10. Perseus
Perseus
A man’s eighteenth birthday is meant to be a joyful occasion.
Indeed, Perseus Gialamas couldn’t have been any happier.
It was the height of summer, and he was about to start classes at UBC in the fall.
His brother Theo planned a big bash at their weekend cabin for all their school friends—no parents, tons of food, and, thanks to a few friends who were of legal drinking age, enough kegs of beer to get a group of teenagers wasted.
Jenny Garcia, the girl he’d been crushing on for months, would also be there, and Perseus figured he might as well make his move since he wouldn’t see her after the summer.
But today, on his actual birthday, he’d spent it with his family—his parents, his brother, and his sisters.
His mother had reserved a private room at a fancy restaurant downtown, where they were served a magnificent meal by a world-renowned chef, course after course of fine French fusion cuisine.
Then, at the end of the night, the waitstaff brought out a cake, and they all sang “Happy Birthday.” Mom was all smiles as she took a video of the entire thing.
Dad hugged and congratulated him, telling him how proud he was of the man he’d grown up to be.
When they arrived back home, Perseus thanked everyone in his family, then headed back to his room.
Since it was his birthday, Dad let him have a few glasses of wine.
He was more than a little tipsy when he stumbled into his room and plopped facedown on the bed.
The wine had definitely gotten to his head.
Which is why when he heard the booming voice, he thought he’d been hallucinating.
“Perseus.”
He raised his head. “Huh?”
“Perseus, get up.”
His wolf’s hackles raised, warning him of danger. His mind quickly sobered, and he scrambled to his feet. “What the fuck?” His head whipped around, looking for the intruder. “Where the hell are you hiding?”
A laugh echoed throughout the room. “I’m not hiding. I’m right here.”
Every single hair on Perseus’s body stood on end as a wave of power surged in his room.
In a shimmer of light, the figure appeared. A tall, hulking man with golden curls. Eyes of an indescribable color.
Every instinct in his soul told him this was no man.
“Who are you?”
The tall, imposing figure stood nearly seven feet tall, dressed in a short white robe that showed off his muscled arms and powerful legs. Gold and leather bracelets wrapped around his wrists. His golden hair was thick and tousled, his skin tanned, teeth perfect and white.
“That is not the right question,” he said. “It’s not about who I am. But who you are.”
“Me?”
“Do you want to know who you really are, Perseus Gialamas?” The man with the golden curls smiled, his eyes twinkling in delight.
“What do you mean who I am? “
“Your true identity, Perseus. Where you came from. Who you are, and more important, who you are meant to be.”
The man’s voice was like honey, smooth and tempting.
“Let me tell you…who your father truly is.” He paused. “He is none other than Zeus, God of Lightning and King of Olympus.”
The name didn’t register at first. It seemed impossible. Surely someone else would have known.
“No one knows, not even your mother.”
“She didn’t know who he was?”
The man’s grin widened, revealing a set of perfect white teeth.
“Yes, she didn’t know who I really was.”
Blood roared in Perseus’s ears. “No, you can’t be.”
“Yes, I am.” The God of Lightning’s voice boomed louder. “And you are my son. I’ve been waiting for eighteen years, watching you from afar. Finally, this day has come.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, you are my halfling son, and you must fulfill the prophecy.”
“Prophecy? What prophecy?”
Zeus waved a hand, and a golden circle appeared between them.
At first, Perseus thought the god had conjured a mirror, but his reflection didn’t appear, and in its place were three feminine figures standing in a row—an old, white-haired woman, a sweet-faced matron, and a beautiful girl. Their mouths began to move.
“Power you will have, if you seize it
Only then will you be crowned king of the heavens
But the end will come and you will be unseated
Only your halfling offspring will prevail
A beast of nature who speaks your name will free you
And the crown will finally rest on the mighty head.”
The images dissipated, leaving only Perseus’s reflection. When the mirror disappeared, he stood face-to-face with Zeus.
“It’s you, my son,” he said. “You were meant to fulfill the prophecy. My halfling wolf shifter son. When the time comes and my enemies come for me, you will be the only one to free me so that I may keep the crown of Olympus.”
“No!”
“Yes. Yes, you are. Say it. Then you can come with me to Olympus and eat the golden apple and become a god. But first, you must say my name, acknowledge me as your father. You will have immortality, power, riches beyond your imagination. Say my name, and everything you ever wanted will be yours.”
A menacing grin spread across Zeus’s mouth as he stretched his arms out dramatically.
“Say my name and only then will you have the power to fulfill the prophecy.”
