I Will Rise

Priam

Glancing at my watch, irritation takes hold, and I start pacing the temple. Halting before the punching bag, I unleash a flurry of punches, relishing the pain that courses through me with each strike. The swell of emotions regarding Cassandra's situation threatens to overwhelm everything in my world. I can't afford to let this control me—I need to be the one in command for her sake.

Cameron's plan for Cassandra has been a blessing for multiple reasons. For one, it finally gives the Vipers access to the brotherhood we weren't privy to previously. With my butterfly at the top, there's absolutely nothing anyone can take from us without dealing with heavy repercussions from both sides. The Brotherhood's outreach in Sparta will be a significant start to settling some matters within the area that have raged on for years.

However, for this union to succeed, Cassandra needs to be at her prime, not the mere shadow she's become. Every blessing comes with a lesson, some might even call it a curse. The gods don't offer anything in this life without a cost.

Each day she spends in tears instead of seeking retribution sets my blood boiling. I've taught her better, and she knows it. Instead of honing her skills, she's retreated to a shell of her former self, the girl before Cameron. She's more fragile than we care to admit, yet she holds the potential to unleash chaos. I've witnessed her take lives for much less, but she opts to drown in grief, clinging to what could have been rather than embracing what was. She's never been one to cling to anything intangible, so this intense grip on her sorrow hints at deeper pain than any of us realize.

Finishing my assault on the punching bag, I notice blood staining my knuckles as the temple door creaks open. Normally, I don't allow myself to succumb to rage, but when it comes to the one child among my lot who's made me proud, the smallest things tend to rile me up.

I grab the small white towel left on the bench, using it to wipe the blood from both the bag and my knuckles before tossing it to the ground out of her immediate view. There's no need to add any more stress to her already burdened plate.

Though our family's name might be linked to a series of murders and other significant crimes in town, it's essential we maintain an appearance of composure, especially in front of our family.

I pivot to face my little butterfly, grateful she decided to join rather than continue wallowing away. Had she not shown up on time, I'm not sure if I'd have immediately gone searching for her. But she had faith that I would, and that was the point. My gaze shifts from the discarded bloody towel on the floor as I complete my turn, encountering a visage of such radiant beauty, mirroring aspects of my butterfly.

"Priam, we need to talk." Athena scans the room, ensuring no one else is present to eavesdrop on what I'm sure will be a crucial conversation in our struggle. The training temple is expansive; Cameron and Cassandra spared no expense in its construction, aiming for the highest standards.

After a 2.5-mile hike through a miniature outdoor obstacle course, heavily wooded and challenging, you're welcomed into a vast room equipped with the finest training gear money can procure. On the far wall, mats for hand-to-hand combat rest beside foam pits with ropes dangling from various ceiling points, providing alternative methods of evasion should standard measures prove challenging.

From end to end, neatly arranged rows boast triple sets of nearly every workout machine imaginable, but the focal point resides dead center: the UFC-style octagon boxing ring.

Cassandra knew this was something I've always wanted her to have in the temple. We trained for years with this in mind, knowing she doesn't just excel in the ring—she dominates. She was destined for destruction from before she was even born.

As a child, she yearned for her mother incessantly, and she remains closed off about it even now. She's still grappling with why anyone, especially the thirteen, would take her away. She doesn't comprehend why they didn't respond when she called for help. She's misplacing her blame, making everything more convoluted than it needs to be. But that's Cassandra—unyielding and resolute in her ways.