I dig in my heels, but Eros easily hauls me along behind him without missing a step. He’s stronger than he looks. Panic rears its ugly head and I try to regulate my breathing. “Eros—”
“I gave my word, