When Ava woke up the next morning, she was head deep in a pillow full of feathers and on a bed she didn't recognize. Her arm ached and throbbed to the rhythm of her heartbeat. She clenched her teeth. An ace bandage wrapped her upper arm, applying pressure on the wound, but the pain didn't stop. It was too deep in the skin and would take longer than a day to heal. If she were immortal, it would've healed by now.
Medical equipment surrounded both sides of the classic damask bedding, made for a queen. Caterina laid on her side, next to Ava. Silky brown hair flowed down her back as if angels placed it there. She took a deep breath, the beeps on the machine increased.
Her blue eyes met Ava's before she took her hand. "You're awake."
"The pain woke me up." Ava gently held her mom's fingers. They were soft and fragile, nothing like Marc's or Mika's hand. "How did I end up in your room?"
Caterina slowly sat up and used the headboard as her back support. Aged old rings spread across the length like a smooth slab. "Josh brought you here. He told me you needed some one-on-one time with your mom to keep you out of trouble." She patted the bed next to her. "Come. Tell me what's wrong."
Ava wanted to ask her why she kept the gods and reapers a secret, but it would be pointless. Caterina always protected Ava and Gio in her own way. No matter how many times they protested, she told them it was a mother's duty to protect her young.
So Ava shifted around on the bed and scooted closer to her mom. The mattress sunk in under their weight. The pillow was too soft for back support and the room too quiet. At least the comforter kept Ava warm.
She stuffed a hand under her pillow to get it firmer and found a switchblade stashed away in the pillow case. It made her smile. "Mom, do you think it's okay to trust the twins?"
Caterina's plump lips pressed into a firm line. A cold and calculating look crept onto her youthful face, an expression she wore when she dealt under the table.
She picked up a glass of water sitting idle on the nightstand. Water accumulated at the base, and as she took a sip, drops soaked the comforter over her petite waist. "I've always let you be close to Marc because we need to maintain a close connection with his grandparents. Gaining the trust of a few more Ama princes will secure it."
She set her glass back down, then looked Ava straight in the eyes. "But that's my work talking. What does your gut instinct say?"
Ava stretched her fingers out across her lap. She hated this. She just wanted her mom to tell her what to do and what was best, but it always came back to her education. Caterina constantly groomed Ava to be a leader and not a follower.
"Sam has been reliable. He's had my back and can keep up in a fight," Ava said after some much thought.
"And what about Mika? Gio's been telling me you two have been arguing."
Mika's sad smile, all that blood, it wouldn't leave her mind. He was like a worm, burrowing his way into Ava's mind. No, a hornet, stinging her in all the wrong places. No, even that wasn't right. Why couldn't she just let things go? Why did she have to keep pushing his buttons?
"I might have made things worse last night." She dragged a hand through her tangled mess of hair, then stopped mid-stride as she realized what she just did. Damn Marc.
Caterina took Ava's hands in hers. "I wouldn't worry about it too much, honey," she said. "Sometimes in our most vulnerable times, we find trust in those we're uncertain about."
After a while, Caterina let her go to scoot towards the edge of the bed, but her movements were weak and her arms shook. She struggled just to sit straight with no support. "Now let's go make sure these boys aren't burning down my new kitchen. I'd hate to inconvenience Gregori any further than we already have."
"I'm sure Josh is ordering takeout as we speak." Ava laughed.
Her mom joined her in a fit of laughter, but even those quickly turned into hoarse coughs. Drops of marigold blood dripped on her silk nightgown. She covered her mouth, took two deep breaths, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't helping. Ava grabbed the oxygen mask off the nightstand and turned the dial exactly how Leo taught her.
Caterina took deep, steady breaths into the mask. This time, it immediately relaxed her and swept the coughs away like dust under a rug. "I'm fine. It's just a cough. You don't need to worry. It will be a long time before death comes for me."
Ava would always worry about her. What happened when her coughing got worse? When she needed ventilation because she couldn't breathe on her own? Ava's greatest fear was finding her mom in a coma. That she'd never get a chance to say goodbye.
But there was nothing she could do about it. There was no cure for this disease. If her mom had given birth to Gio in a sterile environment instead of the woods, she never would've been infected with atmospheric poisoning. If she had never come to Earth, this wouldn't have happened. Maybe she'd be living a normal life with Gio, some place safe.
Caterina laid back, deciding to rest longer than go out and eat with everyone. Ava squeezed her hand before heading for the door. "Honey, there's one more thing," her mom weakly said. "The Ama may be at odds with my husband's family, but that also doesn't mean we have to choose a side."
