Chapter 11

Hermes shifts, his wing tickling my temple. I jolt awake and turn to find him already staring at me, his eyes now rested but full of dread.

He just looks at me for a long moment, then his gaze flicks to the bag at my feet.

“What are you planning, Alira?” His words are low and timid, like he already knows the answer.

I blink at him, my fingers tightening around his hand. “I can’t be the reason you’re hurt.” My voice comes out smaller than I anticipated, and I hate how scared I am. Packing my bag is one thing, speaking it out loud is another. “If you’re in Olympus, I want to be too.”

His mouth curls into a deep frown and he shakes his head. “Absolutely not.” I can hear the panic settling into his tone already. “Have you not heard enough to make you realize that you should be terrified of winding up there? You’re a mortal. The gods will devour you.”

“I’m terrified of you getting your freedom torn away because of me.”

His eyes fall shut as he slowly shakes his head again. “I’m not getting anything taken away because of you, Zeus—”

“Don’t lie to me.” I cut him off with a voice stern enough to grab his attention.

“You could die,” he says in a near whisper. His thumb grazes my chin as he tilts my face up. “Please don’t ask me to put you in that kind of danger.”

I expected anger. Maybe outright denial. I didn’t expect so much sadness in his eyes.

Even so, I steel my shoulders and wrap my other hand around his. “What do you expect me to do? Watch you get torn apart?”

His teeth grind as his eyebrows draw together. “Please, Alira.”

I pull my eyes away from his and turn my attention to our entwined fingers. “I read about Psyche and Ariadne. I know it’s possible.”

He lets out a long breath through his nose, his expression turning sour. “Ariadne died a slow and painful death when Dionysus couldn’t protect her from the Aether. Her lungs corroded and her blood boiled until all that was left was a pile of bones.” He tugs his hand out from between mine as he sits up straight, his wings pulling in close.

“Don’t pretend to know what you’re talking about,” he snaps, sharper than I’ve ever heard him. And just like that, he pulls away.

I didn’t know that. Hopefully, it was less painful than it sounds. “The ichor.” The idea hits me like a physical blow. “I was supposed to die, and I didn’t. You know something about that and you’re not telling me.”

“That’s different,” he mutters.

“It’s not. There’s something in me that isn’t upset by all your Olympus bullshit.”

His curls fall into his face as his head tips forward. “I can’t explain why you weren’t hurt. But that doesn’t mean the Aether isn’t going to harm you.”

“And what about Psyche? She was fine. And she was deitied.”

“Psyche is one.” His hand slams down against the cushion, his fingers digging into the loose fabric. “There have been thousands.”

I didn’t know that, either.

“What do you think will happen if I walk in there with a mortal girl on my arm?” he continues, his voice taut and biting. “I’m not exactly well liked right now. Who do you think they’ll blame?”

“Then what?” I snap back, my stomach knotting as I watch his face fall. “There’s no happy ending to this if I stay here. Either you stay away and let yourself forget me or your wings get clipped.” A tear soaks into my jeans. I didn’t even realize I was crying.

He doesn’t respond. He just stares at me like he’s wishing he could erase all of this from his mind.

“Don’t make me lose you. Please.”

He scrubs a hand over his mouth, his gaze flicking to the ceiling like he’ll find an answer there. “If—and I’m saying if—you come with, you have to stay by me and do as I say without question.”

I just nod my head. I’m watching his resolve crack, and it’s heartbreaking. I hate to be the one hurting him, but what’s the alternative?

“And you can’t do anything stupid.” I half expect him to follow up with something clever, but his frown only deepens. “If someone looks like they can hurt you, they can and they will.”

His mouth snaps shut and I nod again. “Got it. Do as you say and trust no one.”

He looks like he’s going to cry as he pats the cushion next to him. I join him on the couch and curl into his side, wrapping my arms around his bicep as my head leans on his shoulder.

His temple rests against the top of my head as his free hand grazes my arm. “I think you’re making a terrible choice.”

