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Authors: Sable Grace

BOOK: Chosen
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“No,” Kyana whispered. “It was your secret to keep. I'm sorry we had to find out when we were looking for you.”

And truly, she was. Her own past was no better than Haven's. The only difference was, Kyana hadn't been smart enough to make up a better one to answer the nosy questions from others. One that would be retold so many times maybe she could've thought of it as real.

“Where is he, anyway?” Haven asked. “Kevin, I mean.”

“Your father—”

“Kevin. Don't call him my father.” The anger and hurt in Haven's voice chipped away one more defensive wall Kyana had built between them.


Kevin
is Below with the other refugees. Did you . . . did you want to see him?”

Haven looked at her as though she'd lost her mind. “Only if I have permission to kick his ass.”

“Wow. Not kill him? Just an ass kicking? I think you're becoming tame.”

Haven rolled her eyes. “Fuck you.”

And there was the new Haven again. Bad-tempered and foul-mouthed. Maybe she wasn't so bad.

As she pulled Haven to her feet, Kyana smiled. “I'll call for a bath. Consider this room yours until this ordeal is over.”

It would work out well. Kyana's bedchamber was connected by a single door. Haven would remain close, and she'd be able to make sure she was safe at all times. “I'll have a bed brought in too.”

“Thanks.” Haven's hand slid out of Kyana's hold. “Not sure I'll be able to do much sleeping, though. Besides, won't Ares insist on cuffing me to something or sealing the room in some magical prisonlike spell? Maybe you could just give me a dungeon somewhere and be done with it.”

This time, Kyana rolled her eyes. “The Haven I know isn't prone to pity parties.”

Half a smile cracked on Haven's face. “It's probably the last party I'm going to see for a while. Let me have it.”

“Fine, but do it in the bath. You're looking funky.”

As Haven saluted her with an extended middle finger, Kyana couldn't help but smile as she made her way from the room to summon a bath. The middle finger might belong to the new Haven, but the banter they'd just exchanged belonged to the old.

There was still hope, indeed.

Chapter Seven

O
nly minutes after Helios had finished calling forth the sun, Ryker had his council gathered in Kyana and Artemis's temple. He sat on a throne, facing Zeus's half brother Kheiron—the mighty Centaur—who had stepped out of the sky in order to make this council. Word had spread that war was coming—and since returning from the Fates' cave where he'd spoken to Atropos, even Geoffrey was no longer in denial.

“What changed your mind?” Kyana asked, leaning in so the others wouldn't be disturbed.

Geoffrey frowned. “Atropos's souls are exactly where they're supposed to be.”

Surprised, Kyana's mouth fell slack. “That's not possible. Cronos is raising the dead. That means some souls have to be missing.”

“Right. Hers are still intact, but some of
mine
have gone astray.”

Ryker heard this last statement and stopped speaking to the council mid-sentence. “What?”

Sighing, Geoffrey stood and turned his attention to the group before them. “Several hundred of the souls locked in Tartarus have up and gone. Their bodies remain, so it's not another breakout, but they are completely lifeless now. Someone nicked them.”

“Why? I don't understand . . .” This from Haven, who had spent the last several minutes receiving hate-filled stares from the gods as they arrived. At least she could face them clean. She looked a bit more like her old self since her bath, with the exception of the borrowed chiton wrapped around her too-thin frame.

“If Atropos's souls are where they're meant to be and mine are not—it is a simple thing to assume he's raising those with sins on their hands.”

I wish no more blackness on my soul . . .
The man in Haven's dream had said as much. Was that really Cronos's intentions? To find sinners and raise them for his army?

“It's easier to convince those who were evil in life to become evil again,” she realized aloud.

Geoffrey nodded. “It's what I believe.”

Ryker's head was going to explode. The entire room erupted with unintelligible dialogue, sending timpani-sounding crashes through his skull. He could feel Kyana's questioning stare burning through the side of his face—why wasn't he shutting them up so they could get on with the meeting? Simply put, because they needed a minute to come to terms with what the small group at the front of the room already recognized. That war was coming, and that some of them would very likely die when it arrived.

