xxvii. the oath that twisted fate

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OPHELIA RAN FASTER than she'd ever run, falling to her knees at Jason's side.

"Jason!" she gasped, grabbing his face. His body was steaming, his eyes rolled back in his head. She couldn't see any movement—not even the rise and fall of his chest.

She tried to shake him awake, desperate, silently begging him to open his eyes, to make a sound, to do something—something to tell her he wasn't gone for good.

"You can't do this," she whispered, tears filling her eyes. "Where you go, I go. We made a promise, you can't—you can't leave me like this."

Her vision was blurry, her hearing muffled. She could sense other people around her—more than just Piper, Leo, and Hera. Distantly, she registered Thalia kneeling down on Jason's other side, her hand on his forehead. But it all felt like it was happening on another plane of existence, outside of the bubble that was her impending grief.

She wasn't sure how long it was before Hera's voice broke through the haze. "It's no use, child."

Thalia glared up at the goddess. "This is your fault. Do something!"

"Do not address me that way, girl. I am the queen—"

"Fix him!"

"I did warn him," Hera said. "I would never intentionally hurt the boy. He was to be my champion. I told them to close their eyes before I revealed my true form."

"Um..." Leo paused. "True form is bad, right? So why did you do it?"

"I unleashed my power to help you, fool!" Hera cried. "I became pure energy so I could disintegrate the monsters, restore this place, and even save these miserable Hunters from the ice."

"But mortals can't look upon you in that form!" Thalia shouted. "You've killed him!"

Leo's voice was quiet with dismay. "That's what our prophecy meant. Death unleash through Hera's rage. Come on, lady. You're a goddess. Do some voodoo magic on him! Bring him back."

Their conversation was muffled to Ophelia's ears. She kept her eyes on Jason's face, searching for a sign of life, for anything to quell the deepening pit of fear and grief in her.

He couldn't be dead. There was no ghost, no flicker or fragment of his soul separated from his body. She had to believe that meant he was alive, that he hadn't set foot in the Underworld.

He couldn't be dead. He couldn't be.

She almost collapsed with relief as she saw the smallest sign of life. "He's breathing!" she gasped.

"Impossible," Hera protested. "I wish it were true, child, but no mortal has ever—"

Piper knelt down next to Ophelia. "Jason," she called, her voice strong, steadier than Ophelia had ever heard it before. "Listen to me. You can do this. Come back. You're going to be fine."

"Healing is not a power of Aphrodite," Hera said regretfully. "Even I cannot fix this, girl. His mortal spirit—"

"Shut up," Ophelia hissed, not caring that the goddess could stop her heart in a second. She already had—she'd killed Jason, she'd taken him away from her.

She didn't care if she offended the goddess, not anymore. Not after everything the gods had already taken from her.

"Jason," Piper said again. "Wake up."

Jason gasped, his eyes flying open. For a moment, they were full of light, glowing pure gold. Then the light faded and his eyes were blue again. "What—what happened?"

Where You Go ― Jason GraceWhere stories live. Discover now