Page 75 of The Shadow Gods

“Get it out of his hand!” Paris pushed past me, trying to knock it free, but I stopped him.

“This is their fight,” I said, and this was how she was making her point. Without us.

Achilles stopped the van and shut it off. He and Orestes both turned in their seats, staring at the two of them. Neither of them blinked or made a noise.

“He hasn't seen it,” Paris whispered. “It's too much.”

It.Poseidon's attack on Medusa. Paris had seen something, that much was clear, and we'd all seen a little bit of her life. Unlike Hector, I knew Medusa and Leo were different versions of the same person. Though I wanted to protect her, I knew if I did, I was taking her out of a fight she wanted to be a part of. I knew she deserved to be a part of it. I just cared more about her life than I did her fight. And maybe that was what had driven Hector to utter those careless words, but Leo wasn't going to let them stand. She was going to show Hector how wrong he was.

Leo

“Kneel.”

In the presence of a god, I had to obey. I knelt by Athena's altar while offering up a prayer.Help me, goddess.

“Beautiful girl.” Warm fingers trailed under my chin, lifting my face to his. He studied me, pushed his hand through my hair. Holding out a lock, he gently placed it on my shoulder, patting it into place.

I stared at the god. His eyes were bright blue flames that burned through the darkness and saw right through me. He glanced down at my body, and I shivered.

Wrong.

Everything about this was wrong. The part of me wanting to survive screamed commands at me.

Run.

I tried. Clawing the ground to give myself purchase, I tried to escape, but he was so fast. In seconds, he had me beneath him, and those warm fingers that had been so gentle tore at my clothes. I screamed for Athena, begged the goddess to intervene, but no one helped me.

Something clattered to the ground, and I turned my head to the bright flash of metal next to me.

A trident.

I knew this god. Poseidon. God of the seas.

“Let me go.”

He pushed against my shoulders and seemed to grow heavier. I could smell the sea on his skin and taste it when he pressed his lips to mine.

“Let me go.”

I fought and he grew angry. Everything hurt. He wasn't kind or careful. I cried for Athena. I cried for my sisters, and finally, I cried out to every goddess in the pantheon. Artemis. Hera. Aphrodite. They were women. Surely, they would stop this.

But they didn't.

In those moments, I stopped being a daughter. A priestess. A woman. Medusa. I forgot who I was and became a toy at the mercy of a god who cared nothing for me.

After, when I was alone, I still cried for Athena. I sought strength from her. So, when soft hands, a woman's hands, touched my head, I thought I would be protected.

It wasn't like that. Not at all.

With a cry, I came back to myself. Hector had me in his arms, loose so I could escape if I wanted to.

“I'm sorry.” He repeated it over and over. His hands shook as he held me, and I got the sense he didn't know where to place them.

Breathing in, I grounded myself. I was okay. It was a memory. I was surrounded by people I cared about. I was okay.

Pollux held the shard of the seal in his hands. His dark brows were drawn together, and his green eyes were sad. He didn't approve of what I'd done—it was written all over his face. Achilles and Orestes had left their places in the front of the van and now stood by the open door. Behind them, the shore of Italy receded into the distance. I could smell the sea and exhaust. Gulls cried overhead, their shrieks loud enough to penetrate the voices of people around us and the engines of the ferry.

“I'm sorry.” Hector pressed his lips to my hair then ripped himself away. He held his hands out. “Can I touch you?”

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