Page 5 of Queen to the Sunless Court (Brides of Myth #2)

Jilted

Calliste

For a while, Hypnos studied her, and she returned the scrutiny.

He seemed weary—as much as an immortal could.

It was as though his divinity had faded away somewhat, revealing what he’d rather keep hidden—but it was apparent in his harsher-than-usual features and the absence of his serene smile.

He still wore his black tunic: a stark contrast to his moonstone skin and the pale-honey hair trickling down his chest in careless cascades.

The ruby crown of scarlet poppies blazed against his icy eyes. His mouth was set.

Glacial eyes and a mouth like a slash, caught in the flare of his fair hair and glowing wings was exactly as she remembered him: hurtling through the Underworld and plummeting towards Styx when he’d decided to punish her for kissing Theron.

Along with the surge of terror as she’d believed she would die in the black depths of the river of Hate.

For a long while, neither of them spoke.

She steeled herself.

“I forgot that you can speak as easily as remain silent,” he finally remarked.

“Silence has been my friend for a long time, Hypnos.”

“Then I’ll speak. I take full responsibility for your injury; I never intended for it to happen. An apology is the least I can offer.”

“I accept your apology.”

“Excellent.” His gaze sharpened. “Because I’m not apologizing for anything else.”

She crossed her arms. “Neither will I.”

His nostrils flared as he stepped slightly closer. “It’s unwise to defy me, Calliste.” His wings glowed azure again: a clear warning.

“Blame it on nearly dying; a peculiar experience. It makes you reconsider your position on a number of issues.”

“It certainly made you bold.”

“It made me who I need to be. From now on, I must be fearless.”

Her reply silenced him for a while; unreadable emotions flickered in his silver eyes. “Interesting. There’s nothing wrong with being fearless, as long as you know your limits.” He rolled off that last word casually, as if in warning.

Despite all the anger simmering in her chest and the defiance she wanted to throw in his face, she faltered.

Limits .

As an immortal, he had none, his life and power burning like an endless flame, whereas hers was just a brief spark destined to fade.

Even as Epione’s priestess, she depended on him as a healer, much like everyone else.

No one could last long without sleep, and to antagonize the god of this domain would have consequences for her—and possibly the entire order.

Just like he’d warned her: I will be your reward…

or your punishment, if you don’t think carefully about your choices.

“When you speak of limits,” she said, holding his gaze, “do you mean the lines I shouldn’t cross? ”

“Precisely.” He moved even closer, now just a step away. Darkness caressed him as much as the light, enveloping him in a magnetic, divine aura: an enchanting and dangerous sight. “I’ve already explained. I disapprove of you associating with a blasphemous king.”

“Not blasphemous. Don’t make him into something he’s not.”

“Hmm. You should heed this advice, too.” He leaned in. “Stop fooling yourself into believing he would choose you for more than one night. He’s the king. You’ve seen the women at his court, haven’t you?”

“I have.” The image of two noblewomen, Kleio and Erythea, flashed in her mind, along with their effortless glamor compared to her making do with a borrowed robe. “Your point?”

“You must know it by now. You’re a novelty to him, but the allure won’t last forever. Once he grows bored, he can easily find a new thrill. He has hundreds to choose from at a snap of his fingers.”

She glared at him, hating that he was right. She couldn’t delude herself otherwise. Even I can’t be that naive.

“And then,” he continued in a bored tone, “did you really rise from a victim to a respected High Priestess just to throw it all away now that you’re so close? Disappoint Leontia? Sadden Epione?”

Her stomach churned. “Don’t say that.”

“Why?” he asked calmly. “Because it’s true?”

She opened her mouth, but couldn’t think of a convincing argument.

“See? I knew you were smarter than that,” he said quietly, his voice a fraction warmer. “That’s why, out of thousands of mortals I’ve encountered, you made me pause.”

She grounded herself in the moment, listening. “Why?”

“Because you’re halfway to divinity. I could make you the most powerful healer once you claim your seat as the Head Priestess. Isn’t that what you dreamed of?”

The way he phrased it stilled her. The temptation was undeniable, as if he knew exactly how to tempt someone who had been powerless for most of her life.

To have power equal to… perhaps Theron, or power that would elevate her order to recognition and reverence…

Then she sobered up. But it would be on his terms, of course.

She had to force her reply. “You make it sound like power to wield, Hypnos. I’ve never desired power or glory—only to use my gift to help. Mend. Heal.”

