Under the Water(Fem. Percy)

Chapter 34

Most of my interactions with Cyreus after that are fights. Well, 'fights' probably isn't the right word for it. Snide words and comments on my end, cold silence from him. My hands shake just thinking about those. Not from anger. No, I might be mad at him, but I don't want to hurt him. I don't, and that's the issue.

He lingers in my rooms like he did when he was first assigned. Like a statue tucked against a wall. A statue that will break, bleed, or bruise if I let my emotions get the best of me. It won't be on purpose. But I have a breaking point, and my powers are going to push against it until they can run free.

This is the exact reason why I never got involved with anyone before.

"I don't want you here," I say suddenly.

"You don't mean that."

"You knew." Water swirls around my hands. I take a deep breath and settle it. The necklace has only made my control worse. "You knew why Dad was keeping me here, and you knew I kept trying to run away, and you didn't tell me. So yes, Cyreus, I don't want you here. Because I know I can't trust gods, but I had hoped I could at least trust you."

Mistake after mistake. That's all I can keep making. Why did I ever think someone who lives a life where my dad is involved would ever have my best interests at heart?

"You need to go," I say. It comes off more like begging. Something must show in my eyes--some fear or worry--because he moves towards me. I scowl. That's the opposite of what I said, you idiot.

"I'm supposed to protect you." His soft hands grab my arms. "I can't do that if--"

I shove him out of the room and slam the door in his face. With a sigh, I slide down the cool surface. Bubbling, roiling. Not yet. Not...until he's gone. You've done this before, I tell myself. This isn't anything different.

A soft thud. "Percy..."

"Leave me alone."

"I'm going to have Tulia take my duties. Or do you want Orthello?"

I don't respond.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

As soon as his footsteps fade away, a storm tears through my room.

* * *

"Oh, depths, what did you do?" Tulia picks her way around the debris, balancing food on a tray. "It looks like a burst current hit this place."

"My powers aren't always a good thing." I sigh and scrub my face. "I don't think I'll have enough control to move this around." Even if I did, I don't have the energy to sort through anything. Broken shelves. Broken chairs. Chunks of stone. Finding the pieces of the broken mobile was exhausting enough.

I turn a shard over in my hand and resist the urge to cry.

Dad's going to be pissed. This...this is one of the few things he had from when I was little; something he must've given me. And it's bad enough to have destroyed the room--he won't care that I didn't mean to, that I couldn't keep my powers under control.

People at Camp never cared.

Maybe that's why it was so easy for them to be turned against me. If what Dad said is even true. That draws a weird feeling in my chest, and I close my eyes. There's no reason for him to lie. Shouldn't it be a good thing that a god is telling me the truth?

So why does it hurt so much?

The plates on the tray rattle.

"Sorry," I choke out, forcing my powers down. "I...I need to not be awake." Nightmares are the only issue. The terror and fear can just as easily stir my powers up as my waking emotions do. Tulia won't be safe in here. Turning on my heels, I gather up blankets, pillows, and the one intact cushion from an armchair and build a small pile between the upturned table and a chunk of stone.