To protect their reign, the demigods would crush her the first chance they got.
“We amass energy during our lives that can’t pass into the aether. Only the demigods are strong enough to contain the extra boost without being destroyed by it. If it’s not collected, it’s absorbed into the earth, and causes a spike in natural disasters—earthquakes, hurricanes, forest fires, tornadoes, even triggering volcanoes.”
“That makes no sense. The soldiers die all the time and not once has anything happened.” But her protest was without conviction, doubts plaguing her pretty face. Though she tried to hide it, he knew she felt the impact when that soldier died. She probably just didn’t notice it before now.
“Maybe because they hadn’t fully come into their abilities when they died, they escaped the same fate as daemons,” he suggested, curious if it was true.
“They’re not daemons.” Keegan spoke while he drove, easily steering them through traffic. “When the old gods vanished, their power exploded out over the universe, waiting to be called. The demigods absorbed a lot, but the rest is just waiting in the aether. When a daemon matures, their bloodlines dictate the abilities they receive. It’s a circle of life. When we die, the energy goes back into the aether to wait for the next warrior.”
Nikos remembered coming into his abilities.
He thought it would be glorious.
No one told him about the pain or the years of brutal training he had to endure or the virtual slavery. While it might be necessary to whore himself out to his benefactor, that didn’t mean he didn’t agree with Octavia. The practice was barbaric. While some demigods worked for the betterment of their people, most wanted more power and often bickered over territories.
“If that’s true, then what happened the night Eldon died?” Octavia’s question drew him out of his ruminations, and he plastered a vacant smile on his face.
“Whatever do you mean?” He leaned forward and gave her his most innocent look. Warrick had decided it’d be best not to tell her what actually happened. If she didn’t know, then no one could question her about it.
Nikos didn’t agree with the decision, but it wasn’t like he got a say in the matter.
He’d known Warrick for more than a century. The man rescued him when he thought all was lost. Though the asshole wasn’t always right, he’d earned Nikos’s respect over the years.
Octavia scowled, and something in the vicinity of his chest twinged. He reached out to touch her when Atticus growled, the man more feral than human as he tried to contain his wolf.
But Octavia was quicker, she grabbed his wrists to stop him from pulling away.
Images of the night Eldon died bombarded him.
The way fire erupted out of the old hunter, then seemed to consume her. He watched again as she went up in flames, her clothes falling off in tatters, her skin darkening as it burned. He tried to rescue her, frantically calling water from the air to douse the flames. Unfortunately, it turned to steam before it reached her. Nothing he or the others did worked. He watched in horror, waiting for the flames to melt her flesh.
Instead, the inferno was sucked inward. Her eyes glowed bright and ash flaked off her naked body, her skin iridescent, light shimmering across her like she’d been forged into something stronger.
The honking of a horn jerked him back to the present, and he became aware of Octavia gaping at him, her face pale, her eyes wide in shock.
She knew.
Somehow she’d peered inside his head and plucked the images out of his mind. “What happened to me that night?”
Chapter Eleven
The silence in the vehicle was deafening, and her heart fluttered in panic when no one would meet her eyes. Her stomach bottomed out, and she was afraid she’d be sick. “What the hell happened when Eldon died?”
She couldn’t get over the nauseating suspicion that she had something to do with his death.
Octavia swallowed hard, then turned to face Atticus, knowing he wouldn’t lie to her. “Tell me.”
Before he could answer, Warrick turned and peered back at her between the seats. While his face didn’t show any discomfort, the way he cupped his ribs indicated he’d been hurt much worse than she thought.
“We’ve been working under the assumption that Eldon didn’t take the Pythia Stone, but what if we’re wrong?”
The rest of the guys protested, but Octavia kept her mouth shut. Warrick never once took his gaze from hers, as if waiting for her to come to the same conclusion. “He wouldn’t take it unless he thought he was protecting it.”
The vehicle quieted like someone turned the volume off, the guys gaping at her, but none of them protested her conclusion. Keegan glanced between her and Warrick, then cursed.
“Eldon never did anything without a purpose.” Warrick’s cool blue eyes were shaded gray as he assessed her with more than just his sight.
Octavia reared back as the implications slammed into her. “No! He wouldn’t allow himself to die just to pass the stone to me.”
“When was the last time you saw Eldon?” Warrick’s question was barely a whisper, as if to soften a blow.
“It’s been…a while.” The truth felt like he reached into her chest and ripped out her heart. Her throat was raw as she tried to speak. “He knew the next time he saw me he would die.”
Warrick turned back around in his seat with a grunt. He didn’t offer any condemnation.
He didn’t blame her.
It didn’t matter.
She blamed herself enough for the both of them.
“But why?” Nikos leaned forward between the seats, his expression troubled.
“He came into contact with the Pythia Stone and saw the coming war,” Octavia murmured.
“But why take it?” Nikos protested. “Why not just tell the pantheon?”
“What if they’re part of the problem?” As soon as they left the confines of the city, Keegan picked up speed until they were flying on the nearly deserted roads.
