The room still smelled of death.
Not the kind that lingered on battlefields or in rotting corpses, but something older, more insidious. The kind of death that clung to memories, that seeped into cracks of forgotten places, poisoning everything it touched.
Hades had left his mark.
The shattered remains of the Shade still littered the floor, fine black dust swirling in the faint air currents. The serpents were restless, shifting against my skin in uneasy patterns.
I wanted to move. To run. To put as much distance between myself and this place as possible. But I would not flee.
I turned to Orion. His face was tense, his grip still tight around his blade. “We need to go,” he said, voice edged with something like urgency. “If he’s starting this game, it won’t end here.”
He was right.
Hades didn’t make idle threats. He set pieces in motion, then let the world break itself around them. And I had just become his newest piece.
I pushed past Orion, stepping toward the doorway. The cold night air hit me like a slap, but I welcomed it, let it ground me.
Orion fell in beside me as we moved through the silent streets. “He’s testing you,” he said, voice low. “Seeing how far you’ll bend before you break.”
I scoffed. “Then he’s going to be waiting a long time.”
Orion didn’t answer, but something flickered in his gaze—something I didn’t have time to decipher.
We had barely made it three streets before the air changed.
It was subtle at first. The unnatural stillness. The way the shadows stretched just a little too far. The scent of the sea, thick and suffocating, creeping up from nowhere.
Then—
A whisper.
It wasn’t from Orion.
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I turned sharply, my pulse slamming against my ribs. The street behind us was empty. The buildings stood silent, their broken windows dark like watching eyes.
Another whisper.
It slithered through the air, curling around my ears like smoke. A voice I knew.
“Did you think they would save you?”
My throat closed.
The voice wasn’t Hades’.
It was Poseidon’s.
No. No, this wasn’t real.
The streets twisted around me, the cold stone beneath my feet warping into smooth marble. The scent of incense filled my lungs. The dark alleys bled into towering pillars, their surfaces carved with scenes of gods and triumph.
I was back in the temple.
I staggered, my breathing sharp and uneven. The serpents thrashed wildly, sensing my panic.
This wasn’t real. This wasn’t real.
“Medusa.”
I turned.
He stood before me, draped in the sea’s endless depths, his presence swallowing the air itself. Poseidon’s gaze raked over me, the same way it had then.
My breath hitched. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.
He stepped closer.
“You fought,” he mused, as if it were something amusing. “I wonder… will you fight now?”
No. I wouldn’t do this. I would not do this.
I squeezed my eyes shut, willed myself back to reality, back to the streets of the city, to Orion’s presence beside me.
But the laughter—Poseidon’s laughter—was still there.
And then—
A hand clamped around my throat.
The panic was instant, electric, like a brand searing into my skin. My hands shot up, clawing at invisible fingers, my breath cut off. The marble floor blurred beneath me, my vision swimming.
No. No, this wasn’t happening. This wasn’t—
“Medusa!”
Orion’s voice cut through the haze, sharp as a blade. My eyes flew open, and suddenly the marble was gone. The temple was gone.
The city streets rushed back in a violent blur, and I collapsed onto my knees, gasping.
Orion knelt beside me, his hands gripping my shoulders. “What happened?”
I couldn’t answer. My throat burned, my body trembling. The serpents coiled around me, pressing against my skin, as if trying to shield me.
Orion’s face darkened. “That bastard.”
He knew.
Hades.
This was his doing.
He hadn’t just sent a Shade. He had reached into my mind, dug into my wounds with his filthy hands and twisted the knife.
He was showing me exactly what he could do.
If I wouldn’t take his deal willingly, he would break me until I had no choice.
The serpents hissed violently, echoing my rage.
I pushed myself to my feet, still unsteady but burning with fury. “If he thinks this will work,” I spat, “he’s wrong.”
Orion watched me carefully, his gaze guarded. “Medusa—”
“No.” My voice was steady now. Cold. “I won’t let him use my past against me. Not him. Not ever.”
Orion hesitated, then gave a slow nod. “Then we make sure he doesn’t get another chance.”
The city stretched before us, its lights casting a dim glow against the night. Hades was lurking somewhere in its shadows, watching, waiting, weaving his web.
Fine.
Let him watch.
But I would not be his pawn.
Not now. Not ever.