Chapter 14
Charisma
My limbs locked as I watched Shadow disappear into the night, leaving only a trail of peony scent behind. I blinked, my eyelashes ghosting over my slender cheekbones while I stood there, the moment settling on me like dust.
Contemplating, I swept my teeth over my bottom lip. Even if I agreed to the Shadow’s first task—solely because of that vision—a nagging doubt, like a discordant note, still lingered.
My survival was at the mercy of the God of Love, but for what reason? Wasn’t I supposed to be just a pawn in their twisted games like the others? Wasn’t the game the only reason I should be frightened for my life?
I dug my nails into my palms. The god’s bed was where I had to spend my remaining nights; the only way to convince them of my love for him.
The idea sounded stupid, like a joke. Despite my best efforts to find the logic of it, pretending to love a god for my safety made no sense.
Except . . .
The thought of it scrambled my brain, like wires crossed.
When Zeus realized his powers were ineffective against me, I was sure his next move would be a harsh reminder of my insignificance, and yet nothing came.
Or at least I believed so. The whole God of Love and Shadow matter had to be Zeus’s handiwork.
I could sense the malevolent tactics Zeus might use to exploit my love for a god, but I couldn’t see any benefit if he forced me to fake affection for one.
Wait.
Zeus didn’t want me to pretend to have feelings for the God of Love. He wanted for me to be completely infatuated with him, so he could control and influence me to do his bidding since he lacked the ability to do so on his own.
My lips pressed together in a thin, rigid line. In the end, it turned out that the Shadow had, in fact, been truthful. His orders were meant as a warning, though I had initially perceived them as a jest.
It was possible that Shadow was not something Zeus had planned, but a risk he hadn’t foreseen—that someone could overhear and foil his plan.
Still, his willingness to help me remained elusive. Unless he shared my hatred for Zeus. Perhaps Shadow was the ally I was looking for?
“Oh my gods! You have to wear something . . . what would you call it on Earth? Sassy?”
I rolled my eyes, observing his furrowed brow and the way he chewed his lip as he contemplated clothing choices. “Tell me more about Elythra.”
226688 took a deep breath. “Well, it’s the largest planet in the universe, with a smaller planet within. That planet is called Nytherae, a realm of the lesser gods and known as the place where the Underworld resides. We are now in Olympus, the main city of Elythra.”
With a snap of his fingers, my clothing disappeared, and the material of a new set of clothes grazed against my skin. I shook my head.
“What are lesser gods?”
“Despite their height and longevity, they spend their lives the same way humans do. Their access to magic solely focuses on cultivating, harvesting, or building. To enter Elythra’s grounds, a lesser god must have a spotless record, free of any disobedience or crimes, before they can attempt to appease Helestyhs. ”
I frowned. “Helestyhs?”
He smiled, nodding. “Yes. It is a phenomenon when the moon and sun move toward each other. Long ago, the lesser gods were prohibited from entering Elythra. It was then that a rebellion started, and our king decided to offer them a chance. Every year, during the Helestyhs, the worthy have to sacrifice the person they love most, and so their path to Elythra begins.”
My heart dropped. He couldn’t be serious. “You call Zeus giving those poor people a chance when he asks them to kill their loved ones?”
226688 shrugged, his gaze faltering to the ground.
“That is how things work here, and he is the king after all. He believes that making such a sacrifice is a testament to their true resolve in moving past their tough times and pursuing a better life,” as he said those words, his fingers curled into fists around his body, mouth pursed into a straight line.
He cleared his throat. “Now, stand still.”
He changed my outfit once again, and even before my chin lowered to my chest, and I slid a glance across my body, I knew the 226688’s work wouldn’t be to my liking. There was no way, not in hell or the Underworld for that matter, I’d go out dressed like this.
“Eh? What do you think?” He wiggled his brows, a smirk painting his mouth.
“Are you serious?”
226688 blushed. “What? You look like you just walked out of Mount Olympus itself! You are truly sassy.”
“It’s called sexy, and I’m not wearing lace garters and a nightgown. Change my clothes,” I said, my jaw locked.
“You’re going to sleep in the God of Love’s chamber. Don’t you think it would be suitable to wear something sexy?”
“No. The Shadow said to rest in his chamber, not to be intimate with him,” I murmured, playing with the hem of the nightgown. “Perhaps I can hide under his bed and leave in the morning. It will still count as sleeping there.” My shoulders shrugged as the attempt of a joke slipped past my lips.
