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Ouranos sits across from me in Madness. While he appreciates the grandeur of Bow & Arrow, he doesn’t quite appreciate the way Gabriel ventures closer to insanity there.

I didn’t know where my sister ended up.

Terror —and the meaning behind it—was never on my radar.

When I met Gabriel, he told me a vague story of a sex trafficking ring. It didn’t include most of the horrors they both went through. But then learning about it through Artemis, and seeing the shell of the place with my own eyes…

It hurts.

It’s like I’m standing over her hospital bed all over again, trying not to see the white scars on her skin, or the thinness of her frame.

I didn’t grow up with my father. He and my mom split, and he married her mom. They had Lyssa a few years later. My mom and I lived close to them, though. Close enough that I witnessed the aftermath of her terrible trauma. When she was six, she was attacked by a boy. Sodomized, injured, terrified …

My heart aches when I consider her pain. All of it, from childhood straight through to her escaping Terror with Gabriel.

I was too young to protect her, but I followed from afar. Got to know her in the quiet moments of her life. Visited her on the Isle of Paradise, where she spent years living as a teenager. She knew I was her half-brother, even though we only shared the faintest resemblance in our smiles.

Her parents gave up on her, and I took over behind the scenes. I made sure I was listed as her emergency contact with the trauma center, with the hospital and on all her medical records, even her old school.

Just in case.

And then she vanished, and no one could fucking tell me anything.

And it came in handy, because years later, I got the call that she had been checked in. It was like hearing about a ghost.

One condition of working with— for —Ouranos?

He holds all our secrets.

I don’t know if he put together that the Lyssa I lost was the same as the one Gabriel still keeps safe at Isle of Paradise. He hopes that she will one day wake up, and it’s exactly that hope that destroys him over and over.

There’s no escaping his pain.

I… I’ve dealt with it. Sort of.

But Gabriel can’t, and I think it relates back to Terror.

“Kade.”

My attention snaps away from the secrets Ouranos holds, to the man himself. He has a glass of whiskey in front of him, although it doesn’t look like he’s touched it. In the years I’ve known him, one thing is for sure: those familiar vices?

He has none.

“Saint Hart,” he says.

I try not to react, but I find my spine straightening, regardless.

“Tell me about him.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” I reply. “What do you want to know?”

He waits.

The seconds tick past, and I dip my chin.

“He’s a local. He owns a tattoo shop near the college.”

“And…?”

I slowly lift one shoulder. “He makes masks for the Olympians.”

“Don’t make me ask again, Kade.”

I meet his gaze. “I don’t know what else you want me to say, sir.”

He runs his finger around the rim of his glass, seeming to contemplate something. Then, “You know I don’t care about your proclivities.”

I stiffen.

“Men, women. It’s never mattered to me who you like, or why. But I sent you here for a reason. And it wasn’t to play pretend with a local.” He appraises me. He’s got a gaze that cuts straight through bullshit. Lesser men have cracked under such an expression. “Do you know what the worst part is?”

“I’m guessing not.” My mouth is dry. Can he tell?

“You don’t know what he’s done. Clearly .”

“I—”

He leans forward, his hand slamming flat to the table. This is not a man who loses control very often—and I wouldn’t call this that, exactly, but he’s close. A flush creeps up his neck.

It dawns on me that whatever he’s about to say is personal.

Coming to Sterling Falls wasn’t some whim. It wasn’t an ambition on the road for more power, or a place to settle.

Stones drop into my gut.

“Tell me,” I say. I need to know what Saint Hart has done to catch Ouranos’ attention, yes, but I also need to know why I suddenly feel played.

“Oh, Kade,” Ouranos sighs. “Of all the people you could’ve fallen for?—”

Seems he doesn’t know—or care—about my feelings for Artemis.

“—you had to pick the worst. Saint Hart killed my brother in cold blood.”

I freeze.

“What?” I choke out.

He keeps staring at me, like he’s more interested in my reaction than displaying any sadness about his brother.

I didn’t even know he had a brother.

“Kronos ran the Titans,” he says softly. “And Saint killed him. Shot him in the face. I saw my brother’s body, saw the aftermath of that bloody invasion. They came into his house and attacked him and my nephew.”

I ball my fists in my lap.

That can’t be true.

Everything I’ve heard, though, indicates that the Titans’ leader’s sudden death unraveled the gang’s organization.

“I want you to find him,” Ouranos says. “Shouldn’t be a problem, should it?”

I’ve already found him . I keep my expression neutral. No surprise, no horror, no upset . It wouldn’t do me any good. He’s always ruled with an iron fist. Debates end in death. I’ve seen it happen to lesser men.

But I have no doubt he wouldn’t hesitate to stomp out my resistance, too.

“What do you want me to do after that?” I ask quietly.

He lifts one shoulder, then pointedly examine his nails. “Bring him here or kill him. Either option will end the same. It just depends on you .”

Fuck.

I get up and leave Madness. My phone buzzes.

Saint

We need to talk.

My nerves buzz, and I want to yell, No! No, you don’t want to talk. You want to stay as far away from me as possible.

But, in the end, I’m a slave to my master’s wishes.