Henry threw Walter against the wall so hard that it fractured, leaving a web of cracks behind. “I will see you pay for this if it is the last thing I do,” he growled.

“Enough.” My mother’s voice rang out, and both brothers turned toward her. She looked pale, and she folded her hands in front of her the way she did when she was trying to keep herself under control. “We will rescue Kate. There is still time, and the more we waste—”

“We cannot risk our efforts for the life of one,” said Walter.

“Then I will,” snarled Henry.

Walter shook his head. “It is far too dangerous for you to go alone.”

“He won’t be alone,” said my mother. “And if you value your hold over the council—”

The muscles in my back and belly contracted, and the pain pulled me from my vision. Back in the bathroom, I let out a soft sob. My mother was wrong—we were out of time. The baby was coming no matter how hard I tried to wait. Calliope would kill it, and there was no one here to stop her. Whether or not anyone came, there was no way out of this. Even if Henry and my mother did attack the island, there was no guarantee they would break through Cronus’s defenses, and by then it would be too late anyway.

The baby nudged me from the inside, and I forced myself to pull it together. I had to do this. I couldn’t break down. The baby’s life depended on it.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, gently pressing against the spot where it had kicked me. “I love you, okay? I’m not going to stop fighting until you’re safe, I promise.”

Someone rapped on the door, and I jumped. “Don’t think you’re going to give birth in the bathtub,” said Calliope. “You’re not having that baby until I say you are.”

“Just a minute,” I called, and I stood long enough to turn on the faucet and drown out my whispers in case she was eavesdropping. It wouldn’t do much good, but the illusion of privacy would have to be enough for now.

Easing back down onto the edge of the bathtub, I rubbed my belly. “Your dad’s really great, and you’ll get to see him soon, okay? He’s not going to let Calliope do this to you either, and he’s way more powerful than me. The whole family is. Today is probably going to be scary, and it’ll hurt—well, it’ll hurt me, I won’t let them hurt you—but in the end, it’ll be okay. I promise.”

It wasn’t an empty promise. Even if I had to die in the process, Calliope would not touch my baby. No matter what it took, I would make sure of it.

* * *

Labor progressed so quickly that I barely made it out of the bathroom. Calliope gave me nothing to help, no medication or words of encouragement, and though Cronus remained by my side, he said nothing as my contractions grew closer and closer together. They had to know the others were coming. There was no other reason to force the baby out like this, and I couldn’t imagine Calliope giving up the chance to make me hurt as long as possible, not unless it was dire.

I refused to scream. Even in the final moments of labor, as the baby ripped through my body, I clenched my jaw and pushed through the pain. Since I’d become immortal, the only thing that had hurt me was Cronus, and apparently giving birth was another exception. My body was doing this to itself, and immortality wasn’t going to stop it.

The moment the baby left me, I felt as if my heart had been ripped from my chest and now rested in Calliope’s arms. She straightened, and a lump formed in my throat as I saw the wrinkled, bloody infant she held. “It’s a boy,” she said, and she smiled. “Perfect.”

Somehow, despite the words I’d whispered to him, the hours I’d spent feeling him kick, and the months I’d carried him, he had never felt completely real. But now—

That was my son.

That was my son, and Calliope was going to kill him.

She didn’t need any tools to cut the cord or finish the rest of the messy birth; in the blink of an eye, everything was clean, and the baby was wrapped in a white blanket. As if she’d done it a thousand times before, she cradled him and stood, leaving me alone on the bed.

“Wait,” I said in a choked voice. I was exhausted and drenched in sweat, and despite the pain, I struggled to get up. “You can’t—please, I’ll do anything, just don’t hurt my son.”

His wails, so tiny and helpless, filled the room, and my heart crumbled. Every bone in my body demanded that I stand, that I go to him and save him from the pain that awaited him, but I couldn’t move. The harder I struggled, the more I froze, and the more my body ached.

Calliope looked at me, her eyes bright and full of malice. She was enjoying this. She was reveling in my pain. “That’s not for you to decide, dear Kate.”

At the edge of my vision, I saw Cronus shift. “You will not hurt the child,” he said, his voice low and full of thunder. “That is not a request.”

Her eyes narrowed. She was going to challenge him. Use my son to prove her dominance—that she was the one in control. But she wasn’t, and she knew it. And for the first time since I’d heard of the King of the Titans, I was grateful for him.

“Fine,” she said in an annoyed voice, as if she were only letting him win because she wanted to. We both knew the truth. “I won’t kill him.”

Relief swept through me like a drug, and I released the breath I’d been holding. Because of Cronus, he would live. “Please, can I—can I hold my son?”