Chapter 26 Caelus
Caelus
I held the entire world cradled within my arms. It was that simple for me. Everything boiled down to that one, straight fact.
But she bore the weight of entire worlds on her shoulders.
And right now, they were teeming with problems of the monstrous variety. Oozing with the stench of titanic audacity. Trembling with the anticipation of the next strike.
War was not at all what I’d expected.
It was quiet and restless more than violent and gore-filled. It was a taut wire ready to snap at the slightest provocation, and endless battlefields, already haunted before the first blows struck.
There was little glory to be found in it, doing terrible things in the guise of honour. But they were things that must be done in order to preserve what good remained.
Ephemeron’s presence pressed down on us both as I took that final step into the realm of mortals. Its air felt heavier, thicker — a storm on the verge of breaking, though I couldn’t even begin to fathom from where.
At the thought of storms, lightning writhed beneath my skin, turning it a bright shade of molten gold.
Nyssa stirred.
“Shhh. Sleep. War can wait until tomorrow,” I said, kissing the top of her head.
Her lips slid into a soft, sleepy smile. “If you say so,” she murmured, snuggling further into my chest.
My heart squeezed. If someone had told me a year ago that I would be here now, carrying the daughter of Hades in my arms as she slept — and she was snuggling me — I’d have laughed in their face and downed another drink, drowning my desperation to be doing just that.
If they’d had told me she would possess me like no other, I’d have readily agreed. I’d have told them, “She already does.”
And if they’d told me our souls would be linked forever? Until Atropos’ shears snicked shut on our combined thread of fate?
Well, I’d probably have slugged them for lying so brazenly to my face.
Ten years ago — maybe, just maybe — I’d have believed them. We had been on the cusp of something like this. And it felt magical… evangelical… fate-driven, even then.
But when a goddess of the Underworld discovered us — tangled together in a darkened alcove at the Palace of Aetherion, sharing ardour wrapped in kisses — she intervened.
“What in Tartarus are you both thinking?” the stranger scolded.
Nyssa winced, her moonlit cheeks flushing a warm copper, looking even more enticing than she had a minute ago.
“Lethe, it’s not—”
“I do not care what it is, nor what it could be,” the woman snapped, cutting Nyssa’s explanation in two. “It cannot happen.”
Emerald irises shattered before me, piercing me with her profound regret.
Tears lined her lower lashes, and I watched as one solitary drop escaped, tracking down her face to hang at her chin.
A torchlight flickered in the hall, reflected in that singular bead — capturing my attention more than the stranger’s words.
“Caelus!” the woman snapped. “Are you even listening?”
My face jerked back to hers and I straightened, towering over her.
The woman merely rolled her eyes and huffed a deep sigh. “Don’t try that dragonshit with me, boy. My son attempted it once — and only once. It did not end well for him, nor will it end well for you.”
I frowned at the woman who had the audacity to threaten the son of Zeus.
“And before you ask, yes. I know exactly who you are. I know whose child you are and all the things that are expected of you… and I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?”
“Sorry,” she repeated. “Your parents are… well, let’s just say I’d have raised you differently.
But even though you seem to have become a fine young man despite them, this still cannot happen.
” Her gaze flicked between Nyssa and me, lines of contrition marring her brow.
“Whatever you think you have, whatever you think you are, let this be the end of it.”
“Lethe, no!” Nyssa pleaded, grabbing the woman’s forearm in a bid to help her see reason.
“Please,” I murmured — that word had rarely passed my lips. But I was not above begging, for her. “We—”
“You are young,” she interrupted. “You both are. So young that you’ve barely scraped the surface of what your lives could be.” She paused momentarily, eyeing us both with a look too cryptic to decipher. “Too young to be murdered for fraternising with the enemy’s child.”
Her words hung in the air with startling clarity.
This strange, unfamiliar woman with eyes an unsettling blue, was right.
My father — or mother, for that matter — would not hesitate to cut Nyssa down if they thought Hades was trying to leverage his way onto the Aetherion throne. And I was certain the same could be said for Hades and the Underworld.
This was a mistake.
A mistake that could get us both killed.
I took a painful step backwards. Though it was the right thing to do, it still hurt — and my gut screamed at me not to do it.
“Caelus — no,” Nyssa sobbed, reaching for me. “You know this isn’t right.”
Her tears flowed freely now. And that hurt, too.
The woman — Lethe — nodded once. “You can go. Go back to the party and pursue another maiden. One your parents would approve of. I’ll take it from here.”
I turned sharp on my heel, taking long, purposeful strides away from the goddess of midnight.
“No!” she cried, tearing my heart asunder.
I didn’t love her — but I could have. I probably would have, eventually.
She was just a pretty flower in a field of dandelions. Something new and alluring to behold.
That was it.
At least, that’s what I told myself so I could keep walking away.
