PROLOGUE

Anonymously told stories are the best, because you cannot distinguish between the hero and the villain.

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When they say that darkness and coldness do not have a particular shape or form, they lie.

Tartarus is where the darkness grows claws and holds your neck in a permanent choke-hold, so hard that the air cannot even escape your lungs. The coldness wraps around your very being like shackles, so unbreakable that your life is trapped just as cruelly as the air within your lungs.

In Tartarus, breathing is a luxury. Yet, the heart tries to push the burning golden fluid through the parched veins - only to extend the duration of the cruel torture, and drag it into the dark sea of eternity.

Immortality is cruel. No one feels that way while sitting on the Olympian throne. But as my father's mocking, breathless laughter rises from within the darkness's vice grip and pierces my senses through the icy silence of Tartarus, I have the epiphany of an eternity.

But then, the gates of Tartarus are created open, and the grayish light filters into my prison after a few torturous aeons, I cannot help the glint in my own eyes.

Gray is now my favourite colour.

Freedom. Power. Revenge.

The three words resonate in my mind as I agree to be a part of a deal that is certain to backfire. Even my filth of a father warns me. But I do not care, as long as I can breathe again. As long as I can escape Tartarus.

So, I say yes.

I let the light of the day greet me, and I let a spell turn me into an innocent-looking child in a rose field.

I smirk as I hold a sword for the first time in aeons.

Not all conquests start from men in shining armours racing on horsebacks. The conquests that are truly won are the ones that start from a child's greedy touch on a glinting sword's edge.

And then I see her.

Gray eyes. The definition of perfection.

Gray is indeed my favourite colour.

Even more so now, than ever.

Some other man would've possibly tried to free himself from the darkness that comes along with the greed of winning Mount Olympus back. But my aeons have taught me a truth that I imbibe into her beautiful mind from the very first day.

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People don't live in the darkness. It's the darkness that lives in them.

Because only a darkness greater than Tartarus could've defeated its confines. And I don't mind being the villain, as long as I have her.