Page 109 of A Veil of Gods and Kings

Pools of water lined the sides of the throne room, and they trickled as fish splashed around them, the sound echoing through the silence of the space. Tension bled from me, and it seemed to seep into Temi and Hyacinth and his siblings who all stood with tight postures and pinched lips, gazes staring ahead at the looming doors at the entrance.

An attendant stepped in and bowed. “Lord Ares, Your Highness.”

Hyacinth squared his shoulders, his eyes sharpening.

And Ares walked into the room, his veil fully removed. The luminescence of a god radiated off of him, the silver light glowing hot and slicing into the space, sulphurous smoke curled around his ankles and permeated the air with its sharp smell. His feet thundered with each step. He stood the height of a man and a half and wore a bronze breastplate and a rippling burgundy cape that swept past his shoulders, holding the reminder of battle fields dripping in blood. A long curved weapon peaked behind his back like a halo of destruction.

“My lord.” Hyacinth bowed. “It’s an honor to have you here.”

Ares snarled, his eyes shimmering like flames licking shadows. “I am not here for an audience with you, mortal. If you care for the wellbeing of your city, keep that in mind.”

Hyacinth nodded, his jaw clenching.

And heat burned within me, alive and consuming. How dare he treat Hyacinth like that. “If you’re here to speak with me, brother,” I growled, “then let’s do that.”

Ares paused for a moment, his eyes narrowed to slits. “Very good.”

I stormed out of the room, avoiding Temi’s frowns, Emrin’s wary, bright expression, Epiphany’s trembling, and most of all the resolute shield of Hyacinth’s, the careful neutrality. But his fingers had curled into his palm, fidgeting against a ring there.

And a ferocity I’d never felt grew within me like a cloud of smoke from a fire. I’d tear the world down before he had to stand afraid in front of another fucking god like that. Ares had followed me, and I didn’t meet his gaze until we’d made it out of the palace and stopped beneath the rippling velvet of the night sky.

I turned on him, my words coming with heat, like I could breathe fire and scorch him. “What the hell are you doing?”

Ares pulled back his powers, and he stood at my height again, his dark eyes heavy and shadowed. “Perhaps I should ask you the same question.”

“What do you mean by that?” I gestured to him. “What’s with the theatrics? Showing up like you’re about to burn their city to the ground? That’s not you, is it?”

He made a sound in the back of his throat. “You know well”—he spoke each word carefully, the consonants heavy as though he bit on them—“that’s not me.”

A wind brushed through emerald leaves of bushes, their crackling combining with the chittering of the crickets. “So, Father asked you to show up implying war. Why?”

“It’s a warning and a reminder.”

“A warning? Of what?”

“He sent you here for two purposes. Do you remember?”

I shook my head, frustration fluttering through me like hailstones, banging into my nerves, but then I lifted my face up to him. “He’s not happy with their offerings?”

“So he says.” Ares turned away from me, his shoulders hunched. A sigh drifted out of him like his spirit went with it. “You need to be careful, Apollo.”

“Of what? Ending up a puppet of our father’s to terrorize others?”

He winced. “That’s petty of you, but fair, so I’ll let it go. I’m aware that I’m a pawn for him. I know you have all these noble ideas and beliefs.” He looked over his shoulder and such a haunted expression spread over his features, it ached into me. “Perhaps you won’t end up like me. But you understand why I make the choices I do.”

“This can’t be the only path.”

He shifted his feet, and the gravel beneath them crunched. “It is my prophecy and fate. I’ll never be a well-remembered god. Those that speak my name in the future will recall destruction, fear, death.” His voice hitched, but he shook his head and continued. “But all that said, I don’t regret it. And if you aren’t careful, you’ll find yourself in the same position I’m in. That’s what I’m warning you about.” He pressed his fingers against his chest. “From me, this time, not Father.”

“What do you mean?”

He scoffed. “You know I can sense the hearts of mortals, Apollo. What is going on between you and the prince?”

“I…” But words wouldn’t come. “It’s just for the summer. I’ll ascend soon. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“For you perhaps.” A dark expression snaked up on him, heavy and weighted. “Have you forgotten how desperate our father is to keep you from forming an attachment to a human? From making the same mistakes I’ve made? What ends he will take to stop that from happening?”

I bowed my head. “I have not,” I whispered.