Finally, when the dialogue became vulgar and screeching, he stepped in.

“Enough!” Ryker's tone held no room for argument though many looked tempted. “The point of this council is to let everyone know what's going on and come up with a plan of action to assure everyone stays safe. Us as well as the humans in our care.”

“And how do you intend to do that?” Kheiron stepped forward, his hooves echoing in the now silent chamber. The slight twitch that ruffled his gleaming mahogany coat suggested tension filled him as it had everyone else. “The seas are still dying. Too much damage was done while Poseidon was injured.”

Kheiron was known for his wisdom and everyone seemed eager to hear what he had to say. His crystal blue eyes didn't shine with wisdom right now, however, and instead glinted with anger. Knowing he couldn't silence him, Ryker nodded for him to continue.

“There are so many of us who still haven't been replaced that it won't be long before bits of the world start disappearing altogether. The very stars are going to die out if my own Chosen isn't found soon. The constellations are willing to step from their positions and join the war. But the question isn't how do we survive, it's how many are willing to sacrifice themselves to protect Olympus?”

The chaos that ensued was deafening. It would only be a matter of time before he had a mutiny on his hands. People were going to die, and knowing he might not be able to stop it, didn't mean he wouldn't try.

“Shut the hell up!” Kyana's bellow was such a shock that all sounds immediately ceased as everyone in the chamber turned to stare at her. She wasn't paying any attention to them. Her gaze was locked on Ryker. She knew she'd overstepped her bounds, and the stiffness in her stance said she wasn't going to back down now.

Not that he would have asked her to. He loved seeing her fired up like this. Loved how passionate she was when she truly cared about something. And whether she'd admit it or not, she cared about every single soul filling the room right now.

She turned a glare to the mob. “I wish I could tell you that Kheiron's mistaken, and he's being a horse's ass—no pun intended—for striking fear with his doomsday prophecy, but lying isn't something I do well.”

She held up her hand to stop the shouts before they could start up again. “We aren't going to lay down our weapons and roll over like puppies waiting to be shoved in a burlap sack. We're going to stop Cronos before he can stop us. But, we have to prepare for the possibility of him reaching
some
of us.”

“What about those of us who do not have a Chosen yet?” an unseen goddess asked from the back of the hall.

Ryker had known this question would be brought up. “The Moerae are working as quickly as possible to find everyone a replacement. Their task isn't an easy one. So many have been murdered since the breakout or are still missing. But they're not going to give up searching.”

“Great, but how does that help us? It was made clear from the beginning that the higher gods and goddesses came first on the list of Chosen,” another faceless voice asked. “We lesser deities are just as important. When are we going to be moved to the top of the list?”

This started a whole new round of bickering. Just what he
didn't
need right now. Since he'd already requested the Moerae prioritize based on weakness, not rank, he decided to ignore the question and focus on how they were going to attempt to save everyone.

“We don't know when or even if the strike will come, but we need to guarantee everyone will continue to live on. Even those who fall.”

“And how do you intend to do that?”

Ryker couldn't see who had asked the question, but it was mirrored on every face staring at him. “Once a day, each of you will join those of us who have already begun the process. You will provide a small amount of blood. In the event your Chosen isn't found in time, there will be enough of your blood to pass on your powers when your replacement is found.”

“So your answer is to leave us both weak
and
exposed in the event Cronos finds a way to reclaim his throne?” Hestia asked of Zeus. “Be realistic, brothers. It is
we
who need to be priority. Cronos's children, both old and new. It is
us
he comes for.
Us
he must kill to reclaim his throne. Not the other gods.
His children
.”

The old Zeus didn't stand to address his sister. “It wasn't our
sisters
he tried to kill before, and it won't be this time. It will be his sons, and even we are no more important than anyone else. Yes, he might covet your death, sister, but it is Ryker, Silas, and Geoffrey who hold the power to Cronos's reclaiming his throne. Killing those born of his blood would fulfill only a vendetta and grant him nothing in the way of power.”

“You're a fool, brother,” Hestia hissed.

