I was suffocating in my own skin.

  Every breath felt wrong, every step foreign. The weight of my own body was unbearable, like I was trapped inside something I didn’t recognize.

  The serpents were gone.

  And without them, I was nothing.

  It had been four days. Four days of silence where there should have been hissing, four days of reaching up in reflex, only to find absence. Four days of trying to pretend I was still whole when I felt like a corpse walking.

  Orion stayed close, but his presence grated against me. He was watching me too carefully, like he expected me to shatter. And maybe I would.

  Maybe I already had.

  The first night after it happened, I barely slept.

  I lay on the floor of the abandoned room, staring at the ceiling, my body unmoving but my mind screaming.

  Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the temple.

  Poseidon’s hand closing around my throat. The gods watching in their cold, indifferent silence.

  And then—Hades.

  His golden gaze searing into me. His voice curling through my skull like smoke.

  “You will come back to me.”

  I woke up gasping, clawing at my skin as if I could tear the memories out. But no matter how hard I tried, they stayed.

  And so did he.

  His presence wasn’t physical. He wasn’t standing in the shadows, lurking in some dark corner.

  He was inside me.

  Inside my head.

  And that was worse.

  The fourth day, Orion tried to talk to me.

  “You need to eat.” His voice was measured, careful, like he was speaking to something wounded.

  I sat by the window of the rundown building we’d taken shelter in, staring at the city below. I hadn’t moved in hours.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “I’m fine,” I murmured.

  “Medusa.” Orion sighed, stepping closer. “This isn’t you.”

  I turned my head slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. “Isn’t it?”

  His jaw tightened. “You’re stronger than this.”

  The words should have meant something. Should have stirred something in me.

  But they didn’t.

  Because the truth was, I wasn’t strong. I wasn’t anything.

  I stood abruptly, pushing past him. I needed to move. To breathe. To get out of this space before I suffocated inside my own mind.

  Orion didn’t stop me. Maybe he thought I needed air. Maybe he thought I’d come back when I was ready.

  I wasn’t sure I would.

  I walked the streets aimlessly, the cold air biting at my skin. The city was alive with people, their faces blurred, their voices merging into an indistinct hum.

  No one looked at me.

  No one feared me.

  For centuries, people had feared me.

  I used to hate it.

  Now I needed it.

  I stumbled into an alley, pressing my back against the cold stone wall, my breath coming in shallow gasps.

  I was unraveling.

  Piece by piece.

  And he knew it.

  The shadows shifted at the edge of my vision. A whisper brushed against my ear.

  “You don’t know who you are without me.”

  I froze.

  The voice wasn’t real.

  It wasn’t real.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “Get out of my head.”

  The laughter that followed was soft, almost kind. Almost.

  “Why should I? I live here now.”

  I slammed my fist into the wall. The pain was sharp, but it wasn’t enough.

  I wasn’t enough.

  The worst part? He was right.

  I didn’t know who I was anymore. Without my curse. Without my monsters.

  Without my power.

  I slid to the ground, my body shaking. The darkness pressed closer, and I let it.

  Let it swallow me whole.

  Because maybe—just maybe—it was the only thing left that felt like home.

  The next time I opened my eyes, I wasn’t in the alley anymore.

  I was somewhere else.

  The air was thick, heavy, scented with damp stone and something ancient. The flickering glow of torches lined the cavernous walls, their golden light swallowed by the black void beyond them.

  A throne stood in the center of the space. Massive. Unforgiving.

  And he sat upon it.

  Hades.

  I knew, even before my gaze met his. I felt him. His presence was like ice seeping into my bones, a suffocating pressure that coiled around my ribs and tightened.

  He looked at me, his golden eyes assessing, calculating.

  “You look tired, Medusa.”

  I swallowed hard, forcing my spine straight. “You did this.”

  His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smirk. “You’re falling apart.”

  I hated the way he said it. So casual. So certain.

  I stepped forward, my fists clenched at my sides. “Let me out.”

  Hades tilted his head slightly, watching me like a creature he was considering keeping. “And where, exactly, do you think you are?”

  I hesitated.

  Something was wrong.

  The world around me was too solid. The air too thick, too real.

  This wasn’t just a vision.

  Hades exhaled softly, as if I had just finally understood.

  “Oh, my dear.” His voice dropped into something richer, something far more dangerous. “You walked right into my hands.”

  My pulse slammed in my throat.

  No.

  No, I wasn’t here. This wasn’t real.

  I turned sharply, searching for a way out—there was nothing but endless darkness. I was trapped.

  His laughter was soft, like a slow, breaking wave. “Now tell me, Medusa.”

  The shadows curled around me, pressing against my skin.

  “What will you do without me?”