Chapter 6

Zeus.

I stand still, discipline as a soldier and discipline from our father, all of it restraining me. All of it forcing me not to react. Memories from years ago flood back now.

A seven year old me and a twelve year old Norman, playing. Then all of a sudden, Norman shoved me hard against the concrete. I cried out as I hit the ground. My skin scraped harshly against it.

“This will teach you and that mother of yours to always remember your place. Beneath our feet.” Norman said scornfully.

I was seven, and my mother and I had just been brought by Father a few days earlier to equally live with him in his estate. I had always known I had a brother. Mother always told me. Father always told me. But what I never knew was the extent of hate he was going to have for me.

In a fit of rage, I scrambled to my feet, blinded by anger and pain. Tears blurred my vision as I lunged for him. I knocked him to the ground and started raining heavy blows on him. As heavy as my tiny hands could go. He cried. And within seconds, the adults came for us. Our mothers and the staff.

His mother yanked me off her son. My mother pulled me to her. His mother dragged him to herself.

“Get away from my boy, you bastard.” His mother yelled at me, scorn dripping from her voice.

My mother pressed me tightly to her.

“Laraba, don’t do this…” my mother pleaded softly. “Don’t let these brothers grow up in hatred.”

“You haven’t seen hate yet, Miriam.” My stepmother hissed. “You took my husband under the covers of the dark. Weaseled your way into our home with your bastard son. And you think there will be peace and love?” She closed the space between herself and my mother, her voice dropping lower. “Well, think again.”

And with that, she stormed away with my brother.

I pressed myself closer to my mother, crying bitterly. Terrified that I had disappointed both my mother and father.

“S...Sorry that I disappointed you, Mummy.” I cried into her clothes.

She had just crouched down to my level when Father’s voice came from behind us.

“You didn’t disappoint your mother, son.”

Father’s tone was warm. Calm.

I snapped my anxious gaze toward him.

He always frightened me. My father, Zeus Ironheart. He always appeared to me as this untouchable leader. A man who exuded power without even trying.

He stepped closer and crouched low before me.

“You defended yourself. Self defense is no shame.” Father said calmly.

I stared at him, stunned.

“You will be a soldier someday. You will understand. But what is a shame is provocation. Malice against one’s own blood. That is what your brother showed. Malice.”

He turned his gaze toward where my brother and stepmother had disappeared.

“I watched the entire thing from my briefing room. I was with my generals. That was the reason I did not come sooner to stop the fight.”

Then he looked back at me, a small smile resting on his face.

“Never hate yourself for self defense. But hate yourself for causing trouble, causing fights out of malice against loved ones. Against humanity.”

His words stuck to me. Those words never left me.

And now, I face my elder brother again.

And Father’s words come back to me.

Self defense is no shame.

Without batting an eyelid, I tackle him and rip the sword from him. I press it hard against his neck.

His eyes widen with horror.

“What… What are you doing, Zeus?” Norman cries out, horrified.

My lips pull thin, my eyes blazing with fury.

“Put… Put that thing away…” Norman stammers.

I press the sword closer to his neck. My breaths come out ragged. Rage detonates violently inside me.

“Father told me once.” I start tightly, “Self defense is no shame. Only malice against one’s kin.”

My chest rises and falls in rapid succession. My grip around the sword’s hilt tightens painfully.

“Father told you that?”

Norman’s voice comes softer now. Part wounded. Part bitter. Part angry.

“He never told me anything. He was never close to me. He did not even give me his name. And I was his first.”

My grip on the sword never wavers. I never break eye contact.

But inside my brother, I see something crack.

A fracture in his usually hard and arrogant exterior. I see a boy who had yearned desperately for affection from our father.

Without another word, I toss the sword aside.

“I did not allow a rebellion rise against you.” My voice comes out smaller now. I shift my gaze toward Norman.

He watches me carefully as he straightens himself. He brushes his hands over his perfectly tailored outfit.

“If anything, I squashed it. And I was here to give you a status report of all that happened. That was why I arrived in DC Wing.” I stare at him carefully now, watching every movement.

He inhales steadily. Nods once. “My generals told me rebels destroyed everything…”

“Your generals are intimidated by my presence.” I cut in quietly, my posture rigid. “They want to see me fail. They already know the bad blood between us, so they use every opportunity to disapprove of me before your eyes.”

I pause.

“The rebellion was squashed. The rebels were taken care of. The wing is now under twenty four hour surveillance. That is all that matters.” My tone turns professional. Clipped.

We stand there. Brothers. Strangers. Watching each other. Norman nods once and I give him a curt courtesy nod before turning away, already walking toward the exit.

“And Zeus.”

I halt at the sound of my brother’s voice.

“If in any way such a rebellion rises against me again, I will not hesitate to raise iron against you. Kin or not.” Norman warns coldly.

I turn slowly to him, fixing him with my coldest glare.

“You already raised iron against me, Norman. You already do not regard me as kin.”

And with those words from me, I turn and walk away from my brother.

But the second I reach the hallway, I come face to face with my stepmother. The scorn in her eyes is immediate. Sharp and venomous.

“I should have asked my son to kill you years ago when he had the chance.” Her voice drips with poison. I frown deeply. “By now, you would not have tried to think yourself his equal.”

She steps closer until she stands directly in front of me.

“I will make sure he destroys you before you destroy him.” Her voice lowers dangerously.

And as I stare into her eyes, I see it clearly. Murder. Cold, deliberate murder burning inside her gaze.

For the first time in years, something cold crawls down my spine. Because she means every single word. And somewhere deep inside me, a terrifying thought rises.

If she is willing to kill me, then what exactly is Norman willing to do next?