Vowed to Hades (Romancing the Seas #4)

Epilogue

EPILOGUE

D eep in the Underworld, Loki stood before a stunned Hades and Persephone, fury clawing at his neck, constricting his throat. He swallowed.

He had worked so hard and had come so far… This defeat was a crushing blow.

He glared at the King and Queen of the Underworld, who were too lost in their thoughts to respond right away.

He had hoped that Hades was too wrapped up in the drama around Persephone and her lost memories to care about the bones of Osiris. Though, he did have his doubts when Zeus commanded him to hand them over.

Olympia was not his first choice for a safe place to store the bones. But Zeus assured him that Hades would never get his filthy hands on them.

Sadly for all, Zeus had seriously underestimated Hades .

“Is this another one of your tricks, Loki?” Persephone snapped. Her eyes flashed at him in a way he had not seen for a long time.

If he was not so consumed by rage that Osiris was back, he might have commented on it. But instead, he squared his shoulders and lifted his chin.

“Believe it or not, I am not your enemy. Why would I waste time manipulating you when I have bigger problems to worry about?”

“Well, if what you are saying is true, it looks like your problems are our problems now,” Hades said, pacing.

His cloak billowed out behind him as he took long strides. Then he barked an order, and several Devil Men rushed silently into the throne room.

He murmured into the ear of the closest one, and they promptly filed out of the room.

Loki’s eyes narrowed on Hades. “What are you planning?”

Hades paced again, while Persephone wrung her hands.

“I need to know if you’re telling me the truth.”

But before anyone could react, a portal opened, and Hermes stepped through.

He had two scrolls tucked under his arm, and his eyes widened when they landed on Loki.

He turned back to Hades, who had thrown his hands in the air. “For heaven’s sake, how many people are planning to show up unannounced today?”

Hermes’s cheeks lifted for a moment, and his forehead reddened. But then he cleared his throat and handed a scroll to Hades and the other to Loki.

“I am to give you a message from Lord Osiris.”

Persephone stepped closer to Hermes, her eyes wide. “So, he lives? Have you seen him? Is it true what Loki is saying?”

Hermes’s shoulders lifted, and he tilted his head to give Loki a sideways look. But then he bit his lip for a moment. “I am here to deliver a message, that is all. I must go, I have many gods to visit tonight.”

“Tonight? Why must you deliver them all in one night?”

Hermes’s jaw bulged as he avoided Loki’s pressing question. Then in a flash, he stepped back through the portal and disappeared.

Hades wasted no time in unraveling his scroll and had read it before Loki had a chance to break the seal of his.

“What is it, what does it say?” Persephone’s voice was curt, but Loki picked up a hint of panic in her tone.

He watched Hades closely, his features twisted into disdain.

Then he looked up and met Loki’s stare. “Come, Persephone, my queen. We need to get ready.”

“Ready for what?” Persephone asked.

But Hades did not reply, instead he walked away. Just as he reached the hall, he turned to give Loki a nod. “I’ll let you see yourself out.”

Now alone in the throne room, Loki unrolled his scroll and read the elegant writing addressed to him .

T o Loki, the Norse God of Fire and Mischief,

I t is with great pleasure that we announce the resurrection of Lord Osiris, the first Pharaoh of Egypt, Chief Judge of the Underworld, and God of the Dead.

Osiris has requested that you attend a sacred banquet in his honor.

This will be an evening of festivity and oneness. In refusing to attend, you are considered enemy to the Lord.

Come to Imerta as the sun rises over the East. Put aside your grudges and ill-feelings, and break bread with the fine divinities of the world.

We are anxious to share good news with you.

Sincerely

I sis and Osiris

L oki gritted his teeth and lowered the scroll. Then he pulled the pocket watch from inside his robe and sighed.

Not even a day had passed since Osiris’s resurrection, and they were already plotting the destruction of the world.

What else could the big plan entail ?

He shut his eyes and took in a breath to calm his anger. The next steps required a clear mind.

Then he formed a portal and marched through.

L oki stood outside the banquet hall in Imerta, the dark air swirling around him, thick with the scent of jasmine and something sour. His fingers tightened around the neck of the wine bottle he’d snatched from the reception table, the liquid already warming his blood.