226688 grimaced. “That’s weird. Like Xochipilli weird.”
Did he just compare me with the God of Art, Flowers and Hallucinogens?
I almost rolled my eyes. “My point still stands. I don’t need to bed him.”
“Well, you don’t need to, but you definitely can. It will help ease the stress!” He laughed, and when he noted my expression, he sobered, clearing his throat. “Your loss. Now, how’s this?”
I shook my head at the tight dress. The fairy suggested more outfits, but my head continued to shake in disapproval.
“Fine,” he grunted. “You could’ve just told me you wanted something boring. Here.”
This time, I breathed a sigh of contentment, my fingers tracing the red silk of the nightgown. “This will do.”
My feet made a dull thud as they landed, and a sudden, sharp pain exploded in my head. I hissed, and my eyes squeezed shut against the sudden jolt, cursing the gods for the consequences of teleportation.
“You said . . . it will get . . . better,” I snapped, fighting through the agony. “I’m still waiting for better.” I crouched, catching my head between my palms as tears rolled down my cheeks.
“Oh, hush. It can’t be that bad.”
My head whipped toward him, eyes burning. I reached out with my hand, tempted to catch his head between two fingers and show him just how bad it was.
A slanted, down-turned smile tugged at his lips, his chin dipping low as he flew a few steps behind. “I take it back! I take it back!”
I waited for the pain to cease, my jaw clenched as my hand dropped limp beside my body. By the time the throbbing in my head began to subside, my cheeks were already drenched with tears. My soles pressed into the ground when I rose.
“What now?” I asked, taking a moment to survey my surroundings and wipe my cheeks clean.
As much as I wanted to give my full attention to the meticulously maintained gardens, bursting with vibrantly colored flowers; crimson roses, sunny yellow daffodils, and regal purple irises, and the inviting pools adorned with breathtakingly beautiful statues, my eyes moved instinctively to the tall, imposing house that stood in front of me.
The air hung still and heavy with the scent of night-blooming jasmine as I approached the edifice.
Tall, gleaming columns flanked its entrance, their surfaces reflecting the ethereal glow of the moon.
The lunar light cast long shadows on the wide, white stone steps leading up to a front door painted a deep red.
I imagined the interior was as breathtaking as the exterior.
“This is the God of Love’s house,” 226688 said with an enamored smile, then shook his head as if recovering from a dream. “I’ll be waiting for you in the morning to veyrith you back to your chamber.”
With that, he disappeared into thin air.
My limbs trembled as I ascended the stairs, each step carefully measured, and I sucked in a deep breath of the stale air.
I could do this. Assuming my suspicions were correct, I needed to ensure Zeus wouldn’t know his plan failed, and to prevent that from happening, I had to walk inside this house. There was no going back.
A metal plaque, cold to the touch, caught my eye just as I readied my fist to knock.
My skin prickled with unease. Gross.
I was aware how being a God of Love required certain skills and hobbies, but was it truly necessary to advertise them on the door?
What perplexed me was that he asked strangers or neighbors to set up a privacy bubble—meant presumably for what the name of it implied—rather than initiating it himself.
Did he take delight in the idea that his partner’s sounds of enjoyment were reverberating for everyone to hear?
A warm shiver, like a spark, ran down my spine and ignited a strange fire in the pit of my stomach. Ignoring the unsettling sensation, I finally brought my knuckles to the door.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Three times. My arm fell to my side, teeth sinking into my bottom lip. The knock was scarcely perceptible. Perhaps deep down, I hoped he wouldn’t hear the faint noise.
A sigh rolled past my tongue. There was no backing out. I had to persuade him to open the door and hope he’d let me stay the night.
I put some effort into my second attempt, slamming my fists into the wood loud enough that it was impossible for him not to hear, no matter his location inside the house.
With a click of my tongue, I drew my hand back and waited. I swayed, feeling the tension in my back as I leaned, and the fabric of my clothes stretched tight as I shifted my weight from my heels to the front.
Was he not home? My mouth twitched upward. I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of returning to my chamber—not in the slightest—but how could I go back and admit defeat?
Perhaps he had a someone over. Unease clawed at my throat at the thought. That would be extremely uncomfortable to witness.
I shuddered, preparing to knock again in an effort to disperse the view from my mind, but the door opened before I could.