The Struggle(61)

“It doesn’t have to be painful, but that doesn’t matter now. I would never take that from you. Never again,” he swore, and my stomach dipped, because he said it in a way that left no doubt in my mind that was what he fully intended. “Josie?”

A moment after he said my name, I felt the tips of his fingers pressing gently under my chin. He lifted my gaze to his. “I will never let another thing hurt you again. Never.”

The protective vibe was . . . it was sweet, and seeing the fierceness in his gaze, was also, well, hot, but I couldn’t rely on him to protect me. I couldn’t rely on anyone, and that wasn’t because he hadn’t stopped Hyperion. I was still, no matter what was done to me, a powerful demigod. I didn’t need protection.

Well . . .

That wasn’t exactly true. Right at this moment, I couldn’t fight off a bed bug, which reminded me of something. I glanced down. “These bands—they’re blocking my abilities.”

“What?” Seth took my right hand in his. He frowned. “I tried to take them off, but they won’t budge.”

“I don’t know if they will come off,” I admitted, and my stomach turned over heavily. “Hyperion said they were made of Cronus and Zeus’s blood. That they were what was used to entomb the Titans.”

“Hell,” he muttered, sliding a finger over the band. “We’ll figure out how to get them off. Someone has to know.” His gaze flicked up to mine. “This might be why you’re not healing as fast as you should.”

“I guess.” Being drained of my aether and not being fed any sort of regular meal also probably had something to do with it. Closing my eyes, I pushed those thoughts away before they crowded everything out. I slipped my hand free from his. “How did I get here?”

His features tightened. “I tried to locate you, but I couldn’t feel you anywhere. Dammit,” he growled, sitting back. “I didn’t even know until I went to Malibu just to make sure you were okay.” Looking away, his gaze fixed on the gauze-shaded door. “Then I went to the University. Saw Marcus and Luke—“

“Luke and Deacon are okay? Gable?” When he nodded, relief washed over me.

“Everyone is okay. They are at the University—well, everyone is there except Alex and Aiden. They ended up coming here to tell me you’d been taken.”

“Oh.” I was surprised.

“They’d already left for the island when I went to the Covenant. When I learned you’d been taken, I kept looking for you. The whole god-thing allows me to . . . to sense out people. It’s how the gods can pop in and out, but you were blocked from me, just like the demigods had been blocked.”

Seth could now appear and disappear at will? Why didn’t I get a cool ability like that?

“It wasn’t until yesterday, when I was trying to sense you out and I felt you. Gods.” A muscle flexed in his cheek. “I found you in these woods. Perses—I don’t know if you know who that is.”

“I know him,” I murmured, hitching the blanket up further.

Seth closed his eyes. “I’d helped free Perses, along with Alex and Aiden. I guess once he realized who you were to me, he thought to repay me and freed you.”

“He did?”

His gaze drifted to mine. “You don’t remember that?”

“I remember . . .” I remembered being taken to Cronus again, and he looked younger than he had the last time. He no longer appeared ancient. Skin smoother, black hair sprouting through the silvery white, and muscles replacing frail bones and tissues. I remembered being held down and him feeding—pulling and pulling from me until my vision turned black and there was nothing. There was more—fragments. “I remember Perses coming to me, but I . . . I think I passed out before we left the room.”

Seth was staring at me and he looked like he wanted to ask me something, but changed his mind. “Well, he brought you out, and that’s how I found you.”

Holding the blanket close, I shivered as I recalled him being the one to hold me down. “I guess that was nice of him, but I won’t be thanking him anytime soon.”

“Thanking him will never be necessary.” Seth’s voice was sharp. “He’s dead.”

My chin jerked up. “What?”

“I killed him for what he took part in.”

I gaped at Seth. There wasn’t an ounce of remorse in his tone or expression, but I . . . I didn’t care that there wasn’t, because I wanted to kill Perses. I wanted to kill all of them for what they’d done to me—to Lauren, and would continue to do to Mitchell.