Leaneira Jackson didn't believe in soulmates.

She didn't care if they were a 'Blessing from God bestowed upon man'. She didn't even believe in Big Daddy G.

Nor did she believe in Big Daddy Z, O, S, R, et cetera. She was a proud atheist. She didn't believe in things like Fate, astrology, reading ley lines, tarot cards, or even ouija boards. She didn't care about "life after death".

(She was going to be dead.)

Lea did not care about any of that no matter how much her Mother tried to get her to reconsider.

(She had jokingly printed out the scripture from the bible: "Matthew 10:14 If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words, leave that home or town and shake the dust off your feet." And hung it up in her room. Her Mother grimaced every time she saw it, but at least she stopped preaching to her to convert to hellenism.)

And then—

Like all females, on the night of her twelfth birthday, when the clock struck midnight, she arched from her bed, a scream clawing from her throat as Khaos dug into her flesh… into her soul and branded her wife a mark that would follow her even after death. She had not realized it then…did not even know it then… but every tear that she shed while her Mother and Brother did their best to soothe her pain filled cries… as her Step-Father—disgusting vermin that he was—even tried to offer comfort as a power older than the universe reached within the cosmos and bound her soul with another with careful swipes of divinity; a branding that shimmered like the stars over her tender breasts.

Hypnos beating his shady wing sent her rest within his embrace, unbothered by the lettering that was bleeding amongst her smooth skin.

Ἑρμης Μαιαδος Ὑιος


Augê nor Anatolê, of the twelve circling Hôrai had yet risen to guide the paths of Hêlios, Êôs, and Hêmera.

But—

It was the stroke of midnight when Hermês felt Khaos reach within the cosmos and bind his soul to another with careful swipes of divinity; a branding that shimmered like the ever-laughing waves hidden beneath his chlamys.

Λεανείρας Ἁλοσυδνη

The young god fell to his knees before his half-brother, Apollôn who was quick to turn him about, desperate to find what garnished such pain filled screams from him, loud with the power to shake the many-folded peak of Olympos.

And he, the hêgêtôr oneirôn, the god who had it in his power to send refreshing sleep or to take it away, found himself within the demos oneiron, where the tribe of Oneiroi attended to him.

In his sleep, the god saw a rosy-cheek maiden with piercing eyes as if someone had managed to liquidize emerald jewels. Dark-haired she was as if Nyx had taken the feathers of her dark wings and placed them upon her head, crowned with crocus. She raised a brow at him, uncaring or better yet, unknowing that he was a god of great stature for he was the son of Zeus! "Well," she muttered, the image of her blurring at the edges. "My fate—" She snorted derisively. "Is tied to you and hangs in the balance: it is up to you whether we meet before I die."

"In the face of mates of the soul, nothing else mattered. Not ever-ageing Time nor I or my brother, Phoibos, beings of distance. Hermaphroditos even stands still, allowing his well to dry out. The Moirai, who spin the threads of life, at the helm of necessity, direct fate, and watch that the fate assigned to every being by eternal laws might take its course without obstruction; and Zeus, as well as the other gods and man, have to submit to them. So, worry not, my blessing from Khaos, I will find you and I will have you, and through our union, you will stand beside me before my Father and his Fathers before him, for our love will be as deathless as the gods that walk the earth."

"Pretty words for a pretty man," The girl smiled sharply, eyes glinting with cruel amusement. "I do not know your name. It's a foreign language, but if you're so sure that we will find each other well… Run, run as fast you can. Let's see if you can catch me. I'm the Gingerbread man."

Her image blurred even more as if they were both awakening and yet—before her image could disappear, Hermês mimicked her expression. "The trickster fox ate the gingerbread man in the end."

Her laugh sounded around them like twinkling bells, sending ripples of sound throughout the demos oneiron. "I always thought the hares and bunny rabbits were better tricksters."

As light shone over them both, he could not help but to mutter: "A woman after my heart." Hares were his sacred animals after all.

He awakened within the healing halls of Theoi tou Iatrikoi, his own eyes as bright as polish jade fixed with determination.

He will find her, the hêmithea of his dreams, for only those born from the blood of the gods—directly for the blood of their legacies were stained even more with the touch of mortality— could be chosen as the mates of deities.

Huákinthos, son of Kleiô, after his premature death, was transported by the Fates to Olympus where he lives forever deathless within the embrace of Apollôn.

Hermês cared not for how long it would take for he should find her and make her his.


Lea was being stalked.

She was not sure how she knew it. The stalker left nothing, but the weight of their unrelenting gaze as they followed her about for the last month. The only ones that took her seriously about it were her brother, his friend, Grover, and her own friends, Trent and Medea.


Hermês watched her silently, hidden from sight as she hid away in the library. It had taken him a surprising three months to find her. The sea had always been mysterious, and none were forthcoming of the children that reside within waves. They had their own camps after all, why would a surface dweller need to know? Some had rightly suspected a simádi psychís, but he was Hermês Poikilomêtês; there was no conversation that he could not turn in his favor and thus the rumors of his mark stayed that: rumors.

Still, it had taken him some time, but he had managed to track down the child. And to think that it was Kheirôn, who had been fostering suspicion from the sons of Kronos, that led him to her.

