Chapter 44

I sat by Cora’s side, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest as she slept. The hospital had been a nightmare, a twelve-hour ordeal of stitches and whispered assurances that she would be okay. I had never felt so helpless, so utterly out of control. But now, as I brought her back to my apartment, I felt a semblance of peace return to me. This was my domain, the one place where I held all the power, and I would do everything in my power to keep Cora safe.

I settled her into my bed, tucking the blankets around her gently. She was still so fragile, her skin pale against the white of the pillowcase. I could see the dark smudges of exhaustion under her eyes, the way her breath hitched ever so slightly when she moved. But she was here, with me, and that was all that mattered.

I spent the days pampering her, cooking her favorite meals, and ensuring that she had everything she needed to recover. We watched horror movies, her laughter a balm to my wounded soul as she teased me about my choice of films. It was during one of these movie sessions that the sound of a hesitant knock echoed through the apartment.

I glanced at the camera feeds on my new phone, my heart clenching in my chest when I saw who it was. Callie stood outside my door, her expression one of guilt and apprehension. I felt a surge of anger, a burning need for retribution for what she had done to Cora.

Cora must have sensed the shift in my mood because she turned to me, her brows furrowed in concern. “Who is it?” she asked, her voice soft and raspy from sleep.

I could feel the tension in my body, the way my muscles coiled like a spring, ready to strike. I knew that my face had hardened, that the rage I felt toward Callie was plain for Cora to see. But I didn’t want to scare her, didn’t want to bring any more torment into her life.

“It’s Callie,” I said, my voice carefully controlled. I could see the surprise in Cora’s eyes, followed quickly by a wariness that mirrored my own. “She’s the one who… ” I trailed off, not wanting to burden Cora with the weight of Callie’s betrayal.

Cora reached out and took my hand, her fingers cold against my skin. “It’s okay,” she said, her gaze steady. “We’ll face this together.”

I nodded, swallowing down the anger that threatened to consume me. I stood up, my body casting a long shadow over Cora. “Stay here,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper. “I’ll handle this.”

As I walked toward the door, I could feel Cora’s eyes on me, her presence a constant reminder of why I was doing all of this. I had to be strong for her, had to be the man she believed me to be.

I opened the door, my gaze meeting Callie’s. She looked nervous, her eyes darting behind me to where Cora lay. I could feel the anger simmering just below the surface, but I forced myself to remain calm, to keep my emotions in check.

“What do you want, Callie?” I asked, my voice devoid of any warmth. I saw her flinch slightly at the coldness in my tone, but she stood her ground, her expression resolute.

“I came to see Cora,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I need to explain…”

I cut her off before she could finish, my voice sharp and unyielding. “You need to explain?” I echoed, my anger finally breaking through the thin veneer of civility I had managed to maintain. “You almost got her killed, Callie. What could you possibly have to say that would make any of that okay?”

I could see the hurt in Callie’s eyes, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was Cora, about protecting her from any more harm. And if that meant keeping Callie away from her, then so be it.

I was about to close the door in Callie’s face when I felt Cora’s hand on my arm, her touch gentle but firm. I turned to look at her, seeing the determination in her eyes. She wanted to hear Callie out, wanted to understand why her best friend had betrayed her so completely.

I sighed, my shoulders slumping in defeat. I knew that I couldn’t deny Cora this, no matter how much I wanted to. I stepped aside, gesturing for Callie to enter.

As Callie walked past me, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. I didn’t trust her, didn’t trust her motives or her intentions. But for Cora, I would do whatever it took to ensure her happiness and her safety. And if that meant allowing Callie back into our lives, then I would find a way to make it work. For now, at least, we had a temporary truce, a fragile peace that could shatter at any moment.

I guided Cora to the couch, her steps hesitant and unsure. The weight of the past few days was evident in the slump of her shoulders, the way her hand trembled in mine. I helped her sit, tucking a blanket around her legs before I took my own seat between her and the armchair where Callie now perched on the edge, her eyes filled with a nervous energy that I’d never seen in her before.

