
“I can handle this,” I whispered. It was a flimsy lie, and one that would never fool him. But he didn’t call me out on it, not like he’d done in the past.
Instead, he placed his hand over my lower back, the touch a brand of ownership. If I hadn’t been there in the ice bath, if I hadn’t seen his desperation, I’d have never deemed that vulnerability possible. Not with the raw power he projected now.
A Council attendee gestured toward a section of seating, his expression impassive. “House Hades will take the accused section.”
Accused. The word landed with the dead, final weight of a failed hypothesis. The cool mountain air made my skin prickle, thickwith the scent of the Olympian power I’d never thought I could touch.
The only comfort I had was Damon’s presence. It was a paradox, finding an anchor in the man who’d chained me. But last night, in the freezing water, he’d fought to protect me from himself. That memory was the only thing keeping me upright.
As I followed him to our designated seating, my footsteps echoed against the stone floors. The acoustics were perfect, built to carry every whisper to the furthest seats. Hundreds of gazes tracked our movement, assessing, cataloging, judging. The metallic taste of nervous anticipation coated my tongue as we took our designated positions.
Then I spotted her.
Helena sat in the House Hera section, her hair pulled into an elegant updo. My gaze locked with hers, and her expression softened. She gave me the smallest nod, a gesture of support that made my chest tight. At least I wasn’t completely alone in this nightmare.
Damon’s control was slipping. Every protective instinct he possessed had sharpened to a knife’s edge. Did no one else see how shadows writhed in every corner of the amphitheater? Were they that oblivious, or did they simply not care?
A ceremonial gong rang out, the sound reverberating through stone and bone alike. A handsome blond man took his place onan elevated platform. His gaze shifted between blue and gold as it surveyed the assembled crowd.
Tall and broad, he commanded attention without trying. “The Council recognizes House Zeus’s petition regarding bloodline heritage and claiming precedence.”
His words reached every corner of the amphitheater, his neutral tone unable to hide the layers beneath. “I am Julian Solaris, House Apollo. I will mediate these proceedings.”
House Apollo. That explained the aura of command. They were one of the most well-known Alpha houses. While not quite as feared as Hades or Zeus, they had received blessings from the god of light and prophecy. That alone gave them an influence no one could challenge.
But Alexander showed no sign of being intimidated. He rose from the House Zeus section, power crackling in his storm-gray stare. “House Zeus speaks today on behalf of House Demeter, whose ancient rights have been trampled.”
The objection came so quickly it was obviously prepared. This entire proceeding had been choreographed well before we’d arrived. The chess game had already begun, and I was the prize piece being moved around the board by players whose strategies I couldn’t fathom.
A woman I didn’t recognize moved from the House Demeter section, her quiet approach somehow drawing every eye. Blooming flowers adorned her chestnut hair. When our gazesmet, it felt like I was looking into the heart of the forest. “I am Lyra Dawnfield, House Demeter,” she said. “And I stand before this Council to address a theft that mirrors one from our darkest history.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Even Damon’s shadows pulled back from their threatening positions.
“The old theft cannot be repeated,” Lyra continued, her grief thick enough to taste. “When Hades claimed Persephone against House Demeter’s will, it created wounds that have never healed. We will not stand by while House Hades repeats this pattern with our newly awakened sister.”
I stared at her in disbelief. In hindsight, it made sense that House Demeter and Hades would have some kind of rivalry. Our ancestral deities certainly did. But for this rivalry to leak into my life… Wasn’t that a little too absurd?
Obviously not, if Lyra’s glare was to be believed. “House Demeter has prior claim to our Omegas. Damon Blackwood, you will release Dr. Ellis.”
