“No.”
He slid his gaze to Taliyah.
“I’m happy to jump in the ring and do the deed myself,” she said with a firm nod. “But I won’t. Do you know the mantrums I’ll have to tolerate from Commander Drama Queen if I mercilessly slaughter his soldier? No thanks.”
And we’re back to Roc. He grated, “You would force me to select another to perform your duty to the Astra?”
Roc’s eyes narrowed.
“In this, you are not the Commander,” Halo stated. “I am. I won’t choose another, and you won’t ask me to do so. You owe me. Think back to your last blessing task. To bed your gravita, you agreed to willingly abdicate at the conclusion of the final one. Keep your rank and kill me. That is what I want from you. Then, you will do everything in your power to retrieve the Bloodmor from Erebus. You will stop at nothing.” Only then would Ophelia be completely free of the Deathless.
Not being able to leave Harpina to hunt the blade ate at Halo.
His hands curled into fists. Uh-oh. Not so unemotional now, fury and frustration bubbling up.
“And if Erebus chooses your gravita as his champion?” Roc demanded.
“He won’t.” He shouldn’t. But if he did, there was a good chance Ophelia would be transformed into Cerberus, Hercules’s last challenge. Once a hellhound selected prey, nothing dissuaded the creature from its path. And the primordial hellhound at that? He nodded. She would attack—and Halo would let her.
He hoped the god decided to go the other route, however. The thought of abandoning her with such a horrendous memory left a foul taste in his mouth.
An uproar outside the conference room drew his gaze toward the arching double doors—doors now bursting open. Ophelia strode inside the chamber, dressed for war with a group of similarly garbed harpies collected behind her.
Dark hair hung in waves around her delicate features. Slitted green eyes crackled. She was magnificent.
“You want to break up with me?” She picked up a chair and hurled it at him. “Fine. Go ahead. At least have the balls to do it in person.” Another chair.
Halo ducked both missiles, his chest clenching. More fury and frustration bubbled up. Where was his iron control? He used to wield it so easily.
“I’ll do what I must, when I must,” he stated.
Another chair. “I wasn’t done talking!” she shouted. “You’re just giving up? Because a quitter isn’t worthy of being my male!” —You can take your brand and shove it.—
The words filled his head, and he scowled. Remember the goal. Ophelia’s survival, the Astra’s victory. “You will find another male. It is possible for both harpies and nymphs. Upon occasion. Under the right circumstances.” A shout of denial rushed up his throat. He clamped his lips shut.
She flinched a little. Then she stopped, merely dragging her claws over the next chair. “You know what? You’re right. I will find another.”
I will tear out his heart!
“I’m not giving up,” he informed her as calmly as he was able. “I’m doing what is necessary.” Chaos had told him to learn from the test rounds. Finally, he had. The right lessons.
With the lioness, he’d discovered he might not be fighting who he thought he was fighting. Or rather, he should have learned it. He hadn’t. So he’d gotten schooled again with the hydra. But he’d failed to learn a second time.
The next test had taught the same lesson from a different perspective, showing him how his past could be used as a weapon against him. Then came the boar. Another reminder that he wasn’t fighting who he thought he was fighting—and his opponent mattered greatly.
With the stables, he’d learned to never underestimate how low Erebus could sink. The man-eating bird, bull and flesh-eating horse proved sacrifice treated him far better than vengeance. By winning Ophelia’s heart, Halo grew to understand the true prize in any war. When forced to pick between the trio of Ophelias, he’d learned to trust his instincts. They never steered him wrong.
The apple taught him that he could withstand anything—except his female’s harm.
You harm her now, pushing her away.
I save her now.
“Well, isn’t this just great? I pledged myself to a quitter and a fool.” She hurled another chair at him. The other harpies spread out through the room and cheered. “You do not leave the woman who loves you hanging. Especially on the day you think you’re going to die.”
Sweat beaded on his brow, emotions fighting their way to the surface. “I will die. If Erebus doesn’t choose me as his champion, he’ll choose you. If I kill you, I’ll lose more than my life.” He couldn’t continue without her. If something went wrong and she died, he planned to see the Astra through their tasks and follow her. But it wouldn’t come to that. A good future awaited her. In his absence, the Astra would attend to her care.