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“We can fight!” Adrestia protested, offended. 

“Yes, like children, I know,” Hades drawled, sounding bored as he rolled his eyes. 

It’d been an hour since the siblings had accepted the idea that the godfather/father they’d come to love was the Greek Lord of the Dead. Now, he was informing them they’d be training soon after breakfast the next day. 

The siblings weren’t strangers to fighting. Bianca experienced it less than Adrestia and Nico, but that was only because she had a much stronger hold on her impulses than they did. Adrestia’s sort of fighting was considered dirty, but in her mind, if no rules had been set before the fight then anything is legal. 

“The sort of training you will receive here will not be like whatever you got up above,” Hades continued, ignoring Adrestia’s pouting. “For one thing, I have access to the greatest warriors the world has ever seen.”

Nico, leaning back against the wall with his arms and legs crossed, said, “So we’ll be trained by ghosts?”

“And skeletons. You’ll need opponents.”

“Oh, a fight that lasts less than five seconds, how exciting!” Adrestia’s face lit up with sarcastic interest. “I’m sure we’ll learn a lot from that.”

Bianca spoke up. “You said in your message that we were in danger, except you didn’t specify. What exactly should we be afraid of? And don’t give us that ‘you don’t need to know’ bullshit – one word from me, and these two,” she gestured to her siblings, “will tackle you just for the fun of it.”

Nico and Adrestia didn’t know if they could tackle an immortal, but there was no harm in trying with one that’d be less likely to hurt them. Hades sized them up. They had no idea if he was considering letting things come to that. Adrestia hoped luck would be on her and her brother’s side. There were little to no stories about Hades in Greek Mythology and she didn’t want to find out what he was like angry; Adrestia made a mental note not to say anything bad about Persephone. 

Hades turned to Adrestia. “Do you remember the night you lost your pendant?”

Adrestia’s jaw clenched. “Yeah.”

“Well, on that night, Zeus – the King of the Gods – visited you, and, as you may remember, you were sleeping in your underwear. He saw, got a bit . . . excited, and tried to have his way with you.”

Adrestia stared at nothing, processing the information she’d been given. A long silence passed. “He what?”

“He tried to fuck you in your sleep,” Nico bluntly provided. 

“I know what “have his way with you” implied, I just don’t see why a guy who’s got no problem getting laid is going after a sixteen-year-old girl.” Something struck in Adrestia’s brain. “Wait, I was asleep. He wasn’t going to fuck me, he was going to rape me,” she said, outraged. She looked like she wanted to kill someone. 

“Yes, and I believe,” Hades said, “he tried a second time a few weeks later, but Orthrus ripped him to shreds, buried him, then peed on him.”

“And for that, he’s getting two new toys, an amazing dinner, and a bedtime story.”

Hades tilted his head in a nod. “I’ll see it done. Anyway, on that first night, it seems your godly parent, your father, Poseidon–”

“That’s the horse fucker, isn’t it?”

Hades paused. “Yes. He came and got rid of Zeus that first time, and your pendant. It seemed he realized I had given it to you, most likely assumed it was dangerous, and got rid of it.”

“Are our pendants dangerous?” Bianca asked, curious more than anything. They’ve had the pendants for as long as they could remember, and they always had a feeling there was something off about them. 

Hades shook his head. He took no offense to the question. “Quite the opposite. I had the pendants enchanted to keep you hidden from monsters, creatures who would kill you without hesitation.”

Adrestia, who’d been nodding along, blurted out, “So Poseidon wants me dead?”

“I don’t think so. I think he didn’t know the true purpose of the pendant and made a choice he thought to be the right one.”

Adrestia’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Which was the wrong one?”

Hades nodded. He led them out of the room and down a series of halls. “Back to my point. All demigods have a scent that makes them easily trackable by monsters. You three of you are children of the Big Three – who are me, Poseidon, and Zeus – and as our children tend to be more powerful, that means–”

“Our scent would be stronger,” Bianca cut in. “I’m guessing the enchantment on our pendants either smothered our scent or got rid of it entirely.”

