“I remembered something too. That wasn’t your first kill. We’ve done that before…” he shouted, as the distance grew between us and my patience was thinning.
No shit.
I, Zeus’s play-thing, was constantly doing what no one else would, like killing, and finding Arianna every time she disappeared and wiggled her way out from under his thumb.
At least someone other than fucking Caellum was remembering.
The field was already lit up, and the stands were filling in like this was planned. The energy was ringing in the air as I walked out of vision, finding the door to the locker room, before pulling it open with so much force I almost hoped I injured myself.
I had better things to do tonight than tame Nyx and Austin from taking everything out on the other team.
Opening my locker felt routine. I was on autopilot, moving without trying, when I started to get ready. I didn’t even see Nyx out of the corner of my eye when he barked behind me. “How many times, Bolton? How many times did we do that? How many times did I take the heat for your actions?”
He was remembering more.
Moments were triggering both of their memories to coming back tenfold.
“I didn’t need anyone to take any heat for me, so relax. I had Zeus’s blessing in everything I did for the gods!”
The locker room was full, and everyone could hear us, but neither of us cared. We wanted to fight it out until gold poured from countless wounds.
He was my best friend, here and in Olympus, and nothing was going to change that—not how much blood was on my hands or Arianna’s love. Until he remembered that part, we were perpetually stuck in this hatred.
“Did you ever think the gods were… oh, I don’t know… wrong? Maybe this is hell, and we’re being punished for all the shit we did!”
His fist plowed through the locked lockers and the puncture of it cracked over my eardrums painfully. I forced myself not to flinch. I had no relay powers, no way to protect myself. I only had my flagrant disregard for their abilities.
That always threw powerful people off—nonbelievers.
“Speaking ill of the dead, now? Is that how much you want your memories to be wrong? No one forced you to balance sex and death; it’s who you are.”
The locker room seemed quiet as we argued; there wasn’t even the sound of anyone moving around or gear being picked through. It made both of us halt our words, letting them push against our teeth to keep them inside.
We both looked around at everyone moving around, getting ready, only we couldn’t hear anything, and apparently they couldn’t hear us. We were yelling and arguing and damn near blows. No one was cheering us on or videoing it for whatever fucking social media app they preferred.
“What’s going on…?” It wasn’t a question; it was an accusation meant for whoever was behind this trick.
I was in the clear. Demigods didn’t have power… not like this.
“Jasper! Knock it off!” Nyx shouted at nothing.
Jasper swiveled around a row of lockers, with his beanie covering most of his ink-colored hair, only a few strays stuck out at the edges. His brown eyes were mostly yellow; the gold accents were taking over dominance and the brown became the background. He looked unassuming, uninterested, and cocky at all times.
“You’re welcome, your majesty.” Everything to come out of his mouth was sarcasm.
How did Arianna’s own sarcasm not seek him out first? Together they could kill the entire population with a smile and sarcastic remark.
“You can’t just use, Jasper…” I pushed past Nyx and his moral dilemma. I had problems that only a gold ring and crown could fix.
Crime and punishment.
He moved a hand gracefully through the air, like he needed to direct the abilities he had. “You could say thank you next time I save your asses.”
We weren’t Hogwarts students, vampires, or witches; we were gods. No wand needed.
I shoved a flat palm into his shoulder, making it clear there were rules to using now that Arianna was acting as a catalyst, I said, “Does it look I need saving, Jasper? Stay out of this.”
Her being at Arcadia Prep alone shifted the air and gave everyone a boost in their abilities—ones we forgot existed, because she’d been missing so long this last time.
“You aren’t the only one who can help, Bolton. Zeus made you king, but I don’t have to bow.”
He pushed off the lockers, pushing his back towards me, and the sounds around us swelled up all at once, like the sound was up all the way and you forgot when you pushed play.
Jasper was pushing my last nerve; everyone was, by suddenly questioning my authority.
Nyx whisper-shouted to himself a simple, “What the fuck?”
My ears were still adjusting to the white noise that went missing, and it was surprising I even heard him. He didn’t need an answer, and I didn’t have one anyways.
Austin tried to lighten the mood by bringing up the Harvest Dance, while we geared up. “I’m gonna ask Kate after the game, so let’s try not to lose this one. I don’t want a pity yes.”
“She’s your fucking girlfriend; she’s not going to say no, bro.”
Kate was deemed a queen, not my queen, by the student body for being full of demands and for her bubbly voice that acted as a double-edged sword. She wore pink and her voice bubbled with friendliness, but nothing about Kate was friendly.
Everyone assumed we were together, king and queen; it made sense. Austin worked very hard to make sure people knew they were together, with his public displays, like the one he was describing happening after the game.
It was tradition to ask someone to the Harvest Dance in some over-the-top way.
I never took part in it; no one was worth me going to some ridiculous lengths. Arianna was worth it, but I was pretty sure she wasn’t talking to me now.
I snapped back into the conversation instead of thinking of my betrothed, who didn’t want anything to do with me now.
“I think I’m gonna ask Luna. She deserves it…” Nyx’s voice was still unsure.
Peace offering? Trying to avoid feelings for Arianna? Pity on Luna’s big heart being destroyed by the truth?
Coach’s larger-than-life voice rang through the room: “Let’s go! What do I got, a bunch of girls on the team? Hurry up!”
I grabbed my helmet and headed for the door. I wanted this game to be over with, this day, this nightmare… this curse.
The lights were on high, illuminating the field, every blade of grass and imperfection in high definition detail. I was captain. I had to lead this team with some kind of motivation, or I might as well throw myself on the bench and let this end in a quick loss. I waved the team over to huddle up, throwing my helmet on the ground and crushing it under my foot.
What was I supposed to tell the faces looking back at me? What kind of king doesn’t have the perfect words before heading into battle?
Arianna’s words kept repeating in my head: Powerless. Powerless. Powerless.
I had never felt like more of a fraud than at her hand, her words. Her absence didn’t break me as much as her hate-fueled words.
Without realizing it, I went from looking up at the grey sky to my eyeline falling to the sidelines, looking for her purple hair. My queen had ruined me in a way I wasn’t shrugging off. One look… that’s all I needed. One second of our eyes locking, and I would see Fate at work.