Chapter Seventeen

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The Pantheon arrives shortly, asking questions and offering condolences. Their eyes linger on me, especially Skye's, like I had something to do with her death. I look away from the accusing stares, too overwhelmed to do anything about them. The Pantheon leaves not long after arriving anyway, taking Alisha's body and a mourning Jared with them. Before the tearful boyfriend goes, I pick up Alisha's rose and place it in his large hands. He stares at it blankly, then grips it tightly in his fist. He walks away, still clutching the rose to his chest. I stare after them long after they're gone, an ache in my heart.

"Laila? Are you okay, babe?" Theo asks, taking my hand.

At first, I feel vaguely annoyed at his question. Of course I'm not okay! I'd just seen another dead body and talked to her spirit. That's enough to screw someone up for life right there.

I force myself to calm down. He's only trying to help, I remind myself sternly. I turn to him and give him a small, fake smile that doesn't reach my eyes.

"Yeah, I'm okay," I reassure him, squeezing his hand back. He searches my gaze with concern etched into his sun kissed face. To my relief, he looks reassured. Declan, on the other hand, looks skeptical.

My attempts at reassuring my boyfriend are destroyed when Declan snorts, "don't be an idiot, Theo. She's obviously not okay."

I sigh, throwing the demigod a dirty look. I almost got away with it. Thanks a lot, Declan.

Theo releases my hand and takes a warning step towards Declan. His expression is blazing with anger. Declan's dares Theo to act. Oh, no.

"Oh, I'm an idiot, am I? Well, at least I'm not a murderer!" Theo spits the words at Declan, who steps closer to Theo so they're practically bumping chests. I look at my boyfriend in shock. Declan? A murderer?

"What did you just say?" the Underworld demigod growls out darkly. His hands clench into tight fists, a clear warning for Theo to back the hell off.

But, of course, he doesn't. Theo leans even closer, a taunting smile on his face. I nearly gasp as I look into his eyes. I've never seen Theo look so, so mean. The worst part is, he's enjoying it.

"I said that you're a spineless, diabolical, good for nothing murderer!" Theo snarls in Declan's face.

That's when it gets really bad. Declan's fist strikes out and catches Theo's jaw. The fire demigod's head snaps to the side from the force of the blow. Recovering, he touches a hand to his lip. He pulls back fingers with a drop of blood on them. At least, I think it's blood. The sunlight shines on the drop, making it appear almost golden. Theo levels a livid glare at Declan. I squeeze my eyes shut in horror, not wanting to see his fist connect with Declan's face. I can hear the sound of flesh hitting flesh as they fight, spitting, hissing and snarling at each other. The potency of the hate rolling off of them in waves is unbearable. I fear that if this goes on, they'll kill each other.

Gods, is this my fault? Have I pitted these two demigods against each other in my own selfishness? My breathing quickens, in sync with my thunderous heartbeat. How could they hate each other so much because of a girl they just met? It doesn't make sense. Oh, gods, I need to end this.

"Stop!" I yell at the raging men. Declan raises his fist to hit Theo again, not listening to me. Theo's eyes are fiery, as they dare Declan to land another blow. With tears in my eyes, I let out a shaky breath. I whisper, "just stop. Please."

Declan's green eyes, practically glowing with the excitement of the fight, meet mine and the light dims. He looks at Theo and then back to me, blowing out a breath. He lowers his fist and lets go of his grip on the collar of Theo's shirt. The two break apart, still fuming. Their chests rise and fall with rage, nostrils flaring. They glare at each other with an intensity that makes me certain that something happened between them a long time ago. I can't be the only reason why these two demigods hate each other so fervently. I look back and forth between the two, horrified. Neither of them show any remorse for anything that they'd said or what they'd done.

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