Chapter 9
Aletheia's POV
"The marriage has been arranged," Helios continued, as if he were discussing the weather. "The ceremony will take place in seven days. You will accompany him to the Underworld as his consort."
I stared at him. "You're joking."
"I do not joke about matters of the divine realm."
"Matters of the divine realm? This is—" I struggled to find words. "You can't just marry me off to some random Underworld lord without even asking—"
"I can, and I have." Helios's eyes were cold. "This is not a negotiation."
"Why?" The question came out raw, desperate. "Why me? Why not Aurora? She's your actual daughter. She's the one with divine blood. She's—"
"Aurora is already spoken for," Selene interjected smoothly. "Her engagement to Ares was formalized yesterday."
Of course it was. Of course they'd waste no time securing Aurora's perfect future while throwing me to the wolves.
"So I'm the consolation prize," I said bitterly. "The throwaway daughter you can ship off to the Underworld without losing anything valuable."
"You are fulfilling a sacred duty," Helios said. "Every century, Olympus sends a bride to the Underworld to maintain the balance between realms. This time, Zeus has chosen you."
"Zeus." I felt sick.
"The High King's will is absolute."
"And if I refuse?"
Helios's expression didn't change. "You won't."
"Watch me."
"Aletheia." Selene's voice turned pleading. "Please, try to understand. If we don't comply with Zeus's decree, he will punish the entire family. Our estate, our standing, everything we've built—"
"I don't care."
"Grandmother Rhea would care."
The words froze me in place.
Selene continued, tears gathering in her eyes. "If we defy Zeus, he won't just punish us. He'll punish everyone associated with the family. Including those in... vulnerable states."
She didn't have to say it explicitly. The threat was clear: Defy us, and we'll make sure Rhea's sleep becomes permanent.
I felt something break inside me. Something that had been holding on by a thread.
They knew. They knew exactly how to control me. Knew that I'd burn the world for Grandmother, but I'd never risk her.
"You're monsters," I whispered.
"We're practical," Helios corrected. "Now. You will prepare for the ceremony. You will conduct yourself with dignity. And you will not embarrass this family further."
I looked at Aurora, standing there with barely concealed triumph on her face. At Orion, guilt-ridden but silent. At my so-called parents, using the one person I loved as leverage.
"I understand," I said quietly.
Selene brightened. "Oh, sweetheart, I knew you'd see reason—"
"I understand that you're selling me to the Underworld to save your own skins. I understand that you care more about Zeus's favor than about basic decency. I understand that I was never really family to you—just a political tool to be used and discarded as needed."
"Aletheia—"
"Are we done here?"
Helios waved a hand dismissively. "Guards will escort you back to your quarters. You are not to leave the pavilion until the wedding day."
"So I'm a prisoner again."
"You are being protected."
The Withered Vine Pavilion felt even more like a prison now. Guards stationed outside. Windows that didn't quite open all the way. A door that locked from the outside.
I sat on the narrow bed, staring at nothing.
Seven days. In seven days, I would be married to a man I'd never met and sent to the Underworld. A place that made Cocytus look like a vacation.
I pulled out the rusted blade I'd hidden in my sleeve. Turned it over in my hands, watching the dim light catch on the sharpened edge.
One quick cut. That's all it would take. Across the wrist, or maybe the throat if I wanted to be sure. Fast. Relatively painless. An escape they couldn't prevent.
But then I thought of Grandmother, sleeping in her sealed chamber. Thought of Zeus's divine punishment causing her unimaginable harm.
The blade went back into my sleeve.
Through the thin walls, I could hear servants gossiping. Their voices carried clearly in the still air.
"Did you hear? The Nameless one is marrying Lord Erebus."
"The Shadow Lord? The one who commands the dead?"
"The very same. They say he's killed more gods than he can count. Drenched in blood from hundreds of battlefields."
"Poor thing. She'll be lucky to survive the wedding night."
"If she even makes it that long. I heard the Ashen Fields are worse than Cocytus. Nothing but darkness and screaming souls."
"Better her than one of us, I suppose."
