I Am Zeus-Chapter 80: Wives Of Zeus 2

A Few Days Later – The Garden Above Olympus

The sky was soft.

Not calm. Just... soft. Like the clouds were watching.

Zeus stood near the edge of the high garden, arms crossed, hair drifting with the breeze. Lightning flickered through his irises now and then, a twitch he hadn’t fully mastered yet. Olympus pulsed below, alive but silent, waiting. He didn’t say much. He didn’t need to.

Because today... they came to him.

One by one.

He felt them before they stepped onto the garden’s sacred stones.

Themis was the first.

She didn’t walk. She glided—regal, draped in white and shadow, her eyes veiled in gold light. Where her feet touched, the flowers straightened. Even the air paused.

"Zeus," she said, voice steady, low.

He turned slightly. "Themis."

She looked at him a little too long. Then stepped forward until she stood beside him.

"I’ve seen how you command silence. And storms," she murmured. "But I wonder... what would you do if someone commanded you?"

He blinked.

Was she teasing him?

Before he could respond, her fingers lifted gently—just enough to brush against his shoulder. A whisper of contact. And yet... the ground trembled faintly under them.

Divine pressure.

She smiled without smiling. "Think on that."

Then stepped back... just as another presence broke through.

Mnemosyne.

If Themis was justice, Mnemosyne was memory given form. Her steps didn’t echo. They reverberated—like the world remembered every one.

"Forgive me," she said softly. "I’ve forgotten what it feels like to admire someone." She paused in front of him, looking up with those timeless, unreadable eyes.

Zeus felt her power coil around him without permission. Not hostile. Not seductive. Just inevitable. Like she was planting something in him—an idea, a moment.

"Don’t forget this," she whispered. "Don’t forget me."

Then she turned—and with her departure came a faint golden shimmer in the air. Like a memory had just happened before it even began.

Zeus exhaled slow. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

What the hell was going on?

He’d known women before. In another life. They were sacred in story—beautiful, untouchable, divine. Some loved. Some feared. Some destroyed.

He used to read about them.

Now they stood before him.

Now they reached for him.

And he wasn’t chasing any of them.

"Hey."

That voice cut through his thoughts like sunlight through mist.

Maia.

The shyest of them.

She wore twilight-blue, her steps quick, almost nervous. She brought the smell of orchards and dusk. Her hair was up, messy. Her cheeks flushed from climbing the stairs.

"I baked those honey cakes again," she said, holding up a little cloth bundle. "You looked like you hadn’t eaten."

Zeus stared at her. "You came all the way up here... for that?"

She smiled, tucking hair behind her ear. "No. I came to see if you’d smile."

He didn’t. But something in him cracked anyway.

Maia stepped close. Not bold like Themis. Not layered like Mnemosyne. Just... there. Real.

She placed the bundle in his hands and touched his wrist with two fingers. Light danced at the contact—tiny, harmless sparks that faded before they fully formed.

"Thanks," Zeus said, voice low.

"Don’t thank me yet," Maia muttered, her face red as she backed off. "Wait till you taste them."

He watched her leave, completely unsure what had just happened.

The storm inside him was confused.

Until the air shimmered again.

Leto appeared without sound.

She didn’t walk. She just was. Her steps didn’t disturb the grass. The flowers turned subtly to follow her as if they were used to her light. She wore a dress of pure moonlight stitched with shadows, and her eyes—those amber things—locked with his like they already knew the outcome.

"I see why Metis stayed," she said, her voice smooth like running water. "You’re not what we expected."

Zeus tilted his head. "That’s good or bad?"

Leto shrugged. "Dangerous."

Then she moved. One step. Just one.

And with it, the entire garden turned golden.

Time slowed. The breeze halted mid-spin. The clouds above froze.

Zeus turned sharply, body tensing.

But Leto just smiled. "Relax. I’m only testing something."

He didn’t speak.

She stepped forward and leaned in—so close her breath warmed his jaw.

"I want to see what kind of god you become," she whispered.

And then, just as the air began to move again, she was gone. Like a dream evaporating before you could hold it.

Zeus was still staring at the space she left when the last presence descended.

Not walked.

Descended.

Metis.

She didn’t look like a goddess.

She looked like herself—robe simple, eyes sharp, baby cradled in her arm.

Athena blinked at him, half-asleep.

Metis didn’t speak right away. She walked until she stood directly in front of him, stared him in the eye, then passed the baby into his arms.

Zeus tensed automatically. "What—?"

"She wanted to see you."

He looked down.

Athena yawned, hand curling around a bit of his tunic.

That damn storm in him slowed.

Metis stood close. Closer than anyone else had dared.

"I see the way they look at you," she said.

Zeus didn’t answer.

"You’re not the man they expected."

He met her eyes. "What am I then?"

She smiled faintly. "A storm waiting for meaning."

Zeus snorted. "That sounds poetic."

"I’m a prophetess. We don’t do casual."

He almost laughed. But didn’t. Not with Athena dozing in his arms.

Metis leaned in, her voice now barely audible. "They won’t fight for you, you know. Not openly. But they’ll circle."

"I noticed."

"You okay with that?"

Zeus tilted his head. "I’m just surprised. I thought I’d be the one doing the chasing."

Metis raised a brow. "Why?"

He didn’t answer.

But she saw something in his silence. Something ancient. Something cracked.

Her voice softened. "You’re not him."

He blinked.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said, shaking her head. "Just thinking."

Zeus handed Athena back carefully. Metis took her and stepped back.

"We won’t push," she said. "Not unless you let us."

Zeus crossed his arms again. "That’s kind of worse."

Metis chuckled. "Then figure it out. You’re our King now. Act like it."

Then she turned and left.

One by one, they had all come.

Touched him.

Tested him.

And none of them waited for his answer.

The garden fell still again.

Zeus stood alone in the middle of it all, pulse quiet, storm quiet, mind loud.

He wasn’t confused.

He just... remembered too much.

That was the problem.

He remembered everything.