Zeus glared but remained calm. “The new gods have already begun using this method of blood siphoning to make sure the legacy each of us has carried since the dawn of time continues. The process they've developed will take time to complete, but it will keep you from becoming weak. You will be able to protect yourselves and carry out your duties.”

“Isn't that foolish?” someone asked. “Our powers will be vulnerable in your precious glass vials. What if someone should steal them? What then?”

“I have assigned my most loyal Elite Guard to the task of making sure Olympus is not breached and we all remain safe,” Ares said. “That includes our siphoned powers. Only the main portal to Below will remain functional, and it has been enchanted so only those with the seal of Zeus will be allowed to travel to and fro.”

This caused a slight rumble of discord. The gods and goddesses who called Olympus home had always been able to travel without being questioned. Until this matter was resolved, only a few would be allowed to use the portal at all.

When the grumblings subsided, Ares continued, “As of now, you will not be allowed entrance on Olympus unless you reside here or have the escort of someone who does, and only then if you've been summoned. You will each have a strict schedule for your individual siphoning and you will adhere to it. Do not be early. Do not be late.”

Ryker felt Kyana watching him, along with everyone else in the chamber. This was the only way he could assure Zeus and Hera that their home would remain safe. If either of them took up new residence, pandemonium would likely ensue. Ryker might have Zeus's powers, but Zeus was still the god everyone looked to for comfort. It would be several centuries before Ryker could earn that kind of trust.

“Are those you've assigned to this duty prepared to die to carry out the tasks given to them?” Ryker asked Ares, voicing the question aloud only for the benefit of the others in the room. Ares wouldn't have assigned his men if the answer was not yes. He might suck as a father, but as the God of War, he was brilliant.

Still, the others needed to hear it said aloud.

“They are.” Ares nodded.

“If your best is guarding Olympus, who is going to be out looking for Cronos?” someone in the back of the room asked.


I
will be.” Kyana stepped close enough to the table to press her hands to it and look several council members in the eye. “I'm the Goddess of the Hunt. It is time I start acting as such. There is no one else.”

Chapter Eight

S
ilence greeted Kyana's admittedly somewhat egotistical statement for a good long minute before a voice finally broke the loud hush that had filled her council room.

“There
is
someone else.” The voice belonged to Haven, and all eyes in the room turned to stare at her. “There is me.”

“You?” Ares demanded. “You think we'd risk sending you back to him?”

Haven shrugged, looking more put off than embarrassed by the sudden attention from everyone in the chamber. She looked at Kyana. “I don't expect to be allowed to go after Cronos on my own, and honestly, I'm not stupid enough to try. But I can certainly help. You said there is only you, but you don't have a link to Cronos.
I
do. You need me.” She turned her attention to the crowd. “I was chosen to take Artemis's place once. There had to have been good reason for that. I've been a loyal member of the Order for a long time—far longer than I was ever a threat to it.”

“Ryker, she shouldn't even be here.” Ares's voice boomed loud enough to make the chandelier over the grand table rock back and forth. “She's an abomination—”

“She stays,” Kyana said, moving to the empty spot on Haven's bench. “If she can begin mending the wounds she caused by helping us save the friggin' world, who the hell are we to stop her?”

Ares's face turned bright red, the veins in his neck bulging. “Keep your woman in line, Ryker, lest I do it for you.”

“His
woman
?” In a flash, Kyana was propelled to her feet by anger, her fist thumped against Ares's chest. “I'm a goddess now, asshat. I belong to
no one
and have as many rights as you.”

“Enough.” Ryker took Kyana by the shoulders and steered her away from the conflict. “Haven will be well supervised but . . .” He turned back to face Ares. “She
will
be working at our sides. Jordan's already vouched for her. She hasn't lied to us.”

“Today,” Ares said, every line in his face pronounced as he clenched his jaw. “She hasn't lied to us
today.
She is the reason we're facing this war.”

The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees as father and son faced off, even though Geoffrey was quietly raging enough to heat the entire temple from his place on the dais. Afraid not only of what Ares might try, but also of what Haven might do if her temper was fully unleashed, Kyana made her way to Geoffrey, hoping he could put a balm on the situation.

“Take her out of here,” she said. “I'll come to you when we're done.”

