Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
I changed sides. I’m marrying Dionysus. If I were a true ally, I would go straight to him with the information I have and let him know the address and time I’m supposed to meet Asterion tomorrow. All it would take is a couple of Athena’s strike teams and Asterion would be no more. I would be safe, or as close to it as I’m capable of being. Being married to Dionysus is hardly my idea of a perfect future, but at least I’d be alive. I might even be safe.
Gods help me, but I can’t do it.
If it was anyone else… If my traitorous heart didn’t keep getting in the way… If, if, if.
Asterion isn’t bluffing. If I don’t go to him tomorrow night, he’ll come to me again, and he’ll kill more people to do it. The statement about blood on my hands was blatant emotional manipulation, but even recognizing it doesn’t mean I’m immune. I don’t want anyone else to die.
No, damn it, that’s not the full truth. The full truth is that I want Asterion alive, and I’m willing to let others fall to make it happen. He’s not asking for the blueprints of this building to plan a surprise party. It’s obviously part of my father and Circe’s continuing attack on Olympus. It’s only a matter of time before they bring down the barrier.
Then she’ll come and we’ll probably all die. I wish I had more faith in Olympus at this point, especially since I’ve changed sides, but they’ve been a step behind her this entire time. They’re too fractured, even now, when their only chance is to cooperate with each other.
“Fancy meeting you here.”
I jolt as a familiar woman drapes herself across the chair that Asterion vacated. Hera. She looks as good as always, her long dark hair slicked back and her lean form draped in loose menswear that looks intentionally rumpled. She peers into Asterion’s mug and then uses one sharp-nailed finger to slide it away from her.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by.”
I blink. Surely she doesn’t expect me to believe that. There’s no such thing as coincidences, especially now. Which means… “You’re having me followed.”
“Of course I am. I took a risk bringing you across the river and setting up the marriage with Dionysus. I would be a fool if I didn’t check up on my investment. Especially after that little scare last night.”
If that’s true, then she knows what I’m doing here and who I met. I search her expression, trying to divine what she’s thinking. Is she about to turn me in? Maybe she’ll kill me herself. For all her polished exterior, she seems the type who’s not afraid to get her hands dirty. I press my hands flat to the table and strive for calm. “What do you want?”
“A lot of things.” She taps her sharp nails on the table. “But from you? You’re perfectly positioned to further my goals. The Minotaur wants the plans for Dodona Tower? I’m more than willing to sit back and let it happen…for a price.”
This table is situated back from the others. Asterion and I spoke softly enough that no one should’ve been able to overhear what we were talking about. I fight down a shiver. I don’t know how she managed to get that information, and I doubt she’ll tell me if I ask. I sit back. “Everything has a price. Do you think I don’t know that? There’s no point in playing coy. Tell me what you want, Hera.”
“I like you.” Her smile is downright predatory. “I won’t stand in the way of you getting the blueprints for your…friend. In exchange for my silence, your father’s people won’t try to kill anyone—except Zeus.”
Zeus. Her husband.
“Why do you want him dead?”
“He’s more than capable of taking care of himself.” She shrugs a single shoulder. “But if he’s not? Well, then, he deserves his fate. He’s the most powerful person in the city, and his choices are bringing us to the brink of ruin.”
Wasn’t I just thinking the same thing earlier? Zeus shouldn’t shoulder the full blame, not when the rest of the Thirteen continue to indulge in backstabbing and selfish ambition, but he’s the only one who has a chance to unite them—and so far, he’s failed spectacularly. I wouldn’t necessarily condemn him to death over it. Circe will, though. I swallow hard. “But what about the succession? If he dies, someone else steps into the role of Zeus, and whatever your purpose, it will be chaos. He has no children—”
“Doesn’t he?” She leans back and presses a hand to her stomach. “You’re right, at least in part. If he died with no children, the title would pass to one of his siblings; Helen, in this case. She’d have to give up the title of Ares, and it would be an unmitigated mess. But in the event that one of the legacy titles dies and their spouse is pregnant?” Her smile widens. “Well, that spouse becomes regent.”