Chapter 23 Ophelia #2
"The Fates." Demeter's smile is gentle. "They took pity on true love — not his love, but yours.
A daughter's love for her mother. They let you be reborn, gave you another chance.
But the bond remains, Ophelia. Dormant, waiting.
Your divine essence is still tied to mine.
And if we complete the ritual, as intended, if we bring me fully back through you, both of us can live. Mother and daughter, together again."
I should run. Should scream. Should call for Hades even though we're fighting, even though I'm furious with him, but all I can think about is that memory. The love I felt. The sacrifice I was scared of but willing to make.
I don't trust Demeter. Not really. But I can't ignore the feelings I experienced. I wanted to help her. Desperately.
My whole life, I've craved a mother's love. Wondered what it would feel like to be wanted, cherished, protected by the woman who gave me life. And now Demeter is telling me I had that once. That I loved my mother so much I literally bound my soul to hers.
"I know you're scared," Demeter says softly.
"I know this is overwhelming. But Ophelia, you don't have to do this alone.
We're not trying to hurt you. The cultists, our worshippers, are trying to save both of us.
Complete what you started three thousand years ago. Bring me back, so that we may be one."
Her hand is still extended. Offering comfort. Offering connection.
Offering everything I've ever wanted.
I reach for her —
And that's when I notice the flower arrangement on the side table.
The roses I brought from my shop weeks ago. They were alive when I arrived, red and vibrant. A miracle, considering how long I've been gone.
They're completely dead now.
Not just wilted. Not just brown. But desiccated. Mummified. Like something has sucked every drop of life from their cells.
My hand freezes halfway to Demeter's.
"Darling?" she asks, concern coloring her voice.
I'm suddenly, terribly aware of something else.
The cold.
Not the temperature of the room. But an internal cold. An absence where there should be presence.
Through all my training with Hades and Hecate, I've never been able to bring forth that essence of life. The thread that they told me only I could grasp.
Because it's not a thread. It's innate. A constant awareness of every atom of being around me.
The plants in the apartment. The trees outside. The grass in the courtyard. Even now, even exhausted and traumatized, I should feel them humming at the edge of my consciousness.
I feel nothing, and that feeling slams realization into me.
"Ophelia?" Demeter's voice sharpens. "Sweetheart, what is it?"
I try to pull on my power. Just a trickle. Just enough to sense the life around me.
Nothing happens.
The cold gets worse.
"What did you do?" I lurch away from her, stumbling over the coffee table. "What did you do to me?"
Demeter's expression shifts. The concern melts away, replaced by something calculating. Almost triumphant.
"You figured it out faster than I expected." The gentleness is gone from her voice now. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You've never been given enough credit for your cleverness."
"You're draining me." Horror floods through me. "The bond — you're using it to —"
"To reclaim what's mine." Demeter, because it's definitely Demeter now, the goddess shining through Callista's mortal shell, stands gracefully. "Your father was right to hide you. Right to try and keep you from me. But he made one critical mistake."
She steps closer.
"He taught you to love. To crave connection. To want a mother so desperately that even your survival instinct couldn't override it. You wanted to believe me."
I try to run. Try to call my power, create vines, do something —
But I'm empty. Hollow. The life that usually courses through me is gone, pulled away by the bond I stupidly created millennia ago.
"The ritual was beautiful," Demeter says conversationally. "Tying your divine essence to mine. Ensuring that as long as you existed, I would too. You cried during it, begging me to stop. You were so scared." Her smile is cold. "Because once it started, you understood."
Something snags. The memory she showed me — I wasn't begging her to stop. I was the one trying to comfort her, trying to find a way forward. The detail lands wrong, a splinter beneath the skin, but I'm already too cold to grip it.
I swallow heavily. "Understood what?"
"That you were feeding me."
I stumble slightly, shaking. "You're killing me." The words come out weak. "Just like last time."
"No." She shakes her head. "Last time, I died and took you with me by accident.
Your energy had sustained too much damage.
But this time —" Her eyes gleam. "This time, I've had two thousand years to prepare.
To plan. To gather my strength in the pieces of me that remained in my most faithful followers. "
She's getting closer. I want to back up, to run, but my legs won't cooperate.
"The vessel has to be fully formed," Demeter continues.
"Your divine essence has to be strong enough to support both of us through this next phase.
That's why we needed you to integrate with Persephone.
To remember who you were. To unlock your full power.
" Her laugh is soft. "Hades helped us so much by training you.
By pushing you to embrace your gifts. He made you exactly what I needed you to be. "
"You were playing us this whole time." I'm shaking so hard my teeth are chattering. My voice is barely a whisper. "The prophecy —"
"Was always the end result," she looks down at her hands, Mother Callista's hands, full of age spots and wrinkles, though they are starting to smooth out. "I miss my body. And now, you will help me get it back."
She reaches out, placing one hand on my chest.
I feel it immediately, a pulling sensation. Like something is being drawn out of me through that point of contact. My power. My life. Everything that makes me Ophelia and Persephone flowing into her like water through a crack.
"Stop." I try to shove her away, but I might as well be pushing against a mountain. "Please —"
"Shh." She strokes my hair with her free hand, the gesture almost tender. "I know it hurts. I know you're frightened. But this is what you wanted, remember? This is what you chose. Mother and daughter, together forever."
I can feel myself fading. Not dying, not yet, but weakening. Like I'm being hollowed out from the inside.
"Hades was right about one thing," Demeter murmurs. "Life and death are two sides of the same coin. Can't have one without the other. But what he never understood, what he refused to accept, is that death doesn't get to keep life. Life claims death. Consumes it. Uses it."
Her form is starting to change. Growing brighter. Younger.
"Thank you, daughter," she whispers against my hair. "For loving me enough to die for me. Again."
I try to fight. Try to pull away. Try to do anything —
But the cold is spreading. The emptiness where my power should be is growing. And I'm so tired. So incredibly tired.
My vision blurs.
The last thing I see before darkness takes me is Demeter's face, beautiful and terrible and glowing with stolen life.
Well, fuck.