Page 113 of Wings of Betrayal

“We should have dealt with Amaros when we had the chance all those years ago.” The wind carries Apollon’s voice, which is only just loud enough to hear.

Atticus walks over to join him, and Kyle and I do the same. We stand together, gazing out across the landscape in a surreal moment. Kyle with his father, and me with mine.

Atticus folds his thick arms across his chest. “Amaros was a sneaky son of a bitch back then, and he still is now. Even if we wanted to deal with him then, we couldn’t have. He betrayed us all.”

I glance up at Atticus. “What did he do?”

He lets out a long breath, and I can already sense it can’t be good.

“We should talk.” He doesn’t wait for my response and instead heads toward the forest.

Kyle cups my face and kisses me softly. “I think that’s a good idea. You need answers that only he can give. Come find me after.”

He releases his magnificent black wings that always take my breath away, and I thank the gods for giving me this male. He winks and then takes off toward the castle.

Apollon releases his but doesn’t leave just yet. “I know I may at times come across as cold, but I am forever thankful you found my son. You are a worthy mate for him, and I welcome you with open arms into our family.”

Wow. That was unexpected.

I swallow the lump forming in my throat, willing myself not to cry, and give him a small nod. “Thank you, Apollon. I appreciate that. I, too, am forever thankful I found Kyle.”

Apollon takes off into the sky, leaving me alone in the field.

I look back to see Atticus waiting for me at the tree line and head over to join him. He doesn’t wait until I reach him and instead moves deeper into the forest. I follow him for about five minutes, neither one of us saying a word, until he stops near a large row of boulders. He releases his wings, swoops up, and lands on the top of one of them.

I do the same and land next to him.

“I am sure you have many questions,” he says as he looks out over the forest.

I absently twist my mother’s ring on my finger as nerves swirl inside me. “I do.”

He glances back at me, his bright-green eyes so different from the various shades of green around the forest. They are exactly the same as mine, just as my mother described in her journal.

“I’m sorry I left you in Galespo like that. I didn’t expect to see you there.”

“Where have you been?” I ask.

He frowns at me as if confused by my question. “I have been in Galespo, for the most part, and other places.”

I bite my lip, unsure whether I’ll get a straight answer out of him, but I have nothing to lose. “No, I mean my whole life. Where have you been?”

A mix of pain and possibly regret crosses his features for a brief moment before he replaces them with the strong, un-fazed version I have come to expect. “I didn’t know. About you. Harlum trapped Serona within Silanthia. When I finally found her, it was too late.”

The memory of Hethenos stabbing my mother comes to the forefront of my mind, and I squeeze my eyes shut as I will it to go away. I don’t want this memory, and I can understand why Amaros took it from me.

“You have another daughter. Did you know that? Her name’s Astelle. Hethenos, her mother, told me. How could you do that to my mother?”

His brows knit together, and he repositions himself, adjusting his sword on his hip holster as if the conversation makes him uncomfortable. “No, I didn’t. Hethenos manipulated me. I was lonely. I couldn’t find Serona, and I craved affection. It meant nothing.”

“So you all knew one another? My mother, Hethenos, Apollon, Amaros, and Zalore?”

He nods then settles down atop the boulder, his legs hanging over the edge. He gestures for me to join him, so I do.

“We did. We were the original gods, along with Stavros, and we forged the Kingdoms. I loved your mother, Zarla. She was my fated mate, and I am sure you can appreciate how important that is. Hethenos and Amaros were jealous, and they manipulated us both. Amaros wanted her to himself. He couldn’t be trusted, and so we banished him from the Kingdom. Until recently, we had no idea where he was.”

That creep. He wanted my mother, too?

“I haven’t seen Amaros for thousands of years,” Atticus continues.

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