Who? His family?
Of course, his family. There’s far too much of goodbye in his expression, and suddenly I’m drowning in open air. Little Bean’s life force bumps through me in protest, and I nearly whimper.
Griffin’s eyes turn bleak with sorrow. “Take care of our baby.”
I shake my head in useless denial, staring at him through a sheen of tears. Griffin. So fierce and loyal. So selfless. How dare he do this to us? How dare he not?
I swallow the acid flooding my throat, and it burns a path straight to my aching heart. I don’t know what to do. I’ve never felt so helpless in my life!
Ares turns his attention back to my husband but makes no move to engage Griffin in combat.
“Thanos, please!” I play on old, strong ties by using the name I’ve always called him. “Please, let it go. Just this once.”
Ares shakes his head, his thick, golden-brown hair brushing the tops of his sun-bronzed shoulders. “It doesn’t work that way, little monster. I don’t make these rules. Even though I should,” he mutters as an afterthought, throwing a truculent look toward Olympus in the north.
Selena snorts. I mean Persephone. No one is who they’re supposed to be!
Ares’s expression remains one of mild curiosity while Griffin tenses for the fight of his life. My eyes jump back and forth between them. Something feels off. Well, nothing about this could ever feel right, but there’s an odd gap, a strange discrepancy between our stark fear and heartbreak and the Gods’ prickly banter and cutting jibes. Someone I love is doomed, and neither of them seems to care!
“I haven’t fought a human in centuries,” Ares muses with some interest.
“You fought me,” I say. And knocked me senseless more than once. Usually by accident.
“I trained you,” he counters, glancing at me. “That’s different.”
His eyes suddenly narrow, and he looks around. “Someone’s coming.”
Persephone nods, apparently sensing the same thing. I peer in every direction but see only the dark clouds rolling in.
“Decision time.” Ares swings the full, power-heavy force of his gaze back on Kaia. “She’s ripe for training.”
Kaia shudders from head to toe. Her chin is high, though, and no tears wet her lashes.
Griffin looks at me, his eyes filled with a lifetime of words I’ll never get to hear. He leaves me with the most important. “I love you.”
It feels as though the ground drops out from under me. A terrible ache explodes in my chest, cutting off my breath as the only man I’ll ever love turns back to the God of War.
“If you won’t fight me for her,” Griffin says, “then just take me inst—”
“There is another solution,” Persephone cuts in coolly.
My heart nearly shatters with relief. I knew Selena wouldn’t let me down. She wouldn’t!
“Of course there is.” Piers’s voice hollows with pain. Looking at Ares, he pulls his shoulders back and swallows hard. “Take me instead.”
CHAPTER 5
I stare in disbelief. Surprise and relief make the ground roll beneath my feet, and I sway toward Griffin. I didn’t expect that from Piers, hadn’t considered it, and frankly didn’t even know it was possible for the summoner to be taken. Unfortunately, now I can’t hate him nearly as much. It’s the best solution. The only solution. It’s also bloody annoying when the root of the problem becomes the martyr.
Kaia lets out the sob I expect she’s been holding back for a while now. Just one, and it’s over quickly, but it racks her entire body. Then she pulls herself together and shakes her head, glaring at Piers like he just now did something truly wrong.
“No. No.” Her refusal is absolute, and my mouth opens in shock. Kaia would sacrifice herself for Piers? For a traitor?
Persephone steps closer to her. Despite the enigma she’s always been and a certain aloofness in the core of her nature, the Goddess’s instinct is to nurture and protect. “Hush,” she says, laying a soothing hand on Kaia’s arm. “It’s for the best.”
“Piers hates war,” Kaia blurts out. “He’ll do anything to avoid it. It’s only loyalty to Griffin that made him fight or recruit soldiers in the first place.”
Loyalty to Griffin? I barely contain the unsavory interjection burning on my tongue. As it is, I can’t help the scathing look I throw at Piers. Did he think things were just fine before Griffin took over Sinta and started this Power Bid? With cruel, selfish, unpredictable Alphas, and royal soldiers doing as they pleased? Sure, burn my home, steal my stuff, abuse my son or daughter. How could Piers possibly have been happier with that? Or was he too wrapped up in his books and scrolls to realize what life was really like?
Piers looks at his sister, his expression deadened by resignation. “Don’t argue, Kaia. It’ll be all right.”
“No, no, he can’t go.” Kaia glances around wildly, as if there’s some other solution out there just waiting to be found, one we haven’t seen yet. It’s obvious that her fierce loyalty shapes everything about her, every decision she makes. Just like Griffin.
“Piers brought this upon himself,” Persephone points out. “You are not to blame, nor should you be punished for his mistake.”
“But that’s it!” Kaia cries. “It was a mistake. Surely he can undo it. Something can be done!”
Ares shakes his head. Both he and Persephone look at Piers with assessing expressions, and suddenly I know: Griffin, Kaia, and I were never in danger.
The breath leaves my lungs in a great gust. “It was always him, wasn’t it?” That discrepancy I felt makes sense now. It’s why Persephone and Ares could taunt each other and stand around squabbling while I nearly had a heart attack and was scared out of my mind. “Why let us suffer? You made Griffin choose. You made Kaia think she was doomed!”
Ares frowns at my tone. “She was ‘doomed,’ as you call it—unless Piers did what he needed to do.”
“But if you could just take him, then why didn’t you?”
“Because he needed to learn a lesson,” Ares answers flatly.
“And he hoped that Piers would sacrifice himself—with sufficient motivation. Ares always was a gambler.”
We all startle at the new voice. Well, we humans do. I whirl, an echo of power still bouncing in my ears, even though the words were softly spoken.
I recognize the approaching Goddess immediately. When I can tear my eyes off her, they jump to Griffin. My husband recognizes her, too. His gaze is rapt, his full mouth slightly parted, his attention utterly absorbed. There was no earth-shattering entrance, no dropping from the sky, but she walks toward us with sure strides, confident and tall. Her grace is athletic, her bearing exactly what it should be for a primordial being immersed in both knowledge and war.