20. Caelus
Caelus
I had the indescribable misfortune of coming around that corner just in time to watch her fall — unable to do so much as cushion her landing. Like a puppet with its strings severed, Nyssa collapsed onto the filthy floor, limbs askew.
Ignoring the god beside me and his own strangely visceral reaction, I ran. I felt, more than saw, the fiery son of war running alongside me.
I was still too far away. Sprinting noiselessly towards her, arms pumping, chest heaving, I tore through piles of old junk — until Aros abruptly wrenched my arm, jarring me to a standstill.
“What the fuck—” I started, but he clamped his hand over my mouth, cutting off my vicious tirade, and raised a single finger to his lips.
The universal gesture to shut the fuck up.
He pointed to where Nyssa lay, the message in his eyes clear: Shut up and look, you fool.
Nyssa was not alone. The god of sun and healing had emerged from a nearby stack, moving soundlessly towards her. He lowered himself beside her rasping form, fingers spelling out a message too quick for me to read.
Dim light glinted off the shiny metal shaft of an arrow protruding from her shoulder. Golden blood stained the entire left side of her body — but where else had she been hit?
I scoured her body from head to toe but could see no further injuries. A single arrow wasn’t enough to take down a god, let alone one as powerful as Nyssa.
So why did it look like she was dying?
She wasn’t dying. She couldn’t be.
Who did this to her? I growled inwardly, sounding more like Lykos than myself.
Aros had gone completely still. His usual smug grin was gone, replaced by something heavier. Something grave.
I saw the exact moment unconsciousness claimed her. Even from this distance, I caught the way her body lost all tension — muscles going limp, head tilting back, going still.
Apollo hovered above her, resolve etched into his features as he gently placed a palm on her wounded shoulder.
He shifted slightly, and I finally saw a second body slumped behind them. Nyssa must have taken down her attacker first.
Good girl.
Where his sister was midnight, Apollo was the sun at its zenith.
His dark skin simmered like it housed the sun’s heat.
And when he touched her, a soft golden light bloomed beneath his fingers, soaking into her body like liquid sunlight.
With his free hand, he wrenched the arrow free and tossed it aside.
Light pulsed in slow, rhythmic waves across Nyssa’s skin, her wound gradually closing. Once it sealed completely, Apollo lifted his hand and looked up. His molten gold eyes locked onto my liquid silver — knowing, unwavering. It bore no warmth. No relief.
Only a warning carved into the silence, heavier than anything he could have uttered aloud.
His fingers moved slowly, signing in the air.
Poison, he told me. Belladonna on the arrow. I used my power to extinguish it. I expected sabotage — but not from my own sister.
Fury darkened his features in a way I was not prepared to witness. As though, by encouraging her protege to incapacitate Nyssa, Artemis had unknowingly betrayed Apollo himself.
Nyssa jerked awake, green eyes snapping open.
Her breath caught, like she’d just awoken from a nightmare.
Her eyes darted around wildly, looking for anything that made sense.
And somehow, despite still being cloaked in shadow, her gaze found mine.
It lingered there for three full heartbeats — I counted — before flitting back to Aros and Apollo.
She addressed Apollo first.
“You helped me?”
He nodded solemnly.
“Thank you.”
Another nod.
Then, she turned to Aros, who was shifting restlessly from foot to foot. Relief plain on his face, buried under the rawness of his concern.
When Nyssa finally looked at me again, her stare hit like a physical blow. I couldn’t breathe — couldn’t think — with those sharp emerald eyes piercing me like she could see everything I tried to hide. But fuck , if she hadn’t just scared the shit out of me. Again.
I really needed to stop anguishing over every injury to the daughter of Hades. I had to separate my insane, residual feelings for her from the fact that I’d agreed to help get her onto the throne.
For the good of the realms. Nothing else.
Even I didn’t believe that.
It was a boy who’d fallen in love with a girl. Not the man for the woman .
I just had to keep reminding myself that she could never be mine. Not really. Not like I wanted. She’d never want the son of the man who murdered her mother. And when she’s Queen, she could have her pick of anyone to share her bed.
I couldn’t stop the scowl I shot in Aros’ direction, much to his confusion.
I guessed Fate had determined that Nyssa was to be the night sky — infinite and untouchable — and I was to be the dawn, always chasing her away.
We moved closer to the pair.
“You—” Aros began, swallowing roughly. “You’re alive.”
His tan complexion had paled, his usual bravado nowhere to be found.
Nyssa moved to stand, and Aros jerked forward.
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped. Aros’ face shuttered.
“I’m fine,” she assured, noticeably more gentle.
But I could taste her lie in the air. I saw the way her limbs trembled and how she swayed slightly on her feet.
“You’re not fucking fine,” I growled, rivalling my wolf in menace. Every word dripped with a fury that hung heavily in the silence. Nyssa just glared at me.
Aros stood frozen, fists clenched at his sides. He did not move to help her again, but it was clear how rattled he was.
Nyssa straightened with unwavering determination. Facing the dim, junk-filled room, she inhaled deeply and bellowed.
“Footsteps!”
Aros and I exchanged a bewildered glance, both clearly wondering if she’d hit her head harder than Apollo had realised.
Then the air shifted as Hermes appeared with a sharp snap . His thick arms were crossed, and he wore a scowl that could rival my mother’s.
“You’ve stolen our footsteps,” she explained. “None of us have made so much as a floorboard creak since entering this space. Not one speck of dust has stuck to our boots, nor any prints left in our wake. I could jump from the top of one of these stacks right now and it still wouldn’t make a sound.”
My jaw slackened as I realised she was right. How she had worked that out — and remembered it after being poisoned — was beyond me.
“Footsteps,” I repeated, impressed.
“Footsteps,” Aros echoed, bewildered.
Apollo grinned with mirth as he spelled out the same.
“You have all passed,” Hermes declared, scowling. “Twenty-six hours, fifty-four minutes apiece. Link hands and let’s go.”
With a half-hearted swish of his wrist and between one blink and the next, we were magically transported back to the Parthenon, and to our eager animal companions. All except Nyssa, who had opted to shadow-walk instead.
Probably the wisest decision, considering the nausea now swirling in my stomach.
Lykos eagerly nudged my hand toward the small chalice containing the antiserum — the foul-smelling concoction that would restore our mental bond.
I gulped it down quickly, surprisingly impatient to have his presence back in my mind.
Being disconnected from him for the last twenty-six hours had felt like a year, or like trying to compete with a missing limb.
The next time one of your gods attempts to use that abomination of a serum again, I’ll bite their hand off and feed it to Diana’s python.
I couldn’t help but agree, even though I knew it was likely in our future again.