She didn't just mean the Ama, but the UFE as well. "I understand."
Ava left and immediately bumped into Darious. A flash of cool pricks ran across her skin. Startled, he stepped back, taking a quick glance into her mom's bedroom before she shut the door. Ava narrowed her eyes on that golden mask. This was too perfect timing. Was he listening in?
Darious cleared his throat and straightened out his pullover sweater. "Before you accuse me of anything, my room is next door."
Sure enough, there was a door at the end of the hall next to a small decorative table, and two other doors across from theirs. If Darious was up here, then the other rooms were for Marc and Josh, which meant Ava was stuck with the twins in the basement.
"How is your arm doing?" His cool fingers suddenly grazed her wound, and she flinched. Her face burned—she quickly walked away.
Darious followed close behind. "Did you take any medicine for it?"
Ava stopped in the middle of the foyer and gently touched the bandage—watched as the particles of dust floated about the afternoon sun. The pain throbbed into her fingertips. "I'm fine. I don't need any painkillers."
He blocked her view of the glass dining table and its cushioned chairs. "You don't look fine. Maybe I can help you numb the pain—"
"I said I'm fine." Darious reached out again. Ava slapped his hand away this time.
"What's going on?"
Josh appeared from the kitchen, holding a brown sack in one hand, beer in the other. His heavy snake skinned boots clomped against the wood floors until he stopped right by them and stared Ava down. His bloodshot eyes were intimidating, swirling with disappointment and toxic annoyance from waking up with a hangover. For those brief seconds, she forgot her pain.
"Maybe you can talk some sense into her." Darious placed both hands on his hip. "Her arm is still hurt from last night. She needs a numbing agent."
"Is that what you want, Ava? Because I can call Leo for you." Josh swiped out his phone, dangling it by his ear. She shook her head no. "Great! Then let's eat."
Josh sat at the table and dropped the sack with a thud. He was quick to snatch two foiled wrapped tacos, quicker to pop open a bottle. The bitter scent of liquor ran down his bobbing throat until every last drop was finished.
Darious walked towards him like he wasn't done talking yet, but Marc grabbed him by the shoulder. He stood next to Ava, erasing the chills from earlier. "On Earth, they learn obedience through pain," Marc told him. "It's better to just let it go."
Darious didn't look too happy to hear this, and it was understandable. He wasn't from Earth, but that didn't change anything. The pain taught them discipline. It taught Ava the meaning of strength and gave her the confidence to stand at death's door. Without it, she wouldn't feel human—she wouldn't feel alive.
After filling up a glass of water, Ava sat next to Josh. The foils unwrapped into its own cheap plate, steam wafting around him in a delectable aroma of crispy bacon. He took out two more and set them on the table for Ava to eat.
It hurt to open. It hurt worse when she took a bite and it burned her throat. Moving was like being stabbed with a toothpick. After two painstaking bites, she chose to eat one-handed, resting the bad arm in her lap. God, who knew eating could be so hard.
Marc and Darious shifted in their seats, trying to keep space between them without making it obvious. They were like salt and pepper, easily distinguishable by their clothes and hair. Yet, their stiff postures were the same—arrogant and obnoxiously groomed.
Ava couldn't look at Marc. He never came by her room after dumping her out in the middle of nowhere. He didn't even attempt to apologize for his secrets—for keeping quiet about the gods and reapers. His betrayal hurt worse than it did with her mom.
Darious picked at the food with a fork like he was getting ready to dissect the contents. "What is this?"
"Breakfast Tacos," Ava said. "It has eggs, bacon, and salsa. You eat it like this."
She held the rolled tortilla in one hand and he mimicked, cracking an incredulous laugh before biting into it. Then asked Josh if there were any more salsa because it wasn't hot enough. This guy was unbelievable.
"How is this not burning your mouth?" Ava took a large gulp of water while he took a large bite with added salsa.
Darious dabbed his mouth with the cloth napkin. "There's an art behind mixing and preparing spices. On Amaranthine, we base our most exotic foods on the level of potency. It's such a big part of our culture, we take one week out of the year to celebrate it."
He paused to fill his glass to the top, chipped ice floated like miniature icebergs. With how skinny the glass stem was, it'd take one push to topple over. "I'm shocked Marc didn't tell you about this. I heard he loves telling you stories," he said.
