Chapter 23 Hera
Hera
I lie next to my husband, my body still thrumming with the strength of my orgasm, my mind blessedly blank. In a little while, I’m going to have to start spinning and figure out my next steps, but…not yet. I’m not ready to leave this moment of curious safety.
It’s not actually safe. I know that. He seems remarkably blasé about my attempting to murder him, but he wouldn’t feel the same way if he knew I was working with Circe to save my family at the expense of the rest of the Thirteen and legacy families.
The thought makes me uncomfortable. Almost guilty. I’m not used to the sensation, so I start to turn away, but he presses his big hand to the center of my chest. “Don’t run.”
“I don’t run from anything, least of all you.”
Another man would laugh. Would make a joke of some kind. Or maybe he would just grin. Perseus does none of these. Instead, he watches me with those oh-so-serious blue eyes. “Don’t run,” he repeats. “Please.”
The temptation arises again to tell him…
something. I have so many doubts about him and us, and yet I can’t deny how safe I feel with him.
I don’t know how that equation works out, and because I don’t know, I can’t trust him with my sisters’ and my mother’s safety.
If I confess what’s going on with Circe, he’s just as likely to toss me into some locked room as he is to work with me in pursuit of an actual solution—and if I’m locked up, I can’t save them.
Not that I’m doing a bang-up job of saving anyone right now. Persephone has unilaterally told me no, and after the events of the day, there’s no way Hades is going to listen to a single argument I make.
But even knowing how hopeless this entire situation is, I can’t quite turn away from Perseus. I carefully cover his hand with mine, keeping it pressed against my chest. “It’s late. I’m not going anywhere.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” He studies my expression. I have no idea what he sees there. “Did I tell you Hermes came to talk to me?”
I blink. “What?”
“She pulled her customary move of appearing without notice and disappearing just as quickly, but she stuck around long enough to issue some dire warnings.”
My skin prickles. Is Hermes talking to all of the Thirteen?
And if she is, what does that mean? She’s been one of us long enough to know how unlikely it is to pressure any of the titles to step down.
If they could be swayed by violence, they would have been so when the assassination clause became public knowledge and attempts on our lives became regular.
Sure, Aphrodite and Hephaestus stepped down, but they were immediately replaced.
The title still remains. What is Hermes prepared to do that could actually change that truth? “What dire warnings?”
He shifts to prop his head on his hand, his other hand still pressing lightly to my chest. “She said the Thirteen as a government structure is no longer working. As always, she seems to forget she’s part of the Thirteen when it suits her.”
My heart lodges in my throat. I know better than to hope, especially with this man, but I can’t seem to help myself. I blame the hormones. But if Perseus were on my side…that could change things. That could change everything. “She’s not exactly wrong,” I say slowly.
“I know.” Perseus closes his eyes and exhales heavily. “You don’t think I know that? I saw every single thing my father did to hurt other people and how he used this title to do it. He’s not the only one, either. I know, Callisto.”
I almost—almost—reach out to cup his square jaw.
Only sheer habit keeps my hand still. I don’t comfort my husband, at least outside of sex, apparently.
The thought should be ludicrous, but there’s an ache blooming in my chest. I don’t know how to combat my softening toward him.
He’s just as lost as the rest of us. I hate that I’m only now realizing this, and I hate even more that it shifts something inside me.
I don’t want to kill my husband. But my new weakness doesn’t stop there. I don’t want him to die at all, not at my hand and sure as fuck not at someone else’s.
I know what I should do. I should sit here silently and let him talk until he says something I can use against him. Even as little as he’s confessed is enough to rock the foundations of Olympus even further. I can see the MuseWatch headlines now:
Zeus Wants to Rescind Titles! Chaos Reigns!
The thought brings me no joy. And because it brings me no joy, I can’t quite stop myself from shifting my touch to his forearm and squeezing lightly. “Then why not step down? Why not find another way?”
He opens his eyes, looking more tired than I’ve ever seen him.
“There are thirteen of us. Even if I step down, even if Poseidon did, the others would simply move into that power vacuum and use it for themselves. In the best-case scenario, dozens of people die as the legacy families fight for the available titles. In the worst case, there’s civil war. ”
I’ve watched him for months, cataloging every little micro expression. He’s telling the truth—but not the full truth. “And what else?”
His flinch is almost imperceptible, but there nonetheless.
“I started training to take the Zeus title from the moment I was born. It’s my entire identity.
I may have inherited the title before I was ready, but the fact remains that it’s mine.
” He starts to shift back and now it’s my turn to tighten my grip, to ask him without words not to run from me.
He glances down to where I hold his arm and settles more comfortably against me. “Who am I if I’m not Zeus?”
I frown. I don’t like his question, and I like even less the tone in his voice.
It’s threaded with something that almost sounds like despair.
As if he can see the end of Olympus and he doesn’t think he’ll survive to witness it.
As if he’ll keep fighting anyway because he doesn’t know how to do anything else.
I don’t mean to move. I don’t mean to say anything. I don’t mean to react at all. And yet my body takes the choice from me. I shove him onto his back and climb up to straddle his stomach. “Stop that.”
He raises his brows. “Stop what?”