She was a small thing, but she was powerful. She and her brother—both of whom should not be alive. He was Hermês Mêkhaniôtês and the power that waft from them underneath that disgusting mortal stench which he could trace back to horrible pig-eye mortal man burned brightly with divinity of the Olympioi—of the Kronides—of the Sea. And worse, he was a little unnerved to see that there were latin demigods with them. So close to his mate at that. Sure, when he took her as his bride then she would come to know them, but it was much too soon.


Lea could feel those eyes on her again, but she could not tell where they were coming from for the life of her. Sitting tense in her seat, she casually sharpened her pencil just in case she had to shank someone. The librarian had just walked into the backroom also.

She was thankful when Percy stormed into the library like a whirlwind, frustration painting his features. Her brother plopped himself heavily in the chair beside her. Lea snorted quietly, turning her attention back to her notebook.

"Bad day," she muttered. Percy groaned into his arms, relaxing when she raised her hand to run her hands through his hair.

"I definitely tanked my final," he muttered, lifting his head to look at his sister. She grimaced, eyes darting to her own notebook. Her final was the next period. "Pretty sure that I only got half of the bonus question right."


Hermês kept himself still as he thought of his options. He would have to be careful. This was his khaos-blessed after all. To present her before the Olympioi council would mean to risk her life, and he was nothing but loyal to his Father. And yet—to do so ran the risk of courting the wrath of his Uncle. He, whose wrath was infamous even amongst the immortals.

Still, just as he was the god of the birds of omen—he did not miss the sight of the Dusky turtle-dove sacred to the Moirai that sat upon the windowsill—he was also Hermês Khthonios and knew that he was welcomed to see her within domos Aïdao. And if he so desired, he knew that Dionysos Khthonios would raise her from earth.

Tis was almost like his half-sister all over again. Except—it was not. Thalia may have had Hermês' son's named engraved in her soul, but this one—this Leaneíras bore his name. Him, Hermês Argeiphontês. Him, Hermês Kyllenios. Him, Hermês Maiados Huios.

And that made all the difference.

Oh, he will be sad and grieve for the ache of his son's broken heart. He may even ask Apollôn to come with him to speak of loving those that had been metamorphosed into flora.

But Hermês will not allow anyone… not his Father nor his Mother. Not the Moirai or Anankê. Not even Khaos and Eros who gave him such a blessing… to keep he from her and her from him.

She was his.

Damn the Great Prophecy.

Olympus to preserve or raze for all he cared in face of her.

Aphroditê spoke of it well, weaving tales together alongside the Mousai. Love could bring the gods to their knees and if he were not careful, he may find his own heartache in the anitiphonal sweet sound of the Mousai singing. To accept the gifts of Melpomenê while unforgetting Kleiô would sing so sweetly? Όχι, he could not allow that. He would see to it that Kalliopê, who is the chiefest of them all, begin the lovely verses; set desire on the song and make the choral dance graceful and Eratô who charms the sight, with thee, Euterpe, ministering delight.

His gaze settled upon her once more, tracing her figure as the school bell rang, and he secreted a promise into his heart.

The Trickster of the Divine, deathless as he be, shall pull off his greatest heist yet.


It was those eyes.

She knew them almost as well as she knew her own.

She only saw them in her dreams.

Intense. As always.

She was the cynosure of his eyes.

He appeared from the shadows when she had been to the teacher's lounge for some assistance. Her body burned starting from the mark atop her breast that she pretended didn't exist down to the tip of her toes. She knew this had something to do with the mark that she had to moisturize daily to stop it from chafing. But at the moment, it was as if she stood on a pyre, doves sang through the air as they locked eyes yet—something was wrong.

He was her stalker. She knew it.

And she was one hundred percent positive that he did not attend Yancy Academy.

He took a step towards her.

And she found herself unable to move, conflicted between running away and stepping closer.

Which was terrifying.

Leaneira Jackson did not believe in soulmates. She didn't do soulmates.

(If soulmates were real, then where was her father? If soulmates were real, why did her Mother look saddened every time she glanced at the black band around her wrist? If soulmates were real, then how did that creep end up with her mother?)

Still—

Lea stared at the teenage boy before her. He was older than her, at least five years her senior. Curly brown hair cradled his face gently as his eyes seemingly glowed under the lowlights of the hall. Lea would not admit that she felt fear in her heart at the sight of the person that had been stalking her for many weeks. He was not her soulmate. He wasn't. He couldn't be. "I–I should turn you in right now," she said. Nervous almost. She felt trapped even when she stood next to the opening to the teacher's lounge. She could at least hear Mr. Brunner within the room and what sounded like Grover?

"You wouldn't," the boy replied, assured in his words. His cheek emits a smile mingled with wrath. His eyes were really pretty, almost drowning her with the intensity as he tilted his head to the side coyly. "Would you?"

She scowled. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't."

"Because…" His eyelashes fluttered against his ambrosian colored skin. He was pretty like the sun hugged him tenderly every morning. "I'm cute." The greens of his eyes softened as he took a step closer to her, pausing when she nearly tripped on her feet to stumble away.

Lea stared.

He stared back.

She turned, opening the door to the teacher's lounge as she ignored Mr. Brunner and Grover to stare blankly in front of her.

And then, through low whispers that was right by her ear—

"Run. Run as fast you can."

She screamed.