The Gods Forbid (Tempt the Gods Book 4)

Chapter 1

Persy

I had an interesting relationship with divinity.

For one, I was the daughter of two of the most powerful gods in history, and sister to the most. But on the other hand, I grew up knowing I’d never take power.

It took me a year to master the small well of power I was bestowed, whereas the firestorm my brother inherited still wreaked havoc.

But I was well aware that as a member of the divine, I was viewed as on par with the gods in most contexts. Especially given my family’s infamy.

That was why I’d decided early on that I wanted to do something with the privilege and power I’d been given. I had always believed that hurt people hurt people, that there was always something underneath someone’s rebellious acts.

So the day I got the okay from my parents to turn Prometheus, once a famed prison, into something that tried to help people recover from whatever pushed them into the reckless or the criminal, I took it.

It had been four years since I took over. Four years since I’d been a wide-eyed twenty year old who had to learn very quickly that while most could benefit and rehab their lives, there were some who couldn’t be fixed.

I wasn’t quite sure where the god sitting in front of me belonged. Whether evil had seeped so deeply into his bones that no one could extract it, or if circumstance had pushed him into this desperate corner where he recklessly tried to overthrow my brother.

He was sleeping, resting his large form against the hard stone gracefully.

It was quite impossible to ignore his beauty. His features looked like they’d been sculpted from marble by a master of their craft, his dark hair falling perfectly.

His eyes, though currently closed, were akin to an oil painting, a mess of every color imaginable—blue, green, gray, yellow, you name it.

And his form…that certainly had to be a product of his power. I was tall myself, standing at six feet, but he had at least half a foot on me, with shoulders large enough to eclipse the sun.

Strong hands that looked both able to command the heaviest of bows and balance a paintbrush with utmost care.

Such artistry in a man, and yet it was wasted on a reckless grab for even more power than he was already bestowed.

At the thought, I tapped lightly on the iron bars of the old cell, rusted and weak with lack of use.

Sebastian jolted awake before settling back into a graceful stance. When his eyes settled on me, his jaw turned to stone.

“Hello,” I said, and the word seemed to have the effect of a clanking bell on him. His muscles jerked, his jaw pulsing like he was trying to forcefully keep it closed. “You don’t have to speak. I’m not here to have a conversation, really. Just to let you know what your future looks like.”

Sebastian snorted sardonically, raising one dark eyebrow at me. The picture of doubt. “Your brother couldn’t have done it himself?”

Okay, so he was choosing the path of diversion, focusing all his energies on distancing emotion or guilt through sarcasm. I knew that type.

“My brother is with his wife, ensuring that she is in full health.” Something flickered across his face, but it was squashed as quickly as it appeared. “Besides, he and I are still not quite in agreement on how to move forward.”

Sebastian grinned, the stubble that had grown on his face over the past few days hiding the crease of his smile lines. “He accepts disagreement?”

There was an inch too much condescension in his tone. One that I would not accept, regardless of how much older he was than me, how much more powerful.

I’d been shoved into a corner my entire life, my soft-spoken, naturally optimistic nature mistaken for immaturity and naivety. “It won’t serve you well to act like I am someone who he—or anyone for that matter—can walk all over.”

“I would never assume so, love.” Sebastian had the nerve to look impressed at the strength of the tone I’d used. “Enlighten me on this disagreement.”

In reality, disagreement was a rather kind word for the fight Adrian and I had. He was still clearly panicked and reeling over the near loss of his wife and wanted nothing more than the worst for Sebastian.

After I let him get all of his anger out, while also watching a rather impressive change from him in the form of letting a mild rainstorm fall over Olympus rather than bearing down on his power and accidentally letting a lightning bolt fly, he settled enough for me to reason with him.

By the end of the conversation, he still wanted to impale Sebastian with a million tiny arrows, but he agreed with my final goal. It was what was best for our world. Adrian couldn’t disagree with that, his duty as king of the gods needing to eclipse his anger in this one instance.

I kept my answer to Sebastian short and chose a version of the truth to see what his reaction would be. “He would have you sitting in solitary confinement until he could figure out a way to work around the issue of your heirs. Then he’d kill you.”

There was a flash of something close to fear, but I couldn’t figure out if it was simply because Sebastian didn’t want to die or if it was something deeper. But then it was masked with nonchalance. That seemed like a pattern for him. “I don’t believe your brother has ever killed a person before. I’m not sure he’d have it in him.”

“You almost killed his wife, accidentally or otherwise. I wouldn’t doubt his anger in that regard.” My own was more of a mellow lick of flame, a soft rage at the fear of almost losing a dear friend. Of almost watching my brother fall to this man. “And if he hadn’t, you have two other gods waiting in line to extract the same payment.”

Dominic and Lukas had…shared their own desire for Sebastian to be reduced to a pile of ashes, complimented by both Rose and Daphne asking for a shot at him.

I would hold off on saying so for now, but I knew that a good bit of their collective anger and resentment stemmed from the fact that Sebastian had been a friend to all of them.

“But you disagree with that punishment?” Sebastian asked slowly, leaning forward to rest his arm on his bent knee.

