1. The Odyssey
The Odyssey
Andromeda
They called the yacht the Odyssey.
It was a pretentious name for a floating city of steel and glass that cost more than the GDP of a small country, but House Poseidon had never been known for its subtlety.
The vessel loomed over the marina, casting a long reflection on the black water.
Even from the dock, the bass from the deck speakers thumped against my ribs, a rhythmic pressure that felt less like music and more like a warning.
Beside me, Danae stopped dead. Her heels scraped against the concrete, a sharp, dissonant sound in the humid night air.
“Don’t stop.” I tightened my hold on her arm, just once, a physical reminder that I was there. “If you do, you’re never starting again.”
“Look at them, Andie.” Danae gestured vaguely toward the upper deck, where shadows writhed against the purple mood lighting. “That’s the Dionysus entourage by the pool. They’re already losing it, and it’s not even ten o’clock.”
She wasn’t wrong. House Dionysus didn’t throw parties. They staged riots and called it entertainment. Orion Maris’s little gatherings would be no different. If anything, here, under the protection of the head of House Poseidon, House Dionysus could do whatever they pleased.
A bottle of champagne smashed against the hull, sending a shower of glass and foam raining down into the dark water below. To anyone else, it looked like freedom. To me, it looked like a disaster waiting to happen.
It changed nothing. “They’re just background noise,” I told my friend. “Ignore them.”
Danae shook her head, her lower lip trembling. “I can’t. I feel like I’m walking into some kind of war. I should have stayed in the lab.”
“Orion Maris invited you, specifically,” I reminded her. “You ignore a summon like that, and you insult House Poseidon.”
“I’d rather insult them from a distance than throw up on their shoes.”
“You won’t. If push comes to shove, I’ll drag you away, and you’ll throw up in the pool.”
Danae’s lips twisted in a tiny smile. She didn’t relax, not exactly, but she was no longer about to bolt. Mission accomplished, at least for now.
Together, we started making our way upward, toward the main deck.
The salt air grew heavier the higher we climbed, thick with the scent of brine, copper, and expensive perfume.
It made the fine hairs on my arms stand up.
I hated it. I hated the power that radiated from this place, the casual, crushing weight of it. But I kept going.
“How do you do it, Andie?” Danae whispered, her voice barely audible over the sea breeze. “How can you stand them?”
“I can’t. I don’t.” I swept my gaze over the glittering deck, the laughing crowds, the sheer, unchecked excess of it all. It reeked of entitlement and stale wine, a playground for gods who had forgotten what it meant to be human. “I would rather be literally anywhere else.”
“Then why are you pushing me forward?”
“Because you are the smartest engineer in the city. You fix problems these people can’t even spell. And you asked me to be your shield.”
Danae and I had been friends for more than a decade, since I was a young and stupid Olympian Omega, still trusting, still full of hope.
She was the only person I cared about from that horrible part of my past. She’d been the one to help me sneak out of my mother’s clutches when I’d finally seen her for what she was.
There was very little I wouldn’t do for her.
I smoothed the fabric of her dress where I’d wrinkled it. “Now, I will elbow anyone who gets too close, and I will glare at anyone who looks at you wrong. All you have to do is breathe and walk.”
“Okay.” Danae took a breath that rattled in her chest. “Breathe and walk. Just… stay close.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Chin up, Day. Let’s go.”
As we crossed the threshold onto the main deck, the world dissolved into a fever dream.
The gangway had been loud, but this place was a sensory assault.
Strobe lights sliced through the humid air, turning the crowd into a stop-motion ocean of bodies.
The scent of power clung to my skin, a soup of sea salt, champagne, and the metallic tang of unleashed pheromones.
A House Aphrodite Omega lounged against the railing to my left, a vision in sheer silk and predatory intent. She trailed a single manicured finger down the chest of a man wearing the winged lapel pin of House Hermes.
“Put the tablet away, darling,” she drawled, her command grating over my skin like a hook sinking into flesh. “You can worry about the speed of your deliveries tomorrow.”
The Beta’s hand trembled as he reached for her waist. “I… I have a schedule to keep. The information logs…”
“The only schedule you have tonight is mine.” She smiled, a sharp baring of teeth that promised everything and nothing. “Now, be a good boy and buy me another drink.”
I looked away, a sour taste coating my tongue. Alphas commanded with lightning and force, but Omegas like her used a leash made of desire. And yet, she was much better than others I knew. Than the House I’d been born in.
