Chapter 2

My hands were shaking as I picked up the speaking stone and asked Aetheon to explain himself.

His voice came back lazy, drenched in a god's arrogance.

"Elara, if you want to be my queen, you'll have to get used to it."

The gods of Olympus were still outside, waiting for an answer.

I shoved the doors open and walked out, and suddenly I remembered the day, ten years ago, when he'd taken the throne.

Aetheon had stood at the peak of Olympus, drenched in blood, and announced to the gods that I was his only betrothed—the queen he'd chosen.

They were furious. They denounced my mortal blood. They demanded he take a goddess instead, a noble one, to secure his throne.

But Aetheon had drawn his lightning blade without hesitation, and pulled me behind him.

"If she's not with me, I don't want the throne. I'd give it all up first."

Back then, every god wanted to know how long this lovestruck king and his mortal could possibly last.

Less than ten years, it turned out. And everything had changed.

When I reached his main temple, I caught the maids' eyes—pity, sympathy—and I understood instantly.

I shoved the doors of his bedchamber open.

What I saw made my whole body shake. Something in my chest tore open.

The cloying scent of bodily fluids washed over me, and shredded garments lay scattered across the floor.

Aetheon pinned the mortal girl to the bed, thrusting his massive cock into her from behind, again and again.

The portrait depicting the moment he had proposed to me atop Mount Olympus lay on the table.

Upon seeing me enter, he did not stop; instead, he only quickened his pace.

The girl’s legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, the wet, slapping sounds of their bodies colliding ringing out—sticky and loud.

“Ah… King, that’s too deep… You’re going to break me…”

Lust flared even brighter in Aetheon’s eyes. With a ragged gasp, he pulled out of the girl’s body and, with pinpoint precision, ejaculated a thick, milky stream of fluid directly onto the portrait—obscuring my face.

I had to brace myself against the wall. I doubled over, dry-heaving until my stomach cramped.

The girl, completely unfazed, arched her body and leaned against his chest. She looked at me deliberately.

"Oh, so this is your famous queen? She looks pretty boring. Bet she's like a dead fish in bed. What a shame."

Aetheon fixed his heavy gaze upon me, yet his hands did not cease their work; he continued to knead the girl’s nipples, eliciting a soft moan from her.

“Get out,” Aetheon said calmly.

The girl grumbled in protest, reaching out to grasp his thick, fluid-slicked member. “Didn’t you promise you’d finish inside me?”

Aetheon pressed his lips together, a flicker of impatience crossing his face.

“Be a good girl. I’ll fuck you again tonight.”

The girl pouted, then—deliberately, right in front of me—she licked the semen from her fingers and gave them a suggestive wiggle in my direction.

“Fine, I’ll be waiting. And don’t forget what you said earlier—that next time, you’d fuck me right there on the Divine Throne.”

Naked, the girl walked out.

Aetheon didn't bother to explain. He waved a hand, cleaned himself with his power, and pulled on a robe.

He patted my back. "You didn't lose it just now. That was well done."

His voice was even. There was almost approval in it. "Are you starting to understand? You're finally acting like a queen."

A laugh broke out of me. "Aetheon. I'm not choosing anything."

I made a scene. A huge one. I made him banish the girl from the realm of the gods. Forever.

Aetheon brushed the tears from the corner of my eye, his voice warm and weary.

"She was just a mortal toy. I sent her off. Don't be upset."

I held on to what we had like a madwoman. I thought if I just kept trying, everything could go back to how it was.

Until our tenth anniversary together. I climbed a dangerous cliff alone to gather the nectar he loved best, to brew his favorite wine.

But above me—above the peak of Olympus—a vision flared into the sky. Aetheon and the newest goddess of love, together.

He had her pressed against a throne, taking her like a man possessed.

I smashed the wine flask in my hand.

I lost all reason. I tore through every mortal temple that worshipped that new goddess of love.

I toppled her statues with my own hands. I kicked over her altars. I even offered my own blood to the Furies, begging them to call down the worst curse they could on the two of them.

But a mortal's struggle, in the eyes of the king of the gods, is the struggle of an insect.

Aetheon didn't even bother to be angry. He issued one casual decree—it crushed my curse like nothing, and ordered every city in the world to build the new love goddess even grander temples.

He promised the mortals, publicly: whoever made the richest offerings to her would have his thunder's blessing.

My hysteria became entertainment. Gossip for the banquets of Olympus.

He didn't even care about that goddess, not really. He was just using her to break me. To force me to bow and accept what I was.

"Elara." He looked down at me as if I were a misbehaving pet. "If she annoys you that much, deal with her, fine. But goddesses can be tricky. As long as you behave, I can drop her too, whenever you want."

"This crying and screaming you keep doing, though—how long do you plan to keep it up?" He pressed a finger to the bridge of his nose, exhausted.

"For the sake of our ten years together, I'll teach you how to be a proper queen. Just this once."

He took the cloak I treasured most—my most precious thing—and draped it over the shoulders of his new lover.

That cloak. Years ago, when he was being hunted, when we were running together, we'd been forced to hide in a crack in a glacier.

I was shaking from the cold, half-delirious with fever.

To save me, he had pulled one of his own bones out of his body, and used the last of his power to weave that cloak.

His eyes were red enough to bleed. He'd wrapped it around me so carefully, then crushed me against his chest.

"Elara. I'm going to become the king of the gods. After that, nobody is ever going to hurt you again."

He'd become king, all right. And the one who hurt me most—was him.

I cried until I couldn't breathe that day. He didn't take the cloak back.

The woman beside him kept changing. A proud goddess, then a deep-sea siren, then a forest elf.

Once, when I heard about his newest lover, I knocked over a sacred flame and set my own desk on fire.

While I was recovering in the temple's hot spring, he calmly carried a naked goddess into the same pool, in front of me, and took her in the water.

That was when I broke completely.

Every time he brought a woman back to the temple, I went in like a wild thing, smashing what I could reach, dragging the screaming women off his bed and out the door.

In the deep silence of the night, the Fates whispered to me, cruel.

"Your luck is up, mortal. The gods are laughing at you. The King got bored of you a long time ago."

I didn't know what I was still trying to hold on to.

I made scene after scene, like a furious, exhausted wife who couldn't stop.

But the more I fought, the more I burned through what was left of his patience.

Aetheon brought down a barrier of lightning. I wasn't to set foot in the temple again.

Outside the barrier, my heart lay dead and turned to ash.

Yet, from within the temple, I heard cries of such cloying, extreme lewdness—along with the sounds of flesh slamming together with brutal violence:

“Ah... King, harder... The Queen is still right outside...”

Immediately following came Aetheon’s low, panting growl: “Ignore her. Focus.”

My chest hurt so badly I could barely breathe.

In the end, I drew a dagger laced with deadly poison, and drove it into my own heart.