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Chapter 147: poseidon and Artemis
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... his skull. It was ancient, cold, and maddening, like the shifting grind of glaciers under the sea.
"Child of mortality," Thalorin’s voice slithered, deep as the abyss. "You wear a god’s name like a mask, but names do not make gods. Power does. And mine is older than Olympus, older than time itself."
The waters around Poseidon darkened, a pulse of shadow spreading out from his chest. For a heartbeat, the ocean seemed to bow to something deeper than him, something buried. His lungs ...
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