“He is a child!” she argued. “If he is guilty of Hubris, you are, too. Is your pride too wounded to let him live?”

Apollo clenched his fists. “His death is on your hands, Persephone.”

The goddess jumped in front of him, blocking Marsyas from view.

“You will not touch him. You will not hurt him!” She was desperate, and she feared she might lose control. She could feel her magic pulsing, making her flesh tingle and her hair rise.

Apollo laughed. “And how will you stop me?”

Apollo’s magic surrounding her, suffocating her with the smell of laurel. She glared at him.

“Now,” he turned back to Marsyas. “Let the skinning begin.”

Persephone felt nauseous.

This can’t be happening.

Apollo summoned a blade from thin air, its edges gleamed beneath the burning lights.

Persephone struggled to free herself, but the more she resisted, the heavier Apollo’s magic felt.

She watched, wide-eyed and terrified as Apollo knelt before the satyr, and pressed the blade to his cheek.

When she saw blood drip down his face, she lost control.

“Stop!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. Her magic fled from her body. It was an unusual feeling, like it was coming out of all her pores and her mouth and her eyes. It burned as if it were tearing skin and blinded as if it were pure light.

When the feeling faded, she was shocked to find everyone frozen: Apollo, his men, the crowd, everyone except Marsyas.

The satyr stared at Persephone, face pale and stained with crimson from the wound Apollo had made.

“Y-you’re a goddess.”

Persephone rushed to him and tried to pry the man’s fingers from the satyr’s arm, but they were wrapped too tightly. Frantic, she looked for another option. She didn’t know how long her magic would hold. She wasn’t even sure how she’d managed to freeze the whole room.

Then her eyes fell to the knife Apollo held inches from Marsyas’ face. She reached for it, and the slick handle slipping from his grasp. She took a few deep breaths before cutting into the man’s fingers so that Marsyas could free himself.

“Run,” she said.

“He will find me!” he argued, rubbing his arm.

“I promise you he won’t come after you again,” she said. “Go!”

The satyr obeyed.

She waited until he was out of sight to turn to Apollo and kick him hard in the balls.

The release of aggression was enough, and the whole room came to life again.

“Motherfucker!” the man behind her roared clutching his hand to his chest while Apollo collapsed to the ground, groveling.

Persephone loomed over him.

“Don’t you ever put me in that situation again,” Persephone’s voice shook with anger. Apollo breathed heavily, glaring up at her. “We might have an agreement, but I will not be used. Fuck you.”

She left the building with a smile on her face.