Chapter 1

Eight years since I was cast out of Olympus, and Ares finally found me — here, at the wind-scoured edge of the mortal realm.

He found me looking wrecked, surrounded by eight children.

"Thena…" His voice cracked. His eyes went red at the rims. "Weren't you the one who despised children? The one who swore she'd stand at Father's right hand and counsel the gods?"

I was chewing dried bark. Without a word, I reached into the mud and hauled two filthy children out by the backs of their tunics, then turned and called the rest of them home.

Aphrodite stepped into my path, tears catching the light, voice breaking.

"Sister. It was Ares himself who convinced Father and Mother to drug you. Apollo switched the bridal chariot — Aphrodite rode away in yours, saffron-veiled and unrecognized, while you were sent in hers."

Apollo stood at her side, her hand loosely held in his, expression unreadable.

He was waiting, perfectly still, for me to erupt in fury.

Ares's tone turned cold.

"The mortal was rough, yes — but he looked after Aphrodite when she had nowhere to go. He was decent enough. You endured some hardship. Don't make a spectacle of yourself."

Eight years ago, Aphrodite had returned to Zeus's halls on Olympus to reclaim her birthright as the true daughter.

She told everyone I — the false daughter — had barred her from the gates.

These eight years were the lesson they decided I needed to learn.

"Sister." Aphrodite's smile was patient, almost gentle. "The man is dead now. We've come to bring you home. But these children are low-born — you cannot take them with you. They've caused you nothing but suffering. So let's simply kill them."

I looked up, startled.

Kill them.

All of them.

I glanced around. The girl swinging from the branch overhead was the only daughter of Poseidon, Lord of the Deep. The one glaring at Aphrodite like she wanted to draw blood was Harmonia, daughter of Hephaestus, the great Forge-God. The two boys wrestling each other over a cricket cage were Castor and Pollux, the twins blessed by God.

"You must be so relieved to finally be rid of them."

Aphrodite saw me react and smiled wider, dabbing prettily at her eyes.

Behind her, Apollo's guards closed their circle around me and the eight children. Swords came up.

I pulled the farthest child into my arms and let out a slow breath.

This one, above all, could not be harmed.

Poseidon had carried his bloodline through five generations without a daughter. This girl was the miracle his entire household had prayed for across lifetimes. Every member of Poseidon's domain was a gloriously unstoppable force — not one of them safe to cross.

"What — you'd rather they live?" Apollo's eyes were arctic, the cold radiating off him like a drawn blade. "Thena. Do you truly intend to drag eight strays back to Olympus with you?"

I moved fast and pressed my hand over Harmonia's mouth before she could open it.

That girl's tongue could flay stone.

"Is Sister ashamed?" Aphrodite tilted her head, eyes soft with performed sympathy. "Apollo holds no grudge about your history. Once you come home with us, he's willing to receive you into his sanctuary."

The tone was charity. She delivered it like a gift from the Fates themselves.

"I'm not going back."

All of them stared.

Ares's face went hard. His voice dropped to a cutting snarl.

"You pull faces at Aphrodite the moment you see her. Have you forgotten every lesson Father's house ever taught you?"

I had forgotten more than lessons.

I had forgotten the night the snow fell thick and white, and Ares walked away through it with Aphrodite sheltered against his side, never once looking back.

I had forgotten how Aphrodite crushed my betrothal token under her heel while Apollo watched — and felt nothing.

Eight years was more than enough to set all of it down.

"Go ahead, then." Apollo smiled, slow and cruel. "Thena. Don't tell me you've grown fond of playing the grieving widow. Addicted to suffering among mortals?"

He looked at the children the way a god looks at something fouling his path.

"None of them are mine," I said flatly. "You cannot touch them. And you would be wise not to try."

God of Light or not — had he not noticed that not one of these children was the slightest bit afraid of him? They were simply ignoring him, wrapped up in their own games and quarrels.

"You won't even claim them, yet you'd die to protect them?" Apollo let out a cold laugh and drew his silver bow in one motion, levelling it at the smallest child. "I cannot try?"

Something lurched in my chest.

I lunged to block — and Ares's hand cracked across my face, hard enough that my ears rang and sparks burst behind my eyes.

"I thought you'd been forced into this life. Now I see you chose it willingly. You disgrace everything Father's house stands for."

The sound of the slap rang out sharp and clear. Every child went still.

The ringing in my ears settled into a low hum. I drew a slow breath. Something deep and heavy sank inside me.

"Apollo." My voice came out steady. "Look at this child. Does he not seem familiar? He is your royal kinsman's son — blood of Olympus."

Oktos had moved fast — but not fast enough. The arrow had grazed his arm. A long, clean cut opened along the skin. Blood welled and dripped.

He ran into my arms crying, his face drained white.

I pulled the divine seal-token from his waist and held it high.

"Look carefully."

The mark of Olympian blood.

Aphrodite's eyes went wide with something that looked almost like fear.

Apollo raised his bow again. "My kinsman has no children."

"You can't even recognize your own cousin, and they made you Zeus's heir?" Harmonia's face scrunched with withering contempt. She thrust out the Forge-Seal — the divine sigil her father Hephaestus had crafted. "My father is the Forge-God of Olympus. If you want to kill someone — come for me."

This time, Aphrodite didn't bother with words. She slapped the Forge-Seal out of Harmonia's hand.

"Are all of these 'proofs' something Sister prepared in advance? A little theater for our benefit?"