She had explored the entire island in an hour.
The trees were nothing she'd ever seen before, hard and sharp. The leaves were papery thin, but they pricked her fingers. A pathetic tangle of huddled shrubs that fluttered in the sea breeze when the wind howled. She tried to see if it was edible, placed it on her lips, waiting for the ring of light to snap into place. And then she chewed.
It disintegrated like ash.
It tasted like shit.
She spat. She took a rock and hammered it against the bark. The sap had a stink to it that reminded her of rot. It didn't look edible, so she ignored it. Beyond the meagre trees was that strip of sand, grey from the ocean. There were no shells to pick, nothing living on the cliffs. The rocks were sharp under her feet, and there were some tufts of grass growing along the dangerous-looking ridges, too steep and slippery for her to climb over.
She didn't try to go any further than that, lest she be smacked onto the ground once again by her chains. The island was more of a rock than anything else, like a giant skull, a fragment of bone protruding over a planet consumed by an ocean. And then there was the lighthouse that stood at the very heart of the island, its crown casting a sweep of light across the sea. At night, the beam sank through the fog that smelled like salt and wet stone.
It seemed to be a signal.
Was it a signal for the Titans?
But the island was too damn small to be real. It must have been made, she realised. Everything was created to be her own personal nightmare. She considered licking the walls of the lighthouse, water beading over it like perspiration. But she could smell the salt, feel the crust of it on the surface. She searched the room that night for anything else, some kind of fucking survival manual.
Nothing.
She sighed.
Just the rope.
That was it.
"I'm going to die," she called to no one. "Are you all just waiting for me to wither away? Is that the fucking strategy?" And then she raged. "I don't have powers to get me through this; you know exactly what I can do." She stabbed a finger into the fog. "Humans need water! You can't just put me here! I won't survive!"
No answer.
"I die in three days without water!"
Fuck.
The next day, her body began to disagree with her. Her stomach turned; her hands shook. Dehydration was the problem. At this point, she didn't give a fuck whether the trees were nasty. She stared at the trees all night, the lighthouse beam sweeping across the island, illuminating the shrubs. She made a decision then; she wasn't going to let them starve her.
She'd have to eat it.
If it poisoned her, her captors would come.
She hacked at the bark again with a rock until sap oozed from deep within, bubbling free. She licked it, desperation completely overriding the stench of rot. It was bitter, fire coating her mouth, and she resisted the urge to retch. Bile rose, mixing with the sap, and it clung to her teeth, impossible to rinse out.
It was fucking disgusting.
Suddenly, panic spiked in her a little too late.
What if it gave her food poisoning? She'd lose a lot of water. She paced backwards. But paused. They wanted her to eat this; she realised. If they didn't, they'd stop her.They couldn't really allow her to die. She went for the leaves next; they melted on her tongue, caked her throat with dust. A bigger handful was sour with a chemical tang to its aftertaste. She forced herself to swallow.
Inedible.
She vomited it out; she couldn't stop herself.
Precious fucking water lost.
She did another circuit of the island, crawled on her hands and knees, and scoured the pools for anything she could find. Fish, crabs, shells. But the water was too dark, and when she sniffed the ocean, it was too salty to drink; a tongue out confirmed that. Her stomach screamed. She dragged herself back to the beach, sat huddled on the shore, and stared into the endless ocean. Her lips were cracked, and she felt like a shell of herself.
Her mind was in a blur.
She was a prisoner.
An unfed one.
This was torture.
And for just a second, she thought she saw something on the horizon, swimming under the surface, gliding silently. A dark, massive shadow. And this time her hunger transformed into dread, a knot of terror, and then a rush of curiosity. The circle around her ankle suddenly glowed, thrummed as if warning her away.
There was something in the water.
Stay inside.
She scoffed.
*
Rue must have fallen asleep at some point.
Because in the blink of an eye, Valentino stood a few paces away from her in the shadows. His eyes burned into her, too blue, too hard, steady. He was shrouded in darkness like some kind of ghostly corpse. She could barely make out his face. But she knew it was Valentino, knew it from his eyes. She wanted to leap at him; she wanted to hold him.
She couldn't smell him.
"Valentino?" she yelled into the void, rising to her feet. "What the fuck is this? Where the fuck am I?" She knew immediately that it was not just a dream; it tasted like his powers, like the spice of his Eros.
