Acontius had been a boy, a foolish, eight-year-old boy, when he’d chosen this life. Had he truly been old enough to dedicate himself in such a manner?
“You decided.”
“I was a child! I wanted to make you proud, and you were the closest I had to a mother.”
Artemis’ scowl disappeared, her expression sliding into an unreadable expression. But she did lower her bow, and the hounds retreated to her side.
Acontius’ chest rose and fell quickly. The air was thick with tension, and so quiet that the soft intake of breath from behind him told him Delia was still there, and she was crying.
“This isn’t real, this can’t be…” Delia murmured over and over.
His heart pounded so hard, he thought it would leap from his chest and cease. Still, Artemis hadn’t mentioned a word about the deal, which surprised him.
Artemis’ fingers relinquished the hold on her bow and arrow, which vanished before they hit the ground. Closing the distance between herself and Acontius, she grabbed ahold of his shirt. “You have two days before I return, and that is all.”
The surrounding air shuddered as the landscape sunk inward, then expanded. In a blink, the beach was in motion again, as if nothing had happened. Artemis was gone, and so were the hounds.
“Delia,” Acontius turned around to face her. She held her shaking hands over her mouth, and with every step he took forward, she took another backward.
“No! What was that?” Delia shrieked, motioning to the space where Artemis once was. “Let me at least try to process this.” After a few moments, she started walking toward the car again.
Muttering a curse under his breath, Acontius followed her. “Delia…”
“Still processing. Was everything you told me a lie?” She spat out, huffing through the effort of walking in the sand.
“No. None of it was. I never lied to you! My family is from Kea. I’ve omitted truths, but everything…” Acontius snagged her elbow, halting her in her tracks. “It’s all true. Please, Delia… please.” He glanced off to the side, willing the earth to open up and for Hades to drag him to the depths, away from his misery. “I love you.”
She sucked a breath in and reeled back, like someone slapped her. “Don’t say that.”
“I know. You’re leaving, and it’s foolish to try.” His hold on her elbow weakened until he released her. Defeat etched itself onto his face, and he felt every year tacked onto his body. As fast as his heart had pounded before, he was fairly certain it was shattering now. “I’ll bring you back.”
Delia said nothing. Not as they got to the car, not as she sat in the passenger seat, and not before she drove away from his apartment in her own rental, leaving Acontius to wallow in misery.
If he’d only listened to Artemis, if he’d stayed true to the vow, this never would have happened. “Damn it all.” He pounded his fist against the side of his apartment complex, his eyes wrenching shut. Every piece of him ached. What an idiot he'd been.
With two days left until Artemis came to make good on her promise, Acontius was desperate, and the only thing he could think to do was to drag another individual into this horrendous mess.
Racing across the street, he darted into the convenience store and scoured the shelves for a sleeping aid. When he found a few, he scooped them up and ran to the checkout line.
The clerk raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he slipped the products into a bag.
Not waiting until he was in the comfort of his apartment, Acontius opened the package of melatonin outside of the store and downed a handful of the gummies.
In hopes of quickening the drowsiness, he ran across the street, jogged up a few flights of stairs, and then finally burst into his apartment. With his blood pumping quicker, it was only a matter of time before sleep tugged at him.
Acontius sunk onto his couch, frustrated and out of breath. “Morpheus, I know you hear me. I need to speak with you.” Nothing happened, not yet. Not until the last tendrils of sleep pulled Acontius under.
After fifteen minutes, his eyes grew heavier, and his breathing slowed. “Morpheus,” Acontius slurred, slumping over onto the couch in a heap.
Blackness met him. The sound of the light humming in his apartment faded away, until all he heard was the soft tip-tap of bare feet. The tickling sensation of a feather dragging on Acontius’ hand roused him.
Blinking away the sleep, Acontius sat up, eyes focusing on the man who crouched before him. A pair of intense blue eyes watched him carefully, and long, dark, wavy hair framed a stern face.
