2. Clouded with Wine
Clouded with Wine
Alexander
There was nothing quite like the parties thrown by House Poseidon.
A mix of orgiastic nonsense and underhanded politics, they were the place to be for anyone involved in the Olympian Houses.
They should have been off-limits to any Alpha.
But in his territory, Orion Maris did what he wanted.
And what he wanted, apparently, was to have House Zeus as his guests.
Fortunately, we weren’t required to participate in his exorbitant bash. The moment our helicopter landed, there was already staff waiting to guide us inside. As expected of the head of House Poseidon.
Before I could leave the helicopter, Nikos’s hand landed on my arm. “Are you sure about this, Alexander? This is Orion Maris we’re talking about. Can we really trust him?”
If anyone but Nikos had asked that, I’d have dismissed the question. But this was my brother. He was the one man I trusted with my life, my anchor in the constant storm of our existence.
“We can’t,” I replied. “That’s why we’re here. Trust has nothing to do with it. This is about mutual interest.”
“His interests change with the tides.” Nikos curled his lip in a tight grimace. “He’s too unpredictable.”
“So are we,” I shot back with a smile.
He smiled back and nodded. In House Zeus, half-siblings were usually rivals, sharpening their knives on each other from birth. But Nikos had never cared for the throne. He cared for order, for strength, and for me. That was our best weapon and something no other house leader had.
Nikos shoved the helicopter doors open and stepped out. Him first, as he always preferred, when my safety was presumably at risk. He took his role as head of my security seriously.
But I’d never been one to let anyone take chances in my place. I followed him only seconds after. As my feet hit the tarmac, Orion’s staff shot into motion. A man in a crisp blue uniform emerged from the waiting group. He stopped a respectful five feet away and gave a sharp, clean bow.
“Lord Stormwright. Lord Maris is ready for you.”
The aide turned and led us away from the helicopter deck.
We passed through a set of sliding glass doors and into an impossibly white corridor.
The chaotic thrum of the party vanished, replaced by a sudden, pressurized silence.
Even the aide’s footsteps seemed quiet now.
If I hadn’t known any better, I’d have said it was on purpose.
After all, neither the ocean nor the storm was ever quiet.
The aide stopped at a heavy, soundproofed door and gestured for us to enter. He did not follow us inside. The door hissed shut behind us, sealing us in.
The first thing I saw was the light. It pulsed from the center of the room, a soft, internal glow emanating from a suspended sphere of smoky quartz.
Inside it, constellations of light swirled and shifted.
It was a live data feed. Hephaestus-tech, but a custom build.
I had one of my own, back in New York, but nothing quite so advanced.
No doubt, House Poseidon needed a little something extra, isolated as they were in the middle of the ocean.
“Alexander. Nikos.” Orion stood on the far side of the sphere, his silhouette fractured by the swirling light. “How nice to have two sons of House Zeus on the Odyssey. Welcome to my little corner of the world. Whiskey?”
I knew better than to appreciate Orion’s acknowledgment of Nikos. To people like him, everything was a weapon. Especially ancestry. But I couldn’t let him get to me.
“I appreciate the offer, Orion.” I moved to stand opposite him, the data sphere pulsing between us. “But I think we both know you didn’t invite me here for the quality of your liquor.”
A small, appreciative smile touched Orion’s lips as he turned to face me. “No. I didn’t. I invited you because the pond is getting crowded, and some of the fish are growing teeth.”
He swept his hand toward the sphere. A set of brilliant stars swirled inside it in an almost panicked rhythm. To the right, a growing cluster of smaller, dimmer stars began to move. They were merging their individual glows into a new, brighter nebula.
“The Alpha Houses have held power for millennia. But no longer. The other Olympian Houses are moving.”
“This isn’t anything new,” I replied. “House Athena has been a locked box for a decade. And Aphrodite answers to no one.”
“We all answer to the same exact thing, and that’s power. Both of you know that very well. And some power… just refuses to be controlled.”
I stared at the one part of the sphere that held no light at all. A patch of absolute darkness. A gravity well that seemed to pull at the nearby lights, absorbing them without emitting anything in return. A void.
“Damon Blackwood has been quiet,” I admitted.
House Hades unsettled me more than I’d have liked.
