5. Medusa #2
“They’re like your personal bouncers,” Perseus said, gently leaning back as the snakelets continued to hover protectively between them. “Guess the jury’s still out.”
“Yeah,” she sighed, trying not to smile as the snakelets slowly settled again, though they kept a watchful eye on Perseus. “They’re not easy to win over.”
“I love a challenge,” he murmured, flashing her a grin that made her heart trip all over again.
Medusa rolled her eyes, though a smile tugged at her lips. “Careful, hero. Keep talking like that and you’ll end up with more than you bargained for.”
He leaned in closer, voice low. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want.”
Heat flushed through her cheeks, but before she could retort, a sudden yawn overtook her, reminding her how exhausted she was. She realized she’d need to tuck the snakelets safely under her scarf before sleeping—just in case Charlotte decided to pop in.
“Come on, girls,” she murmured, carefully guiding them with gentle fingers. “I promise you’ll get to stretch out later.”
The snakelets responded with annoyed hissing and tiny writhes of protest, scales flickering in irritation.
Across from her, Perseus watched the entire operation with barely restrained amusement, his mouth curved in a lopsided grin.
“Can you believe these drama queens?” she huffed at him, tugging the scarf securely into place.
The snakelets let out an affronted chorus of hisses, which only made Perseus chuckle.
Medusa shot him a mock glare before settling into a lie-flat bed, the warmth lulling her toward sleep.
The steady drone of the engines and the soft hum of the cabin soon faded into a comforting backdrop, pulling her into a deep rest.
When she finally stirred awake, Perseus was already leaning toward her with a calm expression. “We have to refuel in Hawaii.”
Before she could respond, Charlotte appeared again, her professional smile a little tighter than earlier. “I’m afraid we’ll need to extend the layover. There’s bad weather moving in our path, and we can’t take off until it clears.”
Perseus only shrugged. “No problem.”
But Medusa’s stomach knotted, thinking of the timeline of her heat. Still, she forced herself to exhale. She’d deal with it later. No use spiraling just yet.
Charlotte gave a brighter smile. “Looks like we’ll leave a couple of hours later. You’d have time to head into town if you’d like.”
Medusa perked up. She’d seen Hawaii in Upperworld movies and TV shows, and the idea of exploring it in real life thrilled her. “That would be amazing!”
Perseus stretched his arms overhead. “We could hit the boardwalk, maybe the beach.”
They landed in Honolulu under a brilliant blue sky, the ocean winking with sunlight as far as the eye could see. Warm, fragrant breezes slipped through the open doors of the airport as Perseus and Medusa stepped onto the tarmac, blinking into the tropical glare.
A short while later, they were strolling along a palm-fringed walkway beside Waikīkī Beach. Waves crashed gently onto the sand, and the scent of salt and plumeria perfumed the air. Tourists milled about in bright clothes, surfers rode glassy swells, and ukulele music floated from a nearby pavilion.
Medusa paused, kicking off her sandals to sink her toes into the warm, powdery sand. “I could get used to this.”
Perseus chuckled, sliding his sunglasses down his nose. “Don’t get too comfy. Next stop is Bolivia, remember?”
“Trust me, I haven’t forgotten. So…what’s the plan for Bolivia?”
“We’re heading to a village up in the mountains. It’s famous because, for generations, a surprising number of families there keep having…triplets.”
Medusa tipped her head, intrigued. “Ah. That makes sense.”
“It does?”
She gave him a small, knowing smile. “Geryons originally have three heads. The triplet thing could be a sign of their bloodline showing up in mortals.”
Perseus whistled low. “See, this is why I bring you along. I’d have just thought it was weird genetics.”
Medusa grinned and nudged his shoulder. “It is weird genetics. Just…divine weird genetics.”
They continued their stroll along the beach, weaving between families building sandcastles and couples holding hands, the laughter of children echoing over the surf.
Medusa found herself slowing, her eyes drifting to clusters of siblings squabbling good-naturedly, parents chasing toddlers through the shallows.
A sharp ache squeezed her chest. She missed her sisters.
Perseus noticed her silence and studied her. “What’s up?”
Medusa blinked and tried for a smile, though it wobbled at the edges. “I was just…thinking about my family.”
“You’re close?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice softening as the memories washed over her. “Very. Gorgons…we’re not raised in individual households like humans or even most gods. All the kids are raised together, in one big group. It’s…chaotic.”
Perseus snorted. “Sounds like it could be drama city.”