“He’s been disappearing more and more the past few months,” Atticus reminded everyone. “What if he was trying to figure out a way to stop the war by altering the present?”
“It didn’t work, or he would’ve returned the stone.” Nikos flung himself back in his seat.
“He was shown different futures.” Warrick was grim as he met her gaze in the side mirror. “He knew there was an option to stop the war, a dangerous, last-ditch effort. It meant he would have to die—he just wasn’t sure it would work. So he did what he could do to hedge his bet and gave us the best option for survival—her.”
“You can’t be fucking serious?” Octavia shook her head, her hand on the door, ready to bolt at the speculation in Warrick’s pale blue eyes. “I’m the least capable person to stop a war. Hell, I couldn’t even manage to keep him alive. How am I supposed to save a whole race?”
Her insides churned at the magnitude of what Eldon thrust on to her. She was a nobody picked up off the streets. She didn’t have the training or the skills to avert a whole damned war.
Fuck if she could even keep herself out of trouble for a whole day.
“Eldon believed in you.” Warrick refused to back down. “The stone chose you for a reason. You weren’t just convenient, or the nearest person, or the most skilled, yet it chose you. Eldon believed in you. He believed you could do this. Whether you want it or not, you’re our only hope for the future.”
“You’re wrong. I received no stone.” Octavia sputtered, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to form a coherent thought other than they were completely nuts. “There is absolutely no stone here.”
Nikos turned and gave her a speculative look, his brown eyes nearly black when they widened with understanding. “Eldon…that sneaky, stupid bastard.”
It was all Octavia could do not to lunge across the space separating them and demand answers. She fucking hated being left in the dark. Too many secrets had destroyed her life time and again. No more. She went over every second of
the fight and couldn’t recall him giving her anything or even mentioning the stone.
She came up blank.
“Explain.” She fingered the knife in her boot, her hand twitching with the need to draw blood.
Sorrow darkened Nikos face. “The Pythia Stone was named after the first Oracle of Delphi. It was said that she communicated with the gods. When the gods disappeared, the priestesses disbanded…if you can call it that. Most of the women were hunted. Some were killed, while others were captured and chained. It was said that the main priestess, Pythia, was never found. Just a single stone was left behind.”
“You think she is the stone.” Octavia couldn’t hide her skepticism, but what the hell did she know about gods—other than the fact that they were crazy insane and best to be avoided at all costs?
“Or the source of her power…what was left of her after they killed her.” Keegan shrugged when she turned her eyes to him. “When the gods vanished, the world drowned in chaos. No one knows what really happened.”
Octavia leaned back in her seat with a sigh, wondering how this got to be her life.
She was a soldier, trained from her earliest memories to fight.
She knew nothing of their world except that it would eventually get her killed.
“Listen, I know you want to believe he gave me this rock, but if that was his intent, he died before he could hand it over.”
The guys remained silent, not the I-agree-with-you silent, more of the oh-didn’t-I-tell-you silent that was going to come back and bite her on the ass. Tension made her muscles ache from holding herself in check. “What aren’t you telling me?”
If she had to ask one more fucking time, she was going to draw blood.
Atticus leaned forward, crowding her space, his bright green eyes lowered, almost submissive, but she didn’t believe it. His beast was too alpha to be meek. She’d almost swear she could feel the brush of fur against her mind, as if the beast wanted to comfort her.
“Lass…Eldon was the stone.”
“Come again?” She stared at him blankly, like he was speaking some foreign language. “I don’t understand.”
“What don’t you understand?” Warrick huffed, clearly annoyed at having to explain things to her like she was an idiot.
It was all she could do not to lean forward and smack him. She must have started to lift her hand to follow through with her thoughts when Atticus tugged on her sleeve and gave a slight shake of his head.
She gritted her teeth and glared at the back of Warrick’s head. “Explain. All of it. Stop giving me just bits and pieces.”
Keegan flipped the blinker, his eyes unfocused as he recalled information from the recesses of his brain. “No one is allowed to touch the stones but the pantheon. Only the demigods are strong enough to funnel enough energy into one to see the future.”
“Then how did—” Her voice cracked, and Octavia closed her eyes when tears stung them. “What happened when Eldon touched the stone?”
“The stone chose him to be the next Pythia.” Keegan spoke softly. “Unfortunately, his body wasn’t meant to hold that much concentrated energy. Touching the stone was a death sentence…and yet he did it anyway.”
She should feel better knowing he made this choice for himself, but she didn’t.
He should never have died in the first place.
He should’ve called her for help.
They could’ve found a way to fix things.
She couldn’t get over the feeling that he knew the risks and took the stone for her.
Then the implications of what they were saying slammed into her, and her heart thumped painfully against her ribs. “What happened to the stone when he died?”
Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say—
“I believe the stone chose you as the next Pythia. If you weren’t worthy, the stone would’ve burned you up.” Warrick avoided everyone’s eyes. “We need to figure out if you’re strong enough to wield the stone or if your time on the earth is limited. If you die, then our timetable for the end of the world will have just moved up.”