They went up a spiral staircase. “Something like that,” Hades said. “However, now with Adrestia’s pendant gone and Zeus knowing you exist, I fear your lack of training is going to bite me in the ass.”

“Why didn’t you train us when we were younger?”

“Sally.” Hades didn’t need to elaborate. Every mother would want their children safe, and the pendants would’ve given her a false sense of security. Made her think they’d be an eternal protection and that there’d be no need to tell them about their godly halves. 

They stepped out onto the third floor and into a hall lined with doors. 

“Wait a second,” Nico said. “What’s the deal with Zeus knowing we exist? You make it sound like a death sentence.”

Hades explained the oath he and his brothers had taken after WW2. The prophecy detailing a child of the Big Three would either bring destruction or preservation to Olympus, and Zeus’s paranoia had led to the death of Bianca and Nico’s mother. 

Nico raised his hands. “Wait, wait, wait, wait, hold on.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose as he said, “This happened after World War Two, and you’re saying our mother was killed soon after that war ended, how does. . .”

“Chronologically speaking, Nico,” Hades said in as nice a tone as possible, “you and Bianca should be in your eighties. You,” he nodded to Nico, “were actually born in 1932, and you,” he turned to Bianca, “were born in 1930. The only reason you are still children is because I placed you in the Lotus Casino, a place where time passes slower than in the real world. Five minutes there is roughly a day outside. I had your memories wiped. Then, when I discovered Adrestia’s existence through Sally making me her godfather, I asked her to take you in. I had you deaged so you’d be around the same age as Adrestia.”

Hades gave the siblings a long moment to process what they’ve been told, the implications. 

Bianca and Nico had never felt older. Hearing they had their first life stolen from them felt . . . well, they didn’t know what to feel. How could they miss what they can’t recall? What was, if it had happened during WW2, possibly traumatizing and bleak. But those memories had their biological mother in them. Bianca and Nico loved Sally and everything she did for them, but no one should blame them for wanting to know about who they had before. 

Nico spoke. “So, what you’re saying is that . . . I’m older than Adrestia.”

“That doesn’t mean anything!” she retorted. 

“Hey, don’t talk to your elders that way.”

Adrestia scowled. “You’re not my elder.”

“Chronologically I am.” Nico crossed his arms with a smug smile.

“That doesn’t count!” 

“Does too.”

“Does not!”

“Does too.”

“Alright!” Bianca yelled, getting between the two before they could tear each other apart. “Chronologically or not, I’m older than both of you and I’m telling you two to shut the fuck up.”

Adrestia and Nico grumbled under their breaths but did as they were told. Albeit grudgingly. 

Hades seemed almost amused by their dynamic. He led them down the hall and to their respective rooms. As soon as the siblings got inside, they realized the rooms had been customized especially for them. Each room had a large closet, an ensuite bathroom, a queen-sized bed, a desk, bedside tables, lamps, generic things you’d find in a well-furnished room. 

Bianca’s was neat. A computer laid on the desk, and the bookshelf was stocked with books on marketing and business strategies and battle strategies. A fluffy rug in the middle of the room. Her dog, Maria, slept soundly on the bed.

Nico’s, as to be expected, had a dark and gothic aesthetic to it. Rock band posters decorated the walls. His binder full of Mythomagic cards was on the bedside table along with a bag of figurines, and his bookshelf had books on D&D, gay romances, and horror. 

Adrestia’s room was drowning in blue, not that she was complaining. Her bookshelf had romantasies, comic books, graphic novels; lots of action and thrillers. Her room was more of a mess in the sense that there was too much and too little room, the kind where only she alone knew where anything was. Enough for a walkway to the bed, the bathroom, and closet.

Bianca, Adrestia, and Nico were in the Underworld. 

No, they weren’t dead, and no, they hadn’t been kidnapped or anything like that. 

Two hours ago, Adrestia had received a call from her godfather. It terrified her to say the least, because he never called. Ever. He’s never even sent a voice message, always a text and usually on a holiday or their birthday or to respond to whatever text they sent him. 