"You were right to eat the trees," his voice echoed, too static. He shimmered, blurred like some kind of bad television image. She paused. "But dig for the roots. Roast them. There's fish in the water you can eat. Try to look under the island."
"Why am I chained here with no fucking food or water?" She gasped out, a hideous, broken sound. "I can't survive like this. How the fuck is this a prison? Can't you feed me?"
"The Council wanted to see what you can do," Valentino explained. She could barely make out his features. Her whole body trembled. "They mean to push you to your limits. They want proof that you're not a threat."
"With fucking survival?" she screamed. "I'm not built for this. I haven't eaten in days, do you understand? Look me in the fucking eye!" Her tears were flowing. "Tell me why the fuck am I starving to death on this rock? Tell me why I mean so little to you—"
"They'll push you to the brink of death, and restart again just to see if they're watching," his voice cut her off.
And she froze, understanding lashing through her. They had wanted to see if she would do something, if her new situation would unlock fucked-up Elder God powers. They wanted to see if she could call upon her brethren. They were also trying to see if the Titans would rescue her, if Edmund would rescue her. A fucked up smile stretched across her cheeks.
"It is only because of us that there's food and water on the island."
"Food and fucking water?" She felt delirious. The trees? They weren't edible. "How the fuck is that—"
"They want you to be weakened, so that the Titans might come. If you are what you are, then you are precious to them." He exhaled. "They will stop your death if it comes to it. They measure your vitals."
Terror ran through her veins. They were willing to have her tortured this way. "So they'd break me to get what they want?" she roared. His lips parted, and his hands seemed to flex as if he wanted to hold her, but he couldn't move. "You're an emperor, Valentino. You're an emperor, so why can't you help me—"
"You're an Omega, Rue." His expression twisted, then cooled. "We should not care that much for you. That is the truth." His words shocked her. It stumbled over her. It burned right through her; her heart was cracking in two. The same fucking line. The same fucking excuse. It was always about being an Omega.
Always.
This was rejection.
Just like that.
They had given up.
She was alone.
Her true mates did not want to save her.
She had no way out.
"Fuck," she breathed. "You believe them. You really do think I did something to you. That I enthralled you." She exhaled. "Fuck." Hope dashed. Her body chilled. She fucked up by believing Alphas. She really did. Fucking men. "Valentino, seriously?" Her eyes burned. "You're my mate. We're mates."
He was silent; there was something wrong with his pupils. The way they remained sharp, not dilated as they usually were with her. The way his shoulders sagged, veins glittering and pulsing up his neck. "I'm on your side," he said. Her heart fucking fell. His voice was far too monotonous. Her Omega was crying. There was something wrong with him. "For now, I can only come to you in dreams when the Council is not looking. Your charges will be cleared once the Titans come and there is proof of your innocence."
"What if the Elder Gods don't come for me?" she cried. It seemed impossible now. How could her innocence be cleared just by the capture of those insects? She was an Elder God just like they were. Her heart quickened. "That monster tried to kill me—"
"They will come—"
"What if they don't! What if they don't fucking care! What if I'm not the only one?" she snarled, despair growing. "There are a million other harlots all over the galaxy, women they must have fucked, must have tried to breed. How can it be just my mom? How can there be just me? There could be another Hera girl you don't know of! They tried to kill me, I'm fucking dispensable, can't you all tell?"
Her words shook her, too honest, too hot.
"Are you even listening to me?" Her words snapped out, and despair rose. "Valentino, I can't survive here. I'm not who they think I am. I'm not that strong. I'm just a girl from a shitty port. I just wanted to be rich. I just wanted to live happily. I just wanted food on the table and a nice house. I just wanted to eat without being used. Please, please, if I mean anything to you at all—"
Her hands reached, desperate for flesh, but her fingers went right through him. The air where his heart should be buzzed, cold and metallic. Rue froze, her breath ragged, her nails clutching at nothing. The image of Valentino flickered once, like a candle guttering in the wind, then steadied again. A hologram in a dream of his making? That was odd, but she had no time to dwell on it.
"I need your help, Valentino," she whispered shakily. She felt useless; she felt weak. She felt pathetic. "Please tell them it's a mistake. That I'm just an Omega. I'm not going to survive. I'm going to lose my mind here, and there's something in the water—"
"There's a monster in the water," he repeated too coldly. "Its name is Cetus."
And she awoke with tears down her cheeks, tasting like salt on her tongue.
Fuck.
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