A server materialized from the crush, thrusting a tray of glowing purple flutes into the small space between Danae and me. The liquid swirled with a pearlescent sheen.
“Lotus extract?” The boy’s grin was too wide, his eyes glassy. “It creates a lovely sense of time dilation. You won’t even notice the sun coming up.”
Eurydice help me, this was worse than I’d thought. I blocked the tray with a flat palm and glowered at him. “Water. Still. In a sealed bottle.”
The server blinked owlishly, as if he couldn’t understand what she was saying. “Water. Oh… Of course. I’ll see what I can find.”
He dissolved back into the crowd. I stepped directly into Danae’s line of sight, using my own body to cut off the madness.
“You’d think there would be plain water on Orion Maris’s yacht, but apparently not,” she joked.
I was happy to see she had her shy humor back, but I couldn’t let her forget where we were. “House Poseidon wouldn’t bother with something so plebeian. Do not drink anything that glows. Ever.”
“Obviously not. I build things that glow. I don’t drink them.”
“And that’s quite fortunate for all of us, Ms. Wayland. Your work is so remarkable I’d hate for it to be wasted in a single sip.”
I pivoted on my heel, only to see Orion Maris standing five feet away. It was a little alarming that I hadn’t felt him approach. This damn party was even more confusing than I’d thought.
While the peacocks around him preened in neon, Orion wore a suit of dark, matte charcoal. There was no jewelry. No glowing sigils. Just a man who stood with the absolute, unshakeable balance of someone who lived on shifting tides.
His simple presence made Danae’s carefully cultivated calm shatter. Her breath hitched, and she clutched her purse like a shield. “Lord Maris. T-Thank you for the compliment. And for inviting me.”
“Please, call me Orion.” He glided up to us, and the guests parted around him, giving him a wide berth. “I was just telling my lead engineer about your work on the crystal lattices. The way you solved the signal loss at extreme depths… honestly, it’s the first breakthrough I’ve seen in a decade.”
Danae’s face went from pale to a brilliant, furious crimson. “Oh. That? It was just… I mean, salt water interferes with standard frequencies, so I thought if we inverted the resonance…”
“You made the ocean transparent to data. It’s brilliant. Essential for communications between the Olympian Houses.”
It was probably true. The leaders of House Poseidon all lived in international waters and rarely ever came to shore. Once, that wouldn’t have been much of a problem. But in this brave new world, where everything happened so quickly, being the last to receive all the information could be costly.
Then, the weight of his attention shifted to me. I’d had countless Alphas staring at me throughout my life, and they usually fixated on my breasts or bonding gland. But Orion Maris just looked at my face.
“And who is this? I don’t recall seeing a plus-one on the dossier, but I assume she’s the reason I haven’t managed to scare you off.”
“My name is Andromeda Cross.” I shot him my best neutral smile, the one I gave to every Bridezilla who thought she was in the right. “I’m Danae’s childhood friend. I hope I’m not imposing too much with my presence.”
If Maris found the absence of a House introduction odd, he didn’t show it. “Not at all. Any friend of Ms. Wayland’s is a friend of mine. It’s a true pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine,” I replied. It really wasn’t, but I could be polite to House Poseidon’s leader for Danae’s sake.
Orion smirked, as if he knew what I was truly thinking. “Well, then, as your host, I feel obligated to give you a few tips. Try the seafood, and avoid the punch. House Dionysus has a heavy hand with the hallucinogens tonight.”
I barely managed to suppress a scoff. “We noticed.”
“Sharp.” A dry chuckle rumbled in Orion’s chest. It cracked the polished veneer of the party, a sound of genuine amusement that hadn’t been practiced in a mirror.
“I appreciate that. Honesty is a rare commodity on this ship. Usually, people just praise the wine while trying to hide the fact that they’re terrified. ”
“The real question is what actually scares them.” I watched a guest in a soaked tuxedo drag a laughing companion into the pool. “The wine they drink, or the host who offers it to them?”
“You really are an interesting one.” Orion inclined his head, scanning the partygoers with indulgent eyes. “I don’t think I’m that terrifying. Never to my guests, at least.”
Before I could muster another reply, a man in a crisp blue uniform wove through the crush of bodies. When he reached Orion’s side, he leaned in, whispering something in the Alpha’s ear.
“Already?” Orion asked, his pleasant smile twisting into an unreadable expression.
The aide nodded, glancing nervously toward the starboard side. “Just arrived. The helicopter landed a few minutes ago.”