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He steps closer, his finger on my chin, lifting my eyes to his.
“You know it well, don’t you child? The way anger boils inside you? Tempered by nothing, fueled with fury. You know it because we share the same blood, the same rage.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “You’re wrong about me.”
“But aren’t we one in the same?” he asks, stepping toward the house. “You may be staying here, playing house, but you know as well as I that this place is much too good for you. You are nothing; certainly not made for them. Those adorably valiant wolf-boys and that sister, with her pink hair and pretty smile. You are ruined and rotting inside. You always have been. It may be a nice fairy tale, to find a place in the woods to call home but this is not your true home, girl.”
His words cut to the heart—my heart. The part of me that has always bled for what I’m not.
Not wanted. Not loved. Not chosen. Not seen.
Ares though, he sees me.
I pretended River could with his smooth words and gentle touch. I wanted to believe I was like him.
Of course, I’m not. No one in that cottage is.
Harlow is a Siren, calming the sea and I am a wolf, a predator made to kill.
Hot tears roll down my cheeks, burning my skin as they fall. I see it all so clearly. What I am and what I’m not.
“Where have you been all my life?” I ask.
“Waiting. You needed the ring on your finger before you could inherit your strength. Now it is yours and we can rule together.”
“Together?”
Ares nods. “Yes, I dwell on Earth in wolf form, when I please, and other forms when I don’t. My domain is the land, in all its various states. Together, we can rule the land. I am the God of war, and the land is a fiery place.”
“Fire?”
“Fire and tornadoes, dust storms and blizzards.”
“You create those? To destroy people and places?”
A grin spreads across his dark face. “I help fuel them. The Greek gods no longer have dominion over the humans on Earth, but we can play with their elements.”
“Why do you want my help?”
“Because your mother wanted us separated, but I, my child, am the one here, looking for you. I want us to be together.”
“My mother, she wanted us apart? Why?”
Ares eyes flicker with hate, a look I know all too well. A look I know because I’ve been carrying it, like a noose around my neck, all my life.
“Because she wanted everything her way.”
“And what did you want?” My words anger him.
“Don’t question me, girl,” he seethes, his true colors showing.
“Or what?” I smirk. “You’ll make good on your threat and burn the house down?”
“I will, and I can,” he says, stepping forth, arms raised, striking the sky, sending rivulets of fire to the cottage. Embers fall on the roof and from inside I hear screams and shouts as everyone I love are in harm's way.
From his hand, he sends forth blades of fire, the jolting flames pierce the trees. He stomps his feet and the ground roars to life, shaking beneath us.
“Don’t you dare,” I scream, forcing my hands toward him. But from my hands, it isn’t fire that blazes forth. It isn’t destruction and it isn’t ruin.
It is peace.
The strongest, most overwhelming surge of calm spreads from my hands to the earth around us. Covering Ares with tranquility. He fights back, his eyes beady and the veins popping from his face, along his arms—as if everything inside him is ready to burst.
I have never backed down in my entire life and I don’t intend on doing so now. I stomp my feet, matching his, but I don’t send an earthquake from my boots—no, I send rivers of overwhelming tranquility.
I spin, pushing my hands far from my body, shooting ribbons of peace from my fingertips, clearing the house of the fiery rage and replacing it with an effervescent calm.
Ares may have said I was rotting and ruined—but he was wrong. I am more than my past, more than a sum of mistakes. I am a fighter, and I seek justice and I am more than a broken girl.
I am enough.
Gaia said it earlier, and I am claiming it as truth right now.
I am enough.
A week ago, I wouldn’t have had the power to overcome Ares, because I didn’t understand the kind of peace that comes from true love, true understanding—the kind of love I’ve been shown by River, East, and Callum.
But now I know.
I push my body to the limit, gathering the power inside me. The power I’ve kept at bay for so damn long. The song of my heart has always been a drum line, hard and fast.
But maybe it can be more. If my sister can sing a song that calms the sea, maybe the song of my heart can be one that is soft, not wrecked and ruined. Instead, my heart can heal.
