Something jealous flashed in his eyes. He caught my chin in one hand and forced my head up.

“Who were you talking to?”

Before I could answer, he wrenched the message stone from me, and the moment his own divine power registered in it, a small, possessive smile touched his lips.

“Sweetheart, I see. You’re jealous.” He looked at the burns on my body, and something softened in his eyes that wanted to be tenderness. “Seraphina is the Goddess of Flame. A mortal cannot defy her. You understand?”

He took out a salve infused with his own power, and his touch was light, almost gentle. “Her fire was a little hot. I’ll speak to her, and she won’t treat you that way again. Stop being difficult. Apologize to her at the Council tomorrow, and this will all be behind us. All right?”

I watched his hand on me.

Five years ago, he had cradled my face and told me I was the only one. I told him I liked white roses, and he had planted the whole divine mountain with them, with his own hands.

And now he was sleeping with another woman and asking me to apologize to the one who had killed our daughter.

My silence wasn’t what he wanted, and something cooled in his face.

He was about to say something more when Kratos and Bia burst through the door, panicked.

“Lord. There are projections covering Mount Olympus. All of Seraphina.”

Caelum’s hand on me went still.

Kratos’s voice shook. “It’s footage of her burning Nia. And of her and you, in the temple. It’s reached every mortal city and every temple, and the people are tearing her statues apart.”

His face went black with rage.

“Who did this?”

Bia kept her head down. “We can’t trace it. The projection carries your divine signature, so no one else can dispel it.”

His grip on me clenched, and the pain forced a sound out of me.

“Elara.” He caught my chin again. Eyes narrowed, he studied me, burns and all. “How did you copy my power? Was it the half of my blood I gave you?”

“Do you understand what this means? If mortal faith collapses, all of Olympus falls.”

I was almost lifted off the ground and could hardly breathe. I forced the words out between my teeth. “It wasn’t me.”

He gave a short laugh. “Who else?”

He let go, and I slid down the wall to the floor.

He didn’t want my explanation. He just announced it. “Tomorrow, at the Council, in front of every god and every mortal, you will withdraw these accusations. You will apologize to Seraphina in your own voice.”

I lifted my head. “No.”

He crouched down to my level, his voice dropping quiet.

He spoke calmly, and it was the calmness that made my skin go cold. “That isn’t up to you. If you refuse, I will find Nia, no matter where you’ve hidden her, and you will never see her again. I won’t risk her growing up around a mother as twisted as you.”

Every drop of blood in my body went cold.

He was threatening me with Nia. If he found her ashes, what would he do to them?

I couldn’t even think about it. I stared at him with red, burning eyes. I couldn’t move, the burns were still seeping, and I couldn’t have stood if I’d tried.

After Caelum left, I dragged myself across the floor to the corner and found the message stone.

I asked the Caelum from five years ago. “Was it you? The projections over Olympus?”

The answer came instantly.

“Yes. Anyone who hurt you or Nia, I won’t spare a single one of them.”

“Including myself.”

The next morning, two divine guards walked me into the side hall of the Council.

I was wrapped in bandages, the burns still bleeding through, and I limped.

The door opened, and Seraphina walked in.

She waved the attendants out, and the moment the door shut, the look of holy compassion peeled away from her face, layer by layer.

She stood in front of the chair I was sitting in and looked down at me. There was a small, pleased curve at the corner of her mouth, pure amusement.

“You didn’t actually believe Nia had a curse, did you?” she said, easy, unhurried.

I stared at her, and something dropped inside my chest.

The Fates’ prophecy. The curse. Had she fabricated all of it?

She watched the hate rise in my eyes, and her smile widened. “There it is. And just so you know, while you were rotting in Tartarus, your precious daughter was suffering right alongside you.”

She lifted one finger and tapped my forehead. “While the mist was taking you apart, Nia was on her knees at my feet. Bowing. Crying for her mama between every bow. It was unbearable to look at.”

“I got tired of the noise eventually.” She straightened, smoothing her sleeve, her voice flat and conversational. “So I turned the fire up. Better to be done with her quickly.”

“But don’t worry. Caelum has no idea. Even if you ripped out your own heart and showed it to him, he would only think you’d lost your mind. Who believes a filthy mortal?”

She tilted her head. “Elara. You should never have set your sights so high. The King of the Gods? Really?”

I couldn’t even hear her past the first words. All I could see was Nia, on her knees in front of this woman, bowing, crying for me.

I threw myself at her. I gathered every drop of the half-divine blood Caelum had once poured into me and put all of it into the strike.

Seraphina didn’t have time to react. The blow landed, and she actually staggered back and coughed up a mouthful of blood.

The hall doors slammed open. Caelum charged in and caught her against his chest.

I laughed, low. “What kind of goddess can be hurt by a mortal?”

Seraphina’s face went black.

Caelum swept his hand, and I was thrown into the wall. The back of my skull cracked against stone, and my vision went out for a moment.

“Elara. When did you turn this cruel? I gave you my blood for this?”

I spat out the blood in my mouth and pulled the echo conch from my pocket. I’d had it ready.

The conch can record anything spoken within ten feet.

I played back every word Seraphina had just said.

“You didn’t actually believe Nia had a curse, did you?”

“I got tired of the noise eventually… so I turned the fire up.”

Seraphina’s face went white.

Caelum snatched the conch out of the air.

I thought he would listen.

He didn’t. He crushed it in his fist.

“How many fake proofs are you going to invent in Nia’s name?” His face was a thundercloud.

I looked up at him, and suddenly all of this was funny.

I pushed myself up from the floor and lifted my head to meet his eyes.

“Caelum. If there’s a next life, I only pray Nia never has a father like you.”

His pupils contracted.

His mouth opened, but he didn’t get a chance to speak.

Behind him, Seraphina spoke softly. “Don’t waste your breath. She’s completely lost her mind. Send her back to Tartarus. At least there she can’t hurt anyone.”

She leaned against his shoulder, her voice soft with sorrow, as if she pitied me.

Caelum looked at Seraphina, then at me.

He called for the guards. “Drag her back to Tartarus. This time use lightning. She comes out when she confesses, and not before.”

The guards took me by both arms and dragged me toward the door.

Outside there was a massive crack of sound, an explosion, and a figure stood in the doorway, wrapped in gold lightning.

The Caelum from five years ago walked in carrying Nia’s urn.

His face was murder. His gaze raked across Seraphina, across the guards, and locked on the face of his older self.

“Stop.”