Chapter 17
HAWTHORNE
Jamison’s silence speaks volumes as I grab a seat on the porch next to him.
“In the end, I didn’t need to forgive her.
It became a moot point.” He turns his head toward me, and I see his confusion.
“I needed to decide if I was willing to fight for her. For us. All of us. For a future I only dreamed about before she came along.” I pause and remind him. “A future we all dreamed of.”
His gaze turns toward the horizon. “Trust is the one thing that is non-negotiable for me. And I know she didn’t lie, but the effect was the same. It blew up our family. The one thing I’ve sworn to protect above all else.”
I scoff, and his head whips around. “Maybe we needed it. We were getting stale in our old age. Besides, we’re grown males, not schoolboys who can’t handle a little adversity. She’s worth it.”
He huffs. “Mathias can’t even be in the same room with her.”
“Mathias will make his own choices. His story is different from mine or yours,” I retort with a shake of my head.
“She didn’t just break his trust. She’s partly responsible for him never seeing his daughter again.
Only he can decide whether that is something he can get over.
Just like you have to decide if you have it in you to trust her again. ”
His jaw clenches, and I inwardly sigh. Jamison’s stubborn.
The traits that make him a steadfast and loyal leader are the same ones that can sometimes get in his way.
Rules and order are his hallmarks. Loyalty and trust are non-negotiable.
He took a chance on her, and it backfired.
It’s hard to tell if he can get over it, but the look in his eyes tells me he’s more angry than hurt.
All his life his father has lied to him and broken his trust. But Phaedra is not Lord de Vere, and he needs to realize she only knew one way to operate.
Alone. It’s up to us to reassure her that she can rely on us to be there for her. No matter what.
“What are you going to do while we’re gone?” I ask, changing the subject.
He sighs. “Hunt for my father. He’s the only one who can tell us who Bennett is and the extent of his powers.
” He taps his fingers against his thigh, something he does when he’s thinking.
“My father has never mentioned Bennett. Yet I got the feeling Caron was surprised when I asked who he was and how to find him.”
“Definitely missed something big, right under our noses,” I reply, gritting my teeth at the bubble we’d been living in. “We’ve been too complacent, willing to take orders from the council. There was a time when we had eyes everywhere. When we brought the threats to the council.”
Jamison exhales heavily. “You’re right. And that’s on me. My need for order structured us in a way that left little room for chaos or surprises.”
I wave a hand, dismissing his statement.
“We’re all at fault. Not only did we let our guard down, but we also created an opening for the council to assert more power,” I add with a growl, frustrated with myself for not seeing it.
“There needs to be balance, and the only way to get it is to rein them in.”
“Starting with my father,” Jamison says in a hard tone.
“Osian too,” I remind him of the elf councilmember and Caron’s father. “I don’t know about Virilin. The Fae are pretty secretive. The only one I think is halfway decent is Daegan. Probably because the shifters elect a new council leader on a semi-regular basis.”
“How the hell are we going to save this world from both the gods and supernaturals?” he asks, turning to me, and I see the real reason he’s out here brooding. “We need a fucking plan.”
“We do. Everyone is three steps ahead of us. It’s time for us to take back control.” I clap him on the back and stand. “I’m going to leave that in your capable hands while we go to Italy.”
“Be careful.” He pauses for a second, then quietly asks, “How do you know her feelings are real? Can you sense her emotions?”
“I wish,” I say with a chuckle. That would be a hell of a lot easier.
“My ability to read emotions doesn’t work on her.
If it did, it would have saved us some time.
Honestly, it’s a pure leap of faith. For both of us, but especially her.
For the first time ever, she’s letting down those formidable walls of hers. ”
I wait for him to ask another question, but he’s already turning away. Hopefully, my words will give him something to think about while we’re gone.
Gatlin puts the vehicle in park. It’s close to sunset in Italy, and the asphalt lot is empty. Perfect time to conduct business with a goddess. Phaedra gets out and reaches for the peacock, but Gatlin grabs it first, softly speaking to it in a tone I haven’t heard from him before.
I lean down to murmur in her ear, “I think he’s becoming attached.”
Of course, Gatlin overhears and tosses a glare in my direction. “It’s afraid. I’m trying to calm it down.” His voice is surly and full of irritation. A tone I definitely recognize.