Octavia collapsed back into her seat, her chest hollowed out. It took a few seconds for her brain to process the enormity of everything, and she glanced up, her mind blank, unable to comprehend anything beyond the big question. “Why pick me?”
It made absolutely no sense.
“Eldon couldn’t have known whether the stone would kill me or not.”
Keegan’s brows rose and he gazed at her over his shoulder before he resumed driving. “Are you sure? We’re talking about a stone that lets a person see the future. He would never have risked your life if there were any other options. You can fight it all you want, but like it or not, you’re either our only hope for the future or the final nail in our coffins.”
Well, shit.
She closed her mouth with a snap, because he was right…and she didn’t like it. “Surely there were better people out there for the task. Maybe it’s my job to find out who’s supposed to be the true Pythia?”
“You’re grasping at straws.” Nikos snorted, his expression cynical. “Those who are strong enough to hold the stone are the last ones who should be in charge of it.”
“Except you,” Atticus murmured, shifting in his seat, only seeming to settle when his leg brushed against hers. “While others would take the opportunity to use the stone for their own benefit, you want to get rid of it. Which is exactly why you’re the best—and only—choice.”
Octavia frowned at him. “There is no way you could know that.”
His eyebrows rose, nearly disappearing in his curly mop of hair. “You flinched when you learned you hold the stone. Instead of asking how to use it, you’re asking how to get rid of it.”
She couldn’t help rolling her eyes. “I would use the stone in a heartbeat if I thought it would stop Kronos, but I know how these things work. It’s a trap. Everything touched by the gods is cursed. If the stone was that easy to use, Eldon would’ve done it to stop the war. If I use the stone, I die...hell, maybe I die either way…I just can’t afford to pay the cost to find out.”
Warrick grunted in agreement, while the other three looked skeptical.
They were right to be doubtful—she lied. Having the ability to see the future was pure temptation. If she only had to worry about herself, she would pay whatever price was needed to stop Kronos, but life was never that simple.
While she wanted nothing to do with the gods and their mess, she shuddered at what would happen if Kronos ever learned about the stone.
They would no longer simply kill her.
They wouldn’t risk losing control of that power.
Bonus points for hosting a soul-sucking stone.
No, they would try to rip her apart to figure out how it worked. Only when they could find a way to take the stone from her would she be allowed to die.
She pulled the sleeves of her jacket over her hands to hide their trembling and crossed her arms defensively. “What happens when your pantheon discovers the truth?”
Silence reigned in the vehicle, and her stomach somersaulted up into her throat. “Let me guess…the only way to extract the stone is death.”
Atticus bristled at the comment, but it was Keegan who answered. “I don’t know. I can do some checking, but it’ll take time. The last thing we need is for someone to get suspicious.”
The vehicle began to slow, and Octavia leaned forward to peer out the windshield. The compound was nothing like she expected. The three-story granite monstrosity stood out in the middle of nowhere, the surrounding trees doing nothing to mask its presence.
The windows were blackened, resembling a large puddle of darkness waiting to suck in the unwary. Metal walls at least ten feet tall were wrapped around the entire property, signs posted every few feet warning that the walls were electrified. As they drove closer, she couldn’t get over the feeling that the walls were more to keep people in rather than out.
Tension in the vehicle ratchet
ed up when they slowed to a stop by the guardhouse.
Not wanting to draw attention to herself, Octavia leaned back into her seat, blending into the shadow cast by Atticus’s bulk. Without saying anything, he leaned forward, offering her more cover.
He growled low in his throat, as if sensing her unease. “Warrick—”
“This is the only way to keep her safe.”
She snorted at the absurdity. “You’re using me as bait. Let me go. I can protect myself.”
To say that she didn’t trust Warrick was an understatement. While he might want to honor his promise to Eldon, the stone changed everything. It was too valuable to let her keep it.
“No.” Warrick gave her a disdainful glare. “Until we know what’s happening, consider us your own personal bodyguards.”
“You mean until you can figure out how to retrieve the stone.” She couldn’t help but snort at his pigheadedness. She turned away from them. While they might have started off wanting to help her, not anymore.
Not that she could blame them. If Eldon was right, war was coming, and she might be the only one who could stop it.
No pressure.
She just needed to remember the men weren’t her friends, or even allies—they were her jailers. Their concern about the stone didn’t mean they gave a rat’s ass about her ability to survive what was coming.
Chapter Twelve
Keegan
Anxiety tightened Keegan’s chest when the gates closed behind their truck, as if his ribs were squeezing his lungs. Silence rang in his ears, and he struggled to keep his breathing even and his heart rate from raging out of control.
He had vowed never to return to this place. Since the men were all predators at the top of their game, saying the compound was an exercise in survival of the fittest was an understatement.
Out of the thirty teenagers in his group, fewer than a handful survived the trials. He’d switched benefactors exactly once, and went from barely surviving to a living hell. While some demigods took care of their daemons, they were rare and very selective in their choices.
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