The apartment still looked the same, except the edges held a wavering light, as if the image of the room would peel away at any moment. This wasn’t real; it was Morpheus’ realm.
“Why do you call me?” Black eyebrows furrowed in question as he leaned in, pushing his forefinger into Acontius’ chest. “You are one of Artemis’ hunters.” It wasn’t a question. The male stood to his full height, clucking his tongue as he spun away. “I won’t interfere with her business.”
“Wait! It isn’t. I need… I need a favor. It’s for a mortal.”
Morpheus halted, turning on his heel, his black feathered wings tucked close to his body. A flowy, button-up shirt revealed the hardened tan flesh beneath. “What price are you willing to pay for my services?”
Of course he’d want payment. Nothing came without a price, especially from a god. “A dream. One I’ve kept for centuries.”
Folding his arms, Morpheus waited patiently. “Which is?”
“The dream of my mother.”
Surprise registered on Morpheus’ face. “The very dream that Artemis gifted you?”
Irritation crept into Acontius. He sat up from the floor of his apartment and strode forward. “A dream won’t bring her back or change the course of history. But what it can do is change the course of my future.”
Nodding, Morpheus’ posture relaxed, and he extended his hand. “Fair enough, child. What is it you want?”
“Weave a dream for Delia Rentumis with an apology from me, but also the truth. My truth, and what could be for us.”
“That is dangerous, Acontius,” Morpheus hissed. “Showing a mortal their future is beyond foolish.”
“I am a fool.”
Morpheus snorted. “This is apparent.”
Desperate for Morpheus to do this favor, Acontius pressed on. “If she doesn’t see, then she will die. If she marries anyone but me, she will die, and it’ll be my fault. I cannot bear that for an eternity, not even as a hound.”
Morpheus seemed to weigh his words, then sighed, motioning for him to step forward. “Come closer.”
Acontius stepped forward, closing his eyes. He remembered what it had felt like when the memory seeped into his skull: warm and comforting. But this time, something would be removed.
A bright, flickering light danced in front of him as Morpheus’ hand drew closer to Acontius’ temple, and when his cool touch connected with his skin, his head throbbed. A minor inconvenience, like brain freeze from ice cream, and in a split second, it was gone.
Acontius attempted to conjure up the memory of his mother.
Gone.
Her face gone, her laugh gone.
Gone.
“It is done. Although, I cannot say what outcome she’ll choose, because the future is a spider web of choices. I make no promises to you as to what will come of this, Acontius.” Morpheus paused, twisting his lips. “What was Artemis going to do?”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Acontius sighed. “Turn me into a hound and let my stupid vow be the end of Delia. In turn, I’d live with my idiotic consequences for as long as she allowed me to live.”
Nodding, Morpheus picked at his nails. “Fitting. It never fails to surprise me.”
“What?”
“Desperation in mortals. It drives them to do the most mindless things.” Morpheus rolled his eyes and began to walk away. “I’ll weave the dream for you, child, but I make no promises it’ll work. And should
this earn more of Artemis’ wrath, I’ll not be involved.”
“Thank you. I am in your debt.” Dangerous words.
“No. We are even. I have your dream, and you have my word. Do not bargain for more. Now, sleep deep and sleep well.”
Morpheus’ figure blurred as Acontius fell deeper into sleep, until his mind knew no more.
Delia
* * *
Was this what it felt like to have a mental breakdown? The more Delia tried to process the evening’s turn of events, the more she thought she was losing it.
The gods were real.
As a girl, she’d always believed they were, but now, as a full-grown adult? It was like believing in a fairytale, yet here she was.
Conner—no, Acontius—was a figure from history. Like this was some kind of Greek retelling of Kate and Leopold. Wiping tears from her eyes, she focused on the roadway. “No, this is real life. And even if I did love him… This is stupid.”
