“I’m not done yet,” Skotia says, with a venom-rawed throat, so quietly that maybe only a Praetor might hear his prayer. “Please.” But you only get saved once. You only get that kiss one time, no more than that. Don’t be greedy. The mask flakes underneath Beautiful’s regard and threatens to blow off his face; he desperately clings to it, pushes it against his face as if willing it to stay, to be the real face, to fill the hollow in her heart. But it’s already melting away.

The sound of him accepting this is a hollow, joyless laugh. Of course it ends this way. Don’t you know, Skotia? At the end of every story the wicked get their just reward, and all the lies are resolved.

He crumples to his knees like a fresh-birthed calf as the fire consumes him. But he keeps forcing the words out. All he is, all he could be, just tatters and a voice now, so he’ll use it even if it makes him feel like he’s got Bella scraping those talons down the inside of his throat, because some things are more important than a moment of comparatively less agony, and what Skotia says is:

“You wanted to die for her. Don’t.” He hunches his back like a wild animal, his hair flowing like molten gold across his shoulders. His shadow is long. His shadow is long. “Listen. I can’t be her hero anymore. I [i]can’t.[/i] Masters don’t abandon their pets. [i]Masters don’t abandon their pets.[/i]” The effort of existing forces black spittle from his lips, his hands pressed so hard against his face that the head he’s losing throbs and aches. “[i]Don’t you dare![/i]”

Then he’s gone, and maybe it is that Hades folds the shape of where a thing was into a neat jacket to drape over his arm, and maybe it isn’t, and it’s left to Aphrodite to pick up the pieces of the name after the party’s over.

Her shadow’s long. There’s an echo at the barest edge of hearing. Her shadow’s long. The air crackles with ozone and the smell of battle, sweat and blood and tears. She’s hunched over herself, naked and shaking, veins protruding on her neck and her arms as her muscles strain against each other.

And Redana Claudius screams at the monster threatening her Bella, screams like her Bella’s never heard, screams like she’s holding an axe by its head: “[i]Avaunt![/i]”

And the shadow doesn’t go away just because she screamed at it. But it doesn’t eat her whole, either. She holds it back for Skotia; she holds the whole world on her shoulder and doesn’t snap in half. That’s it, that’s the entire world, the weight of the Nemean telling her that Redana is [i]violence, cruelty, abuser, useless, she’ll snap Bella’s neck and make it a mercy because at least then the pain will stop, let her in, let her IN, there’s nothing she can do that you wouldn’t do worse, Bella hates you, Bella deserves to hate you, Mynx hates you, Mynx deserves to hate you, Dolce hates you, Dolce deserves to hate you, don’t you get it, they all hate you, let go, let GO, stop hurting, stop hurting them, weak as your mother, weak as humans that abandoned their pets across the stars, and she’ll wipe it all clean as a mercy, she’ll crack Tellus in half because it’s there, she’ll kill them all for the challenge of it, and she’ll never stop to whine about how bad she feels, when a servant fails you you kill them, when a lover refuses you kill them, when a mother denies you kill her, and she’ll laugh and kill and make merry and do it all without the pain, because the pain’s the real enemy, Redana, the pain, the weakness, the doubt, and you’re too weak, aren’t you, too weak to commit, too weak to kill, too weak to fuck, too weak to live, so let her in, let her IN, let her in let her in let her in let her in[/i]

Why was dying for her the [i]easy[/i] part?

It’s not even a word any more. It’s a noise. Animals make noises. Her face is wet. Don’t look at her. Please. Don’t make the Nemean’s job easier. Don’t remind her how little she deserves to exist. She can barely believe it herself.

[i]”You have a life to go and live after tonight. And you should live it.”[/i]

[i]”Don’t throw away the one good thing I get to do with my life.”[/i]

[i]”Owners never owners never owners never owners never”[/i]

But she does. Bella said so. Skotia deserved to exist. And now he’s dead. So she’s got to keep fighting the monster for him. He gave her so much. So [i]much.[/i] A kiss. A hold. A carry. Bella, for a moment, comforted. Bella, for a moment, holding her the way she always…

She can’t. For Skotia. And always, as always, from the first moment she looked up at the smog-choked sky and decided she was going to run and run until nobody could catch her—

For Bella.