Nico could still remember what happened after his sister had been called. 

She’d barged into the room they and Bianca were staying in at the cabin in Montauk, muscles tense and her breathing faster than normal. Nico had never seen her like that. Scared. Not when Gabe threatened them, not when she got into fights or was sent to juvie. She’d been clutching her phone so hard her knuckles were white. Nico could hear it ringing and he wondered who was calling her. Definitely not a friend. He’d closed his book, a desire to protect his sister and yell at whoever was harassing her boiling inside of him. Adrestia barely reacted when Nico snatched her phone from her, eyes blinking as if she’d been freed from a trance. 

Nico raised her phone to his face. His eyes widened in shock, disbelief, and fear when he read the caller ID.  

It  read “Godfather”.

His father was calling her. Why? 

Nico turned to Adrestia. “Is he–?” Adrestia cut him off with a sharp nod. “He never calls us. Why is he calling you?”

Adrestia said a lot without saying anything using facial expression and body language alone. Her mouth opened and closed, brows rose and fell, eyes widened and narrowed, and she waved her arms and hands around, looking like an overly dramatic theater kid who’d been dared to not speak while acting out a play. The entire spectacle would’ve made Nico laugh if they weren’t receiving their first ever call from their godfather/uncle/father. 

Their eyes snapped to Adrestia’s phone as the call ended. There would’ve been a sigh of relief . . . if  a voicemail hadn’t been left. 

Tentatively, Adrestia tapped it; the siblings held their breaths. A deep, oily voice brimming with authority echoed, “Adrestia, Nico, Bianca – pack your things. You’re in danger. I’m bringing you back to my palace for training. Do not fight this.”

They didn’t know what to say so they said nothing. Silence. 

A wrinkle appeared between Adrestia’s brows as she met her brother’s eyes. “Did he say palace?”

“Am I a prince?” Nico questioned no one in particular, face twisting in curiosity. 

Adrestia put her hands on her hips and straightened. “If you are, I’m killing you for the throne.” Despite the seriousness of her voice, he caught the hint of humor lingering beneath.

A ghost of a smirk appeared on Nico’s face, and he feigned anger. “I’d like to see you try. I’m not giving it up without a fight.” He raised his fists. 

After a small round of play fighting, Nico and Adrestia rushed outside to show their parents the voicemail. They expected to be told the message was a scam or something despite the unlikeliness of it, but the expression on their mother’s face said otherwise. She looked afraid and nervous at the same time. Her eyes were wide, lips parted like breath had been stolen from her and she fought to replace it. 

Sally ordered them to pack their things. The siblings did without argument. Even in a situation like this, they’ll do what she says and ask questions later. 

They obeyed when she told them to leash their dogs, and again when she told them to enter the fancy limo SUV that’d suddenly appeared like stormy clouds that decided to fuck up someone’s day. Adrestia wanted to demand answers, but her mother’s soft expression silenced her. Nico, Bianca, and Adrestia placed their luggage in the back of the limo, kissed and hugged their family goodbye, instructed their dogs into the backseat, and stepped inside. 

“I love you guys. Be good,” Sally said, before shutting the door. 

Author’s Note: As I told one of the commenters - on Wattpad - this chapter will be a doozy (my opinion) ‘cause someone’s gonna die. They didn’t want it to be Nico or Bianca, and I have thought over the request, but we’ll just have to read who it might be.

Aside from telling Adrestia about the schools her godfather mentioned, Paul and Sally never brought up her expulsion. This hadn’t been the first time she was expelled, but like always, they hope it's the last. 

She was still sulking about her lost pendant, making faces as she stroked the base of her neck and remarking that her reflection felt off. One night, Paul entered her room with a small weathered box and sat on the edge of her bed. 

“What’s that?” Adrestia asks, stopping the video on her phone and pulling out an earbud. 

“A family heirloom,” Paul answers, lifting the lid of the box. Inside was a golden necklace with a thin chain and a scratched, opaque emerald cut in a circular pattern surrounded by small diamonds. “It was my great-grandmother’s. I meant to give it to Estelle when she was older, since she’s the only one without a necklace, but I am willing to give it to you just until your godfather can find your pendant. And so you’ll stop brooding.”

