Chapter 3 Grayson
Vulnerability remained a stranger that was most unwelcome in my bleak existence.
And yet, powerlessness brought nothing but vulnerability.
Without my aura, I was acutely aware of everything around me in a way that I was unaccustomed.
Before, I relied on it to survey potential dangers.
To overpower whatever obstacles were in my path.
It was an extension of me that did my bidding in the most destructive sense.
Now, I was reduced to the same basic five senses as mortals.
The thought was enough to have acid roil in my stomach and climb up my throat.
I was rendered useless.
The scream ripped through my chest before slamming my fists against the ground. The cuffs took away my aura and all the protection that came with it. Pain coursed through my palms and wrists, travelling up my arms, but I revelled in it. Revelled at the outlet for all that riddled my insides.
“You always were a sullen child.”
My head snapped up to watch as Hunter stepped out of the shadows.
There was no warning of his arrival. No sixth sense that would alert me to another presence.
I clenched my teeth together and felt the muscle in my jaw pulse from the irritation of not realising he had returned from his trip.
How easy it was for him to catch me off guard.
The fact only further made me seethe at my situation and the one who had put me in it.
“Always prone to fits of rage even if we were in public,” he continued, watching me with little interest. “I’m not sure how Mum and Dad put up with you as long as they did.”
“I preferred to show people my bite than to be a snake in the grass.”
“And look at where that got you, dearest brother. Sometimes it pays to play nice.”
“Does it?” I noted he had come alone. “Did you get what you wanted from Quentin?” His lip curled in response, and I pushed myself up from the ground as I continued.
A spark of hope pushed my mood into something close to delirious.
“What happened, Hunter? She didn’t buy the nice guy routine?
Or couldn’t you keep it up for long enough? That would be the story of your life.”
He approached the cells, meeting me at the bars. “She’s been a thorn in my side since the moment we started the project. Unable to handle you and forcing me to step in. Getting distracted by you and failing to finish the project. A demigoddess.”
The last point was said with so much disgust that his features twisted into something unpleasant.
Even now, after years of anguish and protest, Hunter couldn’t come to terms with the fact that it had been our behaviour that forced the hand of the demigods.
They had reacted and, to teach them a lesson, we validated their point by erasing them from existence.
To ask Hunter to reflect and show remorse was futile.
He remained steadfast in his justification for the bloodbath.
Deciding it was best not to bring up the past, I hummed thoughtfully. “She’s a tiresome woman, that’s for sure.”
“There’s a streak of stubbornness in her that needs to be broken.”
How often had I thought the same thing when we first started the project? That Quentin never knew when to let things go and leave well enough alone. It irked me, but she wouldn’t be the woman I loved without that little facet.
“Did a little demigoddess get the better of you?” I taunted, unable to help myself. “She barely knows how to control her powers.”
The training she’d gone through was enough for her to grasp the basics, but there was still a long way to go.
We assumed we’d have more time and that Quen would grow to trust herself.
Without trust, her aura would remain out of her control.
It would bring me pride and pleasure if Quen had landed a few blows to Hunter’s body and ego.
“You misunderstand me, Grayson.”
“I wouldn’t be the only one,” I muttered under my breath.
Despite all the ways he portrayed himself, Hunter was untrustworthy, but I had never imagined the full extent of his schemes.
The madness that power had infected him with.
Stern. Pedantic. Unwilling to compromise.
Those were a few ways that Hunter had been described, but he had transcended all those simple terms into something more twisted.
The chaos that rolled off him was beyond what I believed he was capable of.
That was something I would never forgive myself for.
For buying the lies that Hunter told Elysia—that I was the worst of them all.
My darkness, and what I was led to believe, had blinded me to what was truly going on.
“I don’t want to force her to do anything,” he said.
“Then you can leave her be. Kill me and we’ll be able to move on from this.”
The solution seemed to stare us both in the face.
This circular argument was pointless. He’d already promised the Gods that I was the penance for the war and they all willingly accepted.
If he didn’t make a move soon, then they’d vie for his blood.
On second thoughts, he could take all the time in the world.
“As much as I appreciate your beautifully simplified version of events, it doesn’t quite fit with my plans.”