Callie’s fingers danced an anxious rhythm on her lap, her gaze flickered between Cora and me, as if she was unsure where to begin. Cora, for her part, looked between us with a furrowed brow, her confusion plain on her face.

Finally, Callie took a deep breath, her hands stilled as she squared her shoulders and met our eyes. “I’m an aspect of the goddess Calliope,” she announced, her voice steady despite the absurdity of her words.

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. The sound burst from me, raw and incredulous. Calliope, the Greek Muse of epic poetry and eloquence? The idea was preposterous, the ramblings of a madwoman. “You’re fucking delusional,” I said and shook my head in disbelief. Callie’s surprise at my outburst was evident, but I couldn’t find it in me to care. This wasn’t the time for games or fantasies.

Cora’s voice cut through the tension, her words tinged with worry. “Haides, did you slip me a pain med while I wasn’t paying attention? Because I think I just hallucinated.”

I turned to her, my laughter dying as I took in her wide-eyed expression. “No, Cora,” I say gently, taking her hand in mine. “I wouldn’t do that to you. What you’re hearing is real.”

“Well, you did chloroform me before.” Cora’s tone was light, teasing, but there was an edge to it that made me wince. I’d done terrible things to her, things that I could never fully atone for. But her words, coupled with that playful gleam in her eyes, gave me hope that I might be able to make amends, that we might be able to move past the unorthodox of our beginning.

“I promise to only drug and kidnap you with your consent from now on,” I said, and I meant it. The corners of Cora’s mouth quirked up into a smile, and she gave me a heated look that sent a jolt of desire straight through me.

“It’s a date,” she said, her voice low and throaty. It took every ounce of self-control I possessed not to reach for her, not to pull her into my lap and claim those lips with my own. But then Callie’s fidgeting brought our attention back to her, and the moment was lost.

Callie cleared her throat, her gaze darted between us with an intensity that was unsettling. “I know how this must sound,” she began, her voice shaky but determined. “But it’s the truth. I’m an aspect of the goddess Calliope. Every so often, she gets a little bored and starts playing around with her favorite stories. One of her favorites just so happens to be the love between Persephone and Hades.”

I couldn’t help the skeptical look that crossed my face. This was madness, surely. A myth, a fairy tale, not the twisted reality that I’d come to know so well. But then I looked at Cora, at the way her eyes were wide with a mixture of disbelief and understanding, something clicked into place.

“So, what?” I asked, my voice gruffer than I intended. “You’re saying that you… what? Manipulated us into… what, exactly?”

Callie—or Calliope, or whoever the hell she was—shrugged, a small, rueful smile played on her lips. “When the perfect specimens who so happen to embody the best of both deities show up in the same universe and timeline, Calliope sends an aspect of herself to take over the original Callie, and all I had to do was get you two to acknowledge each other.”

The room fell silent, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air. I looked at Cora, at the way she was chewing on her lower lip, her brow furrowed in thought. I couldn’t tell if she believed any of this, but I could see the gears turning in her mind, fitting the pieces together.

“I regret how I did it now,” Callie—Calliope—continues, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t deny how well it turned out regardless.”

She looked at us then, her eyes filled with a strange mix of hope and sorrow. I wanted to be angry, to lash out at her for playing with our lives like we were nothing more than characters in one of her stories. But I couldn’t seem to muster the emotion. All I felt was a strange sense of calm, of acceptance.

Because, in the end, it didn’t really matter how we got here. All that mattered was that Cora was here with me, that we found each other in the chaos. And if our story was written by the hands of a goddess, then so be it. I’d live a thousand lives, endure a thousand trials, if it meant that I could keep Cora by my side.

I reached for Cora’s hand, our fingers intertwined as we turned to face Callie—Calliope—together. “So, what happens now?” I asked, my voice steady despite the turmoil of emotions roiling within me.

Callie gave us a small, apologetic smile. “Now? Now, you get finish your own story, in any way you find fit.”