"Kill that baby!"
Archon's angry decree rang in Apollymi's ears as she flew through the marbled halls of Katoteros. There was a fierce wind blowing down the hallway, plastering her black gown against her pregnant body and whipping her white blond hair out in spiraling tendrils. Four of her demons ran behind her, protecting her from the other gods who were more than eager to carry out Archon's orders. She and her Charonte demons had already blasted half of her pantheon back. And she was ready to kill the rest.
They would not take her child!
Betrayal burned deep inside her heart. Since the moment of their union, she'd been true to her husband. Even when she'd learned Archon had been faithless to her, she'd still loved him and welcomed his bastards into her home.
Now he wanted the life of her unborn child.
How could he do this? For centuries she'd been trying to conceive Archon's son—it was all she'd ever wanted.
A babe of her own.
Now due to the prophecy of three small girls—Archon's jealous bastards, her child was to be sacrificed and killed. Because of what? Words those little brats had whispered?
Never.
This was her baby. Hers! And she would kill every Atlantean god in existence to keep him.
"Basi!" She shouted for her niece.
Basi flashed into the hallway before her and staggered until she braced herself against the wall. As the goddess of excess, she was seldom sober—which fit Apollymi's plan perfectly.
Basi hiccupped and giggled. "Did you need me, Auntie? By the way, why is everyone so upset? Did I miss something important?"
Apollymi grabbed her by the wrist and then teleported them out of Katoteros where the Atlantean gods made their home down to the hell realm of Kalosis where her brother ruled.
She'd been born here in this dank, forbidden place. This was the only realm that truly scared Archon. Even with all his power, he knew the dark was where Apollymi reigned supreme. Here, with her powers fortified, she could destroy him.
As the goddess of death, destruction and war, Apollymi kept a room in her brother's opulent ebony palace to remind her of her station.
That was where she took Basi now.
Apollymi locked the doors and windows to her room before she summoned her two most trustworthy demon protectors. "Xiamara, Xedrix, I need you."
The demons who resided on her as tattooed marks pulled themselves off her body and manifested before her.
In her current incarnation, Xiamara's everchanging skin tone was red, marbled with white. Long black hair framed a pixieish face where large red eyes glowed with concern. Xiamara's son Xedrix shared her features, but his skin was marbled with red and orange, something it often did when he was nervous. "What do you need, akra?" Xiamara asked, addressing her with the Atlantean term for lady and master.
Apollymi had no idea why Xiamara insisted on calling her akra when they were more like sisters than master and servant. "Guard this room from everyone. I don't care if Archon himself demands entry, you kill him. Do you understand?"
"Your will is ours, akra. No one will disturb you."
"Do their horns have to match their wings?" Basi asked as she spun around the bedpost while eyeing the demons. "I mean really. You'd think to be so colorful, they'd have more variety. I think Xedrix would look better if his were orange."
Apollymi ignored her. She didn't have time for Basi's stupidity. Not if she were to save her son's life.
She wanted this child and she was willing to do anything for him.
Anything.
Her heart hammering, she pulled her Atlantean dagger from her dresser drawer and held it in her hands. The gold hilt was cold against her skin. Black roses and bones were entwined and engraved down the steel blade that glowed in the dim light. It was a dagger meant for ending life.
Today it would be used to give it.
She winced at the thought of what was to come, but there was no other way to save him. Closing her eyes and gripping the cold dagger, she tried not to weep, but one tear slid from the corner of her eye.
Enough! She roared at herself as she angrily wiped it away. This was a time for action, not emotions. Her son needed her.
Her hand trembling from fury and fear, she went to the bed and lay down. She pulled her gown up, exposing her belly. She ran her hand over her distended stomach where her son was waiting, protected and yet in danger. Never again would she be this close to him. Never again would she feel him kick and turn in restlessness as she smiled in tender patience. She was about to separate them even though it wasn't time yet for Apostolos to be born.
But she had no choice.
"Be strong for me, my son," she whispered before she sliced open her stomach to expose him.
"Oh, how disgusting!" Basi whined. "I'm—"
"Don't you move!" Apollymi roared. "You leave this room and I'll rip out your heart."