All Hail the King: Modern Greek Gods YA/NA Series (Grace of Gods Book 4)

by Kyleigh Castronaro

  Savannah had Griffin up and functioning once more as he conjured wheels on the bottom of Valentina's coffin. Sensing what was happening, the Olympians moved forward placing their hands on the stone side and wheeling her from the chamber. Even Charlotte took her place in amongst us, her eyes round and fearful as she stared at Valentina.

  Hollow as my glee was, I hoped she saw now the ivory tower in which she believed she stood was crumbling.

  From the throne room, we walked right to the edge of the banks of the river Styx. Griffin paused only to place two gold drachmas on her eyes, staring at her in disbelief and self-torture. We stepped back, giving him room for his grief as he guided her into the water.

  Savannah let out a soft sob, turning herself into me and finally allowing herself a moment of weakness. Her tears soaked my shirt as I watched Griffin bend over his lover's corpse, kiss her forehead and see her off. Her body sunk into the river, claimed by the other spirits that lived within it. A cold darkness settled over our group as we all watched Griffin for guidance of what to do next. But he wasn't capable of it. Not right now as his knees buckled as he let out a sob, falling into the edge of the water almost like he was silently praying for the river to claim him too.

  I imagine if he didn't struggle with the desire to get revenge for his loss he would've taken to the river and been done with it. But like myself, Griffin still believed there was work to be done and until that was completed, our grief and heartache would come second to the revenge burning through our veins.

  But that didn't stop the others from standing there, watching him fall to pieces and waiting for some kind of guidance of what to do next. Griffin would come up with an idea, if only for his own vengeance, but he also needed time to grieve right now. The weight of responsibility wasn't fair to him. I pried Savannah once more from my chest and looked around at my constituents.

  After we set Valentina afloat, everyone needed time to gather themselves.

  Chapter 7

  The mood was solemn as we passed back through the throne room and dispersed to our respective rooms. Savannah paused as we headed for our room, glancing at Griffin who still looked as lost and broken as ever, standing on the dais and staring at the two thrones.

  “Maybe I should…” She looked uncertain as she glanced at me. I shrugged one shoulder and turned back to the hallway.

  “I need to shower anyways.” I still had pieces of Valentina’s ash clinging to my skin and the last thing I needed right now was to have that on my mind. It was bad enough to have seen her in that condition but to have pieces of her attached to me…

  “Alright.” She pressed up on her toes to kiss me before retreating back into the throne room. I didn’t watch her go, directing myself straight into our room. I was relieved to have a chance to be alone and sort through my grief. The weight of needing to be strong was bearing down on me and I couldn’t hold it together for much longer. The last thing I wanted was for anyone, or everyone, to see how shattered I was.

  Fidgeting with the dials, I adjusted the temperature of the water before shucking off my clothes and stepping under the stream. The door was firmly closed behind me and I was now alone. Alone save for the rampant thoughts echoing around in my head, chasing me with memories I couldn’t handle right now. I could still picture her smile, I could hear her laugh, I could see the steel determination alighting her eyes when trouble was near and she had to step up.

  I hadn’t known Valentina for long, but she had touched my heart deeply. Losing her felt like I had lost a part of myself. I teased her, called her Jailbait but it was only because that was how I showed my affections. Sensitivity isn’t my forte. I didn’t grow up in a household where affection was shown and “I Love You” was thrown around. I had lost a lot of girlfriends because of my inability to commit - so they say. It doesn’t come naturally to me and every day Savannah proves to still want to be with me is a damn miracle. But Valentina, in the short amount of time I knew her, crawled into the cavities of my heart and found a way to settle there comfortably.

  I imagine it has something to do with her being my godly daughter. Zeus’ anger and horror at the condition of her frail body overwhelmed me. I wasn’t prepared for the grief we felt. It was debilitating. Trying to hold myself together in front of the pantheon was exhausting. Holding it together in front of Savannah was too much.

  A part of me knew I should’ve been able to confide in her, open my heart a little more and let her in. But that voice - the god damn evil one always ready with a witty comment in the back of my head - reminded me the only reason I felt like this was because I had let Valentina into my heart in the first place.

  I stood there, like a coward, under the hot spray of the shower, bawling my eyes out like I was a baby. I couldn’t erase the image of her curled and burnt body from my eyes, whether open or closed. There she was: her mouth caught open with a scream and blackened beyond recognition. It wasn’t Valentina I wanted to protest but we all knew it was. We could feel the loss amongst our dwindling ranks but also within our souls.

  The anger built again, bubbling inside of me and mingling with the urge to kill Oliver over and over again. My fist collided with the wall, collapsing frail granite tiles in and around my hand. I could feel the stone cutting into my skin while it stitched itself back together. Where the rock dug in deep, the blood flowed out freely but I didn’t mind the pain. I had to feel something other than this grief. I shut the shower off with a click, blindly reaching out for a towel before wrapping myself and stepping out.

  I couldn’t be bothered to dry my hair or my torso as I stood in the cool bathroom, letting the air turn my skin into ripples of bumps. Beyond the steamy reflection of the mirror, I could see myself. Every curve of muscles perfectly chiseled, years of hard work and arrogance evident in their every line. Things that used to be important to me lacked meaning now that I had found my heart, at least that’s what I wanted to believe.