Geoff said nothing, making his way to Haven, obviously having already contemplated getting her out of potential harm's way himself.

When he reached Haven's side, she didn't look too willing to comply, but Geoff took her hand and led her out of the room to Kyana's private chambers.

“If you wish to argue this further, we'll do so in private,” Ryker told Ares. “But I won't be swayed in this matter.”

“You will hear me out,” Ares insisted. “As the God of War, I'll be the one figuring out how to save all our asses. The least you can do is open your mind to what I have to say.”

“Fine.” Ryker nodded to Silas. “Start a round of siphoning on those present. We'll be back in a moment.”

“Great,” Kyana muttered. “But I'm coming too.”

She followed them to the massive library under the stairs and shut the door. The lock barely clicked into place before Ares whirled on Ryker, his eyes dancing with fury.

“You're bound and determined to hate me until the day you die,” he said. “I've accepted that. But do
not
let it cloud your judgment in your new position. You will respect me as a god when we council, Ryker, and stop looking at me like a son pissed off by a father he never wanted!”

Maybe she shouldn't have come. Maybe they should be doing this alone. There was a very distinct glimmer of hurt in Ares's eyes and she was pretty sure he was so consumed by his dispute with Ryker that he wasn't even aware she was there. She started to back toward the door, torn between returning to the council room and remaining in case Ryker needed calming.

In case Ares said something hurtful and required killing.

“This has nothing to do with anything other than Haven's link to Cronos—which we can use,” Ryker said, looking so calm it was creepy.

The topic of his parentage was a touchy one. That Ares had brought it up should have sent Ryker through the roof.

Ares stepped forward until he stood only a couple of inches from Ryker's face. “Strike me.”

Huh?

“What?”

“I said, strike me. We're going to have to work together as peers now that you've taken Zeus's place. I'm no longer your commander, but you are not mine either. Strike me, take out every ounce of hatred you have in that one hit, son, because it's the only one I'll allow before striking back. Whatever you think I've done to you, whatever sort of ways you
think
I've failed you, show me. Do it now, or get the hell over yourself.”

Getting the hell out of the room was looking better and better, but Kyana stayed put. Partially because she was too intrigued to move, but mostly because she was terrified Ryker might take Ares up on his offer. If fists were thrown between them, the contention between the pair would never have a chance at resolution.

“Ryker—” she started, licking her lips as she pondered the words that might pull him out of his own head.

“Don't, Ky,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I won't hit him. If I did, I'd likely kill him, and since he has no replacement, I know how foolish that would be.” He cocked his head, still appearing far calmer than the edge in his voice would lead her to believe. “You raped my mother. Left her to bear me alone, poor and too terrified to tell me why I was so different than the other kids—”

“Ryker, I—”

“Why I was beaten by them every fucking day because of those differences. Then you took me from her so I could become your general. Would you have ever come for me had you not learned I was special? Tell me, Ares . . . how many other bastards did you sow? How many women did you leave so badly broken that the sight of the very child you forced on them sickened them?”

Kyana's heart lurched into her throat, and the need to wrap her arms around him and make this argument stop overwhelmed her. She knew Ryker's anger toward Ares's had stemmed from childhood, knew Ryker believed Ares had raped his mother and abandoned them both.

She wasn't so sure that was all fact. But the last thing Ryker needed was to feel like she was siding with Ares.

A look of utter defeat fell over Ares. He dropped his arms to the side and stepped away from Ryker. “Finally,” he said. “I understand where your hatred stems from. So be it. I am a monster. But I am also a god. You will respect me as such.”

Without another word, he strode from the room and shut the door quietly behind him, leaving Kyana alone with Ryker.

“You okay?” she asked.

He gave a curt nod before turning to face her. “Don't look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I'm something to be pitied. Your past was filled with even less affection than mine.”

Kyana's overwhelming sympathy for him crackled like a brittle twig. “You're angry at him, not me. Remember that.”

He sighed and dug his thumbs into his eyes as though trying to dig out the worst sort of headache. “I know. I'm sorry. Haven will work with us. I'll make sure of it.”

