The Goddess Legacy Page 12

“What could I have possibly done, and why would I have done it?” I brushed a lock of Ares’s hair from his eyes. Such a beautiful baby. He deserved so much more than the father he had.

Lightning cracked outside the balcony, mere feet away from where we lay. If Zeus thought his threats would frighten me into complacency, he was sorely mistaken. At last, however, his shoulders sank, and he reached out for me. “Hera, my love, I’m so sorry. I made a grave mistake—”

I slapped his hand away. “From what I’ve heard, you’ve made several mistakes. How many mistresses have you had since we married?”

His brow furrowed. “Just one. Just Leto—”

“Liar.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, as if he were in pain. “Hera, please—”

“I will not sit here and listen to your lies.” I stood, and in my arms, Ares made a small sound. “You may either lie and go or stay and tell the truth. If you want any chance of me helping your precious Leto, I’d suggest the latter.”

“I’m loyal to you,” he said, his voice breaking. “To you and only you. The others, they’re nothing—”

“If they are nothing, then why did you bother with them in the first place?”

“Weakness. Opportunity. I wasn’t thinking—”

“That much is obvious.”

“Hera, please.” Zeus stood and moved toward me, but I backed away. “They’re innocent children.”

“So is Ares, yet before a week’s passed, you’ve forced him to face his father’s infidelities and lies.” I walked to the curtain that separated our chambers from the hallway. “I won’t help you or Leto. As far as I’m concerned, our marriage is over.”

“Then so is your role as my queen.”

I stopped, and the darkness spun around me. I clutched Ares to my chest. “My title has nothing to do with our marriage.”

“It has everything to do with our marriage, and you know it.”

“You can’t strip me of our partnership—”

“If you dissolve our marriage, I can and I will,” he said in a dangerously soft voice. “I’ve made mistakes. I won’t make them again. All I ask for now is your forgiveness, and that you not take your anger out on the innocent.”

“Because of you, none of us are innocent.” My eyes watered, and I gazed down at my son. My title or my pride. That was the choice he was forcing upon me. All I’d worked for, all I’d done for the council—or having to stand beside a god who had lied to me about everything.

Our whole family must have known. Certainly Poseidon and Demeter, and Demeter wouldn’t keep something like this from Hestia. Though not Hades. Hades would have told me—

I’d chosen wrong. I should’ve waited. Hades would’ve never done this to me. I should’ve listened to him, to my sister, to my conscience—but I’d been blinded by Zeus’s promises and my pride. I’d thought I could change him. Clearly I’d been wrong. And now the whole council would suffer for me.

No. I wouldn’t allow everything we’d worked for to fall. No matter what Zeus seemed to think, we all had equal say on the council. And as long as those twins never arrived, as long as he never had the chance to place them among us, then he was still only one voice.

“I will remain with you,” I said thickly, staring at our son. My son. “I will not forgive you, but I will stay. And in return, you will never see those children or that woman again.”

Silence, followed by soft footsteps as he moved toward me. “And you will allow her to give birth?”

“I will relieve her of her burden.”

He set his hand on my back, the heat between us hotter than the hottest forge. “Very well. I am and have always been yours.”

I turned away from him and stepped into the corridor. “No, you haven’t,” I whispered, and before he could tell me any other lies, I hurried away, heading for my sister.

* * *

For the next three days, I waited for news. I avoided my duties both to the realm and to Zeus, wanting to give him a taste of what it would be like to rule without me. Perhaps in the early days he could’ve handled it on his own, but now the realm was far too big for any one person to rule without things slipping through the cracks. Eventually he would discover just how much he needed me.

I remained with Demeter, sleeping in her chambers and wandering the earth beside her, showing Ares the beauty of the world. He seemed to enjoy it, gurgling and turning his face toward the sun. I avoided the lake where I’d helped the injured bird, knowing that if Zeus wanted to find me, that was the first place he would look. And I would not be fooled by him again.

“It’ll get easier, you know,” said Demeter as we wandered across a white sand beach, searching for shells for Ares. “Eventually the hurt and anger will fade.”

“But things will never be the same again,” I said bitterly. “I will never be as happy as I was, believing his promises.”

“Happiness is a choice, sister,” she said, plucking a piece of coral from the sand. “You have a beautiful baby who loves you nearly as much as you love him. Isn’t that enough reason to find joy in the world?”

“Sometimes. Most of the time. But there’s a piece of me that will always remain shriveled because of what his father did.”

“Then hide it away and never let it be seen, not even by yourself. Focus on the good, and eventually happiness will come as easily as—”