Adrestia scoffs in amusement, lips slowly curling into a grin. 

Paul smiles, warmth filling his brown eyes. “There’s that smile.”

She sits up, grabbing a handful of her thick hair and coiling it into a bun. Her stepfather, who she regards as her actual father, leans over and clasps it around her neck, the metal chilling her skin. 

Paul hums in thought. “It brings out your eyes.”

“It’s an emerald,”Adrestia murmurs, letting go of her hair and lifting the jewel to get a better look at it. “Anything green always seems to bring out my eyes.” She looks up at him. “Thank you. I’ll try not to lose this one, even though I have absolutely no idea how I lost the last one.”

Paul ruffles her hair, laughing off her playful scowl. He stands and leaves the room. Adrestia takes another moment to examine the necklace, her eyes roving over each scratch, each evidence of wear and tear. It felt symbolic in a way. Despite everything the necklace went through, the horrors it must’ve lived through, it was still here, still wearable, still alive. 

It couldn’t replace the one she’d mysteriously lost, but it did feel nice to not feel like there was something wrong with her appearance.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The expulsion was steadily forgotten about as the family neared the day they’d leave for their annual vacation to Montauk, something they looked forward to all year, every year.

Four weeks before, when Adrestia and Nico were still at Yancy, Sally and Paul constructed a list of tasks with deadlines and divided it up among them and their three oldest children. Planning always started weeks before. It prevented unnecessary stress while using up the ADHD kids energy.

As usual, the parents were in charge of booking the cabin and itinerary, as they’d be visiting the nearby parks and having a technology-free week. However, they would be keeping their phones on them in case of emergencies. 

Two weeks before the trip, Adrestia heads to the nearby Target to buy some board games and books. Every year, they’d buy one to three new games before going on their trip. It was part of their tradition. New games brought a sense of excitement and rage. Plus, the ones they barely played would be donated to Toys for Tots. 

A small smile grows on Adrestia’s face. 

Before Gabe died and her family was struck with an endless amount of good luck, they were poor. Dirt poor. Gabe would use up most of the money Sally earned on gambling, cigars and beer. The only reason the kids could go to McDonald’s, field trips, and still experience Christmas and birthdays was due to Mr. Di Angelo, who would receive drawings and thank-you letters afterwards. Gabe once tried to use the money from the bank accounts Mr. Di Angelo set up to deposit child support, but returned from the bank incredibly pale and sweaty. He refused to talk about it. Adrestia vividly recalls the imperceptible smirk on her mother’s face, and how a single word always sent Gabe back to that petrified state. 

Hades. 

Sally told them it was the name of their guardian angel.

During one of Gabe’s many drunken rampages, Adrestia had shouted it while curled up in a ball with her hands protecting her head. Everything went quiet for a moment. Then, he started crying and begging for his life.

They would always shout “Hades!” whenever Gabe tried to hurt them, and he’d always back off. Not for long, though. Despite that, the name became a sort of comfort for them. They were convinced their guardian angel was the Greek God of the Dead because the name didn’t appear anywhere else. Their parents humored them.

Four hours later, Adrestia heads home with two new board games, a thousand piece puzzle of a Seaside Cottage, and dozens of new books for her and her family. Except Bianca; she has a kindle.

A day before the trip, Nico and Bianca drove to nearby stores for toiletries, snacks, dog treats, perishables, and meats for barbecue. 

“We should get some corn for corn on the cob,” Bianca says to her brother in Italian. “Dad told me that’s the only way they could get Estelle to eat corn.”

Nico nods. “Did mom say what kind of desserts she and dad’ll make?”

“Uh. . . “ she trails off as she thinks, “I’m pretty sure she said Moussaka –”

“Of course.” Nico drops a large steak in the cart.

“– tiramisu and affogato –”

Nico pumps his fist and mouths ‘yes’.

“– and baklava cigars.”

