Persephone's Point of View
♕︎ ♕︎ ♕︎
"I thought that, maybe, if you opened yourself to it, we would turn out to be mates, but it seems like I was wrong."
The words hung in the air, heavy and absolute, like a final nail being driven into the coffin of something that had never truly existed. There was an eerie finality to the way he spoke them, and for a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for my reaction. A part of me thought I should feel guiltier, that I should be wracked with regret for the way I was addressing Fox, but I… didn't. Not really.
Sure, a fleeting pang of discomfort flashed through me. A tiny flicker of hesitation. I wondered if I was being too harsh. But then, I quickly remembered why I was saying it, why I had to say it. He needed to hear the truth, even if it cut him. It wasn't my job to soften the blow, and it certainly wasn't my responsibility to pretend things were different when they weren't.
I did feel a bit bad for being so blunt, for being such a bitch to him. That much, at least, I could admit to myself. It was hard not to feel some twinge of empathy, even if I hated how he'd been so fixated on me for far too long. But that didn't change the fact that his obsession with me creeped me out. It always had. Every time he'd look at me with those longing, desperate eyes, it unsettled me more than I cared to admit. It wasn't right. And no amount of guilt—no matter how small or fleeting—would ever make me reconsider my decision.
My choice was made. It was final.
"You should stop looking for the mating bond in me, Fox," I said, my voice sharp, almost too sharp, but steady, unwavering. It sliced through the thick tension in the air like a blade, clear and unforgiving. "And open your eyes to those around you. Your mate might be in this class right now, and you're wasting your time on me. Think of this as an opportunity. An opportunity to find your real match. Free yourself from what was never yours, and maybe—just maybe—that's exactly what you need to find the person who's truly meant to be yours."
I meant every single word, even if they stung, especially because they stung. The truth wasn't always kind. And it sure as hell wasn't gentle. But it was the truth, and I wasn't about to sugarcoat it just to spare his feelings. He needed to hear it. More than that, he needed to understand it.
Thankfully, my brothers were on my side, as always. They backed me up in a way that made it clear to Fox—if he hadn't realized it already—that I wasn't alone in this. I wasn't an isolated force standing against him.
"The mating bond doesn't just snap into place if you touch skin to skin, Loki," Apollo said, his voice calm but firm, like a pillar of reason in the midst of a storm. He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms, his golden eyes locking onto Fox with an unreadable intensity. There was a kindness in his tone, but it was the kind of kindness that didn't leave any room for debate, the kind that demanded you listen. "Both parts need to be open to it. They need to be ready for it. That's why it's so special when it happens," he added, his gaze briefly flicking to me before returning to Fox. His words were measured, not cruel, but undeniably firm. "My sister is right. Maybe your mate is sitting in this class, and you don't even know it because you've been so blind, so obsessed with her."
It was a powerful statement, the kind of clarity that could shatter any delusions. I could feel the weight of his words sink in, pushing Fox to see things from a different angle. He might have resented us for it in the moment, but deep down, I knew Apollo was right. Fox's obsession with me had kept him from even looking at the people around him—he had become so fixated on the idea of me that he failed to see the possibility of someone else, someone who could actually be his mate.
Atlas, never one to mince words, was quick to add his own thoughts to the conversation. "And if you want to stay alive long enough to find your mate, you'd better get over this and not try anything stupid with my sister," he said, his voice low and threatening, carrying a weight of authority that made it clear he wasn't playing around. His dark eyes narrowed at Fox, and there was a coldness to his stare that left no room for misinterpretation. "Because her threats aren't a joke. We used to think they were too—until she stabbed the hell out of us. Not cool."
His words were blunt, but they had the desired effect. I could see Fox stiffen slightly, his posture shifting in a way that suggested the message had finally reached him. It didn't matter how much bravado he put on—he knew better than to mess with us.
I couldn't help but chuckle softly at Atlas's comment, the sound slipping out before I could stop it. It wasn't cruel, not exactly, but there was a certain amusement in it. "We are immortals, Atlas," I reminded him, rolling my eyes in mock exasperation. "No resentment, remember?"
Atlas scoffed, his glare turning to me. "The experience was very real," he muttered, his tone almost playful, but there was no mistaking the seriousness behind his words.
I shrugged, unbothered by his glare. "I just took your first death," I said nonchalantly, as though the matter were nothing.
"We didn't want to know what dying felt like at all," Apollo chimed in, his voice carrying an edge of indignation, a slight shift in his usual calm demeanor.
"No one does," I replied with a wink, my lips curving into a sly smile. "But I like stabbing, so it is what it is."
The casualness of my response was meant to disarm, to break the tension, but I could see the surprise flicker in the eyes of some of the others. My family knew me too well to be truly shocked, but the others… well, they didn't quite know what to make of it.
"No shite?" came Pride-Niklaus's voice, his dry, almost mocking tone laced with sarcasm. It wasn't the first time he'd tried to goad me, and it wouldn't be the last, but I wasn't in the mood for his games.
I shot him a glare, unimpressed. "It's not like you don't stab people too," I retorted, my voice sharper than I intended, my patience fraying a little.
"I do, indeed," he admitted with a casual shrug, his piercing gaze locking onto mine in a way that made something twist uncomfortably in my stomach. His stare was intense, unwavering, as though he could see straight through me, and I hated it. I hated the way it made me feel exposed. "But not my sister," he added, his tone shifting, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he studied me.
The change in his demeanor set me on edge. There was something off about the way he was looking at me, something that made my skin crawl in a way I couldn't quite explain. "You're more of a psychopath than I imagined," he said, a crooked grin spreading across his face, his voice low and dangerous.
The grin only made me feel more unsettled. I didn't like the way he was watching me, like I was some kind of puzzle for him to figure out. It made my skin prickle, and my instincts screamed at me to move, to step away.
"Psychopaths don't have emotions," I shot back, my voice as steady as ever despite the strange unease curling in my chest. "I have plenty of emotions. Many, actually. But the majority of them are negative."
I paused for a moment, letting the weight of my words settle between us, before continuing, my voice cold and matter-of-fact. "I love my father. I love my brothers, no matter how infuriating they are. I also loved my mom unconditionally," I added, my voice softening ever so slightly at the mention of her, though I quickly masked it with a hardened edge. "Psychopaths only care about themselves, which isn't the case for me. Thus, calling me that is wrong. In fact, sociopath would suit me better."
"But I'm still not one," I added firmly, cutting off any potential argument before it could start.
"You certainly act like a psycho, though," Kai Nova's voice chimed in from behind me, his mocking tone instantly grating on my nerves.
"Many actors act like psychopaths," I said smoothly, not bothering to look at him as I spoke. My voice dropped into a low, dangerous purr. "But that doesn't make them one, does it now, lowly demon?"
The room fell into a tense silence, the weight of my words lingering in the air like a storm cloud. I didn't need to look at Kai to know he'd shut up. I could feel it.