I inhale brewing rain and try to memorize the scent. “It’s the only choice.”

“I know.” His voice cracks as he pulls his arm out of mine and wraps it around my shoulders. He tugs me closer, until my head rests against his chest.

The sound of his rapidly beating heart does little to soothe the anxiety bubbling in my belly. I knew there was a heart in there.

His wings close around us, wrapping us in a heat that would feel oppressive if it was anything else. Plush feathers press into my back, forming a soft blanket of warmth. Like he’s trying to protect this moment from whatever comes next.

Stolen novel; please report.

“Just let me have a moment with you,” he mumbles into my hair. “Before they try to ruin this.”

We stay like this for a long while, just breathing each other in like this is the last chance we’ll get. His hand traces absent lines down my spine as I let the rise and fall of his chest lull me into relaxation.

After what feels like an eternity, his hand smooths over my hair. “We have to go,” he whispers, already sounding completely defeated.

His wings pull away from me, letting the cold, stale air of my apartment back in.

Sitting up, I nod my head and stretch my legs out in front of me. He stares straight ahead, not meeting my gaze as I stand and grab my bag.

He pushes off the couch and twists his back while I slip my shoes on. By the time I’m ready to go, he’s already fidgeting again.

“Ready?” he asks in a low voice, opening his arms for me.

I step into the embrace, wrapping my arms around his middle. A soft chuckle pushes out of him, and he hooks his arms under mine. “While I appreciate the hug,” he starts, pulling my arms up to wrap around his neck, “you’ll need a bit more stability where we’re going.”

Right. The air ripping portal things. “How bad is this gonna hurt?” I ask, my breath fanning the curls around his temples as he clasps his hands behind my back.

He winces at the question, pulling me flush against him. “It probably will not be pleasant.” His wings wrap around us tightly, securing us in a little tube of feathers. “Whatever you do, don’t let go.”

I don’t want to know what he knows can go wrong. My stomach is already in knots, my knees threatening to give out at any moment. I’ve never air portal-ed anywhere before.

The room around us pulls tight, like the walls are trying to stretch us in every direction. I bury my face in his neck and fist my hands in the shoulders of his tunic.

The world collapses inward, folding in on us until my bones vibrate. The floor falls out from under us, my hair slapping painfully against my cheeks as wind whips around us.

For a moment, I’m weightless. Floating in a void that feels like the worst pits of dread and the softest planes of comfort all at the same time.

And then we crash into something solid.

My knees buckle under my own weight and a screech is ripped out of me as I lose my grip on Hermes. My back connects with something soft and wet and my bones scream.

It’s like every bone in my body is being compressed, pushed together through cartilage and muscle until my nerves light on fire.

A scream that can’t be my own erupts from my chest as my nails claw at my skin, trying to rip the pain out of my body.

And then, it’s gone.

Like nothing happened.

My eyes peel open, and I squint against the bright rays of sunlight. Hermes is kneeling at my side with a bored smirk on his face.

“Wow,” he drags out, trying and failing to hide his smile. “Seems like I’ve got a bit of a drama queen on my hands.”

A sharp pain pounds through my skull as I let my head fall to the ground. Taking a deep breath, I will my heartrate to slow. The pain is completely gone, leaving a numb tingling in its wake.

Hermes hooks a hand around my forearms and pulls me upward.

The world tilts at the movement and my belly lurches. I don’t even get the chance to try to hold it back before the contents of my stomach spill out. Dangerously close to the stupid sandals.

Hermes takes a step back and curls his lip in mock disgust. I don’t have the energy to say anything smart, so I just tuck my hand in the crook of his arm and exhale a long breath while I swipe my sleeve across my mouth.

“Sorry,” I breathe out, stepping over the mess as I steady myself.

He purses his lips as his brows dart upward. “You handled it better than most gods I’ve taken back and forth from the mortal realm.”

“Really?” Maybe I’m not such an embarrassment after all.