“Oh, that, too.” A light smile played on his full lips.

“But all mortals crave power or glory in some form, and you’re not an exception.

I don’t consider it a fault, since the immortals are the same.

Just because you don’t see it doesn’t make it any less true.

And it doesn’t mean that you cannot possess it.

” He’d already returned to his calm, glowing self. “Both power and divinity.”

“I’ll never be anything close to immortal.”

“Nectar and ambrosia could change that.”

This time, her chest tingled with disbelief. “I haven’t seen them served anywhere, not even at the king’s court.”

“For you, I’d ask Zeus.” His tone was flat, determined. It wasn’t just a promise; it sounded like a vow.

Another silence settled between them, filled with the soft glow of his wings and the weight of his words. Despite everything, her thoughts wound and rippled like ribbons in the depths. I could go on healing… forever, like Epione. Save countless lives. Protect and watch over my order. “And then?”

He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his gaze already mellow, his perfect mouth smiling, making it hard to focus on anything but his flawless features framed with gold, crowned with poppies, backlit by the azure light of his wings. “Then I’d cherish you.”

Her daydream splintered, and she had to hold back from saying, you don’t want me to be immortal for what I could achieve, but because my life is too short for your games.

Another truth surfaced and stung. I’d watch Theron grow old and die…

along with everyone else I love. All my sisters and friends, until I’d be too scared to open my heart to anyone, knowing they would die.

And then… I’d become just like you. With that, immortality suddenly seemed like a curse.

And what was it like to be cherished by him?

She already knew what lurked beneath, ready to surface and snap: the icy ire of a divinity slighted when he’d learned of Theron’s kiss.

And the terrifying fall—his punishment for getting close to another man.

“I didn’t feel cherished the last time we flew together. ”

“I was merely… annoyed.”

“Then I fear your wrath.”

“As you should, Calliste. I can forgive much—but not faithlessness. Don’t do this. You’ll gain nothing by letting him into your heart—and risk everything. Especially since he doesn’t trust you and searches for answers about your life behind your back.”

She swallowed. “You mentioned that. But I don’t know if it’s true.”

“Why would I lie to you? Ask him. Just don’t be surprised by the answer.”

She let out a shuddering breath as the suffocating weight of her secrets pressed down on her.

“If he’s discovered the truth, then I’ll face the consequences,” she replied calmly.

“He’s right, Hypnos. I’m tired of carrying these secrets.

” She glanced ahead at the swirling mists above Styx.

“The Unseen One is expecting us. Perhaps we should go.”

“Then hold onto my neck,” he said, bending forward.

She looked at him from up close. “Would it surprise you if I said that this is no longer my preferred way to travel?”

His brows furrowed. “I had enough control of myself, even in that state.”

“You wanted to frighten me.”

His eyes were frosty silver. “You disappointed me—as you know. But I won’t do it again. You have my word.”

She wrapped her arm around his neck and he lifted her, their faces drawing close.

But his closeness felt different now. She accepted it, but remained wary, trying to distance herself despite the impossibility of it.

When he straightened up, her muscles tensed and she clung to him, briefly recalling the terrifying fall.

“I said I wouldn’t do it again,” he muttered.

“I can’t help it. I thought I’d die then.”

He shook his head, as if dismissing the subject.

In a heartbeat, they soared into the air, gliding through the mists cloaking Styx.

For a while, as they navigated through the dense curtains of mists, she watched them eddy and swirl, stirred by Hypnos’ glowing wings.

It wasn’t the harsh light that matched his anger, but a softer glow.

Hypnos’ hair whipped around his face. “By the by, I wonder what your precious king will say when he discovers I’ve been carrying you to the realm of the gods he despises in my arms ,” he remarked sweetly.

“You think he will be jealous?” She lifted her brow. “Little do you know him. He might not be as possessive and entitled as… some.”

He smirked in reply. “Why would he be different from any other mortal man?”

“Because he understands that I am my own sanctuary.”

Hypnos frowned. “What does that mean?”

“That you carrying me in your arms means nothing. It’s a necessity, and I never thought otherwise.”

“Ah.” That little smirk had returned to his lips. “You have a lot of faith in him, Calliste.”

“I do,” she replied, pushing back against fear. “Just as I once had in you. Time will show if it’s justified.”

His smirk vanished, his expression tensing. He remained silent until the mists thinned, revealing a breathtaking sight: a golden palace perched atop a high hill, surrounded by a sea of white, glowing blossoms.

The court of Hades.