He had no desire to walk through those doors—no desire to see Osiris, alive and breathing once again.

A bitter laugh escaped his lips as he tipped the bottle back, swallowing hard. Resurrected. Osiris had been dead for centuries, locked in the tombs of time, and now here he was, throwing banquets and sending out gilded invitations like some returning king.

Loki wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, his vision swimming just slightly. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, the rage simmering in his gut, or both.

He glanced at the banquet doors, watching the shadowy figures of gods moving inside, mingling, their voices a low hum of conversation.

It felt wrong. All of it. The whole event reeked of false celebration, of something sinister lurking just beneath the surface .

But he had to go in. If nothing else, he needed to understand Osiris’s true plan. And he knew, deep down, that whatever was about to unfold was far from a simple celebration.

Loki sighed, pulling himself together, the cold steel of his mind slicing through the fog of drunkenness. He slipped the wine bottle into his cloak and pushed the heavy doors open.

The room fell into a hush as Loki entered. His gaze swept across the opulent hall, the faces of gods and goddesses staring back at him—some with disdain, others with veiled curiosity.

He spotted Zeus at the far end of the table, his eyes narrowing as they met Loki’s. A few seats down, Hera whispered something to Apollo, who glanced at Loki and chuckled darkly.

The tension in the room was palpable, suffocating, but Loki was used to it. He had always been the outlier, the trickster. The unwanted guest at every divine gathering.

He raised his chin, straightened his shoulders, and sauntered into the hall with the practiced ease of someone who had nothing to lose.

At the head of the table sat Osiris and Isis, their regal forms radiating power. Osiris, newly resurrected, looked every bit the God of the Dead—his skin pale and smooth like marble, his eyes gleaming with a wisdom that made Loki’s stomach turn.

Beside him, Isis was resplendent in her golden gown, her eyes sharp and calculating as they locked onto Loki .

"Loki," Osiris’s voice boomed through the hall, drawing all attention to the God of Fire and Mischief. "Welcome to my banquet."

Loki forced a smile, a lazy, insolent grin that masked the tension coiling in his chest. "I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Osiris."

His voice was smooth, but his gaze flicked to the goblet in Osiris’s hand, wondering what poison this celebration really held.

The gods resumed their conversations as Loki took his seat, but the air was still thick with animosity.

He could feel the eyes on him, the judgment, the whispers of his past betrayals and treacheries. It was almost amusing how predictable they were, how none of them truly understood him—nor cared to.

As the banquet unfolded, the conversations swirled around him, gods and goddesses toasting Osiris, hailing his return as if it were the start of some new golden age.

But Loki couldn’t shake the feeling that it was all a fa?ade. That the gods’ excitement was a thin veil, hiding a more dangerous game at play.

Midway through the feast, Osiris rose, lifting his goblet. "Friends, brothers, and sisters," he began, his voice low and commanding. "Tonight, we celebrate not just my return, but the unity of the gods. For too long, we have allowed ourselves to be divided, distracted by petty squabbles and ancient grudges."

His gaze flickered briefly to Loki, and the corners of his mouth twitched. "But the real threat is not us. It’s the humans. The mortals who have grown arrogant and reckless, who think they can defy the gods."

The room fell silent, and Loki’s heart thudded in his chest.

So, that was it. That was Osiris’s grand vision—unite the gods against the humans.

Osiris’s eyes swept the room. "The time has come for us to stand together, to remind the mortals of their place. To reclaim the power that is rightfully ours."

There was a murmur of approval from the gathered gods, but Loki remained silent, his mind racing.

This wasn’t just a celebration. It was a rallying cry—a call to arms.

As the banquet came to a close, the gods began to disperse, leaving in small groups, their faces alight with the promise of power.

Loki stayed seated, watching as Osiris and Isis rose from the table, their eyes locking onto him.

"Loki," Osiris called, his voice smooth and inviting. "Join us for a moment, won’t you?"

Loki’s stomach tightened, but he stood, forcing a casual smile. "Of course."

He followed them out of the banquet hall and down a long, dark corridor, the flickering torchlight casting eerie shadows on the stone walls.

The further they walked, the more the air thickened with tension, until they reached a set of grand doors leading to the throne room.

