Page 191 of Blood of Olympus

The smell hit me then. Sulphur and snow — and the agony of frostbitten flesh.

Vel responded likewise, except where Kronos’ beast was ice, Vel was fire. She was rage and heat — a living inferno barely contained by liquidious violet scales.

She roared and the sound drowned out everything else, anchoring me to her. Her whole body vibrated with the force of her fury as she barrelled a minute-long stream of molten fire at them.

The beast responded with force, snapping its teeth at her face while Kronos clicked his fingers once more.

And then we were falling. The last image Vel unwittingly sent me was of them, hovering above us, fresh blood dripping from the maw of the mount.

Velira screamed and her wings fluttered uselessly beside me, the joint broken or torn or ripped out completely. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t see. It was probably better that I couldn’t. The noise was enough. It was failure made audible; sacrifice given sound.

And then we were weightless.

Plummeting.

I’m so sorry, Golden.

Death stirred but it was too late.

Don’t you dare say that, he roared.

Life flailed but it was too late for her, too.

I’ll meet you in the after, I told him.

Turns out regret was the last thing I felt… before…

No! he roared with heart-shattering helplessness.

I’ll meet you on the Isle.

And then everything went finally, blissfully, dark.

CHAPTER 47

Caelus

Today wasn’t going how I thought it would when it began. In fact, it was going far, far worse.

Our warriors were falling in droves, our wounded tally growing, and our dead in grisly piles. Kronos’ army had managed to push past all our defensive lines, forcing us back against the tail end of the Ourean Mountains — quite literally jamming us between a rock and a hard place.

His allies far surpassed us in power and in number, but they lacked heart. In that regard, at least, we were superior.

But what good is a heart against a blade?

From past experience, I knew it stung like a motherfucker.

I had not seen so much as a hair on my mother’s head in months, but if I was being honest, I hadn’t expected to. There’s no way Tartarus Hera would dirty her hands in such an upfront manner like all-out war. No — she preferred to slink behind the scenes and do her dirty work in the dark.

Pity the dark was now my ally.

Even still, darkness was of no aid to me today — not against Hyperion’s overbearing light. At present, he was still fighting against Orpheus’ influence, seething inwardly at us but raging outwardly at his brothers.

A shadow passed overhead and my gaze flicked up as Velira darted into a sharp nosedive, my heart plummeting with her at the thought of how easily my love — my life — could be snatched away from me today.

Nyssa and her dragon fought valiantly against the would-be king, but even I was questioning how much longer they could last.

War was exhausting.