It didn’t matter. In two days’ time, she’d be gone, and her vacation would come to an end. This brief respite from reality would be over. She just needed to keep herself collected so her father didn’t wag his finger and tell her, “I told you so.”
Of course, he’d remind her she was still reeling from heartbreak, that she needed time to heal, and he was right. But it had felt good, natural, and the way she’d clicked with Conner—Acontius—felt like fate.
After a long, miserable car ride to Istanbul, Delia burst through the hotel door and found her father reading in the living room space. He frowned at her and motioned to a chair.
At one in the morning, he should’ve been fast asleep, but he wasn’t, and it struck Delia as odd.
“I know. You were right, it was stupid. I shouldn’t have rushed in, and now it hurts… again.” She gripped at her chest, wishing that she could mend the shattering pieces, and sat down. “I’m so stupid.” Her heart ached beneath her hand. Sure, it beat steadily, but with every pulse, it hurt. Wanting. Needing.
“No. You’re going to listen to me. It’s about that boy. It took me a bit, but I recognize him from last year. He and I spoke at length about the Temple of Artemis.” Her dad’s bushy brows knit together as he closed the book he was reading. “You were so eager to leave before I had a chance to speak to you, and on the phone… it didn’t seem right. Delia, remember last year? The engraved apple you found and told me about?”
As the question registered in her head, Delia threw her hands up. What did that have to do with… Her thoughts collided as she wracked her brain, trying to remember the inscription. She blinked, vaguely recalling her father walking away from one of the tour guides last year, smiling and joking about how he should be an educator for the museum. “Yeah?” she asked shakily.
“Since we’ve been here, I’ve done some prodding myself. You uttered those words on sacred ground, binding you to this… Acontius. You swore to the goddess herself that you would. What happens when you don’t hold up your end? Delia, this could be why you’re getting sick.”
Up until today, Delia would’ve laughed at him for suggesting Artemis was real, let alone this Acontius figure. But Conner was him. That meant he’d seen her last year, and he hadn’t mentioned it at all in the past two weeks? Not to mention that the gods were still alive and well—that was a big detail he’d left out. Her skin cooled, and she felt light-headed.
“This can’t be happening.”
“I’ve always believed they were among us. No one crafts temples for myths. No one has cult followings if they’re not real, but this proves it. Is… is Conner’s name Acontius?” He wetted his lips, leaning forward, a feverish look entering his gaze. “I thought it strange the way he looked at you when you first met. Like a lovesick pup, but if he’s the one… it makes sense.”
“Dad, they are very much real, and they are here.” Delia’s voice wavered as she lifted her hands to her face. “I saw her. I saw Artemis. She had her bow and she… she was so angry.”
Her father leaped from the couch, hands on his head as he paced the room with a newfound energy. He looked torn between excitement and nervousness. How often did someone get to see a god or goddess face to face?
“Tell me everything.”
So she did. She told him of what little she knew, and what had transpired on the beach.
“Oh. That is strange. Artemis only ever took on females in her order. I wonder what made him so special?”
Delia didn’t know; she hadn’t stuck around to find out. She’d run as fast and far away from him as she could get. “I don’t know, Dad. His ability to keep secrets?”
Her father tsked. “Would you have believed him? You can barely believe it now, let alone last week when you didn’t know him.” He looked torn, not that Delia blamed him. Without a doubt, she knew he wanted to console her and also use the moment as a teachable one.
Delia didn’t want a life lesson. She wanted direction.
“And what now? I’m bound to a man I don’t know? Destined to be sick for the rest of my life if I don’t marry him?” She stood from the chair, flinging her hands up over her head in frustration.
It wasn’t fair.
But then, life wasn’t fair.
Her father frowned as he approached her, gripping her biceps. “My dear, all I can say is that in two weeks, I saw a new life enter you. I saw you happier than I’ve ever seen you. Whether that’s due to being here or with him, only you know the answer. Tomorrow, as much as you don’t want to… you’ll need to call him to get answers.”
