Rhadamanthys approached slowly, spurs quiet against the marble. “There are no crowns on the Styx. Only debts to be paid.Un soldo,un passaggio.” His eyes fell on me. “But justice is a two-way street, amico. Ferrymen, too must pay their toll.” He straightened his jacket and turned to me. "Luka Aleksandar, by order of the Tribunal, I am placing you under arrest for the unsanctioned execution of a director of the Pantheon."
"He kidnapped us," Ana protested, stepping forward despite my attempt to shield her. "He separated us as children. He lied to me my entire life. He turned my brother into a weapon and me into—" Her voice broke.
Rhadamanthys held up a hand, silencing her. "The charges are clear. The law is absolute. The punishment for killing a Director without sanction is execution."
"Then why not just kill me now?" I demanded. "Why the formality?"
"Because justice is not merely vengeance, Luka. It requires... procedure." He glanced between Ana and me. "The Tribunal will convene in three days to hear evidence and render judgment."
"Evidence?" Ana asked.
"If evidence can be presented that Lincoln Mercer violated the sacred codes of the Pantheon, the circumstances of his death might be... reevaluated." His gaze settled on me, something almost hopeful beneath his professional demeanor. "However, without such evidence, the law is clear."
He removed a pair of restraints from inside his jacket. I tensed, ready to fight despite the futility. Ana gripped my arm, her fingers digging into my flesh.
"Don't," she whispered. "Please, Luka. Don't make him kill you."
The fight drained from me. I couldn't leave her alone again, not after just finding her. I allowed Rhadamanthys to bind my wrists, his movements efficient but not unkind.
"And her?" I asked, nodding toward Ana as he secured the restraints.
"Anastasia Mercer will be held as a material witness," Rhadamanthys replied. "Her testimony may prove... significant."
"And Vincent?" The name caught in my throat. Vincent, who would be waiting for me at the Acropolis. Vincent, who didn't even know what had happened here tonight. Vincent, who I'd abandoned after promising I'd return.
Last night flashed through my mind—his body pressed against mine, his heartbeat steady and strong, his hands gentle as they traced patterns on my skin. The way he'd looked at me in the Bosnian restaurant, eyes shining with something deeper than desire as I shared pieces of myself I'd never shown anyone else.
Rhadamanthys's expression softened fractionally. "Dr. Matthews will be informed of your... unavailability."
"Tell him I love him. Tell him I'm sorry I broke my promise. Tell him..." I swallowed hard, memories of Vincent overwhelming me—his laugh, his touch, the safety I'd found in his arms. "Tell him he saved me. That he was right about the boy from Bosnia. That boy survived because of him."
As Rhadamanthys led me toward the elevator, Ana called out, her voice small but determined, "I'll find proof. I'll save you this time."
I glanced back at her, memorizing her face—a face so like my own, yet softer, unmarked by the years of violence that had shaped me. My sister. My twin. The half of me I'd thought lost forever.
Three days, I thought as the elevator descended. Three days until the Tribunal decided my fate.
My mind turned to Vincent again. Would he understand why I'd gone alone? Would he forgive me for breaking my promise to return? In our last night together, I'd tried to show him everything I couldn'tsay—my love, my gratitude, my regret for what might come. I'd held him close, memorizing every line of his face, every curve of his body, storing them away like treasures against the darkness I knew awaited me.
Even as Rhadamanthys escorted me to his waiting vehicle, even as the doors closed and locked, sealing my fate, I felt a strange peace beneath the hollow grief. The eagle had devoured the titan. The cycle was broken.
And as for Vincent... I could only hope he wouldunderstand.
I woke to coldsheets against my skin, my lungs seizing with the immediate, crushing certainty that he was gone.
"Luka?" I called, my voice echoing through our empty sanctuary. The artificial dawn of the Acropolis filtered through the windows, casting long shadows across the rumpled bed where I'd held him just hours before.
Love. That's what it had been. Not passion or physical connection, but something deeper, more profound. The way he'd clung to me, whispering "I love you" over and over like a desperate prayer. The way his tears had dampened my shirt as I'd held him. I'd known it was goodbye even then, but couldn't bring myself to shatter our last moments together with futile arguments.
The special dinner. The memories of Bosnia he'd never shared before. The visit to the sanctuary. The way he'd kissed me, as if memorizing every detail. It all made terrible, perfect sense now.
"No, no, no," I muttered, throwing off the covers and searching the suite with increasing desperation. No note on the counter. Nomessage on my phone. Nothing but the lingering scent of him and the ghost of his touch on my skin.
He'd gone after Prometheus. Alone. Just as I'd feared he would.
I was still standing frozen in the middle of our living room, mind racing through possibilities, when a sharp knock echoed through the suite. I yanked open the door to find Lo, looking uncharacteristically serious in all-black tactical gear, his usual flashy accessories nowhere to be seen.
"Where is he?" I demanded, grabbing Lo's arm and pulling him inside. "Where did he go?"