I surveyed Hunter through the bars, taking him in properly for the first time in decades.
Blood dictated us to be brothers, but he had always been a stranger to me.
Never a shared interest or kind word. No kinship that would bond us.
Behind the smooth facade was a God that no one knew the devious depths of.
There was no point in my pleading innocence in anything in my life.
A trail of destruction was left in my wake.
But I was honest about my need for chaos.
I thrived off vengeance. It struck me as strange how others wouldn’t appreciate the openness of it, but found it palatable when wrapped in a suit, tie, and sugared words.
Hypocrites.
“I still want Quentin,” he continued calmly, all disgust eased out of the lines of his face. The words made my blood boil, but if he had any inclination of my rage, he made no show of it. “But I don’t want to force her. I’d rather leave that job to you.”
My brows knitted. “You think I’m going to convince her to go along with whatever twisted plan you have?”
“That’s exactly what you’ll do.”
“If I thought you had a screw loose before, there must be a rampant hardware shop knocking around up there now.”
With a struggle, I slipped my hands through the bars, the chain between the cuffs restraining my reach, but I tapped at his temple.
My big brother wrapped his fingers around my wrist and twisted.
Hard. My teeth slammed together, and I sucked in a breath through my nose, determined not to make a sound.
He tugged viciously, forcing my face against the cool metal and making me wince.
“And yet, I am always several steps ahead of you, aren’t I, Grayson? Do you ever wonder how different things could have been if you’d just conformed the way you were meant to? If you could have been like the rest of them?”
He released my wrist and took a step back, brushing down his shirt and straightening up. In the blink of an eye, he settled back into the role of protector. Of respectable leader.
“You’re going to help me with this, Grayson, because I hold all the cards. You have no leverage here. No power. No allies.”
It came as a blow to think that no one stepped forward to fight when Hunter made the announcement. The commotion came from Quentin alone. Although, it didn’t come as a surprise.
Unequivocally selfish.
What God or Goddess would choose to upset the delicate balance in Elysia?
It had nothing to do with the mortals or of granting them ease on Earth.
Unease in Elysia caused an unease on Earth, but that was nothing more than a flimsy excuse to hide behind.
Standing up to Hunter, and disrupting the status quo, meant sacrificing the luxe lifestyle we were used to.
It meant losing children and partners and friends that we held dear.
Why would we risk any of that for one soul?
I couldn’t blame them. I would have done the same.
Backed away from a fight that wasn’t mine in order to keep Quentin.
Our bubble and our peace meant more to me than anyone else here.
“And why would I help you?” I asked, refusing to rub the sore spot on the side of my face where a dull ache throbbed. It would probably bruise, and shame burned through me.
“Because it is a choice between your life or hers. As far as I’m concerned, if she doesn’t help me, then there’s no use for her.”
A fresh wave of panic ran from head to toe. The chaos I revelled in threatened to unravel me. “After everything you told them? You’d sacrifice another demigod?”
“It wouldn’t be difficult to paint her as a traitor. Smart but impulsive. Give her enough rope and she’ll hang herself.”
“What do you want from her, Hunter? You’d rather be rid of her, but you’re using her. I just can’t figure out for what.”
Success was what Quentin was tied to, but it felt too simple. Hunter would use her gift, of that I was certain, but was there a particular reason for it or was he merely making sure he had all the cards in hand?
“That’s unnecessary for you to know. What you need to decide is if you could spend an eternity knowing that if you don’t help me, you’d be responsible for her death.”
Chaos was key to so much in my life, but since meeting Quentin, it sometimes escaped my control. That was never the case. All of this came down to her. To the choices she made and the actions she took.
It was rare that Hunter and I agreed, but impulsive was the exact word to describe her.
“I’ll give you a few days to think about it, Grayson,” Hunter said, effectively dismissing me.
“Lest you think I’m some kind of monster who refuses to show my baby brother any mercy.
I have always had your best interests at heart.
It is you who has continued to turn your back on every opportunity that has been handed to you. ”
There was the telltale flicker of electric blue that wrapped around Hunter before he left me alone.
Another scream ripped through me, reverberating around the space as I dropped to my knees.
I was useless.
And it was because of her.