“Finally, I have something to smoke with my wine,” Nico dryly quips. 

Bianca makes a sound between a scoff and a chuckle, and she lightly hits her brother upside the head. He dramatically falls forward, bracing himself on the freezer to avoid making a mess as he slowly lays down on the ground to make it seem like she hit him harder than she actually did. His sister laughs, shaking her head.

After paying, they returned to the apartments. Waiting on the street was their mother, Estelle, and Adrestia, who was firmly gripping the leashes of the muzzled Cane Corsos. The dogs sat obediently by the three of them, curiously eyeing the passersby while patiently waiting for someone to pet them. Their tails wagged, an expectant look in their eyes everytime they locked gazes with someone. Orthrus would look up at his owner and whine, as if to complain that no one saw what a good boy he was being. Adrestia leaned down and patted his head. “It’s okay, sweetie,” she cooed. “Even if no one else does, I think you’re the goodest boy ever.”

Bianca parks by the sidewalk, and Nico opens the sliding door. At the sight of the door opening, the dogs abruptly stand, scaring a few pedestrians in the process, and wait for a command.

Every month, the dogs would be professionally groomed. They’d sometimes be cleaned by their owners, Paul, or Sally if they smelled from rain or caked themselves in mud. They were large, playful animals with high amounts of energy, so getting dirty was to be expected and they didn’t want them to accidentally scratch anyone. The dogs knew the routine by heart, and knew they’d get a treat and some pets afterward.

Sally hands Bianca and Nico heavy-duty bags and they begin playing tetris with the groceries as they place them inside, making small-talk while Estelle pretends she’s playing hopscotch on the sidewalk and Adrestia leans against the building watching Youtube videos. The sixteen-year-old’s eyes darted up every few seconds to make sure her sister was still there and hadn’t been kidnapped, or that there wasn’t anyone around planning on doing that. The heels of her feet rise and fall, as though preparing to break into a run should a scenario like that happen. Adrestia loved skateboarding and had taken up track in middle and high school, so unless the kidnappers had a van, they’re going to wake up in the hospital and will spend the rest of their life in a wheelchair. 

Adrestia smiles to herself. I’d like to see them try to kidnap a kid when they can’t even walk.

“Estelle,” Sally calls out over her shoulder. “Come help me with these bags!”

The young girl stops what she’s doing and walks over, heaving one of the bags over her shoulder. The sudden added weight throws her off balance and she stumbles back, landing on her butt. She would’ve collided with Maria and Crimson had the dogs not moved out of the way. Almost immediately, she’s being ferociously sniffed by the concerned animals; Estelle breaks into giggles. 

“It tickles!” she exclaims, writhing on the ground and covering her face with her hands.

Adrestia steps back, turning her phone on its side to take a photo of the scene. “Sweetheart,” Sally calls out with an amused smile. “Get the dogs away from your sister before she breaks a rib or something. Oh, and send me that picture.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” Adrestia softly sings, missing a few notes. “You make me happy when skies are gray. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you, and if they ever try to take you away from me, they’re going to wish I just killed them ‘cause ruthlessness isn’t always mercy.”

Night had fallen hours ago. A suitcase, a backpack filled with carefully packaged books and candy, and another backpack full of treats and toys were lined up against the closet door. It was currently 8:48, and everyone was either getting ready for bed or already asleep. 

Adrestia laid on her bed in her light-blue pj’s, cradling her massive dog against her chest, and singing him a lullaby she made up from several songs she’s heard. Orthrus’s eyes are shut and his tail is wagging contentedly, hitting the mattress in a rhythmic motion. She grabs the blanket and pulls it over the both of them, stopping it at his neck as she hums. 

Placing a kiss on the top of his head, Adrestia continues, “They’ll have it coming. They have no one else to blame, and anyone would do the same. I’ll keep you safe from harm. Now, fall off to sleep. I’m not meaning to keep you.” She kisses his head again. “Sweet dreams, Orthrus. I love you.”

The Cane Corso deeply inhales before exhaling as though his day of being pampered tuckered him out as much as someone working a forty-hour work week.