As the doors creaked open, Loki stepped inside, feeling the weight of what was about to happen settle on his shoulders.

Isis and Osiris took their seats on twin thrones, their expressions unreadable.

"You killed Poseidon," Isis said, her voice cold and sharp as a blade. "And Ava."

Loki’s jaw clenched. "I did what I had to."

Osiris tilted his head, his gaze dark and calculating. "And now, we shall do what we have to."

Loki inwardly winced. “You are going to kill me? What about all that talk of setting grudges aside? Or was that all talk?”

Isis sneered at him. “You will pay for what you did, but do not make assumptions. Death is too kind for you. No, you will suffer a fate far worse than death.”

Before Loki could respond, Osiris raised his hand, and a powerful wave of energy surged through the room, knocking Loki to his knees.

He gasped, feeling his strength drain from his body, his powers stripped away in an instant.

"No!" Loki tried to rise, but his limbs were heavy, useless.

"You are no longer a god, Loki," Isis said, her voice filled with contempt. "Now, you are nothing."

With a flick of her wrist, a portal opened behind him, swirling with dark energy.

Loki barely had time to react before the force of the portal sucked him in, hurtling him through time and space.

He landed hard, his body slamming into the ground with a sickening thud. His head struck an uprooted tree with a smack.

Pain shot through him, and he groaned, struggling to sit up.

Then he touched his head and withdrew his hand to stare at the blood on his fingers. This was not a trick. Somehow, he was no longer a god.

He knew that Osiris was powerful, but he had no idea the god had the ability to strip another god of his powers.

The world spun, and he hissed at the pain as he tried to get to his feet.

Already, his human body was broken and sore. Weak.

He stumbled and fell to his knees again.

The fall must have cracked a rib or two , he thought, as each breath was laborsome.

He looked around him. The air was cold, damp, and unfamiliar. He blinked, trying to focus, and realized he was in a forest. A palace of white stone set on a hill, next to the sea.

Loki wiped sweat from his upper lip with the back of his hand and scowled at the church bells ringing in the distance. His stomach knotted as his mind connected the dots, and he made sense of where he’d been banished.

England.

He cursed under his breath and tried to piece together what had just happened.

Loki was powerless. Stripped of everything.

Alone .

Footsteps crunched through the underbrush, and Loki tensed, his hand instinctively reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there.

From the shadows, a figure emerged—a woman draped in a long, red cloak, the hem brushing the damp earth as she stepped forward. A flash of auburn hair glinted in the moonlight, twisted into a thick braid that fell over her shoulder. Her bright hazel eyes, flecked with gold, locked onto his with sharp intensity, a scattering of freckles dusting her nose and cheeks.

“You’re hurt,” she whispered, her voice low and urgent. Without hesitation, she whistled, and a horse appeared from the trees, its dark eyes gleaming. “Get on, quick.”

Loki opened his mouth to argue, but the steady, unyielding glare from the woman froze his words. There was a dangerous certainty in her eyes that made him pause.

“My father likes to hunt in these woods. If he finds you, you’ll be dead before you can take a bow.” Her voice cut through the night like a blade. “Now come with me.”

For the first time in centuries, Loki felt a ripple of something unfamiliar—powerlessness—and, begrudgingly, he accepted her hand.

“Why are you helping me? Who are you?” Loki asked as the woman climbed on the horse behind him.

Her body was warm and squishy against his back as she reached round to grab the reins .

Loki stiffened, but then he got a waft of her floral scent as she craned her head to look at him.

“Do not fear me. I am nothing like my father. I will nurse you back to health, I promise.”

Loki frowned, his temples throbbing as they bounced on the galloping horse. “Who is your father?” he grumbled, as a mixture of the pain and the drink swirled in his body making him slump over in defeat.

The woman’s voice floated into his ear like a song as he shut his eyes and tried not to vomit.

“My father is King Richard, of course.”

Loki’s heart sank as the realization dawned on him.

This was no mere coincidence. He had been cast into the heart of the enemy's domain, powerless and at the mercy of the very humans Osiris wanted to crush.

With that final thought, Loki passed out.

— R ead Loki’s book in Tricked by the Enemy, book 5 in the Romancing the Seas series. Written by Athena Rose.