A maelstrom of emotions churned through Perseus. So many of them rushed through him so quickly, he could barely keep up.
Uncertainty. Fear. Anxiety. Surprise. Guilt.
However, when his inner turmoil quieted down, there was only one emotion left.
“Alright,” he said. “I’ll say it.”
“Excellent, my son,” he beamed. “There ? —”
“One thing.” Perseus held up a hand. “I’ll say it…if you say her name.”
Zeus frowned, his face a mask of confusion. “Her? Who are you talking about?”
“My mother.” He could barely keep his lips from trembling as he clenched his fingers into fists. “Say her name first, and I’ll acknowledge you as my father.”
“I…uh…”
The bewildered expression on the mighty god’s face would have been hilarious if Perseus wasn’t seething with rage. “Well? Go ahead. Say her name.”
Zeus cleared his throat. “You see, son ? —”
“You don’t even know, do you?” he screamed. “You don’t remember her, much less her name, do you? She was nothing to you, just another woman you fucked behind your wife’s back.”
“How dare you!” Zeus thundered. “You ungrate ? —”
“I’m not done, asshole!” he interrupted. “You got my mother pregnant, left her alone, and left her to die with a broken heart. I will never, ever forgive you for that. You are not my father. The man who raised me was my father. As far as I’m concerned, you don’t exist.”
“Bastard!” Zeus’s voice shook the walls of his room, but Perseus did not cower. “You’ll regret this.”
“I doubt it.”
“You are nothing,” Zeus spat. “You were born as a nothing, you will die as a nothing. Your name will be forgotten in a hundred years.”
“At least the people who love me will remember me.”
Perseus gasped, desperately trying to get some air into his lungs. When he could finally breathe, his body relaxed. Voices swirled around him. Disjointed and muddled, but he managed to catch a few words here and there.
“…he tried to get up!” said a feminine voice.
“The healing coma is working….”
“Oh, thank….”
“When…fully recover…doctor?”
“…damage was neurological…brain…lack of oxygen…can’t say….”
Perseus tried to speak, but his mouth refused to open. Then, the edges of his vision blurred, and he was pulled into the depths of sleep once more.
He was back in his room again.
Eighteen again.
Facing his own reflection in the magical mirror.
Then his image melted away.
And three women stared back.
The same three women.
“Perseus Gialamas,” the young one said. “Do you know who you are?”
Before he could speak, the matron continued. “Your true identity, where you came from?”
“Ahh, but sisters,” the crone cackled. “We’ve been through this. The boy knows his past.”
“But not his future,” the young one sighed.
“Do you know my future?” Perseus found himself asking.
“We do,” the matron replied.
“Or we don’t,” the crone corrected. “Prophecies are such fluid, fluctuating beasties, aren’t they?”
“The future is written and unwritten,” the young one said mysteriously.
The matron clucked her tongue. “Or it can be interpreted in different ways. Take the mighty Zeus, for example. Or so he thinks, that he is the mighty one.”
The crone clasped her hands together. “He believes that his halfling child is meant to free him from his bonds and put him back on the throne.”
“But the other thinks differently,” the young one added. “The other thinks the halfling will seize the power and take the crown himself.”
“What are you talking about?” Perseus asked.
Three sets of eyes stared at him. “Perseus Gialamas, we are here to warn you. Danger haunts you. A powerful force wants to destroy you.”
“They can fucking try to end me,” he growled.
“They almost did end you,” the three said, continuing to speak in unison. “And they may still come back to get you.”
“Because of the prophecy?”
Three heads nodded. “The other seeks all of Zeus’s halfling children, to destroy them. So he may take the crown for himself.”
“His children. My half brothers and sisters, you mean?”
“You were not the first and not the last of the god of lightning’s offspring.” The three began to fade away. “Beware the other and remember this conversation.”
“Wait!” He reached out, but his hand went right through the mirror. “Who is he? Who is this ‘other’? Is he going to try to kill me again?”
But his fingers only reached for air.
As his eyes snapped open.
“You’re awake!”
A small hand clutched at his. Glancing down, he found Psyche standing beside the bed, hazel eyes wide as she stared down at him. “Where…how…”
“You’ve been in a healing coma,” she said.
“How long?”
“Two weeks.”
“Two…weeks?” He attempted to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over him.
“Don’t try to get up,” Psyche admonished, pushing him back down. “Your body needs time to adjust.”
He stared up at the white ceiling of a room he recognized as one of the Vancouver pack’s guest cabins. “Why am I out here?”