Before rounding the corner, I turned back at the last second. Lethe had her hands on either side of Nyssa’s face, wiping her tears away. She tilted Nyssa’s head back, the golden light of the torch caressing the entirety of her beautiful face, looking skyward as if in prayer.
Fate wouldn’t help her, though.
I waited a long moment, taking her in one last time, and made to leave.
The movement caught Nyssa’s eye, and her gaze snapped to mine. Though the remnants of tears glistened on her face, the tears themselves were gone. And the shattered emerald gaze that met mine was not that of an almost-lover.
It was blank.
Dark.
Cold.
I gazed down at the world in my arms — the woman who made this life worthwhile.
I had died for her once. And I’d wager that my heart would be on the line again before this war was over.
I had a score to settle with my mother.
And a life-debt to claim from Kronos.
Unless Nyssa took it first, as was her right.
When I entered the foyer of the building that housed students — and temporarily, us — Aros turned, dropped his intense conversation mid-sentence, and bounded up to us. With fists clenched at his sides and every muscle taut with barely restrained emotion, he bit out a terse, “What happened?”
I glanced down, checking she was still asleep, and noticed how stark the gilded ichor on her face was in the well-lit entryway.
With a grimace, I answered softly. “She almost drained herself.”
“What?!” he bellowed, causing my beloved to stir and the warrior he’d been conversing with to flinch.
“Shh!” I shot him a look, pleading with him to stay quiet. “Please, Aros — she needs to sleep it off.”
His teeth ground together audibly, but after a moment, he nodded with a sharp jerk of his head. “How, exactly, did this happen?”
“We went to Hades’ Palace after the battle.”
“I know, Velira told us. But how did that turn into this? And why wasn’t I sent for?”
“How, Aros?! In the midst of chaos, how was I to send someone for you, when no one was there but us?” I growled back, careful not to disturb my precious, sleeping cargo.
He blinked, taken aback. “You’re right,” he said, surprising me. “It’s just that I—”
“Take your oath seriously, yes, I know.” I sighed deeply, exhaling the irritation. “And I appreciate that more than you know. The more people standing between her and danger, the better. But I think we both know that she’s going to throw herself headlong into it, regardless.”
He raised a brow, nodding.
“And that’s exactly what happened tonight.”
I began toward the winding staircase, explaining everything that had happened from the moment Cerberus had woken us up. By the time we reached the third floor, Aros had calmed, glancing at our queen with such worry and devotedness I was almost jealous.
But theirs was a relationship forged in friendship. And I’d be a fool to strip her of the friends that remained to her because of stupid masculine pride.
Aros had deviated from his pursuit of her anyway.
From the second he’d learned of our entwined fates, how I felt for her, and our almost-love a decade ago, he’d backed off.
Sure, he still flirted relentlessly and teased her mercilessly, but that was just his nature.
And she needed someone to ground her like that.
“So,” he sighed. “Sleep.”
“Sleep,” I agreed, depositing her onto the narrow bed intended for humans, not gods.
“Caelus, there’s something else you should know.” He glanced at her still form, curled up on her side. “Something both of you should know.”
“What is it?”
“While you were gone, the messengers returned.”
“Which ones?”
“All of them.” His hand rested on the hilt of a sword tucked against his left leg. More of a warrior’s habit than anything else.
“And?” I prodded, washing the golden stain of Nyssa’s blood from my forearms in the tiny bathroom provided.
I abhorred this sight more than any other.
Her ichor made my stomach do backflips. It clawed at my heart, screaming this is not right.
More than any other, even that of innocents I had spilled myself, it troubled me.
And so, I scrubbed until no trace of it remained.
Until Aros grasped my right hand, stilling the motion.
“And they have agreed to meet.”
I looked sharply at him. “All of them?”
“All of them. Tomorrow at sundown, we are to meet every mortal nation’s ruler on the Isle of the Gods — and hope that they will join us.”
“So be it,” I answered quietly, taking a damp cloth over to the bed, gently scrubbing away the outward signs of Nyssa’s hardship.
“So be it,” Aros repeated, closing the door and sinking to the floor in front of it.
I eyed him skeptically. “You can’t sleep there.”
He grunted wordlessly, then, “I’m wound tighter than drawn bowstring, Caelus. I’ll not be sleeping tonight. The least I can do is assuage my emotions and protect her while she sleeps to make up for the fact that I wasn’t there to protect her earlier.”
“Aros… what could you have done to protect her from herself?”
He glared at me across the room, eyes flickering with angry flames. “I don’t know what I would have done, but it would have been a fuckload better than twiddling my thumbs here.”
Ignoring the rage that was not really directed at me, I slid onto the bed and dragged her back into my arms, where she belonged.
Aros sighed in the background.
“Sorry,” he breathed. “Get some sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s time.”
Needing no further encouragement, my eyelids drooped shut and I joined Nyssa in the depths of sleep.