Chapter 12 Mortal Masks
Waking up in a Tokyo penthouse was not on my list of expected life experiences, yet here I was.
I opened my eyes to find myself in a massive bed with sheets that felt like liquid silk, floor-to-ceiling windows revealing a cityscape that glittered like a circuit board against the night sky. For a disorienting moment, I thought I'd dreamed everything. Gods, prophecies, mate bonds, all of it just some elaborate fantasy my stressed mind had created.
Then I felt the bond humming at the edges of my consciousness, four distinct presences that anchored me to reality, and I knew it was all terrifyingly real.
I sat up slowly, my body aching in places I didn't know could ache. The combined power I'd channeled during the fight with Selara had left me feeling wrung out, like I'd run a marathon while being struck by lightning. Through the bond, I sensed the others scattered throughout the penthouse, each dealing with the aftermath in their own way.
The bedroom door opened, and Lysander slipped inside carrying a tray. He'd changed into modern clothes, dark jeans and a fitted black shirt that made his color-shifting eyes stand out even more.
"You're awake," he said, setting the tray on the nightstand. "Good. You've been out for almost twelve hours. We were starting to worry."
"Twelve hours?" I repeated, shocked. "Why didn't someone wake me?"
"Because you nearly killed yourself channeling our power," he said, settling on the edge of the bed. "Your body needed time to recover. You're still transitioning, remember? Pushing yourself like that could have permanent consequences."
I looked at the tray and found tea, rice, and what looked like grilled fish. My stomach growled loudly enough to make Lysander smile.
"Eat," he instructed. "Then we need to talk about what happened."
I didn't need to be told twice. The food was delicious, and I devoured it while Lysander watched with that unsettling intensity of his. When I'd finished, he took the tray and set it aside, then turned to face me fully.
"What you did back there," he said carefully, "channeling all four of us through the bond simultaneously. That shouldn't have been possible."
"But I did it," I said.
"Yes. Which means either the bond between us is far stronger than any recorded mate bond in history, or you're more powerful than anyone realized." He paused. "Probably both."
"Is that good or bad?" I asked.
"Depends on whether we can control it," he said honestly. "That kind of power could save us, or it could consume you entirely. We need to understand it better before you try it again."
Through the bond, I felt his concern, the genuine fear beneath his casual demeanor. He was worried about me. They all were.
"Where are the others?" I asked.
"Jeron's securing the perimeter. Theron's gathering intelligence on Council movements. Kael's out acquiring supplies." Lysander's smile turned slightly wicked. "Which means we're alone. Want to know what I learned about you while you were unconscious?"
"That sounds ominous," I said.
"Not ominous. Enlightening." He shifted closer, and I was suddenly very aware that I was wearing nothing but an oversized shirt that definitely wasn't mine. "When you channel our power, the bond opens completely. No barriers, no filters. For those few seconds, I felt everything you feel."
Heat crawled up my neck. "Everything?"
"Everything," he confirmed, his voice dropping lower. "Your fear, your determination, your loyalty. And other things. More interesting things."
"Lysander," I warned.
"I'm not judging," he said, though his eyes danced with amusement. "I'm just saying that if you keep looking at us the way you do, if you keep feeling what you feel through the bond, eventually we're all going to stop being quite so noble about giving you space."
My breath caught because he was right. The attraction I felt toward all four of them was getting harder to ignore, amplified by the bond until it was a constant hum beneath my skin. I'd been pushing it down, telling myself there were more important things to focus on. But Lysander was calling me on it, forcing me to acknowledge what I'd been trying to deny.
"This is complicated," I said weakly.
"The best things always are," he replied. "But Athena, you need to understand something. This bond, what we feel for you, it's not just about destiny or fate. We're falling for you because of who you are. The brave, stubborn, occasionally reckless woman who threw a bookbinding press at two gods and thought that was a reasonable response to danger."
I laughed despite myself. "That feels like a lifetime ago."
"It was three days ago," he pointed out. "Your entire world changed in three days, and you're handling it better than most would. That's remarkable."
"I'm terrified most of the time," I admitted.
"I know. I can feel it." He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my cheek. "But you're still fighting. Still choosing to stand with us even though it would be easier to run. That takes courage."
"Or stupidity," I said.
"Often the same thing," he agreed, then leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. It was brief, almost chaste, but the intimacy of it made my heart stutter. "Get dressed. The others will want to see you're okay, and we need to plan our next move."
He left before I could respond, and I sat there trying to remember how to breathe normally. The bond hummed with his satisfaction, his affection, his desire carefully controlled. This was dangerous territory, getting emotionally involved while running for our lives. But it was also inevitable.
I found clothes laid out in the closet, modern and practical. Jeans, a soft sweater, boots that looked expensive but comfortable. I dressed quickly and ventured out of the bedroom.
