He was awake and fighting the lethargy with a strength he shouldn't have possessed. Not with his slave collar. But he would have to sleep eventually. Everyone did, even deposed god kings. And when he did, she would be there.
However he'd convinced her to allow him to suffer from afar...she might never know. The fucker had killed her son in front of her, and had likely taken Gideon's memories of her. He was the reason her heart had withered and died. He was the reason she had cried herself to sleep so many nights. And he could very well be the reason she'd felt abandoned, alone, forsaken and used.
None of that mattered to her demon, however. Must feed, Nightmares said.
She understood, knowing well the consequences of denying her other half what he needed. He wouldn't want to, but he would be forced to feed on her.
So, though she would have preferred to stake out the Greek for all of eternity, she approached Galen. And, to be honest, hurting him would calm her down. Somewhat.
Thankfully, his doorway was open. His dream was as turbulent as before, only this time it was all his own. Over and over he relived what she'd shown him. His helplessness. His weakness. His defeat at Gideon's hand.
Nightmares drank in his terror, luxuriating in the emotion even though the demon hadn't caused it, before scenting someone else's fear and moving on. And then another. When the demon was finally sated, Scarlet steered them toward Gideon's doorway. It, too, was open.
Her warrior slept. What thoughts drifted through his mind?
Walk away. A command from her sense of survival.
Can't. A cry from the most feminine part of her.
She was trembling as she stepped inside, and what she next saw left her gasping. There she was, wearing a beautiful red gown, yet chained in front of a strong, struggling boy who appeared half human, half demon. Zeus stood behind the boy, a curving knife in hand, glinting silver. Around them was a crowd of people cheering.
Not a memory, she realized, because Gideon had some of the details wrong. He was simply creating a scene from what she'd told him.
For a long while, she debated: show him the truth or leave him to the illusion. An illusion that would be much easier to digest than reality.
He needs to know. Who spoke to her this time, she didn't know.
Did he, though? Sometimes she would prefer not to know herself.
He needs to know. For Steel. Steel deserved a father who knew how he'd lived—and died.
With that, Scarlet's reservations vanished. For Steel, she would do anything.
Trembling, she reached out and waved a hand over dream Scarlet's gown. That was the easiest correction to make and a good place to start. The material disappeared as if her palm was an eraser. Then, with another wave of her hand, she repainted her clothing. A dirty white robe, stained with blood. Ripped at one shoulder. She added cuts and bruises to her face and arms.
Gulping, she eyed the crowd. Using both hands, she wiped them away, leaving herself, Steel and Zeus, and a figure cloaked in darkness. A being whose feet didn't quite touch the ground, the hem of his black robe blowing in a wind no one else could see. The being who would accept and cage Steel's demon.
Without the cheers, a near-deafening silence took over.
Next, she changed the surrounding hippodrome where Zeus had often hosted his chariot games to an abandoned temple. White alabaster columns rose all around, dewy green ivy climbing their beveled lengths. There were steps that led to a cracked marble altar, each stained crimson from the many sacrifices that had taken place there.
That done, she turned her attention to Zeus. Her fingers curled in as her mind shouted avoid! She might snap. But she didn't stop. His gold and purple robe was the first to go. In its place, she painted armor. Silver. Etched with jagged yet beautiful butterflies that matched the tattoo on her back, as well as the tattoo on Gideon's right thigh. Between each of the butterflies was a glowing bolt of lightning.
The knife the Greek sovereign held became a serrated machete crafted for maximum pain. With it, he didn't just slice. He ruined.
Do it. The rest. Gideon had gotten the god's facial features correct. Eyes that mirrored the thunderbolts adorning his armor, snapping, sizzling, glowing. A blade of a nose. Thin lips, but a strong jaw that more than made up for the shortcoming. Zeus had thick, pale hair that curled to his shoulders, the perfect accompaniment to skin the color of bullion. Sometimes, when you looked closely enough, you could see the streaks of lightning shooting through his veins.
Good. Survey done. Only, it wasn't relief she felt. One last detail to change...
Finally, she moved her attention to Steel. Tears instantly burned her eyes, and her shaking increased, nearly toppling her into a sobbing heap. All the while, she could feel helplessness churning inside Gideon. He wasn't here, was merely watching with a mental eye, but his emotions were completely engaged. Everything he felt here, he would feel later, when he awoke.
Do it. Just do it. She shaved Steel's horns down, hating the action, hating herself; the Greeks hadn't wanted the boy to use them as the weapons they'd been. She added patches of scales along the right side of his body. So beautiful. His teeth, she sharpened so that two fangs protruded over his bottom lip. My baby.
Humans would have found the boy grotesque...beastly. She found him lovely. Her heart lurched, so badly did she want to urge him to her chest and hold on forever. My angel. Taken too soon.
Finish it. Gulping again, chin trembling, she lengthened the boy's eyelashes and changed his eye color from black, like hers, to electric blue, like Gideon's. She added several years to his age. Gideon had pictured him as a young boy of eleven or twelve. He'd appeared closer to sixteen, a teenager who had never had the chance to date or make love. A teenager who had never felt worthy or loved, and oh, she knew that feeling well.
In actuality, though, she didn't know if he had dated or loved anyone.
Her tears began to fall freely as she covered him in dirt and bruises, broke his arm, his leg, and added thick scars to his back. Hundreds of them.
There. It was done. For good or ill, it was done. The scene was painted.
And now...now it was time for Gideon to see how things had truly unfolded.
Unsure whether she could live through this again—for Steel, anything for Steel—Scarlet nodded, arms falling heavily to her sides, and each image jerked to sudden life.
"Please don't do this," dream Scarlet begged. "Please. I'll do anything you want." The cut on her lip split, and blood seeped down her chin. "Just leave him alone. Please."
Zeus's hard expression never wavered. "Countless times you've tried to escape, and yet you expect me to offer you a boon? Surely even you couldn't be that foolish."
"He's just a boy. He did nothing wrong. Punish me. Kill me. Just let him go. Please."
"He's not just a boy. He's centuries old."
"Please. Please, Your Highness. Please."
Through it all, Steel kept his head bowed and his eyes averted. He wasn't trembling, he wasn't crying. He was silent, still. Expectant. As if he deserved everything that was to be done to him.
"As long as he lives, you will continue to defy me," Zeus said. "Therefore, he must die. Simple, really."
"I won't try to escape again. I swear it. I'll return to prison and quietly rot there. Please."
"You had that option, daughter of Rhea. Once." Gaze never leaving her, the god king tossed his blade in the air, caught it by the handle. "But I must admit, I do like the thought of your head rolling. Perhaps I was too hasty in selecting who should die. What do you think, Steel? Shall I kill your mother or shall I leave that honor to you?"
At that, Steel finally looked up. Shock curtained his features, overshadowing the acceptance and shame. "M-mother?"