Olympian Blood

Chapter 38

Artemis's POV

Christmas.

This time of year always makes me anxious.

Growing up this was when our mother would have her annual Christmas ball. The whole town was invited to dance and eat in the town hall ballroom.

Everything would be beautifully decorated and presents would be given to the orphans in the town, which always brought a smile to my face.

We never woke up to a tree surrounded by presents, honestly, the tree was put up as a prop for our family Christmas cards that would be used as invitations for the ball.

When we were much younger Apollo and I would write to Santa Claus asking him to bring our dad back or at least take us away in his sled to where our dad was. I remember Apollo saying that he once saw Santa one night back when our father was alive. He said he looked just like dad but older with a white beard.

Our hopes were up the first Christmas without our father. We had been good, sent our letters to Santa in the North Pole, and waited by the fireplace under a bundle of blankets with our bags packed. We were ready to see this older looking version of our father. And even if he wasn't our actual dad he could still take us to see him.

We were werewolves and mates are people you are destined to be with so why couldn't Santa Claus be real? And why couldn't he take us to see our father again?

That's how we thought at least. Just two kids missing their father, not understanding that they wouldn't see him again.

After the first three years, we decided that perhaps Santa Claus joined our father to keep him company. Either that or those nasty elves were doing a shitty job of getting our letters to Santa in time.

It didn't matter though because nothing could help get us out of going to mothers Holiday party every year.

We would dress up in tight stuffy clothes, festive colors of course as we were merely props. Set to be displayed as the perfect family everyone should strive and look up to.

It was all bullshit though.

But mother was good at playing pretend and she made sure her dolls played their roles correctly. Especially me.

Each year my mother's public event rules were drilled into my head over and over as if I could forget them.

1. Smile and nod. (Especially during pictures and when spoken to by a town representative)

2. Don't talk to any reporters. ("Don't be smart because I will always be smarter") she'd say.

3. Don't embarrass me, Girl. (Act more like Apollo and Athena)

I always would try and listen to my mother...at least a bit. But It just seemed like the rest of the world or town I should say didn't know of mother's rules for me.

So of course something always had to go wrong.

I have to say I have the worse luck ever. Between reporters trying to get the inside scoop on my "perfect family" from the "delinquent" or "default" of the bunch, and my clumsiness, I never seemed to be able to please my mother.

At one party I opted to just hide under one of the buffet tables. Only for her to find me pulling me up by my wrist that was sure to bruise. Picture time of course how silly of me to forget.

The next year I tried hiding under the stairwell. This time I actually was under the weather. Her fault of course. Though when she found me this time I vomited all over her ruby red ball gown.