Chapter 15 Ophelia
Ophelia
My muscles are screaming.
We've been at this for hours, me standing in the greenhouse surrounded by plants that refuse to listen, Hecate circling me like a predator, her voice cutting through my exhaustion with surgical precision.
For someone with long ass acrylic nails in a bright neon green, she's scary as fuck. She's also mean when we are training, and I feel like I am back at school trying my best, only this time, someone is smacking my knuckles with a ruler every time I get something wrong.
"Feel the life," she says for the hundredth time, as though I need a reminder. "It's all around you. In the soil. In the roots. In every cell of every plant in this space."
I close my eyes, trying to do what she's asking. Trying to sense something, anything that feels like the power that's supposedly mine.
Nothing. I never feel anything. Whatever life I'm supposed to grab onto, I never feel it because it's not there.
"Persephone could do this in her sleep," Hecate continues, and I hear the deliberate edge in her voice. "She could make an entire garden bloom with a thought. A touch. She was life itself."
"Well, I'm not Persephone," I snap, opening my eyes. "We've established this."
"Clearly. She listened."
I snarl under my breath.
"Persephone was always so powerful. Maybe you're right. Maybe we were wrong."
I glare. I'm not Persephone. I've made that abundantly clear. But the problem is that I don't feel like Ophelia either.
This version of me? Trapped in a penthouse, discovering I have powers I can't access, having memories that aren't mine, wanting a man who continuously pulls away from me. Yeah, I have zero sense of self at the moment.
"Again," Hecate snaps. "Focus on the potted plant in front of you. Feel its energy. Encourage it to grow."
I stare at the sad little succulent. It stares back, unimpressed. It feels like it's mocking me.
"Persephone would have—"
"Stop," I interrupt, my voice shaking. "Stop comparing me to her. I'm trying. I'm fucking trying, but every time you mention her, it's like—"
"Like what?" Hecate steps closer. "Like you're not good enough? Like you're failing?" Her expression doesn't change. "That's because you are."
The greenhouse explodes.
Not literally, but close enough.
Vines erupt from every surface, the floor, the walls, the planters. They grow fast and thick, twisting and spiraling, and I watch in horrified fascination as they slam into the glass wall at the far end of the greenhouse.
The glass shatters and shards rain down, glittering in the morning light, and the vines keep growing, bursting through the opening, reaching for the sky like they've been caged too long and finally found freedom.
I'm breathing hard. My hands are shaking. My whole body vibrates with energy.
And I feel fucking incredible.
Powerful. Alive. Like I could tear down the whole building if I wanted to.
"Well," Hecate smiles at me. "There it is."
The vines stop growing. They don't disappear, but they freeze, like they're waiting for my next command.
"I did that," I whisper, shocked, even though this isn't the first time.
"You did that."
"I didn't even try. It just—"
"Happened. Yes." Hecate moves closer, carefully stepping over a vine. "Because you stopped trying. You stopped thinking. You just felt."
I stare at the destruction I caused. At the shattered glass. At the vines that responded to my rage without me consciously directing them.
"That was terrifying," I admit.
"And exhilarating?"
"Yeah." I look at my hands. "Yeah, it was."
Hecate's smile fades slightly, and something shifts in her expression. She looks on edge. Wary.
"What?"
"Nothing. It's just—" She sighs, running a hand through her dark hair. "I don't particularly care for the other gods. Them being in town puts me on edge."
"Other gods are coming?"
"For Hades's casino expansion opening." She says it as though I should know.
When I look at her blankly, she curses under her breath.
"I'm assuming he didn't tell you."
"Nope." I pop the P, trying not to show how annoyed I am.
"Ophelia—"
"How did this happen?" I interrupt, gesturing at the vines. I don't want to discuss Hades and his penchant for keeping me in the dark. "Why now and not any of the other hundred times I've tried?"
Hecate is quiet for a moment, studying me. "What were you feeling when it happened?"
"Frustrated. Angry."
"At?"
"You. For comparing me to Persephone again." I cross my arms. "For making me feel like I'm not good enough. Like I'm failing some test I didn't even know I was taking."
"And?"
"And what?"
"What else?" Hecate presses. "What else is making you angry?"
Everything, I want to say. But I don't. Because if I start listing everything, I won't stop.
The confinement. The cult. The prophecy. The powers I can't control. The memories that aren't mine but feel real anyway.
Persephone.
Hades.
The total destruction of my life.
Hecate sees it on my face. "Tell me."
