17. Chapter 17
Chapter seventeen
Theron
T heron wrapped the cloth around his wounded hand. The task was made difficult by his trembling, which hadn’t ceased since leaving that room. Even after scalding his skin in the washing room for who knew how long, he couldn’t stop shaking. It wasn’t until he dried himself off that he found he’d been gashed pretty good by something in that room. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was all in his head. If, somehow, the creatures in that room weren’t real, and he’d inflicted himself unknowingly while trying to escape.
No . That’s not likely . He’d seen the creatures before. Long ago. And while the room was terrifying, he would have known if the pain had been self-inflicted. Besides, all that mattered was that it happened—that these wounds and fears were real, and that he somehow hadn’t grown since childhood in the way he’d hoped. He was no closer to the throne than he’d been half a decade ago when he’d conquered his initial fears of the room. ‘Learned to hide his fears’ was more accurate, but Thanatos had granted his graduation of that room all the same back then. And Theron never had to return until today.
Why now?
“I must have royally screwed up,” he muttered as he finished bandaging his hand. He fell onto his bed and thought of Correlia and the way she looked when he first laid eyes on her. On that shimmering dress and that spark in her eyes. How could he have gone through so much pain and punishment and still ache to see her?
He was beginning to think she tormented him more than anything Thanatos could throw at him. And he liked it. He liked her fire and the way she poisoned his thoughts and made him yearn for her. The way she’d turned him into an addict after just one glance.
Being unable to go up to the surface and touch her was agonizing, but he had to resist if he wanted to pass his training. He needed to resist that hunger she gave him.
And that room . . .
Theron shivered and curled himself under his sheets.
That room was terrifying enough to keep him in line until he could run this place his way. Then he could do and take whatever he wanted.
Just hang in there , he told himself. That day will come soon.
But when Correlia rematerialized in his thoughts, his body tensed.
Not soon enough.
Corre
When Corre opened her eyes the next morning, her first thought was of Theron. His raven hair framing his long, solemn face. His enticing smirk and even more enticing, somehow soothingly, dark eyes.
His eyes. She thought back on the fear etched across his face. Why would someone like him be so afraid? She wondered what secrets lay hidden in his world and what they might look like.
S he had so many questions. Had he chosen to be the God of the Underworld, or had he just embraced it? He sure was good at it. Every soul on Mt. Olympus was petrified by the mere thought of him.
“He must be truly despicable,” she muttered, staring at the boards on her ceiling and wishing she believed it. She couldn’t envision the bad god he was said to be. She could only envision what she saw—a young god just like her enjoying a party like everyone else. And of him helping a child when no one else did. She rolled onto her stomach and continued thinking, but none of her conclusions amounted to anything convincing. She had a hard time believing anyone was supposed to be evil. But there was always supposed to be a Hades, right?
She groaned and rolled onto her back again, planting a pillow over her face. There was still so much she didn’t understand.
The clock ticked by, and she knew it would get slower the longer she was left alone with her thoughts. Her mother was out creating a new forest on one of Earth’s largest continents. She’d be gone for weeks. What was Corre supposed to do in the meantime? Realistically, she wouldn’t spend the whole time working.
And then it hit her.
Shooting up in bed, she looked out her bedside window. It was still bright out, and it would be for a while.
She had an idea.
An incredibly stupid, wonderful idea .
She sprung up from her bed and grabbed her darkest cloak—one that at least blended into the soft brown dirt and trees in the forest around her house.
A reckless, terrible, idiotic idea.
She grabbed a small woven basket from the wicker box her mother left next to the pantry and filled it with fruit, vegetables, cheese, and two small slices of bread. Every passing second grew longer, each heartbeat quicker.
Something creaked, and Corre jumped, letting out an involuntary squeal. It was just a common field mouse snacking on the crumbs Corre had forgotten to sweep up the night before. I have to get it together . She tucked the basket under her cloak and fled the cottage.
As she slammed the door behind her, she couldn’t stop thinking about how reckless this was. Still, she couldn’t help but smile and welcome the thrill that fizzed through her as she ran into the forest and headed toward the River Styx.
A truly stupid idea.