“Poor little rich boy. Your father was a monster—no one will argue that—but this is Olympus. Monstrous parents are hardly a rarity. You’re the most powerful person in this city, and only part of that power is because of your title.
Your family has been here since the start.
You’re the ultimate legacy bloodline. Did Eris lose all her power when she rescinded the Aphrodite title? ”
“She’s Eris. What do you think?”
I think Eris is one of the most dangerous women in this city—and holding the title of Aphrodite still almost broke her.
She won’t admit as much, and I doubt Perseus would either, but there’s no other reason she would have allowed the Aphrodite title to slip from her grasp.
It wasn’t the assassination attempt that shook her to her core.
It’s the fucking system, this fucking city.
It chews people up and spits them out as fractured versions of themselves.
Eris got out of the Thirteen before the system broke her, but only barely.
“This isn’t working, Perseus.” I don’t mean to say the words, but just as my body took the choice from me, now my tongue and lips do.
“I don’t necessarily agree with Hermes’s methods, but it doesn’t change the fact that she’s not wrong.
How much evil has been done in the name of various members of the Thirteen?
And I’m not talking about evil stretching back to the founding of the city.
I’m talking about evil that happened in our lifetime while we were old enough to notice. Can you list it all? Because I can’t.”
He flinches again, and part of me hates how I’m hurting him with my words. How far I’ve fallen from my ambition to become a widow. Now I can’t even handle delivering an emotional blow to my husband. Finally, Perseus says, “No. I can’t list it all.”
The admission settles between us. Something has shifted.
It doesn’t matter what my original plans were, or what his intentions were.
There is only the way we are now. We crossed a line and now we can’t go back.
The worst part is how little I want to. “So the question remains—what are we going to do about it?”
He moves slowly, carefully setting his hands on my hips as if he’s not sure of his welcome.
“Even if I wanted to dismantle the Thirteen…even if it were possible…there’s Circe to reckon with.
She’s not going to wait peacefully for Olympus to create a whole new power structure that might have a chance to stand against her. ”
There’s only one solution to the Circe problem. There’s always only been one solution. We just haven’t managed to pull it off yet. “It’s simple, really. We kill her and then forge a new form of government.”
His lips curve the tiniest bit. “Your plan is spectacular in its detail.”
“Hey.” I lightly smack his chest. “The fact I’m sharing this plan with you at all is a step in the right direction. If there’s hope for us, then there’s hope for all of Olympus.”
His smile dims, his blue eyes going oh so serious. His fingers dig into my hips, ever so slightly. “Is there? Hope for us?”
It’s only then that I realize what I just said.
What is wrong with me? I was so firm in my choices, so cemented into my plan.
The last few days shouldn’t have changed anything, and yet they’ve changed everything.
I want to blame the parasite, but allowing myself even that amount of delusion is dangerous.
I could tell him. I could confess to being pregnant, could explain how terrified I am, could mourn the way that no matter how tightly I try to cling to control, it keeps spinning out past my fingertips. It’s a sensation I’m sure he’s experienced. Maybe there’s comfort in knowing I’m not alone.
Except it would be a lie. He said it himself: He doesn’t know who he is without Zeus.
Wishing for a different way doesn’t mean he’ll actually put our words into action should the opportunity present itself.
Even if we found and eliminated Circe today, his wishes would shift as soon as our enemy stopped looming large.
As soon as it became easy to settle into what passes for normalcy in this city.
I don’t know what hurts more about that future—losing him…or knowing I never had him to begin with.
So I don’t tell him I’m pregnant. I just lean down and press a light kiss to his lips. “I don’t know.” It’s the most honest answer I can give. I have no idea if there’s hope for us. I don’t think there is, but enough of me wants it that I can’t shoot him down.
He strokes my hips as I straighten. “That’s not a no.”
My throat tightens and my eyes burn. Damn hormones. It’s the only reason I’m fighting not to cry right now like some kind of sap. “It’s not a no.”
“I’ve given you great freedom since we were married.
I knew you hated me, and that your feelings were unlikely to change.
” He sits up suddenly, bringing us chest to chest. “Tonight, you’ve given me hope, Callisto.
Because I want you as my wife in truth, and if there’s even a sliver of a possibility you’ll agree to that, I’ll fight until I have nothing left to bring it into reality. ”
Shock stills me and eliminates my ability to speak.
This man is one I’ve only gotten a glimpse of, the one who shows up more and more as things go off the rails.
This is not the ice king with a barrier around him to rival the one that used to surround Olympus, keeping me at a distance.
I was grateful for the distance before. I’m not now.
I am well and truly fucked. “I hate you.”
He strokes his hands up my back to grip the nape of my neck. “Say it again. Try to sound like you mean it this time.”
Heat surges through me. Now’s the time to shove away. Dawn is barely a hint in the sky visible through our windows, but there’s so much to do and so many people depending on us. We can’t afford to spend any more time in bed. I can’t afford not to hate my husband.
Even knowing that, I lean in and speak my next words directly against his lips. “I hate you…most of the time.”
He smiles slowly. “I don’t believe you.”
I kiss him. There’s no other option to wipe the smug look off his face. Then my hands are in his hair and, fuck it, the world will go on spinning for another hour while we find what pleasure we can in each other.
While we find…comfort.