The Struggle

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  together. “You appear well rested.”

  “I am.” I rested my hip against the railing. “But I have a feeling you expected that.”

  Her chin inclined as her dark eyes glimmered in the faint morning light. “I did.” She glided forward, and I wondered if her feet even touched the ground. “I sense that you have questions, and I find that knowledge is more easily accepted when the sun has just begun its journey.”

  I arched an eyebrow at that, but she was right. I had questions. Lots of them, and while there was still a part of me that just wanted to give zero fucks, something inside me, something new and strong, refused to allow me to walk away from this—from what I was.

  “I do have questions,” I answered finally, folding my arms across my chest.

  Her smile was oddly relieved. “Ask away.”

  “What are you, exactly?”

  The smile slipped. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re a pure-blood who is a priestess. I get that, but you’re no normal pure. The aether in you is stronger, almost like what I’d feel in an Apollyon,” I explained, easily recalling what it had felt like to be around Alex before and after she’d awakened. “But I was unaware that priestesses still served the gods and I have no idea why the aether is stronger in you than an ordinary pure.”

  “We have been around since the dawn of time serving the gods. Just because they have retreated to Olympus does not mean we stop our service. We are just more . . . quiet in our service now.”

  “You mean, you just don’t sacrifice virgin mortals anymore?”

  Her lip quirked up on one side. “There is that, but those who serve the gods are chosen at birth. The gods we serve mark us all with their icons, and since we are chosen, we are simply more pure. We are more godly, which is how we have more aether in our blood. It has been that way since the beginning and will be that way to the end.”

  I didn’t miss the fact she hadn’t really denied the whole sacrificial virgin question. I probably should check out the temple soon and make sure they weren’t hoarding virgins. Adding that to the to-do list.

  “And you bear the icon of what god exactly?” I asked.

  She tilted her head to the side, and it was pretty impressive that the elaborately coiled hair didn’t topple her right over. “You already know the answer to that.”

  Maybe I did, but I waited.

  Unclasping her hand, she reached up, curling her fingers along the folds of her dress. She pulled it aside, and for a moment, I thought she would expose her breasts, and well, that was going to end this conversation real quick, but she didn’t, thank the worthless gods.

  She exposed only the upper swell of her right breast, and there it was, a rosy-colored birthmark in the shape of the invincibility rune, the same as above the temple.

  A muscle worked in my jaw.

  “It is the mark of the God of Life and Death. The one who is absolute,” she explained, smoothing the sleeve of her dress. “The Appointed God.”

  “That’s a lot of names for one god,” I said dryly. For some reason, a weird memory poked free. It was when Alex had been hauled before the Council under the false pretenses of discussing the daimon attacks her mother had been a part of. The reasoning had been a ruse and Minister Telly, who had been part of a secret group of dickheads hell bent on taking down the Apollyon, had used the stage to try to get her cast into servitude. During the questioning he’d called her something that suddenly raised the hairs on the back of my neck.

  He’d called her the Harbinger of Death.

  Except it had never been Alex any of them had to worry about. It had been me.

  “A god we’ve waited a long, long time for.” She folded her hands together once more. “The prophecy speaking of the Appointed One was written into the void many centuries ago, and for hundreds of years, those born to serve the Appointed One have waited eagerly for their god. Twenty-two years ago, that god was finally born. The prophecy was finally set into motion, and we answered the call to come to Andros. You are the Appointed One, the God of Life and Death.”

  I stared at her for too long. “It sounds unbelievable. It feels unbelievable.”

  “Just like two Apollyons born within the same generation would’ve sounded unbelievable a handful of decades ago, correct?”

  She had a point, but . . .”It doesn’t make sense.”

  The “why me” went unspoken, but it was clearly out there. Why would I be raised to a true god status when there were far better suited people out there? I mean, come on. Even with just the control over akasha, I would go on a smiting spree for the fun of it.

  “There is a lot of information that exists deep within you. All that the Apollyons who came before you have learned exists within you. That knowledge is what enabled you to awaken and become the God Killer.”

  “I get that, but I wasn’t the first God Killer.”

  “Alexandria was, but her fate had also been written, and her destiny was never meant to be yours.” Karina turned, resting small hands on the railing. “She was to destroy the god who sought to embroil the world in war and that was all. Because her creator, Apollo, still existed, he was able to stop her from becoming the true God Killer. She was always to become what she is today, a demigod.”

  “And I was what? The enabler to it all?” Old anger resurfaced. “So, everything I’ve done, I was fated to do?”

  “Yes. Everything you have done, you were supposed to do.”

