Chapter 86: Daughter of Aphrodite
He’d underestimated Jason.
Not as a threat. The kid couldn’t overpower him if Shiro gave him a ten-second head start and closed both eyes. It was something worse than that. Something harder to fight.
He trusted him.
Blindly. Stupidly. The kind of trust where even if Jason stabbed him in the back, and Shiro knew it was him, and the knife was still in his hand—if Jason said "it wasn’t me," Shiro would believe him.
That was dangerous.
It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t magic either. Not like the orange-haired girl, whose voice did something strange to his head every time she spoke. A pull, a softness, like his thoughts were being gently rearranged without his permission. Almost like hypnosis.
Jason’s voice had none of that. No spell. No charm. No trick. It was just genuine. Raw. The kind of honesty that didn’t need a godly blessing to make people listen.
And that explained everything.
The crew hadn’t suddenly turned friendly toward Shiro because they’d forgiven him. They hadn’t flipped a switch and decided the man who threatened to erase them was actually great company. No. They were friendly because Jason trusted him. That was it. That was the whole reason.
These people had so much faith in one man that his trust was their trust. His judgment was their judgment. If Jason said Shiro was safe, then Shiro was safe.
Which was terrifying.
Once they’d devoured the entire carcass, everyone went about their day. Talking. Stretching. Trying to keep themselves busy since there wasn’t much to do in the middle of the ocean besides exist and wait.
While he was sitting in the corner, playing with the twins, Jason appeared in front of him. And he wasn’t alone.
Three kids stood behind him, looking like they’d rather be anywhere else.
"They’re the children of Aphrodite. They might be able to help you." He said it with a massive smile on his face.
Shiro stared at him. He wasn’t sure if the smile was practiced or just came naturally.
’You’re truly something else, you know that?’
The three of them stood behind him. The orange -haired girl he met earlier. A boy with black hair. Another girl, blonde. They all shared the same features. Beautiful in that effortless, almost unfair way that made you wonder if ugly was even a word in their family.
But despite all that, they looked nervous. Fidgeting. Eyes darting. Not one of them making direct eye contact with him.
’They’re still afraid of me.’
He sighed.
Jason dropped down beside him and leaned onto his shoulder like they were lifelong friends who’d survived a war together. "They’re not scared of you. They’re just nervous."
’Sure. Tell that to the kid who hasn’t blinked in four minutes.’
Shiro turned to them. They still couldn’t meet his eyes. And the more he looked, the more he realized Jason was right. It wasn’t fear. It was something else.
"Well..." The orange-haired girl spoke up. Her voice came out shaky, the kind of shaky that only happens when you’re trying very hard not to sound shaky. "Last time I went to see Mother, she was..." She paused. Searched for the right word, but gave up. "Busy."
Another pause.
"With someone. And he was terrifying. Kept me in a room for hours for disturbing their date."
’Oh. So it’s not me. It’s the boyfriend.’
He almost felt offended.
Shiro got to his feet and met her eyes. "I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen this time."
She let out a breath. Some of the tension in her shoulders escaped with it.
"I can take you to her," she said softly.
He grabbed her hand with both of his, excitement written all over his face. "Thank you."
Her face went bright red. The words came out tangled, breathless. "It’s—it’s okay." She glanced down at their hands, then quickly away. "P-please, you can... let go of my hand now," she mumbled.
Jason laughed, holding the twins.
Shiro didn’t know why, but the more he looked at her, something felt off. During breakfast she’d been fine. Calm, steady, the one who’d walked up and handed him a plate without flinching. Now she could barely look at him.
’Did I do something?’
Probably had.
He ran through the last hour in his head. Came up with nothing useful. He’d been sitting in a corner playing with babies the whole time. Hard to offend someone while a one-year-old was actively trying to eat your finger.
He glanced at Jason. Jason was still laughing.
’What.’
Time passed. When the sun began to set, Shiro and Alexis—the orange-haired girl—went to Shiro’s room. The other two children of Aphrodite stayed behind. They didn’t want to walk in on their mother.
And before they met her, Alexis wanted to give him the full story.
"The only way to meet Mother is through dreams," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "She doesn’t appear in the waking world. Not for us. Not anymore."
