CHAPTER NINETY-FIVE

**OLIVER**
The air by the river was thick with humidity, the faint scent of damp earth and wildflowers hanging in the breeze. It was quiet here, almost eerily so. The water flowed lazily, its surface reflecting the pale light of the crescent moon above.
I stood at the edge, staring at the dark water that had become both a place of solace and a constant reminder of the goddess’s grip on my life. Tonight, it felt heavier, darker—like it was waiting.
My thoughts were a jumbled mess, tangled with anger, frustration, and guilt. Carrie’s words from the night before echoed in my head, her mocking laughter refusing to fade. It felt like a taunt, a cruel reminder of a choice I hadn’t made willingly but one that now carried consequences I couldn’t ignore.
And Gabriel… Gabriel, with his steady presence and gentle concern, had no idea about the storm brewing beneath the surface. His touch, his voice, even his smallest gestures—it all served as a painful reminder of how much I stood to lose if the truth came out.
I needed answers. I needed help.
The riverbank was quiet, the air thick with the scent of earth and damp foliage. I knelt by the water’s edge, the damp soil sinking beneath my knees and staining the fabric of my jeans. My hands trembled as I reached for the small satchel I had brought with me, filled with offerings I hoped would appease her—or at the very least, summon her.
Inside the satchel were dried lavender, a small vial of honey, and a polished piece of quartz I had found weeks ago. I had chosen each item carefully, each one infused with the hope that it would please her enough to grant me an audience. The ritual was familiar now, though it still carried an air of unease, as if every offering was a gamble, every prayer a risk.
I arranged the items carefully by the water’s edge, placing them in a neat line. The quartz gleamed faintly in the fading light, and the honey glistened like liquid gold inside its tiny vial. The lavender, brittle and fragrant, felt delicate in my hands as I set it down.
The river was still, its surface smooth as glass, reflecting the sky above. I stared at it for a long moment, willing her to appear, to acknowledge the offering. My throat tightened as I whispered the words I had memorized, a soft plea that sounded too much like desperation. 
“Please,” I continued, a note of desperation creeping into my tone. “Hear me. I need your wisdom.”
For a moment, nothing happened. The river remained quiet, the night air heavy with silence.
And then, the water began to ripple.
It started at the center of the river, faint at first, then growing stronger, the ripples spreading outward until the entire surface shimmered. A low hum filled the air, vibrating through the ground beneath me.
She rose slowly, her form emerging from the water like a vision. Her silver hair cascaded down her back, flowing like liquid mercury, and her eyes glowed faintly, otherworldly. She wore a faint smile, as though amused by my summoning.
“Oliver,” she said, her voice soft but carrying an undeniable power. “What troubles you this time?”
I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay calm. “It’s Carrie,” I said, my voice tight. “She won’t stop calling me, won’t stop tormenting me. Why aren’t you doing anything about it?”
The goddess tilted her head slightly, her smile widening. “That is a mortal problem,” she said simply.
Her answer made my stomach twist. “A mortal problem?” I repeated, disbelief thick in my voice.
She didn’t elaborate, her glowing eyes fixed on me with a calm indifference.
I felt a wave of frustration rise in my chest. She wasn’t taking this seriously—she never did.
“I don’t understand,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “How can you say it’s not your problem when you’re the reason all of this is happening? You’re the one who wanted this!”
The goddess didn’t respond immediately. She simply watched me, her smile never faltering, her eyes glinting with something between amusement and cruelty. It was as if my anger, my defiance, were nothing more than an entertaining diversion in her eternal existence.
The silence stretched, each second dragging on like an eternity. My breaths came fast and uneven, the rage boiling under my skin threatening to spill over. But she remained calm, unshaken, her gaze locked on mine with a predatory intensity that made my stomach twist. 
“And then there’s Gabriel,” I continued, my words spilling out before I could stop them. “He doesn’t know about any of this—about Carrie, about the baby. And every day, I feel like I’m lying to him, like I’m betraying him. How am I supposed to fix this?”
The goddess raised a delicate eyebrow. “I fail to see the issue,” she said, her tone almost dismissive. “If one man no longer serves you, why not find another? Humans are born stupid, but at least you have variety.”
Her words struck a nerve, and before I knew it, the anger that had been simmering inside me boiled over.
“You’re unbelievable,” I spat, my voice shaking with fury. “You’re selfish. You’re a selfish bitch who doesn’t care about anyone but herself.”
The smile vanished from her face, her glowing eyes narrowing.
“You don’t care about me, about Gabriel, about Carrie—about anyone!” I shouted, the words tumbling out in a rush. “You sit here in your river, playing goddess, pulling strings, and ruining lives, and for what? What do you even gain from this? What have you ever done for me besides destroy everything I care about?”
The air around me seemed to grow heavier, the temperature dropping sharply.
“You dare,” the goddess said, her voice low and dangerous, “to speak to me like that?”
The river began to churn, waves forming out of nowhere, crashing against the banks with a force that sent water splashing over my boots. The air grew hotter, the surface of the water beginning to steam.
“You ungrateful wretch,” she continued, her voice echoing with a power that made my knees shake. “You should be on your knees, thanking me for my benevolence. Without me, you are nothing.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but the words caught in my throat as the heat intensified, the water boiling and bubbling.
“You do not want to anger me, Oliver,” she said, raising a hand. “You do not want to see what happens to those who disrespect their goddess.”
Her hand moved, and I felt it instantly.
Pain shot through my left arm, sharp and sudden, like a thousand needles tearing through muscle and bone. It was a searing, white-hot agony that forced a strangled cry from my throat. The intensity of it stole my breath, and for a moment, the world around me blurred, reduced to the pulsating throb of pain radiating from my arm.
I stumbled, clutching my arm with my right hand, desperate to understand what was happening. My fingers brushed against skin that felt unnaturally cold, almost lifeless. I tried to flex my hand, but it refused to respond, hanging limp at my side as though disconnected from the rest of me. 
“What are you doing?” I gasped, panic rising in my chest.
She ignored me, her other hand rising.
This time, the pain was in my eye—a searing, blinding pain that made me stagger backward, clutching at my face. When I opened my right eye, the world was tilted, uneven. My left eye saw nothing but darkness.
I fell to my knees, the pain and disorientation overwhelming me.
“You should be grateful for my mercy,” the goddess said coldly, her voice cutting through the haze of agony. “If I wished, I could kill you where you stand. But I won’t. Because I am kind.”
Her words were like venom, each one twisting the knife she had already plunged into me.
“Kind?” I rasped, barely able to form the word.
“Yes,” she said, her voice calm again, as though nothing had happened. “You should remember that, Oliver. You should remember what happens to those who defy me.”
I stayed on my knees, the boiling water lapping at the edges of the bank, my arm hanging limp at my side, my vision a blur of darkness and faint light.
“Now go,” she said, her tone dismissive. “And do not summon me again unless you have something worthwhile to say.”
With that, she disappeared, the river calming almost instantly, its tumultuous waves smoothing out into a deceptive tranquility, as though nothing had happened. But everything had happened.
My body felt heavy, weighed down by the intensity of what had just transpired. The pain in my arm was relentless, a dull, throbbing ache that pulsed in rhythm with my pounding heart. My eye, though unmarked on the outside, burned as though her power still lingered there, etched into my very being.
I sat there on the riverbank for what felt like hours, the dampness of the earth soaking through my clothes. My mind raced, replaying her words and the way she had looked at me—cold, commanding, and utterly in control. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the image of her smirk, the glint of satisfaction in her eyes as she’d spoken.