Page 218 of The Delta's Rogue
Wesley releases us first, backing up and crossing his arms. Maddie mimics his posture. Her facial muscles tremble with the tears she can’t stem, and she gazes at the lake.
I wipe at my face with the back of my hand and tuck Sarina into my side. I need something to hold. To anchor me. To prevent the world from disappearing beneath my feet.
Everything hurts, and everything is wrong. I never imagined a world where my dad wasn’t here. Where he wouldn’t be here for the most important moments of my life. A world where he only got to meet one of his grandchildren.
“His body,” I blurt out. “Dad’s body… We can’t just—”
“Reid and Nolan are taking him to the hospital,” Wes says. “I’m sure Mom will want to say goodbye before…”
Before they cremate him. As is Crescent Lake custom for their alphas.
“We all will,” I agree.
I stare at the log at the forest’s edge, where Dominic stood before he took his last breath, and my heart breaks further. There isn’t a body for Savvy to say goodbye to. Dominic was finally able to be a bigger part of her life, and now she’ll never know her other dad.
“When do you want to have their funerals?” I ask through the tightness in my throat to distract myself from the too depressing thoughts swirling in my brain.
“After we take care of Zeus,” Wes says. “They would want us to finish this before we truly mourn them.”
“But how are we going to take out Zeus?” Sarina asks. “We can’t kill him. He’sZeus.”
“I haven’t been to Olympus in a very long time.” Selene strolls up to us, lightning bolts in hand and vengeance in her eyes. “I think it’s time I returned.”
Olympus. The city ofthe gods.
It used to be my home but hasn’t been that in a long time. Not since I lost Asteria. I’ve not visited for longer than a meal since then, and I haven’t returned at all since I gave birth to Haven in the mortal realm.
The city sprawls in every direction. There are buildings and homes of every shape and size, all crafted from the glowing white clouds surrounding the realm. But none are as massive or imposing as the building in the center of it all.
Zeus’s palace.
It rises from the center of the city, jutting high into the heavens. Floor upon floor of rooms, every inch furnished with the finest trappings and outfitted with the latest cutting-edge technological developments from the mortal realm.
Zeus may have punished Prometheus for giving the mortals fire, kick-starting their love for and pursuit of knowledge and the next greatest thing. But Zeus enjoys the comforts the humans’ advanced technologies provide too much to stick to his supposed moral high ground.
It’s all too gaudy, too ostentatious, for my tastes. I prefer my tranquil, simplistic home in the moon realm to the bustling, noisy Olympus and the complexities of navigating its residents and their politics.
That’s why I stay away. That’s why I gave up my home in the city and my designated room in the palace. So I’d have no reason to return unless absolutely necessary.
I didn’t even return to ask Zeus’s permission to give Haven a gift. I don’t know why I told her I did. I made that choice—to give her a gift—on my own. I suppose it felt like more of a grand gesture: “Look what I did! I went to the king of the gods himself and begged him to make an exception for you.”
And then I made it worse. In addition to the gift she chose instead of immortality, I gave her another gift, and then I avoided her for four years. By the time I realized my mistake, by the time I understood that what my daughter wanted more than anything was for me to choose her, it was too late. I’d told my lie, and taking it back would do nothing.
I can’t take back the lie, I can’t take back the years of avoidance, and I can’t take back the aura she never wanted. But I can be there for her now. I can be the mother I should have been to her from the start—loving, present, protective.
Selfless.
I know one day’s worth of selflessness does not make up for twenty-five years of selfishness. But I am trying, and that’s all I can do.
Sighing, I turn away from the window. The guest room given to me today is small—much smaller than the suite I used to occupy. It’s all one room, with only a privacy screen separating the bathing area from the bedroom and sitting area.
The sitting area isn’t truly a separate space either. It’s just a velvet chaise, set a few paces away from the foot of the massive bed and equal paces back from a small fireplace. The large balcony and the expertly placed windows provide extra light and create the illusion of more space, but the room itself is small. Comfortable and sumptuous, but small.
The luxurious padded carpet caresses my bare feet as I cross to the chaise. I pour myself a glass of ambrosia from the pitcher on the tiny table beside it. The sweet liquid coats my tongue and soothes my throat on the way down. It warms me from the inside out and grants me a boost of confidence for what I need to do next.
Head to dinner. Find Zeus. Get him alone, and—
“Selene.”
