Chapter 37
Charisma
“Their magic lives within her,” the white-haired woman said at the crack of dawn, her hand cold as ice, settling on my chest. She glanced at Zeus, who observed us silently. “I believe that this is the information you asked of me, my King.”
I blinked, still unsure of who this woman was or what the purpose of her presence was.
“Yes, Lunara.” His steps inched closer, hands tucked behind his back. “Kill her. Ensure a painless death.”
“What? No.” I shook my head, tumbling off the ground as I struggled to get away from her. My eyes snapped to Zeus. “You can’t kill me.”
“Why not? Due to the bonding mark?” He laughed, crouching in front of me.
Zeus set his lips in a straight line, squinting.
“Foolish girl, entrusting in a god.” His fingers brushed a strand of hair off my face.
I winced, refusing to meet his eyes. “You must understand that this is not a personal matter, and I am bound to do what is necessary to protect my people.”
My teeth grit together. “And a human jeopardizes your safety?” I huffed, then spat into his face. He let the liquid trickle down his chin without wiping it away. “Pathetic.”
His pupils dilated just before turning white. Zeus’s fingers, cold and unyielding, squeezed my cheeks, the pressure making my teeth ache.
“You are more than merely a human—you represent a risk I am unwilling to take.” He got up, motioning at Lunara to begin.
With a grunt, I pushed into my palms and legs, my muscles screaming as I forced my limbs to straighten. The cold, damp stone bit into my skin as I blinked, struggling to clear my blurred vision.
I wasn’t crying. Was I?
A cough brought a fresh wave of agony through my skull. I glanced around me, checking one more time for an exit, though I knew it didn’t exist. During the time I had spent here, I came to realize the only way in and out was through veyrithing.
My nostrils flared as the smell of the contents of my stomach snuck in.
I would not die like this—in a pool of my own vomit, far from home and under the wrath of a psychotic god.
I would not die a prisoner, and I would not die accepting that my life had come to an end.
Every fiber of my being rebelled against the thought.
My fingers formed fists in front of me.
“It isn’t within your power to change this, mortal. Accept your fate.” Lunara smiled, her gray eyes sizing me up.
“Never,” I bit back with my entire strength.
“As you wish.”
If anything, my decision seemed to light something inside her. Her smile was broader, the frown on her face disappeared, and her gaze grasped me like a rope before her foot found its mark on my abdomen. I tumbled to the ground, the wind knocking out of me in a rush.
As I struggled to get up once more, Lunara’s mocking laugh filled the confined space.
Before she could attack again, I directed my gaze at Zeus. “Let me go back home, and I promise I’ll never return to Elythra. I’ll never bother you again, you’ll even forget I ever existed.”
“No.”
I pounced on Lunara, an animalistic growl erupting from my throat, and bit down on her ear, ripping it to shreds.
A metallic taste coated my tongue; her gasp morphing with her laugh just before she slammed me to the floor.
I spat out the bitter skin, the taste lingering, and wrapped my arms around my aching stomach, coughing.
My ribs throbbed with a dull ache that intensified with each shallow breath.
I brushed my fingers against the rough concrete, seeking purchase as the world tilted as she loomed over me, her shadow falling across my face.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief. I braced myself, waiting for the next strike.
But it never came.
“My King!” she howled, dropping to her knees in front of him, her fingers clawing at his pants.
Blood pooled in the center of his white shirt, his eyes wide as he took in the damage. The crimson stain spread quickly, ruining the pristine fabric. His breath hitched when his eyes met Lunara’s and he tested the liquid with his fingers, the texture causing a frown to touch his forehead.
What was happening? Did they find a way to stop him without the staff?
“Hera,” he managed, the name escaping his lips in a raspy whisper as pain twisted his features. His voice, usually a command, was now drowned in worry.
Lunara hovered her palms above his heart, shoulders tensing as gray magic poured into him. The air itself crackled with her raw power as the energy flowed from her fingertips—a desperate attempt to mend the irreparable.
“Step aside,” he growled, pushing the woman away with the strength he had left.
Hope, dangerous and blooming, began to form inside me. The bond seemed to spark back to life, celebrating before it was time to. I held my own breath, hoping that his next would be his last.
He didn’t give up on me. My eyes welled at the thought. I was secretly glad that he didn’t, even though I wished he would for our safety.
Zeus removed his shirt, and the absence of skin exposed the location of his beating heart. His chest rose and fell with rapid breaths; his face facing toward the ceiling as his lungs expanded with each new drop of blood that smeared his skin.
I bit my bottom lip, anticipating the moment he’d fall dead on the floor. When he died, how was I going to make it back? Did the gods have a plan for that as well? Did they know where I was?
“My King,” Lunara breathed, her trembling hands finding solace over her mouth.
Zeus’s jaw took on a pointed shape, and his eyelids sealed as the skin began to knit itself. The wound was shrinking, the edges of it drawing together.
No. No. No. No. Whatever they were doing wasn’t working.
Perhaps they needed help from me as well? But even as the thought flickered through my mind, a fresh surge of panic threatened to overwhelm me. We couldn’t fail. Not again.
Before the gap in his chest could close, I bolted toward him, my heart pounding in my ears, a frantic drum against the silence. My feet made scarcely a whisper before my hand was clamping down on his furiously pounding heart.
Zeus smiled, his skin tightening around my wrist. I pulled with gritted teeth, but I was too weak. My strength was depleted after days without food and water, and I felt as frail as a child.
Come on, I thought.
Feeling the blood’s warmth, I tugged even harder, my hands slick with it. His heart didn’t move. It pounded violently between my fingers, refusing to yield.
For a moment, Zeus’s gaze softened. “Under different conditions, I would have been fond of you.” With effortless strength, he pushed my hand out of his chest. “Farewell, Charisma Sinclair.”
His warm fingertips gently rested on my neck, a deceptively tender touch that sent a shiver of pure terror down my spine.
His grip tightened. I kicked, lashing out with my leg, desperation fueling my movements.
My shoe connected with his shin, and I followed with a furious swipe of my fingernails against his cheeks, drawing lines of crimson.
The attempts were futile. He barely reacted.
“Please,” I whispered, tears rolling freely down my face as the ragged plea sprung out of my throat. “Please.”
Zeus’s lips twitched, and the world narrowed to a single point of contact—his face. There was only him—the King of them all— with eyes of glacial ice and the undeniable truth: he was going to kill me, and there was absolutely nothing I could do.
I gulped, the air thick and heavy in my lungs.
As the inevitable approached, and the finality of the moment slammed into me, I closed my eyes, my eyelashes drowning in the pouring tears.
The darkness behind my eyelids became a canvas of memories.
I saw my mother, her beautiful face smiling at me.
Her tortured whispers that had broken my heart over and over.
Her dazzling green eyes. Through those images of her, a phantom presence lingered: Eros.
His intoxicating scent. His full lips. His laughter, echoing with a soothing melody.
Then, as I swam through those recollections, clinging to them, a sickening crack echoed, loud and abrupt, splitting the silence in the room.
A blinding light consumed everything, followed by immediate darkness. And everything went black.