Perseus was part wolf shifter, which meant that when the bond between him and Medusa had slammed into place, it was instant, unstoppable, and dramatic as hell. They’d fallen in love right after meeting the triplets in Valle Trigenico, deep in the mountains of Bolivia.
That entire adventure had been chaos—it was the beginning, tracking Zeus’s children, Perseus admitting Zeus was his father, then getting attacked and almost dying—but somehow it had ended with the two of them hopelessly devoted to each other.
She raised her hand and knocked.
“Come in,” Medusa called.
She pushed the door open. The office was larger than most, one entire wall made of glass overlooking the city. Alindale stretched below them, stone towers mixed with modern buildings, magic threading through the skyline like faint sparks.
Perseus was leaning against one of the desks, arms crossed, looking relaxed in that deceptively dangerous way he had.
Medusa sat behind the main desk, snakelets around her shoulders, mirrored aviators firmly in place.
“Well,” Perseus said with a faint grin, “there’s our resident troublemaker.”
Liora closed the door behind her. “I resent that.”
“You should,” he said easily. “But it’s accurate.”
She crossed the room and leaned casually against one of the chairs. “So,” she said. “I was told this was ame-onlymeeting.”
Medusa nodded. “It is.”
“That’s ominous,” Liora raised an eyebrow.
Perseus chuckled softly. “It might be.”
Liora looked between them. “Should I be worried?”
“That depends,” Medusa folded her hands on the desk.
“On what?”
“On whether you’ve recently gotten yourself into…unexpected complications.”
Liora’s face stayed perfectly neutral. “I’m always in unexpected complications.”
Perseus tilted his head slightly, studying her. “Yes,” he said slowly. “But this one is…specific.”
“I feel like I’m missing context.” Liora forced a small smile.
Medusa held her gaze for a long moment. Then she said calmly, “A certain basilisk came by the office yesterday.”
Liora’s stomach sank, and her brain scrambled for the least dangerous option. “Pythorus?” she asked weakly.
Perseus shook his head. “No.” He let the moment stretch just long enough to make it painful. “Maldenis.”
Liora exhaled slowly through her nose. Well. There it was. She didn’t say anything. Didn’t ask questions. The less she said, the fewer holes she dug for herself.
Unfortunately, Perseus didn’t seem interested in letting the silence sit.
“The spring was sacred,” he said.
I know that,Liora thought grimly.
Perseus continued, voice calm but increasingly edged with irritation. “Their elders are not happy. His family’s standing has taken a serious hit.”
She stared at the floor.
