Chapter 31 The Weight of Truth #2
“Not normal dreams,” he explained. “The kind that feels more like memories. The kind you wake up from with your hands shaking—not from fear, but from something else entirely.”
May’s face went pale. “How would you know that?” She glanced at me. “Did you tell him?”
“Melanie didn’t have to tell me. It is always the same pattern,” Kian continued. “The soul remembers before the mind does. Your body knows something you haven’t consciously accepted yet.”
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
“You felt it the moment Amy collapsed,” he said. “Like something tearing inside you, half your soul had been ripped away. That’s not a metaphor, that’s your twin bond. Apollo and Artemis have been connected since before time had names.”
May’s breath hitched.
Hecate stepped forward, and the temperature seemed to shift with her movement. “Dreams are the first thing that return,” she said. “Before conscious power. Before full memory. The soul whispers before it wakes.”
Her intense gaze fixed on May. “And you, child, have been listening in your sleep. Whether you wanted to or not.”
May’s fists tightened. “Those are just dreams,” she murmured, but her voice cracked. “Stress. Trauma. My twin is in a coma… so yeah, I’ve had some fucked up nightmares. Doesn’t mean I’m your sun god.”
Kian’s expression softened. “I’ve walked this earth long enough to know the signs of divinity waking. You can deny them all you want, but it doesn’t change what you are.”
He leaned forward on his elbows. “Your sister carries Artemis in her bones, and you burn with Apollo’s light. I can see it in you even now. Light bends around you when you’re not paying attention.”
May froze, her breath stuttering.
I turned toward her. “You felt it, didn’t you? The dreams, the light, the sense that something’s been trying to wake up inside you.”
She chewed on the inside of her lip. Then, quietly: “There’s… light. In my dreams. I see a golden lyre in my hands, and I hear music I swear I’ve never heard before but still know by heart.”
She looked up at me, eyes swimming with unshed tears. “Sometimes I wake up, and my hands are hot as if I’ve just touched the sun.”
“That’s your power,” Hecate explained. “Trying to break through.”
May flinched. “You’re saying that’s me? That I’m him?”
Hecate nodded. “You always have been. You and Amy; your souls have been intertwined. Twins across every lifetime. Apollo and Artemis. Always finding each other, protecting each other.”
May’s face crumpled. “But I couldn’t protect her,” she whispered, broken and raw. “If I’m really him—if I’m Apollo—then why couldn’t I stop what happened to Amy?”
Her voice rose. “What good is being a god if I couldn’t save my own sister?”
“You didn’t remember,” I said. “You were powerless. But it’s different now. You’re starting to remember, and now you have a choice.”
May’s lips pressed into a thin line. “What choice?”
“Whether to awaken fully,” I explained. “And reclaim what you were. Learn how to use that power burning inside you.” I leaned forward. “And help me save her.”
May stared at me, processing.
Leo gave another nervous laugh, rubbing his neck. “Okay, but that’s just May. I don’t have prophetic sunshine dreams. And last I checked—” He looked down at himself. “—I don’t glow. Very un-godlike.”
Hecate’s eyes cut to him. “No. You slip. You vanish. You appear in places you shouldn’t be able to reach. You open doors without keys. You’ve felt how the world yields to you when you push against its locks?”
Leo winced. “I mean… maybe sometimes. But that doesn’t—” He paused, his expression thoughtful. The blood drained from his face. “I’ve always been good at finding things and sneaking around. That can’t mean that I’m—”
“It does,” Kian stated, tone iron now. “You can doubt it, both of you. But the truth is coming whether you accept it or not.”
Leo sank back, looking like the wind had been knocked out of his sails.
Kian’s expression darkened. “Cyrus already knows what you are. He’s been watching both of you, waiting for an opportunity to strike.”
The words landed heavy, leaving a suffocating silence.
“Cyrus?” May asked. “Who’s Cyrus?”
“He’s the head of Ekklesia Biotech,” I explained. “The Shepherd. He’s the one responsible for what happened to Amy.”
May sat back like the wind had been knocked out of her. Leo looked like he might lose his lunch. He sucked in a breath, eyes darting between me, May, and Luz.
