Heart on Fire

by Amanda Bouchet

  Everyone stops where they are. My eyes dart around. No weapons are drawn. No one is shouting. It looks like we’re standing around for a friendly chat when that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Betrayal and heartache reign here.

  I wrap my arm around Kaia’s waist, laying claim to her in any way I can. “Thanos. I mean, Ares. You can’t take her. Please don’t take her.” He’s one of the only people I’ve ever pleaded with, mostly for inconsequential things. A child’s whims. Other times, I asked him to not retaliate against someone who’d hurt me, although he never offered to punish my mother, who hurt me most of all. “Can’t you just waive the rule? Not take someone this time?”

  He finally lifts his gaze from Kaia, and the look he levels on me is somber to the core of his power-charged eyes.

  My stomach sinking, I swallow all pride for my new family, for Kaia, and beg. “Please? For me?”

  Griffin lays his hand on the back of my neck. He squeezes my nape, his arm sheltering Kaia between us. I grip her waist, grounding her to me. Kaia raises her chin and stares straight ahead.

  “You think she can’t handle war?” Ares asks. “Traveling the worlds with me, she would see many novel things.”

  Or she might die in her first battle and see nothing but blood.

  I look again at Kaia. She has intelligence, courage, and a warrior’s soul, and with a little training, likely a warrior’s skills. She’s long and lithe and strong. I’ve always thought Jocasta was a little softer and more prudent than Kaia, and yet Jocasta threw herself into the Agon Games and participated in a hostile takeover of the Tarvan throne. Jocasta acquitted herself more than well, with honor and bravery, surviving against all odds. I have no reason to think Kaia couldn’t follow the same path as her older sister. In fact, I think she’d do it better.

  “I think she can,” I answer honestly. “But I don’t want her to.”

  Ares’s solemn gaze returns to Kaia again. He cocks his head. “I think you’re right.”

  My heart clenches hard, and I can’t move. I can only stare in horror and disbelief. Did he just miss the part about my not wanting her to go to war and be lost to us forever? I begged.

  A small bleat leaks from Kaia, like the cry of a frightened lamb. It’s heartbreaking and fills me with dread.

  Griffin moves so fast I can’t stop him. One minute he’s beside us both, and the next, he’s right in front of Kaia. “Try to take her, and you’ll have to go through me.”

  Oh Gods. He means that.

  “No!” I shout just as Ares sends Griffin flying away from us with a simple swipe of his God-powerful hand. I run to him, dragging Kaia with me. Griffin gets up again quickly, reaching for his sword.

  “No, don’t!” I step into his path, trying to block him. “You’ll just make things worse.” I’ve seen Thanos—Ares—when he’s threatened. He’s never scared, and he can be cruel.

  Griffin slams his half-drawn blade back into its sheath. His face thunderous, he stalks forward, forcing us both into a stumbling retreat. “He can’t have Kaia. I won’t let him.”

  I let go of Kaia to hold up both hands. “He’s not a man. He’s a God. You can’t defy him without incurring the wrath of Olympus, and you can’t win.”

  Griffin glances down at me, his jaw hardening to marble. His eyes are stark and as dark as the storm clouds brewing on the horizon. I see the exact moment he decides to disregard my warning, and I push hard, putting my whole weight against him.

  I don’t even slow him down. Even counting Little Bean, we don’t weigh half of what Griffin does.

  Words tumble from my mouth. Anything to stop him. “Your immunity to harmful magic doesn’t extend to the Gods. Remember how Selena—Persephone—yanked out your life force to heal Carver? Now that mystery is solved, and Ares could probably do the same. Or take you.”

  “Then so be it.”

  So be it? So be it! “He’ll kill you!”

  Griffin looks over my head rather than at me. “I can’t choose myself over Kaia. What kind of brother would I be?”

  The kind like Piers? Fear scrapes down my spine. I could lose Griffin. Oh Gods, I could.

  Griffin lowers his voice. “Maybe a fight will satisfy him. Besides, I’m…vital to whatever is going on with you.”

  “You’re vital to me.” My heart twists sharply. I’m not sure Griffin’s reasoning is sound. “But I’m here. Alive. With an heir…”

  A tiny muscle contracts under Griffin’s eye.

  Sudden tears spike my lashes just as Griffin looks down. He winces, clearly hating my pain. Our pain. He grips my upper arms, squeezing hard and looking at me with all the passion and devotion a woman could ever hope for. I wait for him to pull me into his arms. His eyes fill with longing.

  He lifts me up and sets me out of his path. Gasping, I whirl around and see Griffin take the final few steps to confront Ares.

  “Fight me for her,” Griffin demands. “If I can’t best you, then it’s me you’ll take.”

  My heart forgets to beat. Griffin’s sword arm flexes and lifts. He slides his blade from its sheath and then shifts his weight into a fighting stance. He looks like a force of nature. To me, he is one. Strong and brave and an earthquake in my world. But Ares is a God. One of the twelve Olympians!

  Ares leaves all his weapons in his belt. His arms swing loosely at his sides. “You did well,” he tells Persephone, completely ignoring Griffin’s challenge. “They’re a good match.”

  She scoffs. “Of course they’re a good match. But it would have been nice if one of you males had told me you’d finally decided to point him in Cat’s direction. I thought she’d been kidnapped. Or run away.”