The penthouse was stunning, all clean lines and modern luxury with traditional Japanese elements woven throughout. I found the others gathered in the main living area, and they all looked up when I entered.
Kael crossed the space in three long strides and pulled me into a crushing hug. "Don't ever scare us like that again," he said into my hair.
"I'll try," I promised, wrapping my arms around him.
"You better do more than try," he said, pulling back to look at me. His amber eyes were serious. "When you collapsed, when I felt your consciousness fading through the bond, I thought we'd lost you."
"I'm okay," I said. "Just tired."
"You channeled the power of four gods," Jeron said from where he stood by the windows. "Tired doesn't begin to cover it. You should be in a coma."
"Maybe I'm tougher than I look," I said.
"You're definitely tougher than you look," Theron said, his storm-grey eyes warm. "But Jeron's right. What you did was dangerous. We need to train you properly before you try something like that again."
"Agreed," I said. "But first, what's the plan? We can't hide in Tokyo forever."
"No," Jeron said. "But we can use the time to prepare. The Council will expect us to either go to ground indefinitely or make some reckless move immediately. We're going to do neither."
"What are we going to do?" I asked.
"We're going to recruit allies," Kael said. "Starting with the gods who are tired of the Council's tyranny but too afraid to act alone."
"And how do we find them?" I asked.
"We already have," Lysander said, gesturing to a laptop open on the coffee table. The screen showed what looked like a forum, but the language was nothing I recognized. "The divine underground. Where gods and other beings go to speak freely without the Council's surveillance. I've been making inquiries."
"And?" I prompted.
"And there are more dissidents than we thought," he said. "Minor gods, forgotten deities, beings who were cast out for questioning the Council. They're scattered, disorganized, but they're out there."
"How many?" I asked.
"Dozens," Theron said. "Maybe more. If we can unite them, give them a reason to fight, we might have a chance."
"I'm the reason," I said, understanding. "The prophecy. They'll want to see if it's true, if I'm really the one who can challenge the Council."
"Exactly," Jeron said. "But that means putting you in danger again. Meeting with strangers who might betray us for the Council's favor."
"Everything we do puts me in danger," I pointed out. "At least this way, we're building something. Creating an actual resistance instead of just running."
The four of them exchanged glances, and I felt their reluctance through the bond. They wanted to keep me hidden, protected, safe. But they also knew I was right.
"We do this carefully," Jeron said finally. "Small meetings, neutral locations, with backup plans for every contingency."
"I can work with that," I said.
"And we start your training immediately," Kael added. "If you're going to be the face of a rebellion, you need to be able to defend yourself without nearly dying in the process."
"Fair enough," I agreed.
"There's one more thing," Lysander said, his expression turning serious. "The Spire. We still need to reach the Oracle if we want to learn the truth about the prophecy. But the route Nyx gave us is complicated. It'll take time to decode fully."
"How much time?" I asked.
"Days. Maybe a week," he said. "And even then, infiltrating the Spire will be nearly impossible. It's the most secure location in existence."
"Nearly impossible isn't impossible," I said. "We'll figure it out."
"Your optimism is either inspiring or delusional," Lysander said. "I haven't decided which."
"Can't it be both?" I asked.
He laughed, and the sound eased some of the tension in the room. For a moment, we were just five people planning an impossible mission, not gods and prophecies and wars. It felt almost normal.
Then my phone, which I hadn't looked at since Portland, buzzed in my pocket. I'd forgotten I even had it. I pulled it out and found dozens of missed calls and texts from Maya, each one more frantic than the last.
The most recent one made my blood run cold: Where are you? Police found your apartment destroyed. They think you're dead or kidnapped. Please tell me you're okay.
"We have a problem," I said, showing them the message. "My old life is noticing I disappeared."
Jeron read the message and cursed. "We need to handle this. If mortal authorities start investigating, it could draw unwanted attention."
"I'll message her back," I said. "Tell her I'm okay, that I had to leave suddenly for family reasons."
"Will she believe that?" Theron asked.
"Probably not," I admitted. "But it's better than leaving her thinking I'm dead."
I typed out a quick response, keeping it vague but reassuring. Maya deserved better than radio silence, even if I couldn't tell her the truth.
"We need to be more careful," Jeron said. "Every connection to your mortal life is a potential vulnerability."
"I know," I said. "But I'm not going to abandon the people who cared about me just because it's inconvenient."
Through the bond, I felt his frustration warring with his respect for my loyalty. He didn't like it, but he understood.
"Fine," he said. "But no more contact unless absolutely necessary. Agreed?"
"Agreed," I said.
My phone buzzed with Maya's response: Family reasons? You don't have family. What's really going on?
I turned the phone off before I could second-guess myself. She was right. I didn't have family. But maybe, looking at the four gods surrounding me, I was starting to build one anyway.