Chapter 31 The Weight of Truth
Hecate arrived at nine in the morning, and Luz shortly after.
We settled into Kian’s living room to wait, after another training session that consisted primarily of meditation and sorting through memories.
Leo and May wouldn’t be around until two.
That left us with hours to fill, hours where anticipation built like pressure threatening to burst.
Kian kept us stocked with tea, fruit, and pretzels—a somewhat bizarre combination that suggested he’d grabbed whatever was in his kitchen. He moved with careful attentiveness, like hosting reincarnated gods in his living room wasn’t covered in any etiquette manual he’d consulted.
It was endearing to watch the dark, brooding professor padding barefoot across his floors, fussing with throw pillows as if the fate of Olympus depended on proper couch aesthetics.
I watched him fidget with a stack of coasters for the third time before moving back into the kitchen. I bit back a smile.
“The apples are fine where they are,” Luz called from her spot on the floor, not looking up from where she was scratching Vex’s belly. “They don’t need to be rotated again.”
Kian paused mid-reach toward the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter. “I wasn’t—”
“You were absolutely about to rearrange them,” Hecate said from her position by the window, appearing entirely too amused. “For the fifth time.”
His ears went pink. “They were uneven.”
“They’re apples, not soldiers,” I said.
He shot me a look and went back to the kitchen to fiddle with something else.
Duska had claimed her spot on the couch beside me, her massive head heavy and warm on my thigh.
I stroked her silky fur, the repetitive motion soothing my own nerves.
Luz had taken up residence on the plush rug with Vex and Bran, rotating between aggressive scratch attacks behind their ears, tug-of-war with a rope toy, and providing dramatic commentary on Kian’s hosting anxiety.
“Now he’s wiping down the already-clean counter,” she narrated to the dogs in a stage whisper. “This is the third pass.”
Bran woofed in agreement.
Kian passed me yet another fresh cup of tea, my third of the afternoon. My fingers brushed his intentionally, letting them linger longer than necessary.
His eyes flicked to mine, surprise giving way to something softer. A small smile tugged at his lips, and I watched with satisfaction as a faint flush bloomed across his cheeks, spreading to the tips of his ears.
He looked away, flustered in a way that made my chest flutter with warmth. For all the power he carried, all the centuries he’d lived, it was this gentleness, this vulnerability, the way he blushed when I touched him, that struck me the most.
“You’re enjoying this,” he murmured, just for me.
“Immensely,” I confirmed, smiling into my cup.
Luz looked up from her phone, her eyes widening. “Mel, have you seen this?”
She scrambled from the floor to sit beside me on the couch.
“The local news just did a segment on Ekklesia and the podcast this morning,” she explained. “There’s calls for a formal investigation to be conducted!”
Kian and I exchanged a look of surprise. “It’s really gotten that big?”
“Babe, you’ve gone viral!” Luz exclaimed. “People are pissed! They want justice. Reddit threads are even talking about protesting.”
My face burned and my chest fluttered. “Holy shit.”
“You must be more cautious,” Hecate said, sipping her tea. “Now that you have drawn so much attention to them, it is possible there will be retaliation.”
Kian scowled at that. “We can set up protective measures.”
“Let’s just get through this talk with May and Leo first,” I said, my stomach twisting. “One thing at a time.”
When the knock finally came at two o’clock exactly, Duska barked a low, rumbling sound of recognition. Kian straightened and went to open the door.
Leo stepped inside, pushing his wire-rimmed glasses high up on his nose. His gaze swept over the space before landing on me. More specifically, where I sat curled up on Kian’s couch with Duska’s head on my lap, wearing his sweater, and a blanket tucked around my legs.
His eyebrows rose slowly, understanding dawning on him.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Kian said, gesturing towards the living room. He excused himself back into the kitchen. With a shit-eating grin, Leo turned his attention back to me and began making wildly inappropriate hand gestures.
First, he pointed at me, then at the kitchen where Kian had gone. Then made a circle with one hand and stuck his finger through it while waggling his eyebrows.
I glared at him and made a swift slashing motion: “Cut it out, or I will end you.”
He mouthed back, “rude” and had the audacity to wink at me.
Luz was absolutely no help. She’d collapsed sideways on the rug, face buried in Bran’s fur, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
“I hate both of you,” I mouthed at them.
Luz just blew me a kiss. Leo saluted with mock seriousness.
If Kian noticed any of this, he didn’t say a word when he came back out. But the twitch at the corner of his mouth suggested otherwise. Leo flopped onto the rug beside Luz like they were at a sleepover. She hooked her arm around his neck in a playful headlock.
“Took you long enough,” she said, nudging him.
