Leto leaned into Luc and whispered something in his ear, making the obvious pain on his face clear.

“You know what this means, right?” Leto smiled at her daughter, a look of sheer triumph.

She did. But it was so preposterous. “Why wasn’t it fulfilled when I was born, or when you got married?”

“The family has to be with Apollo, or his offspring. Apollo killed Luc before you were born. He knew what it would mean, and he tried to prevent it.”

“Do you think he knew?” Even as Hope asked, she knew the answer. That was exactly why he killed his son. Hadn’t the sun god proven time and again how ruthlessly possessive he was? It was just so bewildering to think . . . “Is it really fulfilled?”

Leto bit the side of her mouth in a familiar gesture of worry. Luc patted her arm and turned to his daughter.

“Apollo will argue that it was not. That all the requirements of the curse were not fulfilled. But technically, they were. The Sphinx’s offspring married Apollo’s offspring and”—he pointed at Hope—“you are the child of that union.”

Hope’s mind was racing. If the curse was fulfilled, then why was she still changing? Why was she still a monster?

“He must acknowledge it, and if he will not, then the gods must rule on it. While it was technically fulfilled, Apollo could argue that technically it was not.”

A technicality? The almost uncontrollable desire to hit something pulsed through Hope. The fulfillment of the curse was hung up on a technicality? Gods! She really wanted to hit someone. No, she really only wanted to hit one person, and technically he wasn’t even a person. “So, the curse wasn’t fulfilled because he killed you?”

“It would not be the first time filicide was committed by the gods to achieve their ends.”

Right. A fact she was all too aware of. If she thought about it, she could still smell the char from Apollo’s sons in her room. The memory made her shudder. And then another thought crossed her mind. “He’s your dad.”

Symeon nodded.

“Which means . . .” The thought of the god caressing her cheek made her whole body shiver. “He’s my grandfather.”

Neither of her parents seemed shocked by her declaration.

“But he still wants me?” She couldn’t help but cringe even as she said the words. That was disgusting to even think about.

“Zeus married his own sister,” Leto said.

As if that wasn’t revolting. “Well, in my world, that is incest. And it’s gross. Moving on, please.” Hope couldn’t go there. “So then what? What would have to happen to get rid of the curse?”

Both women looked at Luc, who ran his hand through his hair in a gesture very reminiscent of another demigod.

“You will have to go to Olympus. Bring the curse and its fulfillment to the attention of the counsel. If Apollo won’t acknowledge it, you must get the gods to rule on it. Themis is probably your best bet. If you can convince her.”

Themis. The name sounded strangely familiar. “That’s it?”

Luc offered an indulgent smile. “It will be a trial to even get there. But I’m confident you, daughter, will make it happen.”

She wanted to ask him if he’d read any Greek mythology at all. But it would probably be rude to point out that, after all the studying she’d done in the conservatory, her odds actually didn’t seem particularly great. She looked around the small living room of her parents’ home in the Underworld and decided she didn’t really care about the odds, or else she would’ve never come here. Squaring her shoulders, Hope ticked off her next objective. “Go to Olympus and make Apollo acknowledge what a dirtbag he is. Got it.”

Leto laughed as she stood and crossed the room. She sat on the loveseat and wrapped her arms around Hope in a hug. “I will miss you, daughter of mine.”

“Do I have to leave now?” She’d just gotten there. Just met her father. Just . . . “I don’t want to go.”

Leto nodded. “I don’t want you to either.” She ran her hand over Hope’s hair and tugged at the ends. “Do you know you’ve always had a profound sense of justice? You have more courage in your thumb than I have in my whole body. Even when you were little, you would tell me that one day you would break the curse. You have every talent and characteristic you could ever need to fulfill your destiny.”

Hope choked back a sob. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and her heart . . . her heart was breaking. “Mom . . .”

“Don’t squander all your glory down here. Make things right.” Her mom pulled her close again and whispered in her ear, “For all of us.”

A thousand hugs would never be enough.

The gate clicked shut, and Hope turned to wave one last time. She held the Book of the Fates in one hand, and her other hand came to rest on the necklace her mother and father had given her. A picture of the two of them on their wedding day on one side, and a picture of her mom holding Hope as a baby on the other. It was priceless, not because of the material it was made of, but because of the memories imprinted on the photos held within and the love they represented.

Hope squared her shoulders and walked away from her parents’ home, but the vast emotional expenditure had exhausted her. The longer she walked, the harder it was to pick up her feet for that next step. The thin Book of the Fates seemed to weigh a ton, and Hope switched it from hand to hand.

The muggy air pushed down on her, and the incessant grating of beetles frayed her already stretched nerves. She was walking in the Underworld, albeit a very nice part of the Underworld judging by the large homes and well decorated yards, and she had no clue how to get back to Thanatos’s home.

