Chapter 3

The next morning, I was packing my bag.

The door opened. Cassia walked in, looking tired.

Instantly, the sharp, pungent smell of mortal herbs assaulted me.

It was Lycus’s scent.

My hands stilled.

Cassia’s senses are incredibly sharp.

Before, if I had even a hint of monster’s blood or sweat on me, she’d wrinkle her nose and order me to the divine springs to bathe.

She always said she couldn’t stand any mixed scents.

But now, she stood there, cloaked in the smell of mortal herbs, completely at ease.

In that moment, I finally understood. She didn't hate mixed scents.

She just hated mine.

“Lycus couldn’t absorb the divine power in the nectar last night. He came down with a high fever.”

Cassia walked to the table, offering an explanation. There wasn’t a trace of guilt in her voice.

“I had to stay in the guest room to soothe him. I couldn't get away, so I didn’t come back.”

She didn’t ask if my poison was cured.

She didn’t even notice the official scroll on the table.

Her gaze fell on the bag I was packing.

I saw it clearly. The tension in her shoulders released. She let out a small, almost inaudible sigh of relief.

“Going to hunt monsters?” she asked.

She probably thought I was running off to the battlefield to blow off steam. To avoid another fight with her.

“Yeah,” I said. I didn’t correct her.

“Good. Go clear your head.”

She was already distracted, walking quickly toward the inner chamber.

A moment later, she came back with a pouch full of powerful wards and the lightest, most form-fitting piece of mail armor.

Preparations for her night out with Lycus. For the play. In case they ran into monsters.

“I have to go. Lycus can’t be left alone right now.”

She grabbed her things and walked out without a backward glance.

CRACK.

The enchanted portrait that had hung on the wall for eight years crashed to the floor. It shattered.

I stopped. I looked down at the glittering magical shards.

It was a moving image of us, from the first time we fought a Siren together.

In the picture, a drenched Cassia was clinging to my hand.

She had looked me in the eye that day and promised: Aresion, I will always fight by your side.

But ever since Lycus, she’d forgotten everything.

From outside the door, there was no sound. No pause. She didn’t even care what had broken.

I stood there in silence for a long time.

Then, I slowly knelt down. I picked up the shards, piece by piece.

I walked to the fireplace. I tossed them in, along with the last shred of hope in my heart. I watched them burn.

Evening.

I was sitting in the empty chambers when my brother-in-arms, Damon, shattered my peace with a furious mind-link.

“Aresion! Is Cassia insane?!”

Damon’s roar made my ears ring. “I get she wants to protect that mortal, but she has to at least protect your dignity! Your vows aren’t even broken, and she’s flaunting her affair with that loser on the public Iris-pool for all of Olympus to see!”

I calmly touched the pool in front of me, opening the projection.

Lycus had cast a new vision into the public pool.

In the image, a shimmering, priceless defensive bracer encircled his pale wrist.

I recognized it instantly. A top-tier artifact forged by Hephaestus himself.

Glowing letters hovered beneath his image: “Three years of being blessed by a goddess. Thank the fates for you, my goddess. Happy third anniversary!”

Third anniversary.

I stared at those words for a long time.

Today wasn’t just the third anniversary of Lycus becoming her servant.

It was the third anniversary of my union ceremony with Cassia.

So, it’s our anniversary again.

For three years, on this exact day, she used Lycus’s poor health as an excuse to leave me alone.

After a while, even I forgot what day it was.

Only the mortal remembered. Because for him, it was a day of victory.

“This is too much!” Damon was still raging. “It’s your third anniversary! It’s one thing for her not to be with you, but to give a Hephaestus-grade artifact to a mortal? What does she think you are?! Are you just going to take this? Go break the vows!”

Listening to my friend’s shock and outrage, I just let out a long breath.

The weight that had been crushing my chest for three years finally lifted.

“There are no vows to break, Damon,” I said calmly. “Because in three years, we never even completed the Soul-Binding.”

“You’ve been joined for three years? And Cassia never bound herself to you?!”

The shocked cry from the mind-link nearly deafened me.

Yes. The ceremony was three years ago.

And for him, that mortal, she had refused to bind her soul to mine. Seventeen times.