“No.” His smile cracks open as he tugs me closer, pulling me into his side. “But at least you know how to make a memorable entrance.”

My body still feels like someone wrung it out like a dishrag, but the burning’s gone. My limbs tremble as I take a slow step, each motion testing whether my bones are actually still intact.

I nearly forgot amidst all the pain and barfing that we’re in mother fucking Olympus. My eyes strain against the unnervingly bright light as I take in my surroundings.

The air has the same petrichor tang as Hermes, but it’s stronger now. There’s a pinch of something heavier, something burnt and sickly sweet.

We’re standing in a field of grass, seemingly infinite in every direction except forward. In front of us, there’s an impossibly tall gate of gold. It’s as wide as a house and tall enough to disappear into the cotton-candy clouds decorating the sky.

A fence of green hedges stretches out in either direction, just as tall and somehow more imposing with all the twisted vines and thorned flowers.

“What is that?” The sheer largeness of the gate is enough to make me feel dizzy. Anxiety pools in my belly, threatening to turn to nausea again.

“That,” he begins, tugging me forward. “Is the Gate of Olympus.”

“The Gate of Olympus,” I parrot, tilting my head back to take in its impossible height. “So, on the other side…”

I don’t have time to finish the thought before Hermes shifts, his wings spreading wide behind us as his hand reaches upward, his fingers spreading like he’s grasping toward something.

The emptiness around his hand sparkles to life, golden flecks dancing through the air before coming together in a line. His hand clamps around nothing, but as his fingers curl, the gold shimmer solidifies into a long pole. It’s as long as a flute, but thin and intricate with engravings. He moves it like it’s light as the air itself.

He clutches the golden staff like it was made for his hands. It’s decorated with two snakes coiling up it, cresting with two wings sprouting from either side.

“What is that?” I ask again, my eyes straining against the reflection catching against the metal.

“It’s called a Caduceus,” he says with pride, holding it up above us. “It lets me get in and out unnoticed.”

As if responding to the staff, the gate groans. The sound is deep and ancient, like the hinges haven’t been oiled in centuries. Then, with eerie grace, the doors swing inward.

As the world in front of us cracks open, light as bright and burning as the sun spills through. I hold up a hand to shield my eyes and Hermes snorts beside me. “Just wait until you see the Pantheon,” he chirps, his shoulders tugging upward as he beams.

I swallow thickly, tightening my grip on his arm. “You seem oddly excited given the circumstances.”

His arm pulls out of my grasp, and he wraps it around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. He shutters out a breath that sounds somewhere between nervous and exhilarated. “Of course I’m excited.” He turns his head to press a kiss to my temple. “The Empyrean Gates open only for those Olympus deems worthy. Seems like I’ve got a good taste in mortals.”

The grand doors push fully open, letting out a low hum as the world inside comes into focus. There’s greenery as far as I can see, with a path of white pebbles weaving through stalls of what appears to be markets.

There’s a steady jumble of speech I can’t quite understand echoing outward as people—

Not people. Not people at all.

Beings with bark where skin should be, some with horns or feathers, others with teeth sharp like needles and ears like fins.

All kinds of gods or deities or nymphs, or whatever they are, bustle around in front of us, fingering through goods or standing around laughing.

My brain can’t even begin to rationalize what I’m seeing. The sky is too bright and the grass is too green and the trees blossom with flowers like nothing I’ve seen before.

Bells chime from somewhere too far away, along with the trembling of harp strings. It feels like I’m stepping into a Michelangelo painting brought to life.

“The last mortal I brought through a set of doors like this one,” Hermes starts, pulling me forward as he strides through the gate, “became Queen of the Underworld. So no pressure.”

Oh. My breath catches at his words. Shit. Persephone. Wife of Hades. Greek Satan. Hermes is the one who escorted her into hell.

Before I can come up with a response, the gates whine as they close behind us.

Hermes holds out his free hand as he motions to the achingly beautiful and hauntingly other world around us.

“Welcome to Olympus, Alira.”