Page 102 of The Shadow Gods

Paris approached the altar. “All power has limits. It's not an endless well to draw from.” Kneeling next to the seal, he picked up the piece I'd held and dropped it back into place.

Steel scraping against steel was the only warning I had before Athena held a knife to my throat. “You don't know what you're doing,” she said, voice rough. “Do you think I'm the only one the gods will punish?”

With her focus on Paris, her grip on me loosened. Inching my hands up, I used her distraction to grab the knife. The sharp metal cut into my skin as I let my weight fall, but I would heal. The second my butt hit the ground, I rolled. A strong hand wrapped around my arm, dragging me back. Slick skin pressed against my cheek as Hector held me against him.

Athena screeched, so loud and long the walls trembled.

“Now what?” Achilles asked. “Goddess of strategy, you must have a plan.”

She stared at each of us, features twisting with an emotion beyond rage and fear. It was terrifying, yet oddly pathetic. “You'll kill us all. You'll send us to a place where no god, no mortal, can ever return.”

“Like the place Zeus sent my brother?” Pollux asked.

Athena scoffed. “Do you really care about him? How many times has Castor crossed your mind? You care more about that girl than you do him.”

Blood dripped from my throat and jaw onto Hector's skin as she spoke. The quiet patter was rhythmic and measured, like a clock ticking away.

Pollux stared at Athena. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. “I think about him every day.”

“Then you're a better sibling than I have ever been,” Athena retorted, “because centuries passed between thoughts of my brother. If I could put Apollo somewhere he could never escape, I would.”

“That would have solved your problem,” I said. It came out just a whisper. My throat was swollen and scratchy. “Aren't you powerful enough? You brought all of us here.”

Her gaze went from Pollux to me. With her attention on me, Paris removed something from his pocket. I saw only a dull black object before he fit the fifth and final piece of the seal into place.

Hector's body jerked, like a live wire had been shoved against his skin. He let out a gasp as his body twitched, curling around me in a move half protective and half instinctive.

“Hector.” His full weight was on me, pushing me down to my knees. Around me, the others tried to hold themselves upright, but like Hector, struggled.

“Run.” He grunted as my knees hit the ground, and he tumbled out of my arms. Gaze on mine, teeth clenched together, he said it again, “Run.”

“No.”

It was as simple as that. If this was the end, if Paris was wrong and putting the seal together didn't return their full power to them, but brought the world to ruin, then that was how I went out. But I was with them—forever. Infinity.

I didn't know what Athena was doing, and I didn't care. Everything except the men I loved was background noise.

“Idiots.” Athena grabbed me, pushing me away from Hector, and I turned on her.

Up to this point, all my resistance to her had been academic. Now, I rounded on her like a wounded animal. I wasn't a fighter, but I drew my arm back and punched her with as much power as I could muster. My fist shattered against her face, but my knuckles split her cheek right down to the bone.

Athena forgot about the men and launched herself at me, so I took the full brunt of her against my chest. We hit the ground in a tangle of limbs and wings and armor. Punching, grabbing, slapping—I wanted to hurt her.

And, somehow, I did.

She landed some good ones, too. Her skills were way better than mine. This was the goddess of war, and when the shock of my attack wore off, all I could do was protect myself.

The kick to my stomach knocked the air out of me, but it was the crack of my ribs breaking, the sound so loud I thought it came from outside, that ended me.

Athena felt it—the second I couldn't fight, when my body wouldn't obey my commands—and she smiled.

Lying on my back, trying to take a breath that didn't cause shooting pain, I stared at the goddess.

No one could deny how beautiful she was. Even with the rapidly healing wound on her cheek and her hair a mess, she was lit from within. Her skin glowed, even covered with dirt and dust. She was a goddess, and while I might be something else, I was more human than anything.

And I was dying.

Funny how I knew.

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