Page 10 of A Veil of Gods and Kings

Do I understand that your endless hunger for power and authority is the only reason you haven’t killed me yet?

Yes, father, I understand perfectly.

I nodded.

He ran his hand along his beard. The scowl he wore seemed carved into his features, like a stone bust. “If I could choose any other god for your role, I wouldn’t hesitate. As it is, I’m stuck with you—a stubborn idiot of a child. It shouldn’t surprise me with who your mother was.” I bristled, my shoulders rolling back, but he didn’t even look at me. “A more arrogant, self-righteous mortal I never met.”

He flicked his gaze to mine, pinning me with a look. “Let me make this situation clear to you, Apollo. You will ascend within the next year, or I will destroy everything you’ve ever touched. That damned village of yours you cling to like a child with a filthy blanket, any gods who’ve ever spared you a drop of compassion, and that silly, mortal sister of yours.”

I sucked in a breath. “You cannot hurt Temi. She’s vowed to me.”

He smiled, his eyes taking on a glint. He stepped in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper like the early winds of a hurricane, and goosebumps rose on my skin. “I cannot kill her. But, I can make her brief life one of misery. That I assure you. The only reason I haven’t done so yet is that Poseidon has stayed my hand. But, my patience runs thin. I will do everything but end her life. I will make her pray to the gods for death. Do you understand me?”

I swallowed. My muscles trembled. “I do.”

He inclined his head sharply and drew back from me. “You will spend the year with a mentor. Someone who knows how to obey his father and take up the mantle of leadership.”

“Who?” His eyes flashed at me speaking, and I cringed. Which of my siblings would I have to tolerate for the next year? I wasn’t lucky enough for it to be Ares.

“Prince Hyacinth of the kingdom of Niria.”

My mouth popped open, the pain of it swelling and spreading to my temple. “A mortal?”

A smile slipped up on his features, his eyes sharpening. “Yes. A mortal who behaves more like a deity than you’ve ever done. Someone who knows how to follow his father’s bidding. And it will serve two purposes. You can also report to me about their devotion. Their sacrifices are adequate but only so.”

I couldn’t help my nose wrinkling.

Hyacinth. Fucking great. I’d rather spend the year with Heracles.

“You’re miserable about the idea. Good.” Father’s eyes darkened. “You will not spend any more time coddling your ridiculous mortal life. You won’t continue to avoid your fate. In the next year, you will ascend, or I will crush your village”—he paused for a heartbeat—“slowly. I will make the people there suffer, Apollo. Do you hear me?”

I nodded. The little girl with her basket swept into my mind. Smoke from ghosts of my past filled my sinuses, and a crawling sensation trailed under my skin.

He skimmed his eyes over me like someone who assessed a dying animal. Is it even worth it to save this one? He sighed. “You hate the idea? Then ascend. You can skip the entire year. What’s your choice?”

I fiddled with the edge of my tunic. “I need more time, yet. So, I’ll go to Hyacinth.”

Father frowned but nodded. “Very well. Now get out of my sight. The day of your ascension is the next time I want to see you.”

I don’t wish to see you again ever.

I bobbed my head once and turned, walking back through the throne room. The gods’ conversations hushed as I stepped in. Their eyes swept over me again. And damn my mortal blood that allowed the red mark along my face to shine like a badge of shame. I held my chin high and avoided meeting their gazes as I strode out to the stairs and descended them with clattering steps.

Tears stung at me. I flared my nose and sucked in a breath, attempting to fight them, but they came anyway, streaking my cheeks. I brushed my arm over them, and it ached the injured side so much my vision blacked for a moment.

As I turned a corner, Zephyrus, with his ivory wings, eased off a wall and walked in front of me, his lip curling as he scanned over me. “Did Daddy call you, so he could take out some of his frustrations on his least favored child?” He made a noise in the back of his throat. “God of the sun? More like the god of inadequacy.”

“Oh yes,” I growled. “That’s really going to hurt my feelings coming from a fucking wind god.”

He smirked. “It seems that your father already hurt your feelings for me. Want a tissue?”

“Are you not in the throne room because Zeus is now making the low gods wait on the stairs like common nymphs?”

His eyes narrowed. “Watch yourself, Apollo. The wind goes everywhere. You never know when your words might come back to haunt you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I sucked in a breath and kept moving. Not towards the dining hall. That was the last damn thing I needed—for all my siblings to see me exactly as they imagined me—weak, foolish, disfavored.

I turned a corner and bumped into someone else. Damn it. Ares turned around, and he skimmed his eyes over my face and sighed. “I’ve been waiting for you.”