"I must have missed it between him telling me about you and our plan to fight against the gods and reapers."
Josh choked on his beer. He wiped the spit off with the sleeve of his jacket. "Did you just say fight?"
"We're not fighting the gods and reapers," Marc plainly stated. He pushed his long sleeves up to his elbows and unwrapped a second breakfast taco.
"And why not? Zephyrus is a god. He's been attacking this planet for eighty years now. Who knows what other gods are helping him do it."
"Zephyrus is only doing his job as the Primordial Head Advisor. It's no different from when your mother advises Gregori," Darious said.
Ava slapped the taco on the foil. "Don't you dare compare my mom to that murderous snake!"
He smoothly took a sip of water before adding fuel to the fire. "Your mother is a Prim, and a traitor to her own people. I bet she has killed millions giving away Primordial secrets to Gregori. So, no. She is no different from Zephyrus."
"Shut up!" Josh shoved his chair back and pointed a nasty finger at Darious. "I don't wanna hear another peep out of you! Or so help me God, I'll make sure this fist is the last thing you'll ever see!"
Marc sighed against his half-eaten taco. "Josh, you can barely stand straight. I doubt you'll land a punch on him."
"Are you challenging me, four-eyes?" Josh snapped back, a fist ready in the air.
"Enough!" Ava slammed her good hand on the table. Darious' glass tipped over, drenching everything in chipped ice and water.
Josh cursed. Darious stood. Marc was already in the kitchen grabbing towels from the cupboard. Ava slipped away towards the staircase. They could leave the mess for all she cared.
When Ava turned the corner of the stairs, Gio leaned against the wall, halfway up, with his arms dangling off his sweatpants. His silky hair was already spun up in its bun, still frazzled in places he missed. He just woke up.
"You know, what he said is true. Mom is a traitor," he said, eyes downcasted. "I guess that makes me a traitor, too."
Ava grasped his face, hoping he'd listen, but he still wouldn't meet her in the eyes. "Gio, you are just as much a human as me, if not more. Never forget that," she said. To the top of the stairs she yelled, "He can say whatever he wants, but that doesn't mean we have to listen to him. Asshole!"
Her feet smacked the wood as she stomped downstairs. A cool line separated the basement from the warmth of the top floor. Goosebumps rose on her arms, multiplying the further she went. It cooled off her temperament, but not enough to distinguish the flame that grew inside.
She practically crashed through the glass door of the gym to get out of the cold. It was warmer here, heated the room from nature's light cooking the opaque glass wall and the exercise equipment off to the side. Like most of the house, the UFE renovated it to accommodate their stay here for a long time. But Ava wasn't training indoors today.
Displayed along the wall were unique swords and axes. Their blade's gleamed off the morning sun, heightening their dangerous intent. Ava searched the rows until she found the archer's bow. She snatched it off its stand and grabbed a bag of arrows that leaned against the corner in their quiver and a bag of sharp daggers off the shelf.
The snow—or this wound—wouldn't stop her from getting some training in.
With her weapons in tow, Ava hurried down the hallway to her room—her new jail cell. She sensed someone standing there on the other side of her door and hesitated to open it. She knew exactly who it was. His unwavering soul always caught her attention.
Back at her old house, she'd lock him out with the barrier whenever they fought. Out here in the middle of nowhere, there was no barrier. No way to keep him out. None of the doors had keyholes. Not even a lock. She couldn't run from him anymore.
After taking a deep breath, she opened the door. Marc stood by the couch, holding a bouquet of freshly cut red roses. He glanced at the bow and arrows hitched over her left shoulder but didn't utter a word. The silence held their tongues until Ava shut the door.
"I'm sorry," he said, stepping closer. She stepped around him and grabbed her running boots at the foot of the bed. But then she stopped and stared at them, the stress on her shoulders was becoming too much.
"Were you ever going to tell me?" she asked.
Marc carefully set the roses on the bed, keeping his gaze down. His silence was enough. No, he never would've told her.
"There are some decisions I have no control over. I know it's not an excuse, but I wanted to tell you. Every day," he said. "So I did the only thing I could. I told you stories, instead."
"I can't believe this. I trusted you and you betrayed that trust. And you still have the gall to blame your grandfather." Ava scoffed. "Come on, Marc. You've been breaking the Ama rules ever since you got here. So what's the real reason you kept it from me?"
He clenched and unclenched his fists, a wrinkle developed on his forehead. One, out of habit, she'd tease him about, but not tonight. He was thinking and overthinking, straining himself until his tight lips finally parted.