I grab the pomegranate tree and slam the door shut. “Maybe we should get some to run around the yard.” My comment is meant for the two of them but more for Phaedra than Gatlin. I want her to start thinking about all of us living there together. Calling it home.
Initially, she bites her lip, considering how to respond but finally pushes through her natural reticence. “Fine, but you’re cleaning up after them.”
That’s not a deterrent. Elves love animals and nature. Or maybe I’ll get Gatlin to do it. “Deal.”
We pass through the entrance, and our attention swings to the two temples in front of us. “Remarkable. With all the wars and unrest over the ages, it’s incredible to have these magnificent examples of Greek architecture still standing.”
She runs a hand down one of the columns. “The patina on this stone is stunning and only comes with age.” She lifts a hand and points to one of the temples. “That’s Hera II. There’s grass in the center, perfect for the tree.”
Gatlin ties the peacock to the chain blocking visitors from entering, then pulls out his weapons. “I’ll be right here. Whisper if you need me.” His jaw is tight with tension as his gaze flicks to me, and I can hear him silently ordering me to protect her. I nod.
Following Phaedra to the center, I murmur a few words to the soil to make it part, then lift the tree from its pot and set it down in the hole. Earth magic flows from me to the roots, and the tree grows another foot while the branches become laden with the sweet fruit. Then I step back.
Phaedra swallows, then walks over to the large altar and kneels. I see her head bow and her lips move with her dedication to Hera. The air shimmers beside her, and I take a step forward, magic ready.
Power fills the air, signaling their arrival.
Hera and Athena appear to the left of the altar, and Phaedra moves in front of me.
My jaw tightens, furious with her actions.
She’s trying to protect me, and it should be the other way around.
I walk forward until I’m standing next to Phaedra.
Her bright blue eyes look at me in panic, wordlessly trying to get me to move back, but I ignore her plea.
Hera’s dark eyes briefly touch on Phaedra before moving to me.
Her gaze dips to the magic swirling in my hands, and her lips curl in delight.
Athena shifts beside her, tightening her grip on her spear before lightly placing a hand on Hera’s arm.
Hera’s eyes flick to the goddess as she shakes it off with an irritated sigh.
“Stop worrying. It’s unbecoming of a god,” Hera snaps at Athena, whose own eyes narrow with fury. She turns back to me. “Well, at least she didn’t bring the abomination. Elf, huh?”
I grit my teeth and dip my head. “Hawthorne.”
She deflates slightly at my response, then turns to Phaedra. “What have you brought for me?” There’s an imperious tone to her voice that makes me grind my teeth harder.
Phaedra lifts her arm and points to the tree behind us. “A pomegranate tree.” Her shoulders are back as she stares boldly at Hera.
Hera’s lip curls in a sneer. “Not good enough.”
“Well, if you don’t want more worshippers, we can remove it,” Phaedra states with a nonchalant shrug. When Hera turns back to her, eyebrow raised high, she continues. “Pick a fruit.”
Hera pauses for a second, as if she’s debating something internally, then walks over and snatches a pomegranate off the tree. Another immediately blooms in its place. Her head tilts, and she picks another. A replacement appears. She does this five more times, then turns toward me.
“Is this your doing?”
“The tree will forever bear fruit. Sweet, edible, delicious,” I explain, ignoring her question. “Famine, plague, nature. Nothing will affect it.”
Phaedra steps closer to me and slips her hand into mine. “People will come from all over the world to view this tree. It will amaze them. They’ll think this tree is blessed by you. You’ll gain more followers.”
Hera lifts the fruit and takes a bite. “I’ll deem it acceptable.” Her words are bland, but her eyes are bright with the thought of thousands of new followers. “Three down.”
“The fourth one is coming up right away,” Phaedra pipes up. “See you next door.”
Hera and Athena vanish.
Phaedra jumps up into my arms. “I think she likes you,” she says nonchalantly, although she doesn’t fool me for a second. She was worried about me meeting Hera, especially after what happened when Hera met Gatlin.
“We need to hurry,” I remind her, and she nods and slides down to her feet. “Let’s go.” As we walk, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a velvet box with a bow on it.