“Too quiet. Everyone expected House Hades to collapse after Viktor was lost to the shadows. Instead, Damon took the throne and stabilized it. He doesn’t seek counsel, and he doesn’t broadcast his intentions. He just… rules. From the dark.”
A part of me was jealous of him. He seemed to have taken to leadership so well, whereas I just… floundered. Without Nikos, I might not have survived the transition from my father’s rule at all.
“An Alpha House that operates in a vacuum is a liability.” Maris rested his hand on the cool surface of the sphere, his fingers tracing the edge of the black void. “A loose stone that could bring down the entire fortress.”
“I take it that’s why we’re here?” I locked eyes with him across the swirling map of our world. “A temporary truce. We keep the waters calm, at least until we know who’s swimming with knives.”
Maris extended a hand, not for a handshake, but palm up, an offering. “I don’t think we were ever at war, Alexander. But let’s agree to that phrasing. As flawed as it is.”
I stepped forward and clasped his forearm, my grip hard and unyielding. His was just as strong. It was not a gesture of friendship. It was the binding of two predators who had agreed not to hunt each other until the lesser prey was dealt with.
Orion released my arm and gestured toward the main door, the gracious host once more. “Then the work is done. Go. Mingle. Enjoy the party.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Your parties are notoriously exclusive, Orion. I don’t see any other Alphas enjoying your hospitality.”
A rare, genuine laugh escaped him, a startling crack in his controlled facade.
“Let’s be honest, Stormwright. The rules were never meant for you.
Anyone in Olympus would make an exception for the great Alexander Stormwright.
” He gave a small, mocking salute with his glass. “Try not to break too many hearts.”
The dismissal was clear. I turned and walked out, Nikos at my heels.
Nikos let out a breath he’d been holding for the entire meeting as the heavy door sealed shut behind us. “I suppose that went better than expected.”
“With Orion, at least.” I stared down the white corridor, seeing only the void where House Hades should be. “And our truce with him can’t hurt.”
“Then we should leave.” Nikos moved past me, already thinking ahead. “We’ve made our point. Being seen here is a liability.”
“In a moment.” I shook my head, trying to clear the image of the shifting power map from my mind. I needed to wash the taste of cold-blooded politics out of my mouth.
That was when I felt it. A faint scent cut through the recycled air of the corridor. It was sharp, clean, and utterly out of place in this environment of excess.
“What is that?”
Nikos paused, his brow furrowed in confusion. “What? I’m not picking up any threats. The perimeter is secure.”
“Not a threat.” I took a step toward the main deck, drawn by an invisible current. The scent grew stronger, resolving into two distinct notes. The sharp, bitter scent of crushed pomegranate, layered over the astringent fragrance of white tea. It was a challenge. “A… scent.”
I brushed past Nikos, my focus narrowing to a single point.
“Alexander, where are you going?” Nikos grabbed my arm, his grip tight with alarm. “This is not the plan.”
“The plan just changed.” I shook him off without looking back and pushed through the doors, back into the chaos.
As I moved through the crush, my senses filtered the meaningless chatter, the desperate posturing, the entire garish spectacle. It was all noise. I was hunting a signal.
I pushed past a Beta who leaned heavily against his companion, sloshing his drink. “—swear to the gods, the ice in my drink is from a glacier on Olympus itself. Maris had it flown in this morning.”
I discarded the chatter before it fully registered, pushing deeper into the throng. Another snippet cut through the din as I sidestepped a staggering couple.
“—never seen Maris so impressed,” one of them said. “That Hephaestus prodigy, Wayland? She’s going to be running her own division by the end of the year.”
The Omega beside him scoffed, rolling her eyes. “If her plus-one lets her. Did you see that Omega with her? Glared at anyone who got within five feet. I heard she had to carry the Wayland girl off to a cabin an hour ago. Total lightweight.”
The words were meaningless noise, fading as soon as they were spoken. My focus remained locked on the invisible thread pulling me forward.
A low, deep rumble of thunder echoed from outside, vibrating up through the deck plates.
It resonated in my bones, a familiar summons that had nothing to do with the weather.
It was the Storm, my own blood and power, responding to something on this ship.
An answering hum of pure instinct rose in my chest. Up. Closer to the sky.
I changed direction, answering the command of my own magic. I started for the stairs leading to the upper deck.
“Alexander, wait!”