Chapter 30 Charisma
Charisma
“Wake up,” a soft whisper, a voice all too familiar, one I hoped not to hear in this circumstance brushed against my ears.
I groaned, spine stiff as a statue’s. My eyelids refused to obey, remaining shut. “You . . . have to leave.” The words scarcely met the air, my swallow a disturbing sound in my parched throat.
There were so many things I wished to say. How foolish he was for coming after me. How he put his life and his friend’s at risk for me. How he should’ve directed his attention to finding a way to kill Zeus, not to save me.
He didn’t listen. His arm slipped under my knees, lifting me off the ground with ease. Of their own accord, my hands found his neck, curling around it despite my previous resistance. He was so warm compared to the concrete floor. I sighed in his embrace, too tired to put up a fight.
Strangely, the familiar comfort was absent. The bond didn’t stir, nor purr happily at his presence. It just . . . existed somewhere deep inside me. Sleeping. Waiting.
“Zeus shall suffer for this, Charisma.”
My eyes snapped open. Eros’s ravishing blond hair sat on his forehead, eyebrows tight with worry as he assessed all the damage his king had done to me. His lips pursed, grip tightening on my back and legs.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” I breathed, settling into his chest. “I love you.”
Eros smiled. “I love—”
I drove my head into his chin before the words could tumble out of his mouth, freeing myself of his grasp. With a thud, I landed on the floor, biting my lip as a loud crack filled the room.
Zeus laughed, shifting back into his own skin. “Clever mortal. What revealed my secret?” I could swear I saw the crashing of waves in his pupils, framed by the white of his eyes. It was gone before I could decide if it was a depiction of my mind.0
Calling me Charisma. The bond not reacting. Telling me he loved me. Instead, I told him, “As if I would ever tell you,” and crawled back to the wall.
“That is unfortunate,” he said, his footsteps inching closer to me. “I own valuable information now, and I question your current value to me. Artemis, Hades, Athena, and . . . Eros.” I froze, cursing under my breath. He couldn’t know. “Do these names have any significance for you?”
“No,” I croaked, turning to face him as I sat against the cold concrete.
“Liar.” He smiled, showing me his teeth.
Zeus placed his hands behind his back, pacing in front of me.
“I am curious—what is the reason for concealing your identity? You believed I wouldn’t realize you are a key?
Is this a matter of amusement to you? Or perhaps you truly thought you could deceive everyone?
” He squinted, crouching before me. “How did you achieve this?”
I frowned. “Achieve what?”
Zeus tilted his head. “You appear to be quite perplexed, as though this is a novel concept to you. Did you use dark magic to obscure the secrets from your own mind?” He nodded to himself, not offering me a chance to reply. “Interesting,” was all he said before disappearing.
He knew. He knew who plotted against him. What would he do to them? How did he find out? I bit my bottom lip, letting my head hit the wall.
They were four gods against one. He couldn’t hurt them, I lied to myself.
“You’re getting boring,” I told him, blinking at the sight of Yvonne’s face. My heart halted in my chest, her death a living image inside my mind. “If this is your idea of torture, you’re failing. I won’t fall for your magic tricks, so you might as well stop.”
Zeus became himself once more, shaking his head.
“You are ruining my amusement.” Keeping his gaze on me, he spoke again, white flashing inside his eyes.
“If I were to torment you while appearing as Eros, how would you feel? Would you be capable of ever looking at him again?” Zeus smirked as my mask faltered. “Ahh, there you are.”
He lifted his hand into the air, morphing into Eros as he punched my jaw as hard as he could. I closed my eyes, and the taste of blood mixed with the clatter of my tooth striking the ground.
“Look at me!” Zeus thundered.
But I didn’t listen and pressed my eyelids tighter.
He’s not him, I told myself as he landed hit after hit.
This is not Eros; I forced myself to remember as his voice was the only evidence of the person whose skin Zeus took.
Eros would never harm me, I repeated as a mantra in my head with each pool of blood I spilled on the floor.
Eros would never laugh while I suffered, I thought as I lost consciousness.
“Charisma, get up. We’re running out of time.”
My throat was so parched it felt like cracking from the inside, every swallow scraping against the walls like dry sand, and my eyelids sagged, thick and swollen, twitching with exhaustion.
Zeus was back again, tormenting me for his own pleasure. My limbs were like cement, refusing to move and I couldn’t bear to open my eyes to look at a familiar face again in this environment.
As the hours—or days—passed, I began to doubt the protection the bond offered me. Strangely, I scarcely felt it anymore. Perhaps because I became too numb to feel anything.
“Leave . . . me . . . alone,” I muttered, wincing as my lip throbbed.
I just wanted to sleep through the pain. To forget it existed.
“It’s me, little dove, your mother.” The gentle murmur brushed against my ears, carrying the familiar warmth I had longed to hear. Something inside me loosened at the sound, the tightness in my chest easing as if the mere melody of her voice was soothing it away.
With effort, my eyelids obeyed my command, opening to her face. My mother’s long, red hair cascaded down her shoulders, cupping her sharp chin. When she lifted her hand and caressed my cheek with her fingers, a tear slid down my face.
“You’re not real,” I whispered.
But she called me little dove. Zeus couldn’t know that. I shook my head, dismissing the thought. It wouldn’t be difficult for him to find out.
“Let’s get you out of here.” My mother blinked, showing me her jade eyes as tears welled inside them. “I told you they were coming, little dove, and I prepared for this moment my entire life. Zeus will not have you.” Her lips pursed, a silent promise of the future.
“You’re not real,” I repeated, though my gaze wouldn’t leave her. She was so beautiful. Zeus, no doubt, believed this would hurt me, but seeing her—it was a welcome sight, the sun after a storm. After what he had done to me, this was a gift.
“I’m sorry,” I breathed between quiet sobs, remembering the shameful words I said when Eros and I bonded. “I’m so sorry.” My head found her shoulder, and the moment her palm smoothed down my hair, I broke into a million pieces.
Memories of my time in Elythra flashed before my eyes. Arianna’s death. Nicolas’s pain. The wounds on Georgie’s body. Zeus killing them all.
I didn’t know how long I stood there, weeping in my mother’s arms, clawing at her dress with my fingers, but it wasn’t until bile rose in my throat that she stepped aside.
Vomit erupted from my throat, despite my growling stomach, meeting the ground with forceful weight.
By the time I was done, my chest was heaving, palms coming on the ground for support.
“I almost feel a sense of pity toward you,” Zeus mocked.
I looked at him over my shoulder, trying to wrap my head around the furrow of his brows.
He tilted his head, offering me a nod as the vomit pooled underneath me. “I shall return at a later time.”
Alone at last, my crying grew louder. I tugged at my hair, the roots stinging as they tore free. Now that I’d looked at her, felt her; the memory of her scent lingered, and I realized how far I was from seeing at her again.
If I was ever going to see her again.