“Ryker, you can talk to m—”

“Let's go back. I want to make sure they're hurrying the siphoning along.”

Before they could return to the council room, a trio of sentinels asked for a private word with Ryker. He gave her a brief kiss before leaving her. Rather than return to the council room, Kyana turned in the opposite direction, needing fresh air to clear her head.

Alone, her thoughts shifted back to Cronos. She plopped down on the marble steps outside so hard, her spine vibrated. She wanted answers now. The sooner they found out what Cronos was up to, the sooner they could kill him for good. She was tired of the conflict he kept stirring within her circle of friends. Tired of the fear his name instilled in her.

For the last six weeks, she'd enjoyed waking to days of learning her new tasks, tedious though some of them were. Before that, an entire month of her life had been given to fearing and hunting Cronos, and now he was back and it was starting all over again.

She heard the door behind her open, heard the soft slap of sandals on marble and instinctively knew they belonged to Artemis. The older goddess placed a hand on Kyana's shoulder before taking a seat beside her.

“Did Ryker leave?”

“The sentinels needed him for something. I'm sure he'll be back.” Kyana offered a weak smile, and Artemis slipped her hand down to find hers. Artemis forced it to the chain dangling between Kyana's breasts and wrapped her fingers around the amulet hanging there.

“Focus your energies there like I taught you. The conduit will ease some of your anxiety . . . enough to clear your mind.”

Kyana squeezed the amber arrow until it punctured her skin, and even then didn't release it. In mere seconds, the knot in her stomach untied itself and whatever had been blocking her lungs lifted, allowing her to take in a gulp of air.

“Will he ever leave us alone?” she asked, her voice as tired as her body suddenly was.

“Cronos?”

Kyana nodded.

Artemis sighed and placed her finger beneath Kyana's chin, forcing Kyana to meet her gaze. “Not until he's gotten what he wants or we've rid ourselves of him again, I'm afraid. But we're not beaten yet, Kyana, so cease looking as though we are.”

A bark sounded from the hedge maze in the center of the gardens, and a moment later, a blur of golden fur flew onto the marble walkway. The clattering of nails on marble, sliding and skidding, thundered in the vast area, followed by the crash of shattering porcelain as they rushed right into the vases at the foot of the stairs.

Kyana had had the sentinels take the tracking pups outside in hopes of burning off some of their ever-present energy, but apparently that hadn't worked. As much as she hated leaving them cooped in their cage while she was on Olympus, she was going to have to put them away unless she wanted to live in rubble.

With a sigh, she bent over and slipped the other chain she wore from around her neck. The golden whistle glinted against the polished stone around her as she gave it two blows and set it on the ground. The lead bitch let out a howl and led her brothers around the columns and inside the whistle.

When the whistle stopped glowing, Kyana replaced it around her neck, where it mingled with her goddess conduit. “I hate caging them up so much.”

“Then train them.”

Artemis's fully grown tracking hounds were now lying at her feet, a trio of well-behaved minions that put Kyana's to shame. “When should I do that? Between this Cronos crap and the things I'm supposed to be learning from you, I barely have a minute to breathe.”

“True, but you'll have to dedicate yourself to both. There is still much for you to learn, Kyana. And with Cronos alive and growing stronger, it's never been more important that you focus. You said in there that it was time you started acting like a goddess. I think you've done well so far, but I do agree it's time for you to step up and learn all you can.”

That didn't help her figure out what the hell to do with her wayward pups, but Kyana was too tired to argue.

Artemis, it seemed, was not at all too tired for lecturing, however. “I've let you slide on overseeing matters of fertility. I still have enough power within me to see to that task while you train in the proper ways to hunt. But eventually, even that will become too difficult for me. Learn all you can to defeat Cronos so I can finally retire, mm?”

“Well, certainly. No problemo. Easy breezy.” Kyana worried at her lip, trying to figure out a way to broach the subject of her own fertility with Artemis, but Ryker's sudden appearance at the gates diverted her attention. He looked upset, all but sprinting in their direction, followed by the sentinels who'd come for him.

“What is it?” she asked when he was within hearing distance.

He stopped, barely out of breath. “War. The Castillo's under attack.”

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