Where had Asbolus run off to?

She passed several souls as she wandered, and it felt as if they were watching her, talking about her, pointing at her.

She turned to see if she could see her parents’ house, but she’d been walking a long time, and it had disappeared.

The sweet scent of peaches wafted on the breeze, and Hope’s stomach lurched even as her mouth watered. She knew she couldn’t eat any, but the fact that someone was growing fruit . . .

In the distance she saw a rich, vibrant green. Not the varying shades of emeralds that dripped from the jeweled trees. These were real trees. She had to be close to Persephone’s gardens.

Hope’s exhaustion fled in the excitement of knowing where she was. If she could get to the garden, she could get to—

Hope skidded to a stop.

The man walking toward her had a gait she would never forget. His broad shoulders and narrow waist came from hours of exercise. His dark hair was mussed as if he’d showered and run his hands through it far too many times. He was scowling and probably swearing to himself as he crossed the lawn. His countenance changed as soon as their eyes met. His face cleared, and a slow smile spread until both of his dimples popped, and he ran toward her.

It took only a second for Hope to respond. She was running to him, laughing with excitement, and her heart was so full it could burst.

She collided with Xan and buried herself in his chest.

“Hope.”

He breathed into her hair and kissed the top of her head, and for the second time that day, she burst into tears. He shushed her and held her, letting her soak the front of his shirt with her tears.

She hiccupped, and they both laughed. “You came.”

“Aye.” He cupped her face. “Did you really think I wouldn’t, lass?”

He smelled so alive, like leather and steel, and so much like Xan. She hugged him again. “I missed you.”

He chuckled, a low sound that reverberated through his chest. “I missed you, too. Did you get what you came for?”

Her success bubbled up. “Yes. I did. The curse . . . oh, gods. Yes. I need to go to Olympus next and get justice, but . . . Apollo killed his sons . . . And we can break the curse . . . And I met my mom, and my dad. And they’re happy. They’re so happy. And I can have that, and be alive. I don’t have to be cursed.” She was rambling, but it felt so good to say the words, to know the meaning, and with Xan there, she was sure to get out and succeed.

She couldn’t help but glance behind him. She wanted to know. “Is Athan okay? Did he—?”

Xan’s smile faded, and his gaze darted toward the peach trees. He took one step back but kept his hand on her arm. “Aye. He’s fine. Made a full recovery.”

Relief ran through her followed by excitement. “Is he here, too?”

Xan’s gaze again went to the peach trees. “He’s here, but . . .”

Oh no. No. No. No. “He didn’t . . . He’s still . . .”

Xan closed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair. “Listen. Yes. He’s okay. He’s fine. It’s just that—”

“Where is he?” Her worry and fear cycled, creating a rapidly building cyclone of emotions. “Where?”

Xan shook his head. “He’s got something he has to take care of first, Hope. He’ll come join us.”

Did Xan not understand this was the Underworld? There were still Skia here. Vengeful gods. Hades was allegedly looking for her for his own nefarious plans. They needed to get Athan and get out.

“Where?” She grabbed Xan’s shirt. “Please, tell me where.”

“In the orchard. I’ll take you—”

But she didn’t wait for him to finish. She couldn’t. She had to see Athan. See that he was okay. Tell him about what she’d found out. She wanted to kiss him and tell him they had a chance.

She could hear Xan behind her yelling for her to stop, and he was sure to catch up with her soon.

Hope jumped over the wall, the smell of ripe peaches hanging in the heavy air. The bubbling of the Lethe was beyond the perimeter wall. She turned the corner and practically tripped over her feet in an attempt to stop.

Athan was kissing someone. He was . . . He held her face in his hands, and he was kissing her. He was hugging her. They were so close.

Hope closed her eyes and turned away, but the image was burned into her brain. Tears stung and seeped through her eyelids.

“Hope,” Xan whispered. “Come on.”

He guided her away from the orchard, toward the back of the garden. And then his glances at the orchard made sense.

Her eyes flew open, and she glared at him. “You knew.”

He shook his head. “I would’ve never willingly let you see that. That’s . . . That be all arseways.”

“Who is she?”

Xan raised his eyebrows. “You sure you want to know?”

She nodded but then shook her head. “Does he love her?”

Xan blew out a long breath. “I don’t know.” His long fingers went through his hair again. “He used to.”

The knot in her stomach wouldn’t go away until she knew. At least if she knew, she could deal with it. She thought of the bricks that had once protected her heart. Athan had torn the wall down. He’d told her he’d meant all the kisses, all the endearment. She could deal with his past. “Tell me.”

“Athan came to the conservatory shortly after his mother died. He was maybe eight or ten.” He paused and tilted his head as if he were thinking. With a small shake he said, “Anyway, he was young. He was a nice kid, really sweet. He helped out a lot. Everyone liked him.”

