He was here. On Samos. Close enough that his dolphins had responded to my potential drowning with immediate help.
The idea of another Alpha sniffing around me turned my stomach. I’d had enough of Alphas and their certainty that they knew what was best. But as Helena hauled me onto the sand and wrapped a blanket around me, a different thought crystallized.
Maybe all along, I just had to fight fire with fire.
Alexander Stormwright thought he could stalk me, curse me, destroy everything I’d built. Helena thought she could cage me on this island until I submitted to their ‘treatment’ and accepted my role as a cursed Hera Omega. But Orion Maris wielded a power neither of them could control.
And maybe the only way to extinguish a storm was with an ocean.
11
Lust and Lucidity
Alexander
“She tried to swim to Turkey last night.”
In the oppressive darkness of Helena’s office, her words echoed almost as heavily as Zeus’s warnings. The beeswax candles had burned down to almost nothing, leaving us in gloom.
“Turkey,” I repeated. “The currents could have killed her in a heartbeat.”
I paced the length of the Persian rug, struggling to contain the excess energy buzzing beneath my skin. Every step sent a spark jumping across my mind, a constant reminder of the power I wielded and the control I lacked.
“She didn’t care about currents, Alexander. She cared about escaping.” Helena sat behind her massive mahogany desk. She was clutching a crystal tumbler of amber liquid, the ice clinking softly as her hands trembled. “The locks I placed on her door couldn’t hold her, because she’s my daughter. And the Athena ward only made her lose hope.”
Cassandra Reed stood by the unlit hearth, and a Hephaestus data crystal floated above her palm. “The locks were never the problem, Helena.” The crystal projected a rotating, three-dimensional model of Andie’s brain. “The curse is getting worse. It triggered a flight-or-fight impulse, magnified a thousand times. She was always going to run. It was only a question of when.”
The bitter taste of guilt flooded my mouth. I had done this. My mere existence had turned my own mate into someone who would dive into a dark ocean to escape a sanctuary.
“We wanted to give her some respite, time to adjust to the island before she met with you,” Cassandra continued, looking up from the scan. “We hoped the distance would calm her somewhat. But clearly, it isn’t working.”
That was the understatement of the century.
“We got lucky,” Helena whispered, setting the glass down with a heavy thud. “Orion Maris’s yacht is in these waters. If it hadn’t been…”
Instantly, I stopped pacing. Orion Maris. He was coming back to haunt me now, at what was probably the worst time in my life. I remembered the smug, knowing look in his eyes when he’d taunted me in Norway. Now, I was indebted to him. Orion controlled the waters, and he had used them to save her when I couldn’t.
“He is watching,” I muttered. “He knew she was in the water before your guards did.”
“He honored the ancient pact between Hera and Poseidon,” Helena said, though her voice lacked conviction. “But he will not protect her forever. Not from herself.”
I looked at the angry red map of Andromeda’s mind. Distance was killing her. Isolation was driving her mad.
“I’m done waiting,” I said, the static rising in the room, making the hairs on Helena’s arms stand up. “Take me to her.”
We left the suffocating gloom of the office, stepping out into the heavy embrace of the Mediterranean night. Samos smelled different than the mainland, richer, steeped in salt and jasmine. Massive Ionic columns rose into the darkness, casting long shadows across the courtyards. It was a place of silence, but not of peace. As we walked, robed priestesses moved through the periphery of my vision like silent, gliding ghosts.
Somewhere in the distance, a peacock cried out. Its harsh, mournful shriek was a reminder that I was walking in the garden of the Goddess who despised my ancestor’s infidelity more thananything else. I could feel eyes on me, not just those of the priestesses, but something older, heavier. It felt like Hera herself was watching from the friezes, her stone gaze filled with cold disapproval.
Helena stopped a young initiate carrying a basket of linen. “Where is my daughter?”
The girl froze, bowing her head. “Still in the orchards, Matriarch. She seems to be calm for now.”
Cassandra let out a small, relieved breath. “It’s a good day. Sometimes, she hates it there as much as she does in her room or the temple. It reminds her too much of what she is.”
“House Hera,” I said, the words bitter.
“An Olympian Omega,” Helena corrected, staring past the columns toward the dark line of trees. “My daughter. Trapped here.”