"I'd rather not."
Her eyes narrow. "I'm trying to help you."
I close my eyes. I don't want to share, but I guess I don't have a choice. "It's a lot," I say finally. "Everything is a lot."
"Be specific."
I laugh, but it sounds bitter. "Where do I even start?
I'm trapped in this penthouse. I can barely sleep without memories popping through, memories that aren't even mine.
I watch myself with Hades, doing things, feeling things, and then I wake up and he's keeping me at arm's length like I'm made of glass.
" I meet her eyes. "And honestly? I think I need a release. In every possible way."
Hecate raises an eyebrow. "A release?" she asks, voice slow.
"Yeah. You know. The kind that involves—" I wave a hand vaguely. "Physical activity. With another person. Preferably the hot one I live with."
Hecate laughs. "Hades?"
I'm pacing now, the energy from the vines still thrumming through me. "We've had moments. Several. Very good ones. And yet, he pulls back, and now I feel like I've been dismissed, which is humiliating."
"You have feelings for him," Hecate says. It's not a question.
"I don't know what I have." I stop pacing. "There's something there. I feel it. This pull. And I don't know if it's because we're cosmically connected, or if it's just me, Ophelia, lusting." I shake my head. "Either way, it doesn't matter because he won't do anything about it." Fucker.
Never in my life have I been interested in a man like this, so it would be just my luck that the one I chose has insane willpower and a desire to avoid me.
"And the memories?"
I sigh. "They're getting worse. More frequent." I wrap my arms around myself. "I close my eyes and I'm her. I feel what she felt. And it's confusing because some part of me recognizes him. Knows him, and I can see that we were in love. But—"
Hecate's brow raises.
"It's like I'm watching a movie or something. There's this film over things. I know it's me, but I also know it's not."
I press the heels of my hands into my eye sockets, trying to alleviate the headache building behind them. I've accepted gods, and that I am Persephone. But there's still this divide, and I don't know how else to explain it.
"You know, none of us are who we used to be, right?" Hecate asks.
I stare at her, not sure what she is getting at.
"We've all grown. Changed. Adapted. The gods you'll meet this weekend, they are barely recognizable from their ancient selves.
Poseidon used to be a temperamental asshole who drowned entire cities for sport.
Now he runs shipping companies and plays golf.
Still fucks everything that moves, but he's much less terrifying. "
Despite my breakdown, I smile.
"This is just your adaptation," Hecate continues. "You're not Persephone. But you're not just Ophelia either. You're something new. Something in between. You are evolving, and that's okay."
"It doesn't feel okay."
"Growth never does." She gestures at the shattered greenhouse. "But you're getting there. Today proves it."
I look at the vines again. At the destruction I caused without even trying.
Maybe she's right.
Maybe I am getting there.
Wherever "there" is.
I don't wait.
The moment I'm out of the greenhouse, I head straight for Hades's office.
I'm done waiting around for someone else to make decisions about my life.
Hades looks up from his desk, surprise flickering across his face as I stride into his space without knocking. "Ophelia—"
"We need to talk."
He sets down whatever he is reading. "About?"
"The party. This weekend. Your casino expansion."
His expression shutters. "Hecate told you."
"Yeah. And I have an idea."
"No."
I blink, surprised. "You don't even know what I'm going to say."
"You want to go. Answer is no."
I glare. "You aren't even listening to me."
He folds his hands, looking at me with a long-suffering expression. "I know you want to get out of the house, but this is not the time. There are too many variables I can't control."
I roll my eyes. "Yes, control, your favorite thing."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
I don't answer. Instead, I tell him. "This is the perfect time to draw out the cult."
His dark eyes narrow. "Absolutely not."
"Why not?" I demand. "It's perfect. Mother Callista has been quiet for over a month. She's waiting for an opportunity. So let's give her one. Let's draw them out on our terms, in a place where we have control—"
"I don't have control when other gods are involved," Hades interrupts. "Poseidon is unpredictable. Ares thrives on chaos. And I don't even know who else may show up. I don't trust any of them, and you shouldn't either."
"Then don't trust them. Trust me."
"Ophelia—"
"I just blew up the greenhouse," I say, planting my hands on his desk and leaning forward. "With my mind. Without trying. My powers are starting to work, Hades. I'm not as helpless as you think I am, and you told me—"
His eyes darken. "I said when you could control your powers. Don't try to twist my words. You know what I meant."
"I'm done hiding. I'm done waiting for them to come for me in the middle of the night. I want to end this. And this party is the perfect opportunity."