Xan took a deep breath and slowly let it out through pursed lips. He cleared his throat.

Hope waited for him to continue, fidgeting on her feet as if on the edge of a precipice she was supposed to jump from. The silence stretched, and she wanted to yell at him to continue, to get it out already, but a part of her wanted to run away from what she feared was coming.

He ran his fingers through his hair and offered Hope a small smile. “I found Isa a few years later. Her father had died, and her mother is Aphrodite. Even when she was young, Isa was something to look at, but there is something almost compellingly attractive about Aphrodite’s daughters. They are like a magnet for men, and Isa was no different.”

The knot unfurled tentacles of dread in her stomach.

Xan shook his head. “But it was like Athan didn’t notice. He was friendly with her, nice to her, but he treated her like a friend. I’m sure that’s what attracted her to him. They were friends for a couple of years. They would play board games and pull silly pranks like short-sheet all the beds or put plastic wrap on the toilet seats. Totally immature, but they laughed all the time.”

Hope could see it. A young Athan and the beautiful Isa laughing, hugging . . . The scene of them kissing played through her mind, and her stomach churned.

“I was away when their relationship changed. There were reports of a demigod in Ireland, and Dahlia and I went to check it out.” He shook his head again, and his fingers threaded through his hair, making the ends stand up. “Skia were popping up everywhere, and we struggled to get to demigods in time. When Dahlia and I weren’t out on a search, we were training the demigods in the conservatories to defend themselves. No excuses, but I was really busy. All. The. Time.”

She could feel the story unraveling, and she knew the drop was coming.

“Athan was off with his dad when I got to the conservatory. Sometimes the two of them would disappear for weeks at a time. Isa and I were friends. She wanted to go out, but I was piss-drunk. We’d lost another demigod, and he looked a lot like Roan. Dahlia had disappeared, and it was just me and Isa . . .”

Hope felt like she’d been sucker punched. “You slept with Athan’s girlfriend?”

“I woke up, and we were in bed together. I was still dressed, but she said . . .” He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “She said we did.”

It was like grasping at straws as they slid through her fingers. She wanted, somehow, for it not to be true. “But you don’t remember?”

He closed his eyes and dropped his head. “I don’t remember. She told Athan when he got back a couple weeks later. I wasn’t sure what had happened, and I tried to tell him that, but he wouldn’t hear it. He forgave her, said I’d taken advantage of their friendship. I tried to tell him . . .” He gritted his teeth. “It would’ve been better if I’d just left for good, but I didn’t want to leave Dahlia. She’s funny about Seattle. She was . . .”

His emotion rolled off him, pain for his cousin and all that she’d suffered. Hope reached for him, but he stopped her.

He ran his hand down her arm, and squeezing her hand, he said, “Let me finish, or I’ll never get it out.”

“Okay.” Hope clasped her hands behind her back.

“Isa seemed to thrive on the contention she caused. Remember how Marilyn Monroe was? Aphrodite’s daughters all have a similar temperament. I don’t even know if Athan was aware of how she was behaving. He was in love with her, and she could do no wrong.

“He told me to stay away from her. And I tried. I stopped drinking at the conservatory. I spent more time with Dahl, Dion, and his brother Demitri. We’d lost several demigods over the years, and the Skia were picking off more and more of our numbers. Demitri and I were good friends. My best friend died shortly after Athan got here. Athan and I were tight . . . and then we weren’t. Demitri was cool, not like Athan or Luc—”

“So what happened?”

“Demitri died. Skia got him. I . . . I got slammed. I couldn’t deal. Then Athan was gone, off with his dad again. And Isa begged me to take her out. She promised to behave. That she wouldn’t hit on me again. She left me alone that night. But there were others she . . .” He shook his head, refusing to detail whatever had happened with Isa. “On the way home, we got ambushed. Skia came at us from all—”

Hope held up her hand. “Stop. Please. That’s enough.”

She couldn’t listen anymore. She’d told Priska she wasn’t sure Athan was the one, and maybe he wasn’t. But her heart didn’t believe what she now knew was a lie. Every single good thing had been taken away. Her mom and dad, Priska, Athan . . . Her heart couldn’t take it.

She could hear the river spilling over the rocks below. She just needed to get away for a minute. She stepped back, but he grabbed her wrist.

“Don’t run off, Hope.”

“Please.” She wanted to scream at Xan. That somehow it was his fault he’d let her see the kiss. It was like a movie on constant replay. How Athan cupped the girl’s face and bent over her to brush her lips, and to know how much he’d loved her— “I need a minute.”

This time she didn’t wait for a reply, and it appeared that Xan was smart enough to know she wasn’t asking for permission.

“I’ll be right here,” he yelled after her.