Galen pinned her to the floor, ready to render the final blow.
“Where is Legion?” the keeper of Hope shouted, going to his knees, putting his weight on her shoulders.
“Never…tell…” Her voice held no trace of Wrath. Which meant the demon wasn’t guiding her right now. She was in control. She would feel every injury.
Hurry! Get to her! Paris stumbled, righted himself, kept moving. Closer…but not close enough…so damn far away.
Another human, tossed aside.
“Where is she?” Galen.
“Where you’ll never find her.” Sienna.
Just beyond them, Cronus drilled Rhea’s sword with so much force, the queen lost her grip. The king pounced, fisting her hair and forcing her to her knees. And there was nothing she could do about it, weaponless as she now was.
With his free hand, Cronus withdrew a thin link of chain from the pocket of his robe and bound her wrists behind her. Struggling the entire time, she spat curses at him. He hooked the chain around her ankles. A hog tie. A good one. The queen wouldn’t be going anywhere until he let her.
A sharp lance of pain seared between his shoulder blades. Someone had just stabbed him in the back, Paris realized distantly. Once again his knees gave out. This time, he couldn’t get to his feet. Commanding his crystal blade to elongate, he shoved the length backward, nailed the one who’d taken him down, then he began crawling. He would reach Sienna. He would, even though every inch he gained left a thick trail of blood behind. In fact, he’d lost so much he wasn’t sure how he was still conscious.
Galen swung around, removing his weight from Sienna, but she stayed where she was. Prone, motionless.
What had the bastard done to her? “No. No.” On his hands and knees, Paris worked his way to her. “Hold on, baby. I’m coming.”
Cronus and Galen circled each other. Both were cut and bleeding profusely. Both were limping.
“Well, well. Our showdown at last,” the king said. He coughed and spit out a tooth. He was without a weapon, having dropped them to confine his wife.
He couldn’t flash away, too injured to do so.
Galen raised his sword. “Well, well, indeed. You didn’t bring what you promised me, and now you are defenseless.”
“Am I? I think not. If you want your woman,” the king continued, “you’ll walk away now. I will bring her to you, and you may keep her. But you are never to defy me again. So walk away. Now.”
Sienna twitched. Twitched again. Relief consumed Paris. Almost there, almost… Slowly she rose, shook her head and took stock of the scene playing out in front of her, clearly still consumed by Wrath’s influence after all. Cronus had his back to her. Galen was in front of Cronus, but paid her no heed.
The crystal dagger she held glinted in the light. And it elongated as his had just done, thickened, the end becoming a hook. Becoming a scythe. Becoming the only weapon capable of killing the man who ruled from the Titan throne. Paris realized what was about to happen and froze.
Oh, damn. Anyone looking from behind Galen, which was the view from Danika’s painting of this moment, would see only Cronus. They wouldn’t see the slight female behind him. The female who would change the world with her next action.
“I will never bow to you,” Galen snarled. “And I will get my woman on my own.”
“You’ll get her after I kill her, then.”
Galen roared, his weapon shaking in his grip.
“Actually,” Sienna said, even as Galen swung, “you’ll be the one dying.” She, too, swung.
Her weapon was longer, stronger, and far more powerful, and she beat Galen to the punch.
Cronus never knew what hit him.
His head detached, flew, and his body collapsed. Rhea screamed, but for a split second, she looked nearly triumphant. “Worth…it,” she whispered, and then she, too, went silent, suddenly motionless.
My woman. Pride joined Paris’s relief. My woman did this. Won this.
As the throngs began to shout in revelation, a dark, screeching form rose from the king’s body, its crimson eyes glowing, its fangs long and sharp, and a tail swishing behind it. A similar form rose from Rhea, only hers had a stooped back with horns and claws so long they could have been sabers.
Their demons were escaping.
Crazed, Greed and Strife shot high into the air, disappearing into the night. Two of Pandora’s demons would once more be unleashed upon the world.
“Someone should go after them,” Paris tried to say, but then Sienna screamed, hitting her knees, and he no longer cared about anything else. Her arms spread wide, her back arched, contorting her. Her head fell back, and she released another scream, then another and another.
At last Paris reached her. At last she quieted, her voice box razed. She remained in that position, shaking, shaking so badly. He wanted to gather her into his arms, to offer comfort, but he put himself in front of her. He was her shield. Now, always.
Galen stood there, panting, and maybe he would have attacked, but the battle had ended as suddenly as it had begun. The few remaining Hunters realized they were outnumbered and took off in a dead sprint, though where they thought they could escape to up here, he had no clue. Bloody gods and bedraggled goddesses sank to their knees. Some bowed their heads; others simply looked stunned.
The angels came up to flank Sienna, daring the keeper of Hope to make a move.
“All hail the new queen,” a goddess suddenly said.
The rest of the Titans repeated the phrase, their voices rising in fervor, as one by one, they kneeled in front of Paris. He wasn’t sure what was happening; surely they would not refer to him as the new queen. He had his moments, sure, but maybe it was a Titan thing, like how Viola called her male pet “princess.”
“They speak to the girl behind you,” Zacharel said, moving to stand beside him.
Sienna? Sienna was queen? Of the Titans? Still crouched, he swung around to check on her. The dizziness increased, and he realized his line of sight was completely blown.
The angel added roughly, “Choices decide our fate. And though I was not made aware until now, she was to be the king’s greatest asset—or his only downfall, depending on the choice she made.”
“But he would…have known. His Eyes…would have…told him.” Every word scraped his throat, burning. Every word weakened him further.
“I am sure they did,” Zacharel said. “In their own way. Perhaps he did not look closely enough, or perhaps they did not show him everything. And now Sienna has taken the godly throne. This is why we wanted her on our side, why everyone wanted her on their side. The powers Cronus stole from so many others over the centuries have now become hers.”
Do I know how to pick ’em or what? This was one more hat for her to wear, he thought with a faint laugh that caused blood to bubble up his throat, spilling out of his mouth.
A fog drifted through his mind, but it couldn’t hide the revelation that he was dying. Already he’d lost too much blood, and with every second that passed, breathing became more difficult. But Sienna would be safe, always safe, and that was all that mattered. He couldn’t ask for more than that. Except for a future with her. He would have liked that.
The rest of his strength draining, he allowed himself to fall backward, his head landing in her lap.
“Paris?”
Darkness that had nothing to do with his anger closed in. “I…love…you,” he croaked out.