"No."
"Why?" I'm seconds away from stomping my foot like a child.
"Because I won't risk you!" He stands abruptly, shadows flickering around him. "I won't put you in a situation where I can't guarantee your safety. Where there are too many variables, too many ways it could go wrong—"
"Life is about risk!" I'm shouting now, matching his intensity. "There's no such thing as guaranteed safety. The cult got into your penthouse. Into your bedroom. They're going to keep trying until they succeed, or we stop them. So let's stop them."
"By using you as bait."
"Yes!"
"Absolutely not."
I feel my blood heat. I am beyond angry. Part of me is actually surprised I haven't destroyed the room.
"It's not your decision! You don't own me!"
The words hang between us, sharp and final.
Hades stares at me, his jaw tight, shadows writhing.
"Isn't it?" he says quietly. "You're under my protection. In my home. The cult wants you because of a prophecy I'm trying to prevent. This is absolutely my decision."
"Fuck you," I snap. "You can't keep me here forever."
"I can try."
We're at an impasse. I can see it in his eyes. He's not going to budge.
And then Thanatos appears.
Not literally from shadows like Hades does. He just walks in through the door.
"Am I interrupting?" he asks mildly.
"Yes," Hades says.
"No," I say at the same time.
Thanatos looks between us, one eyebrow raised. "I heard shouting. Thought I'd check in." He leans against the doorframe. "What are we fighting about?"
"We're not—" Hades starts.
"The party," I interrupt. "I want to use it to draw out the cult. He won't let me."
"Ah." Thanatos nods slowly. "And you're opposed because?"
"Because it's dangerous," Hades says through gritted teeth. "Because I don't trust Poseidon and Ares to help if things go wrong. Because putting Ophelia in public as bait is asking for disaster."
"Counterpoint," Thanatos says, holding up a finger. "The cult has been quiet for a month. They're waiting for an opportunity. If we give them one on our terms, we control the situation. And having other gods there, even untrustworthy ones, is better than being alone."
I am nearly giddy. Thanatos basically just made the same points I did, which means they are good ones. He's Hades's second, head of his security. He would know a good plan.
Not that Hades agrees. He's glaring, and I can see his eyes starting to turn gold.
"You're agreeing with her?"
"I'm agreeing with the strategy." Thanatos shrugs. "She's right. We can't hide her forever. And the longer we wait, the more time they have to plan something we can't predict. At least this way, we know when and where, and we've got backup."
"You're supposed to be on my side," Hades mutters darkly.
"I'm on the side of ending this," Thanatos replies. "And she just blew up a greenhouse. Her powers are manifesting. That changes things."
Hades's shadows pulse, and I can tell he's furious. Not just at me. Not just at Thanatos. At the situation. At being cornered by logic he can't refute.
"If anything happens—" he starts.
"It won't," I interrupt. "Because I'll be ready. And you'll be there. And apparently Poseidon and Ares will be there. And Hecate. And Thanatos." I meet his eyes. "I'm not asking you to let me do this alone. I'm asking you to trust me enough to let me fight."
He's silent for a long moment, staring at me with an expression I can't read.
Then, finally, "Fine."
I blink. "Fine?" I expected more of a fight.
"You'll stay within sight of me at all times. You'll wear a tracker. And if I say we leave, we leave. No arguments." He glares. "Those are my conditions."
"Deal." I'd agree to almost anything to end this.
"I mean it, Ophelia. If I say go—"
"We go. I got it." I'm smiling despite myself. "Thank you."
He doesn't smile back. Just looks at Thanatos. "Increase security. I want every entrance and exit point monitored, including the casino floor. Wards reinforced. And I want contingency plans for every possible scenario. Get with Hecate and Athena. I want the best."
"Already on it," Thanatos says, tapping on his phone.
Hades's gaze returns to me. "Don't make me regret this."
"I won't."
He doesn't look convinced.
But he agreed. That's what matters.
Thanatos leaves, and I turn to follow, but Hades's voice stops me.
"Ophelia."
I look back.
"Be careful what you wish for," he says quietly. "Once we do this, there's no going back."
"Good," I say. "I'm done going backward."
I leave before he can argue.
And as I walk back to my room, I feel something I haven't felt in weeks.
Victory.
Small, maybe. Conditional, definitely.
But I won something today.
I got him to see me. To hear me. To agree that I'm not just someone to be protected, but someone who can fight.
It's not everything.
But it's a start.