From Darkness (Hearts & Arrows Book 3)(82)

Jon nodded. “And hopefully your dad won’t kill me for dragging you across the country, chasing a serial rapist.”

“Well, let’s be honest. It’s not like he could have really stopped me. When do you want to stop for rest?”

“If you’re okay to drive, I think we should try to stop tomorrow.”

“You’re going to let me drive?” Her eyebrow inched up.

“Only out of necessity. Don’t get any big ideas.” His smile tilted lazily.

“Will you sleep with one eye open?”

“Why don’t you just assume I will?”

Josie laughed and settled into her seat, noting with a certain amount of surprise that she was enjoying herself. She was relaxed, relieved to be in motion. Some of it was certainly adrenaline from the hunt. The rest of it was Jon. Being around him was easy, just like it had been before.

Before.

It seemed so long ago with the soft sunset painting the sky and promise riding the crisp spring air. And she found she didn’t have a single desire to look back.





With every thump of Pegasus’s wings against the wind and the heave of his body in answer, Artemis found herself closer and closer to memories she only wanted to forget.

They flew over mountains capped with snow and over the lake far below, sparkling and shimmering in the wide valley. Everything seemed so small, but it was only her who had changed her viewpoint.

Artemis leaned forward, laying her cheek against his mane, watching the land pass by beneath her, the wind whipping her hair and her robes as the wind rushed past. And her heart lit fire in her chest as she was reminded of Gaia, the Earth herself, and the day Artemis had lost her love.

It was the day she had lost herself.



The heat was oppressive that day. Artemis’s damp hair stuck to her neck as she and Orion trudged through the woods, laughing and talking with Sirius at their heels.

He held a branch out of her way and waited for her to pass with a bow. “My Lady,” he said with a flourish.

She laughed. “So regal,” she teased as her cheeks burned a degree hotter.

Everything had changed since they kissed.

Their bond was stronger, so strong that Artemis knew it couldn’t be denied, and the notion of naming it, of stating what she knew to be true, was more than she could agree to.

But when she was near him, everything was so simple, so easy, so perfectly right. When they were together, there were no questions, no expectations. She was not Goddess of the Hunt. She was only a woman, and he was only a man.

The truth of the circumstance was that she did have responsibilities, expectations.

Because regardless of what she felt when she was with Orion, she was The Maiden, forever bound to her maidenhood. Her Oceanids were bound to theirs, had sacrificed their futures to be with her. And her father…

She shivered in the blazing heat at the thought of her father’s wrath. If ever she chose to walk away from her vows, she would also betray Zeus’s blessing. Her maidenhood granted her the life she wanted, the freedom she desired above all else.

But walking away from her vows was all she found she wanted, spurring questions that clamored constantly in her mind, demanding answers.

Could she be with Orion? Would he want her, could he love her? Could she give herself to him, body and soul? And what would it mean for all of them if she did?

What had once been black and white melted and mixed and changed, and all the lines and boundaries that had guided her were gone.

But as she walked with Orion that day, as she laid her gaze upon his face, she knew a fact that was beyond all doubt and reason.

She was most assuredly in love.

“How many animals do you think there are in the world?” Orion asked.

“Oh, an unknowable number.” Artemis ducked under a branch and ducked away from her thoughts, grateful for a distraction. “Hundreds of millions at least.”

“Do you think we could kill them all?”

She considered. “Well, I suppose so. It would take centuries, but between the two of us, I am sure we could. If you could only choose one weapon, which would you choose?”

“Hmm,” he said as he stepped over a log. “Bow. Otherwise, how could we kill the creatures who fly?”

“Well, if we are together in this, then I would choose a spear. A bow would be unwieldy underwater,” she mused. “Whatever would we do once they were all dead?”

He smirked at her. “Oh, I am certain we could find something to occupy us.”

She opened her mouth to speak, the flush on her cheeks having nothing to do with the heat, but before she could say a word, the ground beneath their feet rumbled and pitched, knocking them off balance and sending them to their knees as Sirius barked madly.

“Artemis, Daughter of Zeus.” Gaia’s voice came from all directions. A rock face in front of them morphed, and Gaia’s face appeared, her eyes glowing like coals. “My children are sacred, hallowed, protected, and you speak of their slaughter as if it were a game. I will not stand for this. You will do them no harm.”

Artemis picked herself up, her hands in front of her and voice strong and sure. “Gaia, we were only—”

“Silence! You mock me with your games, but you are nothing more than insolent fleas who crawl along my back.” Gaia boomed, and the earth shook again.