Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“Let us go to Olympus then, my Lord,” Hecate says easily. “Why ever did it take you so long to ask?”
Demeter
“We will discuss it,” Zeus argues with a hiss. His arm rests on his throne as if he is exhausted by my questions. The gray sky darkens more until it’s lit with flashes of irritation. As if the sky above admits he’s at his very limit and can take no more. As if the daughter we share and what he did to her is of no importance. “You must have patience, Demeter.”
"I have had patience. I waited for her to return, just as you wished. And what does she say?” My heart rages inside of me. She is a piece of my soul. She is mine to protect and provide for.
He closes his eyes. My disgust and anger trembles the ground beneath my feet although I try to contain it. It is impossible to reign in grief. It is poison. One all will know the taste of.
“She says that she wishes for me to let her go to the Underworld. Live in the Underworld. How am I to dwell here for eternity, knowing she is as good as dead!”
“Then perhaps, Demeter—”
“Do not say I should let her! Do not say I should allow this to happen! What standing do you have to say such a thing to me when you do not offer consequences for those who took her? It is because you aided such deception and you know it!” My throat is hoarse from my screams and accusations. Even with the tremors beneath us, he is unmoved.
Zeus looks out at the light beyond the throne hall and considers the skyline as if it might give him answers. When has the sky ever done that? It is always Zeus, alone in his rooms or with whatever nymph is in his bed, who decides whether the sun will rise and set.
Zeus is a god with so much power that he has forgotten what it means to exist with others. He is only concerned with making all the realms bend to his ego, with no threats to his power. Every god who exists has their own magic, and within it the possibility of having more power than any other. It merely depends on the time and situation.
I’m just as much of a fool as anyone else who has gone to his bed. I thought our daughter would be the exception.
I thought Zeus would have seen the gift she is and understood that she has always been more concerned with the mortals who pray to her. Persephone did not want his throne. She is not like Athena, a strategist of war. She is brave and beautiful in her own way, but she was not a threat, he turned her into one. He forced her into that role. This is his fault! There’s nothing but frustration in ruling over other gods, who fight and plot against each other, and who will do so for all eternity. Gods never change their ways!
And here is Zeus, sitting on his throne, the same as he ever was, telling me to be patient. Telling me to let her go.
It would be safer for him, no doubt. It would make him feel more comfortable if his daughter wasn’t here to remind him that she still exists and now she’s more powerful than he could have ever known she’d be. All his doing. Irony is a lost art form.
“Do you have an answer?” I demand, stalking closer to his throne. My fingers stretch before me and then ball into a fist as I walk forward. It’s an attempt to keep the magic at bay. To ease the build-up of agony so it may not burst into rage and disaster. “What standing do you have? Who are you to make this decision for her? For me?”
“I am—”
“It does not matter what you say!” I cut him off in a hiss. “You have no standing! There’s no one in any realm who would agree that you have the right to betray me and your daughter as you have!”
“I am god of the gods, and I have done wrong,” he says and his voice is barely raised. He glanced at me, sullen, playing with his beard like he has only just discovered it is there. “I only weakened—”
“And what was the point? What was the goal? It wasn’t only to weaken her! It was to send her to the Underworld dead—”
“The mortal realm, first,” Zeus corrects. Rage heats my blood. How dare he! Was I to say goodbye to her, powerless as she aged in my arms? The very idea forces my throat to close and my shoulders to hunch in sorrow.
“The mortal realm!” I shout at him. I’ve long lost any desire to be composed. The last months have taken from me any pride I ever owned. “You wished to send her to the mortal realm. Who was to be next? Me? What other gods do you fear so much that you must sneak poison into the wine?”