"The gods and reapers are both vile creatures in their own way. Their very existence has changed the order of the universe in ways I can't explain. They shouldn't exist. It's unnatural. And yet..."
He started pacing back and forth between her bed and the coffee table. His hands frantically combed through his hair. "I've seen what they can do, and it's terrifying. I thought I could protect you from them—from that life. I thought if I told you how kind and heroic they are, you wouldn't turn into them."
Marc stopped to face Ava. He gently took her right hand, wrapped his poetic fingers around hers. She flinched from the wound and he let go. A troubled expression crossed his face like he felt the pain on his own skin.
"I know I've hurt you and there's nothing I can do to make up for it," he said. "But you have to understand. After you lost control, I was scared. I'm—"
Ava cut him off with her hand. The time for apologies was over. "What do you mean from that life?"
"You haven't put it together yet?" he asked, searching her stern gaze. "Ava, why do you think you're able to control a gods' weapon?"
"Because I matched up with the weapon. That's the whole reason I'm alive. I was the only baby who accepted it. No one else. Just me!"
Her lips trembled, tears collected in the corner of her eyes. No, it couldn't be true. The words stuck in her throat, but she still managed to gasp it out. "It's because I'm a god. That's it, isn't it?"
It had nothing to do with her DNA and everything to do with luck. She sat on the bed, fearing she might collapse on the floor. This whole time she searched for that reason, for why she lost control, and this whole time it was right under her nose.
I'm a god. The words were an anomaly to her brain.
Growing up, Caterina taught Ava to put her faith in the stars because they were always there as a beacon of hope for any wandering soul. It was a belief she held close to her heart. It helped guide Ava when she was lost and when she searched for a way to escape this world—if only temporarily.
But a god. That whole concept was foreign to her. Gregori and Josh worshiped a god. What gave salvation to many. No, Ava wasn't a god. It was too simple. Life wasn't that easy.
"If I'm a god, then why can't I use the last stage of my weapon?" she quickly asked because that was the real reason she needed to gain control. It wasn't to protect her loved ones, it wasn't to protect this planet. She wanted to control the very power of this weapon.
The UFE called it the Seventh Sin—a sword that could kill any immortal and keep them dead. To control this power would make Ava unstoppable. No one could stop her, not even Zephyrus. She could end this war in an instant.
Imagine what else she could do with this kind of power.
Marc sat beside her. His warmth and attractive wildflower scent enticed her closer, to wrap her arms around him and run away from this world. Instead, she held back.
"That's because you haven't awakened yet," he said. "Every god awakens by a trigger. But there's no telling which god you are until then."
That made her pause. "How do you know this?"
He pursed his lips like he already said too much, but he always said too much growing up. It never stopped him then, it wouldn't stop him now.
"My family is the protector of the gods' weapons. It's our business to know what happens to those weapons when a god awakens and dies," he said.
Another secret, another exposed lie. Ava swallowed down the venom, and said with a steady voice, "Then you must know what god I am. You must know how many gods there are, right? Maybe we can find out through a process of elimination and—"
"Ava, I don't have access to the gods' information. And I won't until I'm crowned King." Marc sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair for the millionth time. "I wish I could do more for you, but I can't."
The silence washed over them once more, and this time, she welcomed it. Those words hurt more than he'd ever understand.
Marc brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, caressed her cheek. His gaze lulled her back to his side like it did in the garden. A hypnotizing spell even she couldn't break out of. No matter how much it hurt, her heart warmed, and she knew if she just leaned in a few inches, she'd finally taste those lips.
But Ava stopped. She wasn't sure about her feelings. She wasn't sure if she could trust herself to make the right decisions anymore. And she was still mad at Marc.
Ava put on her running boots. With their self-controlling temperature, these were the best shoes to wear out in the snow. The best to outrun Marc. "I'm going to train outside."
He stood when she stood. They've been so distant lately, she forgot how tall he was. He almost towered over her. It was a little daunting.
"I was only trying to protect you," he said. "You have to understand."
"That's the thing, Marc. I don't need your protection. What I need is for you to be honest with me. To be there for me when things get rough. But you weren't. You left me. And now, I'm just trying to find the missing pieces," she said and went straight for the stairs.
Since Marc obviously didn't want Ava involved with the gods, it meant using other resources to get the information she needed. It meant getting her hands even dirtier. There was more to the story about her creation than what he let on. She'd stop at nothing to uncover these secrets.