Adrestia gets comfy beside him, draping an arm over her dog and closing her eyes. The lavender shampoo the groomer had used fills her nostrils, the soft fur beneath her fingertips calming her nerves. Her eyes flutter shut, and her body relaxes as she slips into a deep sleep.

Midnight comes.

Attuned to even the most minute sounds, Orthrus’s ears perk up at the soft thudding of approaching footsteps. On any other night, he’d ignore it. It’d be most likely one of his mistress’s family going to the bathroom or getting a drink of water, but these footsteps were off. They were heavier, and they weren’t leading to the bathroom or the kitchen. They were coming straight for his mistress’s bedroom.

Orthrus wriggles out from under his mistress’s arm and doesn’t make a sound as he lands on the floor, lowering his body and slinking into the darkness. His shoulders are hunched, muscles taut in preparation, his unblinking eyes flashing a murderous red hue as he waits. In seconds, he changes to what he truly is.

One. Footsteps stop in front of the door; Orthrus begins to grow to the size of a grizzly bear. 

Two. The door creaks open.

Three. In steps Zeus.

The god tiptoes towards the bed, a smirk curling his lips. “No daddy to protect you now,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, “and your family is fast asleep. You’re all –”

A low growl steals his attention. When Zeus turns, all he sees staring back at him is a pair of deep red eyes and a large maw lined with razor-sharp teeth. His smug expression falls, confusion knitting his brows. His eyes widened, fear flickering in the electric-blue depths. “Oh, how in the name of Tartarus did she get her hands on one of you?” He takes a step back. 

With a snarl, the Hellhound pounces and teleports them to an isolated location through the shadows. 

In milliseconds, he’s a chew toy. Zeus barely has time to react, much less to grab his lightning bolt. The Hellhound pins him down, its claws slashing at his expensive suit to get to the supple flesh. He digs and digs with malicious fervor while the god thrashes until ichor seeps from his wounds. Then, he digs some more.

“Get–off!” Zeus growls, an inhuman sound that urges Orthrus to keep going. He latches onto Zeus’s shoulder, his canines chipping the bone, and he swings the god around like a ragdoll. “Put me down!” the god demands, tone laced with pain. “Put me down, you vicious mutt!” 

Orthrus lays him down, placing a paw on his chest and begins pulling at his right arm as though his mistress had told him to “pull himself up by his bootstraps” and he was determined to do as she said. His head twists and turns, jaws unclenching and clenching, searching for the weak spot. Sinew and muscle tears with a wet, squelching sound, accompanied by the gritty shattering of bone as Orthrus pries Zeus’s arm off. He throws it to the side, the god roaring in utter agony. Ichor gushes out from where his arm had been in thick spurts, painting the forest floor a glistening gold. 

“You stupid mutt,” Zeus says, his breathing ragged. “Look what you did. . . . look what you fucking did!”

Orthrus bares his teeth and growls, ichor dripping down his chin. It was clear he did not like being insulted, unless it was by his mistress or her family and he was genuinely being a bad boy. 

A few minutes later, the Hellhound is burying pieces of Zeus six feet beneath the dirt, peeing on the mound to show dominance.

He shadow travels to the Underworld, where Hades is luckily still awake. The god was irritated at being disturbed, but understood that the Hellhound couldn’t return home covered in blood and dirt. He snaps his fingers. In seconds, Orthrus was as clean as he was when picked up from the groomers earlier that day. Hades spritzs him with a light amount of lavender and sends him on his way.

Back in his Cane Corso form, Orthrus pads through the room and leaps into bed. He nudges Adrestia’s shoulder with his snout. The teenager's arm subconsciously rises, giving him enough wriggle room to slide under it. He does so, cuddling against his mistress. He nudges her again, this time her face. 

After a few seconds, a corner of Adrestia’s lip curls as she groans. “What?” she mumbles, her voice groggy from sleep. 

Orthrus softly whines. 

“Do you want a kiss?”

He nudges her cheek. 

She sighs, tired but slightly amused that he wanted affection in the middle of the night.