Persephone's Point of View
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I slowly pushed myself up from where I had been sitting, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over me as I stood. My head spun uncontrollably for a brief moment, and I had to steady myself, my hand reaching out for something to grasp. The room tilted around me, as if the entire world had momentarily lost its balance, and I was just one fragile piece in the middle of it all. The sensation was disorienting, unsettling, and I could feel my legs wobble beneath me as I tried to anchor myself in place.
For a moment, I wasn't sure if I could stay upright. I forced myself to breathe, slowly and deeply, trying to steady the chaos inside my mind and body. The dizziness lingered, refusing to dissipate completely, but I could feel it fading bit by bit as I concentrated on my breath. With each deep inhale, I fought against the overwhelming fog that threatened to consume me. The room came back into focus, the sharp edges of the furniture and dim lighting gradually taking shape again. Still, the discomfort remained, like an invisible weight pressing against my chest.
I reached for the bottle on the nearby table, my hands trembling just slightly as I unscrewed the cap. It was a subtle shake, but it felt like the whole world could see it. I didn't hesitate for a second before I took a long, sharp swig of bourbon, swallowing half the bottle in one go. The familiar burn of alcohol hit the back of my throat, its sharp sting cutting through the haze in my head.
As the warmth spread down through my chest, I could feel the tension start to melt away, if only for a moment. The contrast between the fire of the bourbon and the dull ache still lingering in my mind was almost soothing, like the alcohol could somehow erase the weight of everything I was carrying. I closed my eyes briefly, allowing myself a moment of stillness, before reality began to creep back in, like an unwelcome guest barging through the door.
"Sister?" The voice cut through the fog in my mind, laced with concern and a trace of confusion. It was Apollo. I knew that tone of voice well—it was gentle, but insistent, and it had a way of digging into places I didn't want to be touched. It was the kind of voice that demanded answers, even when I had none to give. "What happened in there?"
I clenched my jaw, the muscles tightening until it almost hurt. My expression remained cold and distant, though I could feel the tension building inside me like a storm waiting to break. I fought to keep my face neutral, but it was a struggle. I couldn't—wouldn't—let them see what was really going on, the rawness I kept buried deep inside. I wasn't about to open up about this.
Not now, not ever.
"It's none of your business," I snapped, trying my best to hide the weariness that weighed me down. I kept my back turned to them, focusing on the quiet hum of the room, anything to distract myself from the conversation. "What happened in there is a matter that only concerns the next ruler. I don't want to think about it either, so do me a favor and don't bring it up again. Don't ask me about this." My voice was cold, each word laced with finality, but my body was tense, betraying the effort it took to maintain control.
I could feel the walls around me closing in, and I needed to keep them out, needed to shut them out before they could break me down.
"But something bad happened, didn't it?" Apollo's voice didn't back down. It was still gentle, but now it had a hint of knowing, like he could sense that something wasn't right. I could almost feel the weight of his gaze on me, though I refused to turn and meet his eyes. I wouldn't let him see the vulnerability I had locked away, buried deep within me where it would never escape. "What happened? Talk to me, Persephone."
"Was that why it took you ten extra days to come down the mountain?" Atlas added, his voice sharp and filled with suspicion. It was a challenge, the way he said it. His curiosity was almost daring me to admit something, to crack open the shield I had so carefully built around myself. The accusation hung in the air like smoke, curling around me, suffocating me, and I hated it.
I let out a bitter laugh, harsh and mocking. It was the kind of laugh that I knew would cut through them, pierce their pretensions and force them to realize that they had no idea what was going on.
"It's the most dangerous place on Earth, what did you expect?" I didn't bother to look at them as I spoke, rolling my eyes even though they couldn't see it. "Did you think it would be some smooth climb, like a friendly marathon?" I shook my head, the bitterness in my voice clear. "You really think I'm going to tell you everything, just like that?" I took a deep breath, my voice growing quieter, more serious with each word. "I'm not talking about it. Not now, not ever. No matter how many times you ask, I won't say a word. What happened in Draki Mountain is mine to deal with, and mine alone. And it'll die with me. Do you understand?"
