Jennifer Armentrout - Apollyon

Maybe, if it didn’t feel like my body had been shattered into a million pieces, I could really appreciate that statement. The jasmine-scented air stirred, and two more shadows fell over the spot where I lay… in the grass, I realized dumbly. My entire back felt wet and I wasn’t hopeful enough to think that it was dew instead of my own blood… or someone else’s. No. It couldn’t be someone else’s, because that would mean that Aiden or Marcus…

Apollo came into focus, and instead of showing off those creepy god peepers, he stared down at me with eyes that matched the sky over his shoulder. A small, almost-sad smile tugged at his lips, which I found so strange since it was rare that Apollo showed any real emotion.

“There was no way I could heal you in the mortal realm. The damage is too extensive,” he said, and for the first time, he cut right to the chase. “I had to bring you here, as close to Olympus as possible. All the aether surrounding my home will help Asclepius.”

I wanted to ask about Aiden and Marcus, but when I finally managed to open my mouth, only the smallest whimper leaked out.

“Don’t try to talk,” Apollo said. He leaned back, making room for another god. “My son is going to heal you.” A wry grin twisted his lips. “And I know if you could, you’d say something like ‘how many kids do you have?’ and my answer would be ‘many’.”

Yeah, I was kind of curious, and I also wondered if it meant that Asclepius was related to me, but what I really wanted to know was what had happened to Aiden and Marcus.

Asclepius took the place of Thanatos. This god barely resembled Apollo. A full beard covered his face, making it difficult to gauge his age, but the fine lines spreading out from the corners of his white eyes made him look much older than his father. My eyes moved to Apollo, and I was comforted to find that he was still there. He hadn’t left me with Thanatos and a stranger.

Finally, Apollo took pity on me. “The last I saw of Aiden and Marcus, they were fine. But I haven’t been back since I brought you here.”

I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. It wasn’t a hundred percent confirmation that they were okay, but it was something that I could hold onto.

“Do you know the story of my son?” Apollo asked.

When I did nothing, Asclepius laughed. “He loves to tell this story.”

“His mortal mother died during childbirth, and while she was on the funeral pyre, I cut him from the womb.” As Apollo spoke, his son eyed the numerous injuries with a mixed look of disgust and challenge. “I gave him to the centaur Chiron, who raised him in the art of medicine. Of course, having my genes, he already had a knack for healing.”

Of course.

“But my sister had asked Asclepius to bring Hippolytus back to life, and between Hades being pissed off about that, and Aphrodite’s whining, Zeus killed my son with a thunderbolt.” A muscle popped out in Apollo’s jaw. “So I killed Cyclopes, ensuring that Zeus would have no more thunderbolts.”

Oookay…

“I ended up banned from Olympus for a year,” Apollo continued blithely, “but in the end, Zeus resurrected my son to ensure there would be no future feuds with me.” He paused. “You’re wondering what the moral of this story is? I always find a way to take care of my own.”

Before I could process what that meant, his son placed his hands on my chest. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have been thrilled with the idea of being felt up, but incredible warmth swept through me. From the tips of my aching toes to the top of my fractured skull, dizzying, wonderful warmth invaded every pore.

The god closed his eyes. “This may sting.”

What? No, I wanted to scream, because I couldn’t take anymore, but then the warmth blistered my skin and I did scream.

Fire raged through me, spreading out of control and searing every cell. My broken body reared off the ground.

Asclepius’ face blurred into a severe frown. “There’s something else here….”

For the second time in however many minutes, I was pulled into the void, lost in a black sea of nothingness.

When I opened my eyes, my vision was clear and I’d been moved into a circular chamber with marble walls. Birds shrilled in a soft, lyrical verse from somewhere outside the room. Atable sat in the middle of a raised dais. Resting atop the table was a pitcher full of honey-colored liquid. Heavy, scented air flowed through a small opening in the wall, stirring the white canopy hanging from the posts at the foot of the bed I rested in.

Abed? Obviously it was a step up from lying in grass, but confusion pinged at me. I pushed up onto my elbows and winced as an ache rolled through my entire body.

I’d been healed, but…

Memories pieced back together, of Thanatos, Apollo and his son.

Holy crap, I was in—or near—Olympus.

Never in my life did I think I’d breathe the aether-enriched air of the gods, but here I was. A low hum of excitement trilled in my veins. I wanted to race off the bed and investigate. Olympus was rumored to be the most beautiful place in existence, even more so than the Elysian Fields. Creatures of myths roamed freely here, and plants that no longer flourished in the mortal realm grew to staggering heights in Olympus. This was a once-in-a-life…

The excitement gave way to unrest. I wasn’t here for sightseeing. It wasn’t like I was on vacation and Apollo would pop in and give me a tour along with keepsake mouse ears. This wasn’t Disney World, and I was here because Ares…

In the back of my mind, and in the center of my very being, there was a dark and ugly thing that had been born and taken root, a distinct coldness that no amount of warm air could quell. My thoughts swung to Ares and my heart turned heavy. Raw terror formed in the back of my throat, tasting like bile.

But, oh gods, it wasn’t just Ares, or the thought of facing him again. It was the pain that had festered and rotted me, the pain that had shattered me into pieces and caused me to beg for release—for death. Even though I had never spoken the words aloud, I knew that Ares had felt it. It had been in my eyes; my very soul had been laid bare.

Ares knew.

Seth knew.

Shame and something dark rose inside me, twisting and choking like a vile weed.

I’d begged for death.

Me. Alex. The all-powerful Apollyon. The girl who got knocked down only to jump back up and ask for more. I’d been training to be a Sentinel, a warrior bred to disregard fear. I’d known pain before this, both physically and mentally. I’d even come to expect it.

But Ares had broken me wide open.

A raw vulnerability inched through me. Feeling sick, I tugged the soft blanket up to my chest. Gods, I felt… I felt like a poser in my own skin. What would Aiden think if he found out? He would never have begged or given up like I had—oh gods, what if Aiden really wasn’t okay? What if Apollo had lied?

I started to throw the blanket off, but stopped. Indecision smacked into me. What was I doing? Where was I going to go to demand answers? My hand tightened around the blanket until I thought I was going to undo Asclepius’ hard work.

I couldn’t move.

I was frozen by… by what? Fear. Distress. Shame. Confusion. Anxiety. A hundred or so emotions whirled through me like an F-5 tornado. My breath sawed in and out painfully. Pressure blossomed out of nowhere, clamping down on my still-tender chest. This was worse than how I’d felt after Gatlinburg, magnified by a million.

I couldn’t breathe.

Images of the fight in the dean’s office flipped through my head like a twisted photo album. The maneuvers that always had been too late. The kicks and punches that’d never landed. Being picked up and thrown like I was nothing more than a sack of rice. The breaking of my spine and every bone thereafter and then the knife…