“I do.” I’d been told I had a habit of speaking too bluntly, but I found I didn’t quite care with him.

My short response visibly kicked his interest higher, his frame coming an inch off the wall, leaning closer to me. “Why?”

I answered honestly, something Sebastian would soon learn I expected from him. “I don’t believe that you are without redemption.”

If I thought there was a cold mask on his face before, it was nothing compared to the frigid expression he wore now, as emotionless as a midnight, storm-riddled sky was black. “Extending me any sort of pity would be a mistake.”

“It’s not pity. In fact, that belief didn’t come from emotion at all.” I stepped up to the gate, sliding four intricate keys into the lock. One of which pierced my skin, requiring a drop of blood to slide the lock fully open. Once it clicked and released, I walked into the cell with him, closing and locking it behind me.

Sebastian reacted like a caged animal, immediately going stiff and flattening back against the cold stone wall like the chill was a better option than any sort of proximity to me.

Interesting.

I took a seat on the small stool on the opposite side of the cell, crossing my legs and fluffing the fabric of my tiered white skirt. Sebastian was watching my movements with the care that an artist would use to oversee his apprentice’s first solo attempt at a craft.

“I came to that conclusion through logic,” I said, continuing my answer. “You said that your plan had been three decades in the making. Which means that it clearly started with your parents, then passed down to you.”

Sebastian’s muscles locked up, the veins on his arms and hands popping. Alright, so that was a sore spot. “So, what, you think a little therapy will fix my childhood and make me into a better man?”

I chuckled softly. “You will be attending therapy, yes. But no, that is not the goal, necessarily.”

“What is?”

“For you to return as Apollo. You are well-liked. Respected, even. And I’d venture to say you enjoy your role.”

I was an observant person. More than a detective, my mother used to say. I was a rather shy child and had grown into an adult who often preferred silence and my own company. Which allowed me to watch people move about the world, cataloging things others missed.

And every time I’d seen Sebastian smile in a way that seemed real—not that charming, practiced half-grin that used to make me feel a little funny when I was younger and he’d come around with Adrian—it had been while he was surrounded by something of his patronage.

“You really expect me to believe Adrian wants me to return as a god?” Sebastian enunciated the words carefully, like he was inspecting each one as they left his mouth.

I nodded softly. “With conditions, of course. But yes.”

“And what are those conditions?”

You would think he was asking me to spell out the detailed plan for him to be tortured for years through constant pecks of a crow’s beak piercing his skin.

He may well feel the same about the plan I’d formulated with Adrian. “You spend six months with me, here in Prometheus. Working to heal whatever led you to this place. Helping tie up any loose ends still dangling from this plan, including developing an antidote for the poison you gave Reyna.” Oh, he did not like that. His nostrils flared and his pupils dilated the second the words left my mouth. But he stayed silent, letting me continue. “Then you get six months back out in the world. If you try to reorganize this conspiracy, you come back for another six months.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed, eclipsing just an inch of the watercolor in them. “Inspired by your namesake, love?”

I wasn’t going to acknowledge that nickname. For now. It was clearly intentional, either an attempt to rile me up or communicate confidence, despite his position.

“Yes,” I said plainly. I was named after Persephone, the wife of the very first Hades. While her story had been twisted and altered through the generations, one thing had been true. Persephone spent six months out of the year in the Underworld with her husband and six in the Upperworld, basking in the sunlight. “You are a storyteller yourself.” The storyteller. The Apollo line was known for producing our world’s most famous stories. “You ought to respect the inspiration, no?”

Sebastian’s chest heaved with a breath. “What makes you think that I will change in six months?”

“I’m quite confident in my methods.” I stood, smoothing out my skirt. “But we won’t be starting for a month.”

Sebastian scoffed, and even that sounded lyrical. “Yeah, why’s that?”

I folded my hands together in front of me. “As you so astutely pointed out, my brother is quite stubborn and has a vendetta the size of Olympus against you. The only way he agreed to this plan was for you to spend a month alone in this cell.”

Sebastian opened his mouth, likely to say some quip. I held up my hand, cutting him off. “Recognize how kind that is, all things considered.”

He rolled his full lips together, leashing his retort. Then he settled back against the wall. While I couldn’t do much about the cold stone covering this section of Prometheus, I had installed a fresh bed and side table and ensured the small connected bathroom worked well.

Someone would be along soon with hot food.

I stood, opening the door back up and catching my wince at the last second as the lock pricked my finger.

I lifted my eyes from the lock to find Sebastian studying me again with a deep observation that seeped into my bones.

“A month,” I said, softly. Though I was still quite angry with him, and certainly did not respect him, I still wasn’t the best enforcer of the harsher punishments. Even if this was nowhere near the level of pain that I’d been asked to inflict.

“Then the torture starts,” Sebastian responded as he let his head rest back against the wall and his eyes close again.

?

Sebastian

“Then the torture starts,” I said, my words as honest as any I’d managed for as long as I could remember. I collapsed back against the wall, forcing my eyes to close and hide Persy’s form as she turned to leave.

I would have taken death and an eternity in Tartarus over this.

Over being locked outside the world with a woman made of sunlight who thought she could do anything to cure my sins.