Chapter 37
CORDELIA
Iwas dead.
One heartbeat, I was in Si’s arms, his expression shattering my faltering heart to pieces; the next, I stood in a meadow of asphodels.
The pale blossoms stretched endlessly around me, swaying in a breeze that didn’t touch my skin. I knew I was in the Underworld, and grief ripped through me—I mourned the life I would never have with my god. I mourned the thought of never seeing Guinn’s beautiful face again.
Still, my feet carried me onward, compelled by something greater than will. I was drawn to this place like a soul answering the call of destiny, as though some unseen thread had fastened itself to me, like the whisper of a forgotten dream guiding me home.
The grief started to fade into something else as I walked, but my befuddled brain snapped back into focus when I heard my name, soft and almost tender.
‘Cordelia.’
I turned. Sephy stood among the asphodels, her presence radiating warmth that made the meadow’s beauty pulse brighter, as if the flowers themselves leaned towards her light—and so did I.
Her vivid green eyes held compassion, as though she understood exactly what I had lost. At her side was Thanatos—cheerfulness stripped away, his steel-grey eyes clouded with grief in a way that made my chest tighten.
It made me wonder why even he, the personification of death, looked as though the weight of their presence pressed on him.
‘I’m dead, aren’t I?’ My voice cracked, but I set my jaw; I would not cry.
Sephy nodded.
‘So, why are you here?’ I asked, my voice now raw with the pressure of unshed tears.
Sephy stepped closer, and the meadow itself seemed to bend towards her grace.
‘Because the Queen of the Dead has spoken. It is not your time, Cordelia.’ Her gaze softened, steady and certain. ‘Thanatos will guide you back. You still belong to the living… and your god.’
* * *
I awoke on a bed of the softest linens, a yawn escaping as I scrubbed at my eyes.
Oh. My. Gods. That dream had been merciless—way too vivid; way too real. My lashes felt glued together, but when I finally forced them open, the world struck me with startling clarity.
I blinked once. Twice. A dozen times.
Every detail assaulted me—the weave of the sheets beneath my fingertips, impossibly smooth, the faint tang of salt in the air, the whisper of silk curtains shifting, though the room was still.
Even the air itself seemed alive, cool against my skin and humming with a quiet energy that made the fine hairs on my arms rise.
My senses were too sharp, too precise. I could hear my own heartbeat steady and strong, feel the pulse of life coursing through me as if the very earth fed it. Something had changed—something profound.
I felt… invigorated. No aches, no weakness; every breath tasting cleaner, sharper, richer than it had any right to be.
Then I heard it—heartbeats, slow and steady, and not mine. My head jerked up.
Zeus, Hades, Sephy, and my Si moved towards the bed in a measured line, each of them wearing an expression that made my chest twist. Si’s gaze locked on me like he couldn’t quite believe I was real, as though I might vanish if he blinked.
Hades was stone-faced, the shadows at his shoulders shifting like restless beasts. Zeus… looked wary, his thunderous confidence seemed somewhat dimmed. Sephy’s emerald eyes softened when they met mine, her presence a balm.
Before I could process, Bronte appeared at Si’s side, her mouth already curving into something sharp. ‘Well, look who decided not to stay dead. I hope you realise the theatrics were completely unnecessary.’
‘What the fuck is going on?’ The words tore out of me before I could think, half awe, half outrage.
Hades stepped closer, oddly measured… almost gentle, and a whole lot weird. ‘You were torn from life before your time, Cordelia. The Queen of the Dead agreed to return what was stolen.’ His gaze shifted to his wife, and as my eyes met Sephy’s, I almost crumbled.
His gaze flicked towards Zeus, and for once, Zeus didn’t look like the King of the Gods. His shoulders tightened, his jaw set, but there was hesitation in his eyes as he inclined his head.
‘It was my hand that performed the apotheosis,’ Zeus said at last, his voice low. ‘Your thread was severed. Only this would restore you.’
It all came crashing down—it hadn’t been a dream. I had died. I had stood in the asphodel fields, I had heard Sephy call my name, and now—now I sat breathing, my senses burning too bright, my body coursing with impossible energy; no injuries blemishing my flesh.
I was alive. Too alive.
A whisper coiled through me, part wonder, part terror: What have they made me?
‘Cordelia…’
My head snapped towards Si. The mask he’d been holding shattered—raw relief flooded his features, followed by a darkness that made my breath catch. In two strides, he was at my side, dropping to his knees, his hands trembling as they cupped my face. His voice broke, thick with anguish and rage.
‘Kardia mou. I thought I’d lost you.’
His forehead pressed to mine, but beneath the tenderness a storm raged. His grip tightened, possessive and unyielding. ‘They dared to take you from me,’ he whispered, venom threading through the words. ‘Whoever spilled your blood will wish for the mercy of the sea before I’m done with them.’
Tears burned my eyes, and this time I couldn’t fight them.
‘What… What am I?’ My voice trembled, the question tearing out of me before I could stop it. The shock of it mingling with elation and a creeping edge of fear.
‘You are remade,’ Hades said, his voice steady, grave. ‘You are now one of us. A god.’
The word punched the air from my lungs. A god. Immortal. My body resonated with life, and yet my heart faltered under the weight of it. I had begged for more time, for life—but this? This was forever.
My thoughts scrambled, snagging on the one tether I couldn’t lose. ‘Guinn,’ I whispered, my throat raw. ‘What about my sister?’
Sephy stepped closer, warmth steadying me as her hand covered mine. ‘She is safe, Cordelia.’
Zeus shifted, clearly uncomfortable. He said nothing until Sephy’s glare sliced towards him like a scythe. At last, he spoke, his voice begrudging.
‘When Guinn comes of age, she may choose. The Golden Apples of the Hesperides grant immortality to those who are deemed worthy. If she desires it, the choice will be hers.’
The words rang in my ears, dizzying me further. Relief warred with fear—Guinn would not be left behind, but the thought of her stepping into this eternal storm made my heart twist.
The doors slammed open.
‘Cordie!’
Guinn hurtled across the chamber, colliding with me in a fierce embrace that nearly knocked me from the bed. I wrapped my arms around her, clutching her like the anchor she was, breathing in her familiar scent as tears burned my eyes.
‘I thought I’d lost you,’ she sobbed into my shoulder, her voice breaking.
‘Never,’ I choked out, pressing my face into her hair. ‘I’m here, Guinny. I’m here.’
Her relief poured into me, fierce and trembling, banishing the ghost of the asphodel fields.