"But we're your brothers!" Apollo's voice had shifted now, frustration creeping in. His calm façade was slipping, replaced by something raw, something real. His fists clenched, the tension in the air thickening with every second. I could practically feel the energy building between us, crackling like electricity, ready to explode.
"One more reason to keep it a secret," I said softly, my tone quieter now but no less resolute. The words came out with the force of finality, and I could hear the unspoken plea in Apollo's voice. But I wasn't going to give in. I couldn't. "Don't press me on this, Apollo. You don't want to hear it. Nothing good will come from it." My voice held an edge now, a warning, and I turned just enough to show them that I meant it. But still, I kept my back to them, the unspoken message clear: don't cross this line.
"Persephone!" Apollo's voice cracked through the silence, a mixture of desperation and exasperation. But I couldn't listen. I wouldn't listen.
"I won't change my mind," I said, my voice flat and cold. The words left my mouth with a sharpness that left no room for argument. "Some things are better kept hidden. And I'm not about to open up about this. If you keep pressing me, I'll make you regret it." I turned slightly, just enough to let them see the glare in my eyes, the warning flashing there, like the cold edge of a blade. "You remember that I'm the oldest here, right? I don't hesitate to put you both in your places." The threat hung in the air, heavy and loaded with meaning. I didn't want to fight, but if it came to it, I would.
"And you better keep my appearance a secret," I added, my voice dropping even lower, more dangerous now, the final nail in the coffin. "If you spill anything to anyone else, I'll make sure you regret it. You won't get away with it. Not this time." The words were icy, sharp enough to cut through anything. I meant every syllable.
"Why are you hiding?" Atlas's voice was more than just a question now—it was an accusation. He wasn't asking anymore; he was demanding an answer. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, and I could almost feel his gaze drilling into the back of my head. He was frustrated, maybe even angry, but also more curious than ever, as if he thought there was something more that I wasn't saying, something I was keeping hidden from them all.
"Just because," I said with a grin, though it wasn't the playful, teasing grin that I usually wore. This one was different. It was a mask, one I had perfected over the years, hiding the truth from everyone around me. "You wouldn't understand, and frankly, I'm not about to explain it." I didn't expect them to get it, and I didn't care if they did.
"Can we get access to your penthouse now? Or will you keep us on the roof? You've kept it a secret for so long, because that's where you're yourself, right?" Apollo pressed, his tone a mix of teasing and curiosity, as if he thought I'd break under the pressure. "You use dye magic to hide your hair and eyes, don't you?"
I turned to face him fully now, my eyes narrowing as I considered his words. "That's not the sole reason," I said firmly, shaking my head. "So, no. I enjoy my privacy. And I know you two well enough to know that as soon as I let you into my space, you'll never leave me alone. You'll be around constantly, poking into everything I do. And I'm not having that. I like my solitude. I like my quiet." I paused for a moment, giving them a once-over, weighing my words carefully. "Thank you, but no."
They had no idea what I really did in there. They couldn't know. They couldn't see the murals I had painted, each one covering a wall in my penthouse—paintings that traced my investigation into Lust-Rhae Evangeline Python.
They couldn't see the intricate charts and notes I'd made detailing the strengths and weaknesses of the top 50 academies, of the most influential families, of the players in the game I was preparing to enter. They couldn't know how deeply involved I was in the schemes, in the politics. They couldn't know.
And they definitely couldn't know about the scars on my body, the ones I had earned during my time in Draki Mountain. I hated them, but they were part of me, reminders of what I had survived. And that tattoo on my back—the one I had gotten in Draki Mountain—was something I could never reveal to them. It had meaning. Deep, personal meaning.
And they wouldn't understand.
They never would.
"Give up," I muttered, my voice cutting through the heavy silence as I returned my focus to the leg press. I could feel their eyes still on me, but I didn't look up. I couldn't.