  “Hey, you done now?” Savannah knocked on the door in a way to force it open with her effort, peeking into the steamy room. “Your eyes are red.” A flicker of concern went over her face as she squinted and frowned at me. I wanted to point out her eyes were bloodshot and her face was puffy, but that would go straight to her head and she would think it was the only thing I saw in her.

  “I got shampoo in my eyes,” I said gruffly, running my hand through my hair, shaking out the excess water before awkwardly shouldering my way past her into the bedroom she had commandeered for us when we first got to the Underworld.

  “Right, uh huh.” She walked after me, plopping on the bed with another soft frown. This time I was sure it wasn’t for me so much as her thoughts.

  “Hey,” I cupped her chin, reminding myself I had to be strong for her, “don’t think about it. Not tonight.” I felt myself lean down and kiss her way before my conscience caught up to the action. Her fingers gripped the damp towel hanging low on my waist, pulling me closer in desperation. Losing ourselves in a tangle of flesh would have been one of the ways I dealt with grief three months ago. I felt a pang of guilt and pulled away. She frowned again; that was for me.

  I turned away, despite knowing how she would interpret my actions and scrutinize herself like she was the deeply flawed one of the two of us. I pulled the closet open and stared in it for something to wear. Plenty of options but none of them were appealing. Once dressed, I knew I had to look like a Griffin-wannabe in black trousers and a black button-up. But it was only right, we were in mourning, weren’t we?

  “We need to figure out our next move.” I spoke to her with my back still to her, my eyes still burning in weakness. “The longer we wait to retaliate, the more damage they can do.”

  “Is that what you want? Retaliation?”

  “No, I want justice.” I turned to face her, â€�
�but nothing I decide on will be sufficient. It won’t make Griffin feel better. Or you, or… me.” That was all Savannah needed as she rose and came toward me, brushing her hands along my forearms before reaching and cupping my face. In her, I could see my future and my past. It was bright with hope and belief. If the Titans killed every mortal on Earth, it would never matter because Savannah’s faith in me alone would be enough to power my magic for centuries.

  “You know it’s okay to be sad, right?”

  “A king can’t afford to be sad.”

  “You’re not a king, Aidan.”

  I cocked an eyebrow, almost challenging her, “I’m not?”

  “No, you’re a man.”

  “Thank the Gods, I have you here to keep me grounded.” She smiled but it was fractured, it didn’t reach her eyes and it didn’t light her face.

  “You have me here to keep you whole.”

  I nodded, “You do.” I kissed her again, meaning what I had said even if the voice in the back of my mind reminded me I wasn’t as whole as I liked to pretend to be. I felt her body move against mine, urging for more and I wanted to give it to her. I wanted to give her the world but I couldn’t focus on it because the only thing I wanted to feel right now was pain or satisfaction and Savannah couldn’t give me either of those things right now. I pulled back once more, tried to ignore the hurt on her face and kissed the crown of her head before moving to the door.

  I don’t know when Savannah crossed the room, or how she got into the bathroom before I left but as I pulled the door open and stepped out, I heard her from the shower stall: “Aidan, why is the wall broken?”

  The door closed and I left, disappearing down the hall and back to Griffin’s throne room. I wasn’t sure if the Prince of Darkness himself would be there but if I was going to come up with a plan, I knew he’d want to be involved in it. Differences aside.

  Griffin was right where I left him, sitting on the dais, staring at her throne like he could will her back to life. The only difference now was the line of empty whiskey bottles beside him, keeping him and his demons company. I slipped down beside him, reaching out for the bottle poised on his lips. He let out a grunt of protest as I removed it from his grip, taking a sip for myself. My features twisted in disgust, glancing at the bottle label to find he had conjured the highest proof alcohol he could think of.

  “How’s oblivion working for you?” I held the bottle back out to him, watching him take another deep swig. This time, however, he passed it back to me so I could follow suit. It stung less the second time, but it didn’t taste any better. Not that taste was the thing Griffin was savoring right now. If he was feeling anything like I was, he was chasing numbness.

  Being numb gave us an excuse to not feel the things we did for Valentina. And I hated to admit it but right now I found myself relating to Griffin Kovaleski.

  “Haven’t caught up to it yet.” He emptied the bottle before staring at it long and hard. Before our eyes, it refilled itself with more glistening amber liquid and Griffin sipped again. Did being immortal have an effect on how alcohol affected me? I took another sip, another, and I still wasn’t feeling any less sober than I had been when I first sat down. Taking a deep breath, I chugged, watching the fill line sink lower and lower as I swallowed copious amounts. An average man would be feeling something by now but all the alcohol was doing was driving home the point that I was chasing ghosts.

  As I pried the bottle from my lips the liquid refilled itself for Griffin as he took it back, "Takes a while," he said quietly, swirling the contents around watching them like they were a hurricane. Maybe for him they were, maybe the alcohol was his way of finding the eye of the storm where all the chaos receded and he could hear himself think again. I needed that, desperately.