  Disbelief thundered through me. “No—no way. I can’t believe that. I did horrible things, and if you know me as well as you all claim you do, then you know what I’ve done.”

  “I know what you’ve done.”

  I stepped toward her, arms lowering to my sides. “You’re actually telling me that all of that shit was predestined and that I would become this . . . As what? A reward?”

  “I wouldn’t consider it a reward.” She focused on the ocean. “But it was predestined. You were to be created by Ares and to be used to awaken the true Apollyon—Alexandria. You were destined, along with your friends, to release the Titan Perses, who would then free his brethren. Everything that has happened since then was fated. Even the death of—”

  “Don’t say it,” I warned. “I do not want to hear how watching someone die was meant to be—happened because of my destiny.”

  “Their destinies are only a small part of yours. What happened to them does not mean your fate is responsible.” She lowered her chin. “But everything has been leading up to this, to what you were always destined to be.”

  “A god?” Derision dripped from my tone.

  “Alexandria was meant to be the Apollyon and you were always meant for so much more.” She looked over at me. “That may be hard to accept, but accept you must.”

  “You fucking sound like Yoda,” I muttered.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Nothing.” I sighed, and refocused. “Has this ever happened before? A god randomly created?”

  She patted the railing. “The Olympians were birthed by the Titans. The God Killer was created by the gods as an absolute measure against any one supreme being. When Alexandria awakened, she did so to end Ares’s rule before it could begin. When you were awakened, it was done so to usher in the new age.”

  “The new age?” I laughed harshly. “What the hell does that even mean?”

  She angled her slim body toward mine. “That everything we know is about to end, and a new era will begin.”

  “Well, other than that sounding like a parade I can’t wait to see, it doesn’t really tell me anything.”

  Karina smiled faintly. “That is not important right now. Josie is a part of your—”

  “No,” I cut her off. “She is no longer a part of anything that has to do with me.”

  “Why?” Her brows knitted together. “You fear yourself around her? That you will hurt her? Have you not realized anything? Feeding is—”

  “I do not want to speak of her with you. That is the only warning I will
give you.” My hands closed into fists. “What I do from here has nothing to do with her.”

  “So your desire to seek vengeance against the Titans is driven by some other need?”

  My eyes narrowed. “Careful.”

  She raised a shoulder and then turned back to the ocean. “You are the first,” she said after a moment. “You are the only god to be risen, to be appointed with all the godly abilities. Do you know why the gods fear the God Killer so much? It is not just because you have the ability to kill them, but because you are absolute when only three others are. Zeus, Hera, and Cronus. They feared you, because they knew you could become them.”

  “And what exactly does absolute mean?” I asked. I’d never understood why the gods had created the God Killer in the first place. Apollo had tried to explain it once before in the vaguest terms possible, claiming it was a checks and balance system. Ares had never explained either. It made no sense that they would create something that could ultimately destroy them.

  Then again, the gods seemed to excel in bad life choices.

  And mortals consistently created things that would lead to their ultimate destruction.

  So, hey, what did I know?

  “You have the abilities of the gods, but you wield the ultimate power to destroy a godly being,” she explained patiently. “Since Ares’s destruction, there is no natural end to your beginning. The only true threats to you now are Zeus, Hera, and Cronus.”

  My brows flew up. “Wait. I get that Cronus could take my ass out, but how can Zeus or Hera do it when they weren’t able to when I was the Apollyon?”

  “Because you were the Apollyon. It added some measure of protection for you, but trust me when I say they would’ve found a way to destroy you, because they knew what was possible.” She paused. “They’ve always known.”

  Of course they’d known and failed to mention all this shit. “So I’m guessing they’re absolute?”

  “Only absolute beings can kill absolutely. They could fight you and perhaps they would win,” she said. “But you are the God Killer, the Appointed. They would not be wise to seek to do battle with you.”

  Huh.

  Well, I was more badass than I originally believed.

  “You’re immortal, Kýrios. You are a god.”

  Those words finally, finally sunk through and it hit me then. Thunderstruck, I couldn’t speak. I’d long accepted that I had no future. That once the gods had figured out how to end me, they would, and that my afterlife meant I’d be Hades’s bitch. It wasn’t until I met . . . I met Josie that I ever regretted making the deal that took away any real chance to have a long, happy life. But now?

  I had a future.

  I had an eternity.

  It didn’t matter what deal I’d made. The gods could no longer control my actions or my future. They could no longer control me.

  I shook my head, still bewildered by all of this, but I could no longer deny the truth. “I’m a god.”

  “Yes.” Karina pushed away from the railing and faced me. “And there is so much you need to learn.”

