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“I don’t understand.” I shift closer to the edge of the couch. “Why would the realm die if there was no war?”

“The realms are sentient.” Ares sighs. “Like all living things, if it is not fed, death is inevitable.”

“But—” My conversation with Hera returns to me. I have the power to feed the realm.

“What does Olympus feed on?”

“The Gods,” Hephaestus answers without explanation.

I frown, wondering why, then, Hera wanted me.

“Okay—so why does Zeus want war?” It doesn’t make sense. If Olympus feeds on the Gods, why would the Gods want war?

Hephaestus stands, pacing in long strides. His jaw works with emotion before he grinds out, “There is no time so abundant in prayer, as there is during times of war.” His metal flecked eyes shift again to Melody, before he forces them to me. “There is no greater source of nourishment to the Gods than prayer. It is second only to the lifeforce of the soul which leaches into the spilled blood of the living.”

Gideon makes a strangled noise, shaking his head viciously. “That’s why you have the arena. Why you kidnap people from earth.”

“We do none of that,” Ares growls low and dangerously. “My father…”

“And that’s Zeus, right? Your father, I mean?”

“I see someone doesn’t know much about their Gods.”

“Man.” Gideon’s hands fly up in surrender. “I was raised with no religion. My only church was the jiujitsu studio.”

“That’s how you were able to survive in the ring so long?” Every pair of eyes snap to me at my words.

Gideon nods. “Yeah.”

“All right.” I scoot closer to the flames, tucking the blanket tighter around myself. “So, the Gods harvest the energy ofprayer, then? But wouldn’t they need the prayers to be directed at them?”

Hephaestus shakes his head. “Not exactly. If you want a God to hear a prayer directly from you, you must be praying directly to that God. Say his name. Pray in his temple. Offer him a gift, a sacrifice.”

I flinch at the word sacrifice. So does Melody beside me. At the small, barely imperceptible movement, Hephaestus’ eyes snap to her. Darkness floods his eyes a moment before they are completely blasted with metal.

Melody shifts under the intensity of his stare.

Ares cocks a brow, a small grin forming not long after.

Gideon looks concerned for Melody, but does little as he waits, watching.

I speak again, breaking the silence. “You’re saying the Gods can hear prayer that is meant for another God, then? That they feed on it?”

“Yes.” Hephaestus’ eyes don’t shift from Melody. “All Gods today are an extension somehow of the original Gods. The history represented in religious texts today leans heavily on the events from which we lived and were worshiped as Deities long ago. Great temples were crafted, a direct vein for prayer to travel to the Gods. An umbilical cord, if you will.” His massive hands clap together between his knees. Hephaestus is a giant of a man. “Prayer is the sustenance that travels through the Gods into Olympus.”

“Has it always been like that?” I hesitate to ask but need the answer. Need to hear it from the Gods who live here in Olympus now. For it is from them that Olympus feeds.

“Why do you ask that?” There is a quiet kind of danger to Ares’ voice that lifts the hair on my arms.

I shift to look at him, finding his eyes already on me. “Um—I—” I tuck my hair nervously behind my ear. Ares doesn’t tear hiseyes from mine. I press on. “Well, I spoke with Poseidon not long ago and?—”

“Poseidon?” Gideon interrupts, shocked. “The God of the Sea?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“Holy shit. I mean cool.” He bobs his head. “I know that God. I mean I know of that God.”

Ares lets a low rumble from the prison of his chest, and Gideon snaps his mouth shut. To save Gideon from the wrath of the war God who saved him and is now looking at him like he might regret doing such a thing. Like he might rectify his mistake.