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With a growl, Pandora removed her sandal, prepared to thwack Sol over the head with it, but he slammed the doors shut with a chuckle, leaving her alone in the room.
“When your golden castle crumbles and your flesh turns to ash, I’ll simply look on and laugh,” she whispered before replacing her sandal. She had to keep reminding herself that soon she would triumph over these fools. And they would wish they had treated her better.
They would beg for mercy. And she would gladly refuse.
With a deep breath, she turned and faced her bedchambers, unable to keep her eyebrows from lifting in surprise at what awaited her.
A four-poster bed took up half the room, with delicate white drapes and a dozen fluffy pillows adorning it. Opposite the bed was a set of open doors that led to a balcony overlooking the glittering blue sea. Already, the sound of the waves provided a soothing rhythm that echoed in the vast chamber. On the other side of the room was a small seating area where a tray of tea and biscuits waited. Behind that were the bathing chambers. Pandora nearly groaned with relief at the thought of taking a proper bath. The castle in the Underworld hadn’t been drab by any means, but lately she had been masquerading herself as Prue’s lady’s maid, which left her confined to the servants’ quarters. Despite her barbed comment to Sol about where her chambers were located, she did appreciate the luxuries afforded to her because of her status as goddess.
Her thoughts turned to Prue, and a twist of emotion wrenched through her. She had expected someone pretentious and cruel and cold, just like Cyrus. But she hadn’t expected someone like Prue. Someone who cared about the people of the Underworld, who sought to make a difference.
In truth, Pandora hadn’t expected to actually like her sister.
She shook her head to rid herself of these useless thoughts. It didn’t matter. It had to be done. The agony burning in her chest demanded it.
She could not rest until her revenge was complete. Only then would she find peace.
“Time to get to work,” she muttered, smoothing her hands along her skirts and striding toward the balcony. She was here for a reason, and she couldn’t forget it.
She would bring down Elysium from the inside. But she needed to infuse her magic in this realm first. Only then could the darkness from her box be drawn in.
This place would crumble, just like the Underworld. But the Underworld’s demise had been much easier. The area had been enriched with death magic, which was like kindling to a flame, only igniting her darkness and feeding it with fuel.
But here? Sol had a point—the gods of Elysium did not often associate with those of the Underworld because of the differences between realms. Even the very air was different. The magic here was foreign to Pandora and would be foreign to her powers as well.
She needed to change that. To acquaint herself with the energies in the air so her magic would recognize it and eventually bring it down. But she had to do it discreetly; if anyone caught wind of her earth magic, she would be cast out in a heartbeat.
Just like Gaia.
No. Pandora forced out all thoughts of the earth goddess before they boiled her blood and caused her to do something reckless. She would deal with her dear and loving mother later.
Ending Gaia would be the third and final step of Pandora’s revenge. Only then would she finally be free of the weights dragging her down.
The weight of abandonment.
The weight of torment.
The weight of endless agony and suffering.
Oh, yes, she would make all of them pay.
Pandora gasped, only then realizing her hands were clutched so tightly that her fingernails broke skin on her palm, carving bloody crescent marks in her hand. Hissing, she flexed her hand, inspecting the wounds.
Red. Her blood was red, despite her lineage. The gods bled silver. And yet, here she was, bleeding like a godforsaken mortal.
Inferior. That was what gods like Sol thought of her. She was less than worthy of the status of goddess.
Fresh anger brewed within her as she clenched her hand once more, steeling herself with another breath. The memories of anguish threatened to consume her, but she held them at bay with the promise that soon—soon—all would be hers once more.
She stepped onto the balcony as the wind whipped at her, tousling her scarlet hair around her face. The salty sea air filled her nose, mingling with the soothing rhythm of the waves around her.
Gods, she had to admit… this was quite pleasant.
Which only made her angrier. How long did the gods here lord over their paradise and treasures while they left everyone else to suffer?
Pandora lifted her hands and thrust them, palms out, toward the sea. Tendrils of her earth magic swirled forward, twisting in the air and vanishing among the clouds. She closed her eyes, following her magic with her senses as they stretched out, out, out…
Gods above, how far did this realm go? Minutes passed, and her magic was still reaching, searching for the walls of Elysium, digging through the illusion to find where the realm began and ended.