  I blink. I had been kidnapped. Griffin did it.

  “She had to figure things out on her own. Couldn’t have you influencing her,” Ares responds with a shrug.

  “Oh, no.” Persephone’s sarcastic mock sincerity rivals my own. “Only you can do that.”

  Ares preens, just to goad her, and Persephone looks like she’s about to attack. Ribbons of power race in circles around her dark-blue irises, brightening them from within.

  She glares at the other God, her eyes terrifying. “She was impressionable when she was with you. Thank the Goddesses she had her sister to teach her compassion.”

  My pulse speeds up at the mention of Eleni. My dead sister. Not my unborn daughter. A tight, hard lump lodges in my throat, and I feel my blood drumming against it. Eleni taught me to love. And protect.

  “Thank the Gods she had me to teach her how to survive,” Ares shoots back.

  He taught me to fight. And kill.

  “Oh, I think her mother helped her with that.” Persephone’s tone turns biting. She looks at me, her eyes twin pools of radiant blue light. “Trial by fire.”

  “It forges a heart of iron,” I whisper, echoing my words to Flynn when we argued about Jocasta taking part in the Agon Games.

  She nods, her gaze still holding mine. “And sets it alight.”

  I inhale sharply. I’m not sure what that means, and I can’t process riddles right now. My husband might get beaten and taken from me. And if not him, then Kaia. I can’t think about anything else. I can’t even think about that.

  I reach for Griffin, but he shakes his head. “Stay back, Cat. They’re your responsibility now.”

  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 achin
g 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.

  Sculptors throughout the ages have really gotten her likeness right, although no inanimate slab of marble could ever truly do her justice. She’s everything I expect and more—the long, straight nose, the intelligent eyes, the tight, reddish-brown curls framing her oval face. She wears her warrior’s helmet, with its proud crest, and carries her spear and shield.

  I stare in undisguised awe. She’s not beautiful, but she’s breathtaking and bold.

  Ares’s voice tightens with annoyance. “We’re handling this, Athena.”

  She slides a chilling look toward the God of War. “I’m sure you are. In your usual fashion.”

  “He’s actually been surprisingly tolerable so far,” Persephone says. “I’m sure it won’t last.”

  Athena arches one dark eyebrow. “Persephone.” She greets the other Goddess with cool neutrality.

  “Athena.” Persephone uses the same tone to greet her back. Not friendly. Not unfriendly. It’s hard to tell where they stand.

  Athena turns to us, and I can’t help the explosion of nerves that erupts in my belly. Griffin must be feeling the same thing, only a hundred times stronger. This is his Goddess, the one he worships above all others. He was attached enough to her—or to the idea of her—to haul a marble statue all the way north to Castle Sinta from his own tribal lands in the south and then place it in the main courtyard at the castle entrance. He and his soldiers kiss their fingertips and then touch them to her sandaled feet each time they pass the statue, leaving her toes polished and smooth by their daily devotion.

  “Catalia Fisa. You are surprisingly entertaining.” Athena smiles, not exactly warmly, but I’m not sure the Goddess does warmth
. “One never knows if you’ll live or die.”

  Lovely.

  “And you…” Her eyes land on Griffin. They’re large and an odd chestnut color, brown with hints of red and gold. The power in them is immense. She looks him up and down in a rather proprietary manner I don’t like at all, as if she has some claim to him.

  Griffin flushes under her blatant perusal, and a hot stab of jealousy pierces my chest.

  Athena nods, seeming to approve of what she sees. “You are just how we planned.”

  Griffin finally blinks. “Planned?”

  I frown. Good question.

  “Oh, yes. We had a long talk with the Fates.” Athena keeps looking at Griffin, a secret sort of smile spreading across her face. She leans in, something conspiratorial in her suddenly hush-hush manner. “Some things shouldn’t be left entirely up to chance. The new Origin needed a partner she couldn’t intimidate, dominate, or accidentally kill.” Athena straightens again and then shrugs strong, almost masculine shoulders, her expression still animated by subtle delight. “Otherwise, she’d have walked all over you.”

  Griffin’s face goes abruptly blank. He looks shaken.

  Oh, no, no, no, no, no. I don’t like this at all, even though it actually makes a lot of sense. Griffin has given me everything—a family, a kingdom, leadership, his heart, his body. I was the one thing that was his. Made for him. Meant for him. Or that’s what he’s always believed. Now Athena is saying that even this—us—was all about me?

  No wonder Griffin has lost his awe-struck expression. He’s not actually looking at anyone anymore. Not at me. Not at Athena. He doesn’t say a word.

  “What are you doing here?” Ares demands.

  Athena takes another moment to gaze intently at Griffin, as if trying to deconstruct him with her eyes. Then she turns to Ares so quickly that her spear whistles through the air. Ares watches the weapon with a hint of suspicion, widening his stance. Athena eyes him with bored antipathy.

  “I figured you’d muck something up and need my help. As it turns out, you only nearly broke the Origin’s heart and sent her baby into hysterics, made her husband choose between staying with his wife and child and sealing a death sentence for his youngest sister, and scared a little girl half out of her wits.” With a sharp downward thrust, Athena plants the blunt end of her spear eight inches into the ground, cracking the hard earth in every direction. She slowly claps, wearing irony like a crown. “Well done.”