Chapter 31 #4
The floor-to-ceiling glass behind his desk opened onto the endless blue, schools of silver fish flashing past in tight formation.
Dark wood gleamed under the soft glow of suspended orbs of light, bookcases were packed with tomes, and maps and scrolls were stacked in meticulous order across a long table, along with a bank of computers.
Seriously—computers? Underwater? What was their ISP, NeptuneNet?
The man waiting for me by Si’s desk was nothing like the other acolytes I’d met. He radiated authority like a second skin. Broad shoulders, bronzed skin seamed with scars, and hair streaked with silver framed a face carved from granite, every line stern and unyielding.
His dark green eyes locked on me the instant I entered, sharp and unflinching, as though they could cut me open and sift through whatever he found inside. Great. Nothing screams “warm welcome” like getting laser-scanned by Grandpa Doom.
He inclined his head, but only barely, and the gesture carried no warmth.
‘So,’ he said, his voice low and rough as surf pounding stone. ‘The mortal who’s turned our king inside out.’ His lips didn’t quite curve into a smile, but there was amusement in the way he studied me.
Heat pricked the back of my neck, but I forced my chin higher.
This was Minos—the one who ruled Genesion in Poseidon’s absence.
Older, harder, carved by years of power and loyalty, and in that moment, I understood: he wasn’t just testing me.
He was deciding if I was strong enough to stand at Poseidon’s side.
Before I could retort, Si’s voice cut in, smooth but edged with warning. ‘Easy, Minos. She’s a queen but beneath the crown, there’s a touch of gangster and a hint of chaos even I don’t mess with. Don’t test her.’
Heat crept up my neck, a mix of irritation and something dangerously close to gratitude. Gods, I hated that his words made my pulse falter.
Minos inclined his head, but those shrewd eyes never left mine, and I swore I saw the faintest flicker of respect in them.
Si’s hand brushed lightly across my lower back as he passed, the briefest touch, grounding and possessive all at once. ‘I need a word with Perseus,’ he murmured, then moved away, leaving me standing under Minos’s heavy stare.
‘Mortal or not,’ I said, voice full of steel, ‘try breaking me. You’ll bleed for it.’
For a long moment, he studied me, and the silence stretched, then, to my surprise, his expression shifted—just slightly. Not approval, but something close.
‘Good,’ he said at last, his gaze narrowing. ‘Then maybe you’ll survive him.’
While Si spoke in low tones with Perseus across the room, Minos approached me. His presence was as heavy as ever, but there was something quieter in his eyes now, less storm and more tide.
‘You’ve heard about the blood exchange,’ he said, not asking but stating, as if he already knew what Si was going to offer me.
I hesitated, then nodded. ‘He says it’s protection. Gifts. But… it feels like a chain. Like one more way to be bound.’ My voice slipped lower. ‘I don’t know if I should trust it. Or him.’
Minos’s gaze softened, though his expression stayed stern.
‘If it were anyone else, I’d tell you to walk away.
But Poseidon…’ He glanced towards the god bent over his maps, his voice dropping.
‘For him to offer that… to give you more of himself than even his Acolytes are granted… it means something more. It means he loves you.’
The word hit like a crack of thunder. Love. My throat tightened, the air catching in my lungs. I’d braced for loyalty, obsession, possession—but love? That was more dangerous than all of it. I faltered, swallowing hard, unable to mask the flicker of fear and want tangling inside me.
Minos’s green eyes narrowed, catching the shift in me. ‘It frightens you,’ he said, not unkindly.
‘I don’t—’ My voice broke, and I pressed my lips together, shaking my head.
He leaned closer, dropping his voice to a murmur meant for me alone. ‘Good. It should. Love is the only thing strong enough to break a god… or save him. And if he’s given that word to you, don’t dismiss it lightly.’
The floor seemed to tilt beneath me. I wanted to argue, to scoff, to deny the rush in my chest, but the truth was there, echoing in Minos’s words and in the memory of Si’s hands on me, his voice whispering kardia mou.
He’d promised me protection, claimed me as his, vowed I was his heart, his pulse, his undoing. He’d called me angel, sinner, storm. But never love.
The omission gnawed at me, sharp as broken glass. Was it because gods didn’t love the way mortals did? Or because admitting it would make it real, binding him to something even eternity couldn’t escape?
I pressed my palm to the cool glass wall, staring at the endless blue beyond, trying to steady my breath.
Everything he’d done screamed of devotion, of something deeper than possession.
I swallowed the golf ball-sized lump in my throat as clarity hit me.
His riptides could drag me out to sea and drown me, and I didn’t care.
Sephy was so right… I loved the brooding sea god with every fibre of my being.
Gods… I was in so much trouble.