She didn’t want to. Not after she’d left Acontius without so much as a word. Delia winced as she thought about it. She had said something to him, but it had been, “Don’t say that” when he admitted he loved her.
“I don’t think I can do that.” She shook her head, running her hands over her face. “I… need to go to bed. I’m exhausted after the drive, and I just don’t want to be awake.”
“All right, get some rest.” Her father wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly before kissing her cheek. “We will figure this out.”
Delia wasn’t so sure.
Not bothering to check her phone, Delia changed into her pajamas and settled into bed. Sleep came faster than she thought it would.
* * *
Soft tendrils of light peeked through the window into Delia’s room. It felt as though she’d just fallen asleep, and now the sun was waking her? She groaned and turned her back to the window, but the light grew stronger.
I made a promise that I aim to keep.
A man’s voice rumbled through the room, startling Delia awake. In the corner of her room, a tall, beautiful man unfolded from the chair and strode forward, massive black wings outstretched, reaching each opposite wall.
“It’s time to understand,” he breathed, folding his wings back in as he sat on the bed. “Do not be afraid, Delia.”
And for some odd reason, she wasn’t. A soothing feeling spread through her as his fingers stroked her temple. “Enjoy your dream. I promise to give you rest after this. It’ll be tiring.”
After a soft kiss to her lips, Morpheus pulled away, chuckling.
Perplexed with the direction the dream was taking, Delia sat up, trying to reach for the angel man, but her body collapsed to the bed and her head grew dizzy.
Image after image flashed in her mind. An infant swaddled in cloth. A boy standing before Artemis’ temple. Acontius growing into himself. His truth, his life, flashed before her eyes.
Delia thrashed, not wanting to see anymore, but then she saw herself through his eyes the first time he saw her. It was strange seeing herself look so lonely. She wore a smile, but it was empty. Then she glanced up and saw Acontius. Delia had seen him last year? Why didn’t she remember?
As if her heart weren’t already throbbing enough, the dream allowed her to feel his desolation, his empathy toward her in that moment, and she watched as he decided to write on the apple, sealing their fate. An immense, overwhelming desire to start anew and
truly experience life bloomed within her, but she realized it wasn’t her emotion—it was Acontius’.
By the end of the visions, Delia had been reduced to tears. “Please, no more. Let me wake, please.” But relief wouldn’t come any time soon.
Instead of seeing what had been, Delia saw herself in Florida again, only she wasn’t alone. She sat at the beach, fingers laced with a familiar set of digits. Acontius. In another flash, she saw him again, and he was looking at her with a nervous smile. Another image brought her to her wedding day, and as the point of view changed, she saw Acontius staring down at her.
All of it came crashing to an end, plunging her into a deep darkness. Confusion swept through her, clouding her thoughts, and she knew no more as exhaustion took control, pulling her into a restful slumber.
* * *
Delia startled awake. She fumbled for her phone, half asleep, and lifted it.
No missed calls.
Why would he try to call? She’d given him no reason. But as the screen came into focus, she saw that it was nearly three o’clock in the afternoon. Her father had let her sleep that late? Tossing the covers back, she rushed out of bed and dialed Acontius.
No answer.
She left him a message: “I know we didn’t leave on good terms, but please call me as soon as you can.” She hung up, chewing on her bottom lip as she mentally fussed over last night. Those dreams… That hadn’t been an angel last night, it couldn’t have been. Mentally, she ticked off her knowledge of Greek mythology—or history, since it clearly wasn’t a myth. “Morpheus?” she squeaked. The God of Dreams had visited her? Kissed her, even. “Hey, Dad?” Delia called as she walked into the living area. “Dad?” She frowned when he didn’t answer, but as she walked to the table and saw a note, she sighed.
Pumpkin,
I let you sleep in. The first two attempts to wake you didn’t work. You had a rough night, so I figured you needed sleep.
I’m returning our rental since we leave tomorrow evening for Greece.
Apple of Fate Page 6