“Oh, it is,” she said, a genuine laugh escaping her. “We fight all the time, we steal each other’s stuff, there’s yelling and sulking. But we’re also incredibly close because of it. Like…one giant, dysfunctional, snake-haired sorority.”
She bit her lip, her eyes misting despite her smile.
“Hey,” Perseus murmured and slipped his arm around her shoulders.
Medusa hesitated for only a heartbeat, then leaned in, nuzzling into the curve of his chest.
He wrapped both arms around her, holding her as the ocean breeze tugged at her scarf and the distant surf roared like applause.
But even as she let herself sink into the comfort of his hug, a shadow tugged at the edges of her thoughts. She couldn’t tell him the real reason for the tightness in her chest—that her sisters’ safety hinged on secrets she was keeping from him.
So she just held him tighter, hoping he couldn’t feel the guilt thrumming beneath her skin.
She looked up at him, and suddenly they were perfectly aligned, face to face. Even through the protective tint of her glasses, she felt the magnetic pull between them, like gravity drawing her forward.
Perseus’s gaze dipped to her lips, and her breath hitched. They inched closer, caught in that shimmering moment before a kiss…
But Medusa quickly pulled back with a soft laugh. “Careful. The girls might get jealous.”
He let out a low chuckle as she slipped out of his arms.
The cool breeze did little to soothe the warmth lingering on her lips. She couldn’t help thinking how much had changed between them. Only days ago, he could barely hide his contempt for her. Now…he felt dangerously close to something more.
She drew a steadying breath and decided she couldn’t ignore it.
“This is the second time I’ve wanted to kiss you,” she blurted out.
Perseus arched an eyebrow, a grin tugging at his mouth. “I noticed.”
Medusa rolled her eyes but kept going. “I think we should keep things professional. You know…since we have to work together.”
“I get it,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I don’t know if I want to do that.”
She swallowed hard, biting back the truth clawing at her chest: We should definitely keep things professional…because you’re probably gonna hate me after all this.
Instead, she gave him a teasing grin. “Please. We’re two responsible adults. We can totally handle platonic sexual tension for the next several weeks. Easy.”
Perseus burst out laughing, the sound rolling over her like a wave. “Yeah. Totally easy.”
“Come on,” she said, nudging him playfully. “I’m not done seeing all the best views.”
So they continued their stroll along the beach, the ocean breeze cool against her heated cheeks.
The thrum of the helicopter blades echoed like a giant heartbeat as they soared over snow-draped peaks, the white ridges gleaming under a crystalline sky.
Below them, nestled in a fold of the Cordillera Real, Valle Trigénico lay cradled in swirling drifts of perpetual winter, an entire village dusted in sparkling frost.
Medusa pressed closer to the window, her breath fogging the glass. “The snow is amazing,” she murmured.
The pilot’s voice crackled through the headsets they all wore. “Microclimate,” he said over the din of the rotors. “This valley has snow all year round.”
Medusa managed a faint smile, though a dull pounding had begun behind her eyes the moment they’d arrived in La Paz.
The thin air gnawed at her temples, warning of altitude sickness she desperately hoped wouldn’t flare into something worse.
Especially with the other thing looming over her—her mating heat, creeping closer day by day.
She stole a glance at Perseus, wondering if he could sense her tension. But he was staring out the opposite window, his jaw set, lost in the endless expanse of white.
They landed softly on a snow-packed clearing ringed with low stone walls. The rotor wash sent flurries swirling as a figure emerged from a nearby outbuilding—a broad-shouldered man in a wool-lined cloak the color of river stones, a thick scarf wound around his neck.
“Welcome to Valle Trigénico,” he called in accented English, voice warm despite the cold. “I’m Qhatu. I’ll be your guide here.”
Medusa managed a polite nod, but a spike of pain lanced across her temples, and she winced, pressing her gloved fingers to her forehead.
Qhatu’s gaze swept her face. “Altitude sickness?”
“Yes,” she admitted, voice tight. “I just had it in Nepal, and I took the pills, but I was hoping…” She trailed off with a grimace. I should have taken some of the thornberry tea too.
He nodded sympathetically. “It can come and go unexpectedly here. The air is thin and…particular.” He gestured toward a trail leading down toward the village. “But you’re in luck—we have a ritual that helps new arrivals adjust. The Rite of Triple Breath.”
Perseus glanced at her, one brow raised. “Triple Breath?”