"Why not?"
Alexis hesitated.
"It’s... complicated."
He leaned back against the bed frame, settling the twins more comfortably on his lap, and gestured for her to continue. He was curious where this story was going.
"So," she started, "Mother is married. To Hephaestus. God of the forge."
"Mhm."
"He’s a good husband." She said it carefully, and Shiro already knew. ’In other words, he wasn’t good looking.’
"Devoted. Talented. He built her the most beautiful palace on Olympus."
"But?"
"But he wasn’t the best looking." Her voice dropped. "She’s also... seeing someone else."
’And there it is.’
"Ares," she whispered. Like the name itself might summon him. Which, knowing how Hera just walks into his dreams, it probably could. "God of war. They’ve been..." She searched for the right word. "Involved. For a very long time."
Shiro nodded slowly. Forcing himself to keep his face perfectly neutral. The twins giggled.
"And Hephaestus knows?"
"He suspects."
"Suspects."
"He’s set traps."
Shiro’s lips twitched. He bit the inside of his cheek. "Traps."
"Many of them." She was speaking faster now. "He’s a craftsman. A genius. So whenever he leaves Olympus for work, he sets up nets, mechanisms, enchantments. Anything to catch them in the act."
"And?"
"He caught them. Once."
"Oh." Still trying to hold back the laughter.
"There was a golden net. Invisible. Strung above the bed. When they..." She gestured vaguely. The vaguest gesture in the history of gestures. "It dropped. Trapped them both. Together. Unable to move."
"And then Hephaestus..." Alexis closed her eyes. "Called every god on Olympus to come and look."
That was the moment Shiro lost it.
It started as a snort. He tried to swallow it. The snort, sensing weakness, doubled in size. He burst out laughing.
The twins lit up at the sound. Selene laughed because he laughed. Aurora laughed because Selene laughed. Pretty soon the three of them were giggling, and Alexis was staring at him like he’d just insulted her entire bloodline. Which, in fairness, he kind of was.
"This isn’t funny," she said.
"It’s a little funny."
"Shiro."
"He set up a net. Above the bed." He wiped his eye with the back of his hand. "He invited the whole family over to look. That’s—that’s incredible. That’s better than anything I could have come up with, and I’ve had some thoughts."
"It was deeply humiliating."
"I’m sure it was." He was still laughing. "That’s what makes it good."
Alexis pinched the bridge of her nose.
"So that’s why we have to use dreams," she pushed on, determined to finish her own story before Shiro made it worse. "After that, they stopped meeting in the waking world. Too many eyes. Too many traps. The dream realm is the only place Hephaestus can’t reach. So that’s where they go now. That’s where she’ll be."
"The goddess of love," Shiro said slowly, "is sneaking around in dreams. Because her husband keeps catching her."
"Yes."
"With nets."
"Yes."
"And you want me to just walk into one of these dreams and say hi before catching them with a net again."
"Yes."
A pause. The kind of pause where you could practically hear her brain catching up to her mouth.
Her eyes widened.
"Absolutely not."
Shiro lost it again. Full-body, head-tipped-back, can’t-breathe laughing. The kind of laugh that wasn’t going to stop just because she wanted it to.
"Shiro—"
"Imagine it though..."
"No."
"She and Ares, just hanging out, you and I sneak behind them—"
"Stop it—"
"—holding a tiny little net—"
She tried. She really did. She held it together for about three more seconds, lips pressed flat, jaw clenched.
Then a small sound escaped her. A snort. Half a laugh she’d swallowed too late.
And once it was out, the rest came tumbling after.
She covered her face with both hands, shoulders shaking. "I hate you."
"We throw the net and scream—found you two!"
"Stop—" She shoved his shoulder, but she was laughing too hard for it to land properly. He could see it on her face. She was picturing it. Two gods. Mid-affair. Caught. Twin looks of pure, ancient horror. "Then when they realize it’s a demigod pranking them, they’ll kill us."
"Not if we give them a heart attack first," Shiro muttered.
"Do gods even have heart attacks?"
Shiro shrugged. "I don’t know. But we can find out."
They laughed for a moment longer, and waited until the twins had fallen asleep.