  Chapter 11

  Josie

  I was going to die.

  I was dying.

  Standing among tall elm trees—trees so thick and full that only sporadic streams of light had broken through their bushy limbs—I could feel the life slipping out of me.

  Cool air raised tiny goose bumps along my bare arms. I tried to draw in a breath, but the air went nowhere as I looked down at the beautiful white gown that tickled the tops of my feet—the gown I’d been so happy to wear.

  Blood poured out of my chest, spilling down the front of the gown, ruining it. Pressing shaky hands against my chest, it did nothing to stanch the blood flowing from between my fingers.

  Oh gods, I was going to die.

  My knees gave out, but I didn’t hit the ground. Arms folded around me, easing me down, holding me close. I blinked, trying to focus as I pressed against the warm, hard chest. Amber-colored eyes stared back into mine.

  “Seth,” I whispered. “Don’t let me go.”

  “No.” His face contorted. Tears filled his eyes as he lifted my head, pressing his mouth to my forehead. “I’ll never let you go, Josie. Never.”

  My hands slipped away, falling to the sides. I tried to speak once more, to tell him that I loved him, that I’d always love him, but I couldn’t force the words from my tongue.

  “Josie.” His voice cracked as he rocked us back and forth. “I love you. I love you and I won’t let you go. I will never—”

  Gasping for air, I jerked upright and my eyes flew open. Darkness greeted me, and my body protested at the sudden movement. Every part of me ached—muscles, bones, and skin. Probably even my hair. Everything hurt, but I was alive.

  “It was just a dream,” I whispered hoarsely, gingerly leaning back against the hard, cold wall. “Just a dream . . .”

  But there was something different about it, something too clear and crisp, too real. I could feel the fresh air on my skin, smell the metallic scent of blood, and I heard Seth—felt him against me.

  But he wasn’t here.

  It was like those dreams I had while at the Covenant in South Dakota. The ones that had warned me that he was coming, and the voice had turned out to belong to Atlas, and he had come. They had been . . . prophetic in their tone, and I had the same ache in my temples as I did then. I wondered if they were dreams at all, and if they hadn’t been simple dreams, was the one of me bleeding rivers in a white gown a warning?

  None of that really mattered now.

  Weary, I closed my eyes and pressed my lips together to stop the bitter sob swelling in my throat. Fuzziness clung to my thoughts, and I stilled for several minutes until it passed.

  My throat was dry and my stomach empty. I was so incredibly thirsty and hungry, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a glass of cool water or food that wasn’t stale hamburgers or possibly rotten fries.

  The Titans tended to forget to feed us, and when they did, it was like they purposely found the most disgusting things to eat, but when hunger gnawed at our insides, we didn’t really care what we put in our mouths. We became desperate.

  I was that desperate.

  Opening my eyes, I squinted into the darkness. I was alone again. I hadn’t seen Mitchell in a while, and I had no idea if he was alive or if he was like . . . like that poor girl.

  Before I’d been taken away, the girl had begun to . . . to decompose. The stench had been choking. The female Titan—Tethys—had finally removed the bound demigod’s body and had done so without an ounce of care or respect for her. The Titan had grabbed her by the shoulders and dragged her body out of the room. Dragged her.

  A shudder racked me.

  I was now kept in a smaller room with a packed dirt floor that smelled of roots and mold. There might be mice in here, but I tried not to think about that.

  I tried not to think about a lot of things.

  I had no idea how many days passed since Hyperion had snatched me off the cliffs in Malibu. There’d been at least three, because I had been allowed to spend time in the sun three times when Hyperion had taken me above, and it had felt like days had passed between those times, but I couldn’t be sure other than that there was a pattern emerging to his visits.

  Hyperion would feed.

  Another shudder worked its way through my body as I pulled my legs up to my chest. Sometimes he’d do it like Seth . . . like Seth had done—like when Seth had fed off me and I hadn’t even noticed, but Hyperion made damn sure I knew exactly what he was doing. He’d press his hand into my sternum until the skin bruised, and I’d fight until the pain took over and all I could do was breathe through it.

  It felt like every cell in my body was being scattered and the skin sliced off the muscles with a rusty butter knife, and I couldn’t fight that. No matter how strong or brave I tried to be, the pain was all-consuming, and all I could do was shrink away from it, pray for an end, for the blissful nothingness th
at eventually followed.

  Other times Hyperion . . . he was like a daimon.

  He used his teeth.

  Resting my head on my knees, I folded my arms behind my calves. There was one bite mark along my right wrist, just below the gold