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He wasn’t forgotten now. He was hated. Feared. The enemy. Orpheus had risked his life to save him, and this was the result. Only one thing was clear to him now: he was done being a burden and a responsibility. Done with the Argonauts. The brother Orpheus so desperately wanted to save was never coming back.

He looked toward the windows and the sun setting low over the lake. Tried to find some kind of joy in the view. Couldn’t. As the same emptiness he’d gotten used to living with the last few months swamped him, all he could think about was what he had to do next.

Come to me…

He would. All too soon, he would.

* * *

The castle was quiet when Maelea slunk out of her room.

Sconces lit the darkened hallway, illuminating the thick carpet runner, the paintings hanging on the walls, and the heavy doors, all closed and likely locked. Twisting her arm around, she pressed the backpack against her spine to keep the contents inside from causing too much noise. Her adrenaline soared as she tiptoed toward the end of the hall, every creaking board sounding like an alarm to her, announcing she was making her escape.

Nothing moved around her. The bedrooms on each side of the hall were silent. She’d been given a room on this floor, made up only of single females, when she’d first come to the colony, and she’d memorized her floor-mates’ sleeping patterns early on. Except for Samara, who liked to stay up to watch Jay Leno, everyone else turned in by ten. And at this hour—just after one a.m.—they were surely all sound asleep.

Under the cover of darkness was her favorite time to roam the castle. When it was quiet, when people were locked away, when she was confident she wouldn’t be stopped. Orpheus had called her a ghoul because of it at first, but she didn’t care. She’d learned a lot about the people and their rituals by sneaking out during the night. And she’d learned just how to escape when the time was right.

She held her breath when she reached the end of the hall, pushed on the door, and waited for the hinges to squeak. To her surprise, they didn’t, and seconds later she was standing in the dimly lit stairwell alone, the door between her and discovery closed at her back.

One obstacle down. She only had about thirty more before she was out of here for good.

She checked her watch, realized she’d wasted too much time waiting for Samara to turn off the TV next door and fall asleep, and picked up her pace. Skipping stairs, she made it to the ground level, then paused to look out the rectangular window in the steel door and scan the courtyard.

This was where it got tricky. She could take the elevator down to the tunnels, but that would create noise that would undoubtedly rouse someone. She could continue down these stairs, but there were guards at the bottom she didn’t want to deal with. Her best option was to cross the courtyard and head for the armory on the far side. Weeks ago she’d found a door from the armory down to the tunnels, one seldom used and blocked off so no one would venture into the tunnels unaccounted for and get injured.

The key was to make it across the courtyard unseen. The moon cast a mere sliver of light. But the guards in the towers weren’t as dismissive as Hawk. Even with a virtual blanket of darkness, they could still spot her.

Maelea checked her watch again. One twenty-nine. In another minute, the guards would change shifts. She looked up, watched the tower to the south, and waited until she saw a shadow pass in front of the light.

Go time.

She pushed down her nerves, slipped out into the darkness, and darted into shadows as she made her way around the central courtyard. Water gurgled in the fountain to her right. The air was crisp and cool, and her heart pounded in her chest as she eyed the base of the guard’s tower looming ahead like a sleeping giant.

Halfway there, her spine tingled, and she had the distinct impression she was being watched. Dashing into a patch of darkness, she looked up toward the tower and saw nothing but light, indicating the next guard had yet to take position. Glancing back toward the castle, she scanned the darkened windows, pausing when she reached the one she knew belonged to Gryphon.

He’d watched her from that window before. Several times she’d been out here in the courtyard, had felt her back tingle just like this and looked up to see him standing behind the glass, peering down at her with a haunted expression. The way he watched her was unnerving. But now that she knew what he was capable of…now it sent sickness sliding up her throat.

Tonight his window was empty, though. Swallowing hard, telling herself she was just jumpy, she picked her way toward the tower. The pack bounced against her spine. The black pants and boots were sleek and made it easy to move—way easier than the long, full skirts she was used to wearing. Perspiration dotted her spine. When she reached the ten-foot-long patch of moonlight between her and the tower, she hesitated.

Once she was on the other side of the tower, she could easily disappear in the orchard, and from there make her way to the tunnel entrance she’d found on the backside of the armory. She just had to get there first.

This close, she couldn’t see the guards above anymore. But it was now or never. Holding her breath, she darted from shadow into light, nearly swallowing her tongue as she skidded to a stop at the base of the structure, her back pressing into the cool stone as she tried to catch her breath.

Her chest rose and fell as she worked to slow her pulse. And she almost laughed when she thought of what she must look like, slinking around in the dark. Two months ago, she wouldn’t have been so bold as to try to escape. But she’d changed in the months she’d been at the colony. Maybe more than she’d changed in all the long years she’d spent alone. And she knew the root of that change was spurring her to leave now.

Confident she could breathe again, she pushed away from the stone and took a step toward the orchard to her left, already thinking ahead to what she would do when she was out of the tunnels and on her own in the vast Montana wilderness. She had money. She knew how to blend in with humans. She’d find a place—hundreds, maybe thousands of miles away from here—and start over. And then she’d decide how she was going to make it to Olympus.

Rocks crunched under her boots as she walked. A voice sounded above.

Maelea’s heart lurched into her throat. She slammed back against the base of the tower, looked up. Couldn’t see anything except shadows and darkness. But she could hear them. Several voices now. Shouting words she couldn’t make out. And feet pounding down the stairs inside the tower at her back.

They’d seen her.

Sweat dripped down her back to pool at the base of her spine. If she didn’t make a break for it now, she was screwed. Orpheus would never agree to let her go back to her old life.

The pounding footsteps grew in intensity. Drawing one deep breath, she gripped the straps of her backpack and darted for the orchard. The heavy, metal door on the north side of the tower screeched open. And a voice—a clear voice—yelled, “Stop!”

Maelea pushed her muscles to the max. Just as she stepped past the end of the tower, a hand snaked out and wrapped around her mouth. A muffled yelp slipped from her lips, then the air rushed out of her lungs as she was pulled back against a body that felt like it was made of solid steel.

Chapter Three

“Don’t move. Don’t even make a sound.”

Maelea’s heart raced beneath her breast and her adrenaline jumped into the stratosphere. She didn’t know who held her, but if she didn’t get away from him soon—like now—her one shot at freedom would shrivel and die.

She’d never been good with weapons, but over the last few months she’d participated in self-defense classes taught by the colony’s guards. She still wasn’t any real threat, but she knew enough to defend herself—something she’d never known before.