Page 111 of The Cursed Chalice

I groan as I finally look at what’s in my arms. Soraya. Her eyes are closed, and her arms are limp.

“Soraya, baby, answer me.” I press my cheek to her cold forehead, shaking.

There is blood, so much fucking blood. She can’t die…she can’t.

“Hecate!” I shout.

Hecate appears and cries upon arrival.

“Do fucking something,” I command. My sight clears, and I see the pool of blood I am sitting in.

Hecate’s breath hitches. “There is nothing I can do, Ares. She’s dead. There is nothing I can do.”

“She’s,” I lift her arm. “She’s not dead. Tell them, Soraya.”

I push away the hair from her face. “Raya, if you leave, you’re taking my sanity with you. I will follow you to death to get it back.”

Her skin feels cold, and her brown tone already darkening.

“Get up, my love. Please.” My hand hovers over her body until it reaches one of my daggers.

I did this. I …killed her. I pull her body into my arms and scream up to the heavens, rocking Soraya’s lifeless form in my arms.

All I can do is scream. I did this. I fucking killed her.

Hecate tries to reach for her, but I hold her closer to my chest.

“Soraya.” I say her name like a prayer on my lips.

The air swirls around me, my muscles vibrate with a pulse I thought I’d lost. Power…my divinity is rushing back into me. Hecate shields her eyes. It’s raw and heavy. I can’t breathe. A roar rips out of my chest, as it settles through my body. I look down at a pale Soraya. Even my godhood can’t defeat death.

“Ares, we have to move her,” Hecate says.

I pull her closer to me. “No, not yet.” It feels like hours since I’ve sitting here on the ground with Soraya in my arms. I remember everything about our fight. I wish I told her I loved her more, that she brought a light to my life. Soraya’s skin feels cold as I hold her, and her head is limp on my chest. Her bloodstains my armor, and for once, I don’t care about its shining glory, only the silence in her chest.

The room rumbles, the ground cracks, and lights shoot out of the cracks. We‘re swallowed in gold and fire until the air thins. It smells cleaner, metallic. Olympus.

Two colossal gold doors appear before me. On them are the victory of the gods over the Titans. They creak open, spilling golden, blinding light.

Trumpets sound out. Choirs rise.

“Olympus, rejoice. Ares, the God of War, has returned.” Aphrodite’s voice reaches through the door.

Rose petals and gold flakes fall from the sky.

I step through the gate with Soraya in my arms. The song dies, and I hear gasps float through the hall.

The gods and demigods all gather in their rows. Their eyes are filled with disgust and pity. Before, I would want to know what they are saying. Now, my focus is on the god sitting at the far end of the marble hall. Zeus sits on the throne, lightning swirling at his fingertips. My mother sits at his right hand; her crown glitters like stars on her head. Zeus is about to lean forward, but she stops him and whispers in his ear.

He exhales and waits.

I kneel before them with Soraya in my arms. My voice moves through the silence.

“Give her back to me. Please.”

Zeus’s face is unreadable. Hera purses her lips. She leans forward again and whispers into Zeus’s ear. Whatever she is saying, her eyes rest softly on Soraya.

Zeus rubs his lips and nods.