Gatlin’s tense face greets us the second we step out. “It went well.” He unties the bird and hands it to me, but I can see the reluctance in his eyes.
Phaedra stops him. “We don’t have to give her the bird.”
He jerks his head and waves a hand. “It’s fine.”
Instead of arguing, she runs the back of her knuckles down his cheek. “Trust me.”
The three of us walk the short distance to the Hera I temple. Again, Gatlin takes up his post outside its columns, his eyes peeled for any sign of danger. Phaedra pauses at the altar positioned in front of the entrance and drops to her knees.
“Hera, queen of the Olympians, whose powerful might and benevolence is of the highest, please accept my humble gift. I honor you and the treasures you hold dear with an offering that I can only hope finds favor,” Phaedra begins.
Her praise and dedication continue for another thirty seconds or so before she stands and leads the way inside.
Hera and Athena appear. Her eyes sweep the temple, then move to the two of us. And the peacock. “What is this?”
“A choice,” Phaedra responds with a lift of her chin. She opens the velvet box and shows the two goddesses the stunning peacock pin on its satin interior. “Either an innocuous-looking pin that holds a paralyzing curse for unsuspecting enemies or an albino peacock to grace your bountiful gardens.”
“Or you could sacrifice the peacock and give me the pin,” Hera suggests, her eyes lighting up with dark amusement.
Phaedra shakes her head. “I won’t sacrifice this magnificent creature. Perhaps the pin would be better for you. And Athena can take the peacock. A gift for each of you.”
Athena’s lips curl in amusement as she steps forward to accept the bird.
“Stop,” Hera commands, raising her hand. “I want the bird.”
Phaedra pulls back her hand. “I’m afraid you’ll only destroy it.” She holds out the velvet box again. “This gold pin set with precious jewels is like you. Stunning and deadly. It will paralyze any enemy of yours who touches it. An unexpected weapon of beauty and surprise.”
Anger fills Hera’s face, and I suck in a breath as the need to protect Phaedra thrums through my veins. I widen my stance, preparing to pull earth magic to defend us. Athena also moves a hand toward the knife sheathed at her waist. The air turns heavy with a mixture of fear and anger.
Hera strolls over and lifts Phaedra’s chin with her finger. I gnash my teeth as a feeling of helplessness rolls over me. This is what Gatlin felt. He’s right. We need to find a way to protect her when all this goes down. Shaking off my thoughts, I tune back in.
“Feeling brave these days? Do you not remember who you’re talking to? One thought, and you’ll be suspended in limbo forever,” Hera says softly, her threat obviously a reference to the past.
Phaedra swallows but stands her ground. “Five gifts. Five prayers. Five temples. Those were your terms. I thought to offer you a choice, but I realize my error. My gift is the peacock pin.”
The ground trembles under our feet, but Phaedra’s hand continues to hold out the velvet box. Hera’s eyes drift from it to the albino peacock. “What if I want both?”
“Would you swear to not harm it?” Phaedra inserts in a quiet voice, as if she’s afraid of pushing Hera too far.
“Yes, yes,” Hera replies in an irritated voice.
“That would be two gifts instead of the one. Correct?”
Hera narrows her eyes, and her lips compress. It’s obvious she doesn’t like the idea, but after glancing at the bird, then Athena, she waves a hand. “Fine. Two.”
Phaedra drops to her knees and quickly murmurs another prayer before standing and handing Hera both the pin and peacock. Both gifts disappear.
Athena looks at me, then back at Phaedra. There’s a gleam of pride in her eyes, as if she’s happy with Phaedra’s cunning strategy.
Hera looks unsettled for a second before she lifts her chin. “Make sure the last gift is the best.” Her eyes dart outside to where Gatlin is standing, then to me. “Or you won’t be the only one who suffers.” She snaps her fingers and disappears.
Athena studies Phaedra. “Well played. But the pressure is on to deliver something truly remarkable. Don’t waste the gift you’ve been given.” Her laser-sharp gaze drills into her for a second longer, as if she’s trying to tell her something before she too disappears.
The moment they’re gone, Gatlin comes charging in to stand beside us. “Let’s get the fuck out of here and go home.”
Couldn’t have said it better myself.