“Traffic,” he said, his eyes shifting around as if he wasn’t being entirely truthful. “Also, I had to mentally prepare for whatever insanity you’ve dragged me into this time.”
“This time isn’t my fault,” Luz protested, gesturing at me. “This is all Mel’s baggage.”
“Hey!” I objected.
Leo’s gaze landed on Hecate standing near the window, as though he had just realized she was there. He flushed a little at having displayed such behavior in front of a stranger, leaning in to whisper to Luz: “Wait. Isn’t that the nurse from the hospital?”
Luz patted his arm. “We’ll explain in a sec. Just… try not to freak out.”
“That’s always a great sign.”
A second knock came about twenty minutes later. May stepped inside, looking around the room. Her whole body was tense, exhausted in a way that went beyond physical tiredness. Her eyes were red-rimmed, shadows dark as bruises beneath them.
She narrowed eyes before her gaze landed on Kian.
Her eyebrow rose. “Oh. So you’re Hot Professor.”
Kian blinked, quirking a brow. “I… suppose?”
May gave him a deliberate once-over. Then she turned to Luz with an approving nod. “Damn, Luz. You weren’t kidding. Muy caliente. I see the appeal now, Mel.”
I made a sound like a dying animal and tried to sink into the couch cushions. “Can the ground open up and swallow me whole? Please?”
Kian chuckled, low and embarrassed, and his ears turned bright red. “You’ve got very bold friends.”
“They get worse,” I muttered into my hands.
“Hey!” Leo objected, pointing at me. “I’m a delight.”
“You’re a menace,” Luz corrected fondly.
“You all are menaces,” I grumbled.
The teasing faded as May settled on the arm of the couch, still guarded, still watching everyone with suspicious eyes. Leo sprawled on the rug, but his posture had shifted—less relaxed, more attentive.
Kian moved to sit beside me, close enough to be supportive. Hecate remained by the window, silent but commanding.
“So,” May said, breaking the silence with forced casualness. “What’s this all about? Why did you drag us to the Hot Professor’s apartment instead of letting me sit with my sister?”
The mention of Amy hung heavy in the air.
“You both know what happened to Amy wasn’t natural,” I started. “You’ve seen enough to know this isn’t just a corporate scandal. This runs deeper than that.”
Leo’s expression shifted, the easy humor sliding off his face. May’s eyes narrowed.
“As we told you before, Amy was targeted,” I continued. “Specifically chosen for the study. Not because of random chance, but because of who she is. What she carries inside her.”
May’s jaw flexed. “What are you getting at, Mel?”
“The people involved in this, on both sides, aren’t just scientists or executives.” I looked at Hecate, at Kian, then back to Leo and May. “They’re something else entirely.”
I looked directly at Leo, then at May. “And so are you.”
Leo blinked at me. Then he laughed. “Wait… what? What do you mean by ‘so are we’? Like, what, we’re all part of some secret society? Is this a cult thing? Because, Mel, I love you, but I’m not joining your cult.”
“Not a cult,” I said gently. “I promise.”
“Then what?”
“I’m saying this isn’t your first life,” I continued. “That you’ve lived before, many times, and in your first lives, you were someone… significant.”
“Okay, so reincarnation.” He nodded. “Fine. So what, I was a medieval rat-catcher? A Roman soldier? Elvis?”
“You were Hermes.”
The laughter died in his throat. He stared at me, mouth opening and closing. “I—excuse me? The Hermes? Messenger god, winged sandals, thief of cattle, Hermes?”
I nodded.
“No.” He shook his head, a nervous laugh bubbling out. “That’s insane. I don’t have—” He gestured at his feet. “Do you see any wings? Because I don’t see any wings!”
“You never had actual wings,” Kian responded. “That was a mistranslation.”
Leo gaped at him. “This is ridiculous,” he said, but his voice had gone thin, uncertain. “You’re all pranking me. Where are the cameras?”
I turned to May before he could spiral further, and my chest tightened at the look on her face. She hadn’t laughed, or rolled her eyes.
Her whole body had locked up, every muscle taut, hands gripping her arms so tight her knuckles had gone white.
“And you,” I said, voice gentle as I could make it, “are Apollo.”
May didn’t move. Something like recognition flashed through her eyes, as if something deep inside her was responding to that name.
Leo was still sputtering beside her. “Apollo? Are you fucking serious?”
“Prove it.” Her eyes were burning. “Prove that I’m a god. Because my sister is dying, and if you really just dragged me out here for a dumb joke, I’ll be pissed.”
Kian fixed a knowing gaze on May. “You’ve been dreaming.”
May’s eyes snapped to him. “What?”