  "Would she want you to be doing this?" The words slipped out faster with an edge of judgement than I intended for them to do. I was in no place to judge him, after all, chasing my own demons with whiskey. But I knew Valentina had worked hard to sober him up, to save him and all her work was undone in a single night of weakness. Maybe it wasn't so much judgement, but concern. What a strange thought - me concerned for Griffin.

  "Probably not. But I don't give a bloody-" Whatever he was about to say was garbled as he chugged back more alcohol.

  "Me neither," I agreed, summoning my own bottle this time. We could race each other to oblivion and back, maybe there we'd find solace or at least answers.

  "I loved her, you know."

  "I do." That knot in the pit of my stomach returned, this was going to go from drinking in camaraderie to something else and I knew I wasn't equipped for playing therapist. I worried about drinking. If I kept my lips busy, I wouldn't have to speak.

  "When I first woke up in this place, knowing who and what I was, I was sure it was the universe's way of playing a cruel joke on me. Fate was laughing in my face as it reminded me that as a God of Death, I would never be able to be loved or love. And I met Valentina and for a fleeting moment, I doubted myself. I doubted that voice in the back of my head that told me all my life I didn't deserve the kind of happiness she brought me. I've made a lot of mistakes and poor choices, I've struggled against my God instead of working with him but Valentina didn't care. She helped me believe and now I've lost her. What am I supposed to do now? Go on, live in the face of the fact that I don't deserve love and fate was cold enough to give it to me long enough to make me believe before snatching it away? I can live without the intimacy of another person in my bed, but Valentina was much more than that. She was the other half of my soul and now it feels like someone's ripped it away, shattering that other half that belonged to me all along."

  I looked over at him sadly as he spoke, relating more to his words than I ever thought I would. Maybe after all this time the reason I had disliked Griffin was because I saw parts of myself in him and I hated seeing them reflected back at me.

  "I can't tell you how to go on Griffin, I don't think anyone can if you decide you don't want to. But in this place... Especially here, she's not dead. Not entirely. There will always be an echo of her goodness in these walls and you have to decide if you're man enough to live for both of you in the way she would've wanted you to live." That was some deep therapeutic crap that I had no idea where it was coming from. I silenced myself with another deep slug of the alcohol. This time it burned all the way to my stomach and through my veins. Maybe I was numbing finally.

  "I grew up with a father who loved for show. He had a wife, and a son, and a house with a white picket fence. But we were a show for him. You know that generic picture you get in a picture frame when you buy new? That's what we were. Something for him to put on his desk and claim with false pride when clients asked him about himself. But he didn't love us. No... He loved me in a sick, twisted way where he loved having an heir to his family name. But he didn't love me, and the things he didn't love about me, he tried to squash. And he didn't love my mother. I watched her cry herself to sleep for most of my childhood because my father was out sleeping with another woman or two. I swore to myself I would never let myself let someone fall in love with me that deeply that I could hurt them because in the end, the man I hated... I became. I thought I didn't deserve Savannah's love either because I believed deep down inside I was going to hurt her and crush her soul the way my father did my mother's. I tried to push her away and save her from me, but she persisted. The way Valentina persisted for you. Because Griffin, at the end of the day. We all deserve love. We all deserve someone who is going to fight for us and never give up." I clapped him on the shoulder as I stood with a sway, "Valentina deserves someone who is going to fight for her and never give up. Don't you forget."

  He stared at me, his brow furrowed as he considered what I was saying to him. I hoped it made sense; it made sense to me. It made me realize what
I had been doing to Savannah all over again. Pushing her away. I needed to tell her and apologize. I couldn't be selfish that I took her down in my own commiseration.

  I turned to leave the throne room, stopping and staring at the woman hovering in the threshold, a broken smile on her lips but her eyes glowing with love. She'd heard every word. I swallowed hard and walked to her, cupping her face as I looked at her.

  "I'm never going to give up on you Aidan, no matter how many times you screw up and think you don't deserve me or I don't deserve you. I'm not going to give up." I nodded, leaning down and kissing her softly. It was a chaste kiss, merely a brush of lips as our foreheads pressed together and I closed my eyes. Telling her how I was feeling was on the tip of my tongue. But opening that flood gate I feared would wash out many dark secrets I still wasn't ready to tell.

  She deserved to know but I couldn't allow myself to be vulnerable. It was a petty fear, but one that ruled over me with an iron fist. She might not give up on me now while I still held it together but if I fell apart in her hands and showed her how deep my insecurities ran, would she still be here or would she realize the mess she had chosen as her own?

  No, I needed to be strong and perfect for us both. I couldn't put that kind of heavy weight on her knowing she would crumble under the slightest pressures and doubt. I kissed her again and drew back.

  "We need to come up with a plan, let's call everyone together again and we'll get started." Savannah read my mind, perhaps spurred on by my passionate speech to Griffin. Valentina wouldn't want us to grieve her, she would want us to fight and save the things she loved as much as we loved her - us. Basking in our own self-pity wasn't going to stop Asher from whatever smug plan he was enacting. He had taken our home and now it was time to get it back.