I closed my eyes and tried not to listen. Tried not to imagine what awaited me. Tried not to think about how I'd gone from one frozen hell to another without ever tasting freedom.
Seven days. I had seven days to prepare myself for whatever came next.
Seven days to accept that I would never be free.
The days blurred together. Morning light I couldn't escape. Divine food I didn't eat.
On the third day, I heard music drifting across the estate. Laughter. Celebration. They were preparing for Aurora's wedding—the grand, glorious union of the Dawn Maiden and the War God.
My wedding would happen the same day. A footnote to their celebration. The unwanted sister being shipped off to darkness while the golden child basked in light.
Poetic, really.
On the fifth day, Selene came to my room with an armful of fabric—a golden gown encrusted with gems that caught the light like captured stars.
"For the ceremony," she said, laying it across the bed. "I had it made specially. You'll look beautiful."
I didn't touch it.
"Get out."
"Aletheia—"
"Get. Out."
She left the dress and fled.
I stared at the golden gown, this beautiful torture device they expected me to wear. Touched one finger to the hem and felt the immediate sting of holy energy against my corrupted skin.
They wanted me to suffer. Even now, even at my own wedding, they wanted me to hurt.
The seventh day arrived too quickly.
Servants came at dawn to prepare me. They stripped away my simple clothes and forced me into the golden gown. Every inch of fabric that touched my skin felt like heated metal, but I bit my tongue and endured. Showed them nothing.
They painted my face. Arranged my white hair into an elaborate style. Hung jewels from my ears and throat.
When they finally finished, I looked in the mirror and saw a stranger. A pale ghost dressed in gold, eyes empty, expression blank.
Perfect.
The servants led me through the estate toward the temple. I could hear the celebration already—music, laughter, the sound of hundreds of divine beings gathered to witness Aurora's perfect day.
My feet moved automatically. Left. Right. Left. Right. Each step sent pain shooting through my ankle, through my skin, through every part of me that had been broken and badly mended.
We entered the temple through a side door—couldn't have the Nameless one walking down the main aisle, after all. I was positioned in a corner, half-hidden behind a column, while Aurora made her grand entrance.
She looked radiant. Of course she did. Her gown was woven from moonlight and starfire, her golden hair crowned with laurel leaves. She practically glowed as she walked down the aisle toward Ares, who stood at the altar looking every inch the conquering hero.
The ceremony began. Hera herself descended to bless their union, golden light pouring over them like liquid sunshine. Gods and goddesses lined up to offer gifts—olive branches, love tokens, sacred instruments.
And through it all, I stood in my corner, burning in my golden prison, waiting for my own ceremony to begin.
The whispers started soon enough.
"Is that her? The Nameless one?"
"God, she looks like a corpse."
"Trash for the Underworld. How fitting."
"I heard Lord Erebus kills gods like cattle. She'll be lucky to survive the wedding night."
"Probably a mercy, really. Better than living with that kind of shame."
Laughter. More whispers. I let the words wash over me. Soon, none of this would matter.
Aurora and Ares's ceremony ended. The music changed. Became darker, slower. My turn.
The crowd parted, creating a path from my corner to the altar. I started walking, each step agony, the golden gown burning hotter with every movement. I could feel eyes on me—curious, pitying, disgusted.
"Poor thing."
"An offering to the Underworld, nothing more."
I reached the altar and stopped. Waited.
The temple doors remained closed. The Underworld lord hadn't arrived yet.
The whispers grew louder.
"Maybe he won't come."
"Who would want something like that?"
"Even the Underworld rejects her, haha—"
BOOM.
A low, bestial roar echoed from outside the temple. The ground began to shake. The temperature plummeted, my breath forming white mist in the air.
The sacred flames began to flicker. Flowers wilted in their vases. Olympus's eternal daylight seemed to dim.
The doors exploded inward.
Three massive hellhounds burst through, pulling a chariot of black obsidian. Their eyes glowed like burning coals, saliva dripping from jaws that could swallow a man whole. The chariot stopped at the temple entrance, and a tall figure stepped down.
Erebus.
