“You were destined for something greater than this, Orpheus. Greater than thievery and vengeance, and much greater than ignorance. Do not fall into the trappings of the gods. For it makes you no better than them.”
He ground his teeth. “Look close, Fate. I am no better than them. The fact I was born part daemon proves that loud and clear.”
He pushed past her, nothing but a gust of wind hitting him where her solid flesh should be. He was done with people telling him what to do. His father Perseus had tried. Zeus had ordered. This Fate had even cajoled long ago. And in this life? Isadora, the Argonauts, even Skyla…they were all trying to make him into something he wasn’t.
Thoughts of Skyla flittered through his mind, followed by memories of when they’d first met so many years ago. When he was a man wanting more. When he’d known she was sent by Zeus to seduce the element out from under him. When he’d turned the tide on her and seduced her right back, just to torment the god.
“You are not a daemon, hero,” the Fate called after him. “Not anymore. You earned your soul back, just as I knew you would.”
So he’d been right. His daemon really was gone. And that fullness he’d felt in his chest…that had been his soul. A soul he’d come to believe he just didn’t have. Not that it made a difference. It didn’t change who he was inside. The same man he’d been over two thousand years ago. One who cared for nothing but what he was due.
“Vengeance will do you no good,” the Fate added. “And a great many will suffer if you fail this time.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Fate. Retribution’s the only thing that’ll make all the shit I’ve been through worth it.” What he’d done, what Skyla had done, what had happened in the long lonely years since.
“You—”
“And the nice thing about revenge,” he added, “it means I’m not in hell anymore.”
“There’s more than one kind of hell in this life, Orpheus. There’s the hell that Hades can subject you to, and then there’s the living hell. The kind you create for yourself. The kind that’s impossible to break free from. Ask Skyla about that hell. Ask her how many lovers she’s taken since your death or why she stayed with the Sirens for so long. You are not the only one who sacrificed and suffered. You are simply the one who got a second chance.”
His feet stilled on the sodden grass. He didn’t want to hear about Skyla or what she’d been through. He didn’t want to think about the consequences of what he’d done. He just wanted to hold on to his anger as he’d done for so long. To blame the gods for the fucking hand of fate he’d been dealt. He just wanted…
What? What did he want?
I choose you. Daemon or no daemon. Argonaut or not. Zeus and Athena are wrong about you, Orpheus. You’re not evil.
How can you be so sure?
Because I watched you with your brother. An evil soul can’t love like that.
I don’t have a soul—
Yes, you do. One that deserves so much more than you’ve been given.
The air felt as if it shot out of his lungs, tightening his chest to painful levels. He wanted that. He wanted to feel the way he had in that moment. When the past and future, when gods and wars and who had done what to whom didn’t matter. When he’d only known contentment and peace and…love.
He turned to glare at the Fate, only she was already gone.
He looked around the rubble of the temple, half expecting her to pop out from behind a broken column, only she didn’t. He was alone. And the Orb that had moments ago felt so hot against his chest was now cold and flat.
“Bloody Fate,” he muttered. “Bloody conscience.” He looked up at the sky, a swirling gray threatening—what else?—rain. “I’m not supposed to have a conscience!”
Only he did. He always had, even when his daemon had been with him. A conscience that now told him Skyla wasn’t entirely to blame for what had happened to him.
He looked down at the air element in his hand. It too was cold. Just like the rain beginning to fall in big fat droplets around him.
“Orpheus.”
He turned on the path to find Skyla feet from him. She was dressed in the same get-up she always wore, and with her blond hair flying back from the wind and the rain drizzling down around her, she looked powerful and formidable. How he imagined Athena would look before taking down a target.
Her gaze shot to the air element in his hand. The one she’d suspected him of taking. The one they’d argued about that last day. The one he’d told her had nothing to do with her and was none of her business. “You found it.”
He heard the accusation in her voice and told himself to be careful. She was still a Siren, no matter what she’d said to him last night. And no matter where he went from here, he wasn’t going to be the fool again. He closed his hand around the element, blocking it from her view. “I did.”
“What do you plan to do with it?”
“Does it matter?”