He gave Luz a long look. “And who are you in all this cosmic mess? Don’t tell me—you’re Aphrodite.”
Luz snorted. “Flattering. I know I’m hot, but no.”
She set her tea down, and something in her expression shifted, becoming sadder. “I’m Leuce—an oceanid nymph. I was—” Her eyes flicked to Kian. “I was his first love. A very long time ago.”
“Oh,” Leo said, blinking. Then his eyes widened, eyebrows raising. “Ooh.”
He looked between all of us. “So you, and he were—and now he and Mel are—” He made vague gestures. “That’s not awkward at all.”
“It was four thousand years ago,” Luz shrugged. “I’m over it. Besides, Mel’s better for him than I ever was.”
“This is insane,” Leo said, scrubbing his face. “This is absolutely batshit insane.”
“I know it is,” I sighed. “But it’s the truth.”
He sat there with his hands clasped in front of his mouth.
“Okay. So we’re Greek gods reincarnated into Gen Z bodies. Sure. Fine. This is fine. Everything is fine.” He looked around wildly. “Is anyone else fine? Because I’m very much not fine.”
Luz rolled her eyes and nudged him. “If you’d shut up for two seconds, you might actually process this.”
“I’m processing!” Leo exclaimed. “This is what my processing looks like! Loud and panicky!”
Leo huffed and turned to Kian and Hecate. “So why the hell are we here with a nurse and your hot professor, then? Who are they in all this?”
I gestured to Hecate. “This is Hecate—”
“The Hecate?” Leo demanded, cutting me off. His jaw dropped.
Hecate inclined her head. “Charmed, I’m sure.”
“Fuck,” Leo breathed, then immediately looked embarrassed. “Sorry. I mean—shit. Sorry. I’m just—fuck.”
“Eloquent,” Hecate said dryly.
May glanced at Kian. “And him? Who are you?”
Kian’s thumb brushed over my knuckles in quiet reassurance. I held on tight and looked at May and Leo.
“This is Hades,” I said.
May blinked at me, then Kian. Leo’s face went through several emotions: confusion, disbelief, dawning realization, and finally, horrified awe.
“Hades,” he repeated slowly. “Lord of the dead, King of the Underworld, ruler of shadows, married to—”
He stopped. His eyes went huge. He looked at Kian, then at me. Then at our joined hands.
“Oh my god,” he breathed, strangled. “If he’s Hades, and you two are clearly—” He gestured. “That means you’re—you’re—”
I nodded, cheeks heating.
“Persephone?!”
The word exploded out of him, several octaves too high. All three dogs lifted their heads in alarm.
“You’re Persephone? Queen of the Underworld, goddess of spring—that’s you? My friend who can’t reach the high shelves?”
“Formerly queen,” Kian murmured, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “Currently just Melanie. Unless she decides to be more.”
Leo looked like his brain was melting. “Oh my God,” he said again, louder, clutching his hair. “I’ve been making jokes, and you’re actually—” He turned to Luz with wild eyes. “Did you know? How long have you known?”
“A couple of weeks,” Luz said casually, shrugging.
“A couple of weeks? You’ve known for weeks, and you didn’t tell me?”
“You were busy being an undercover spy,” Luz pointed out. “Didn’t want to distract you.”
“Distract me? This is the definition of distracting!”
Luz handed Leo tea, raising an amused brow at him. “Drink this. Breathe.”
Leo took the cup, nodding at the dogs. “Next, you’ll tell me they’re Cerberus,” he grumbled.
“Actually…” I started. His eyes snapped up. I gestured to the three massive hellhounds. “They’re kind of, well, they are Cerberus. Split into three bodies for practical reasons. But the same being.”
Leo stared at Bran, sprawled across his lap. Then at Vex. Then at Duska.
“Of course,” he said loudly, throwing his hands up. “Of course, there’s a three-headed hellhound. Why wouldn’t there be? Is Medusa your next-door neighbor? Does Charon drive for Uber? Is Zeus doing standup comedy?”
“Zeus is actually—” Kian started.
“No,” Leo interrupted, pointing at him. “Nope. I don’t want to know. If you tell me one more mythological thing, I will short-circuit.”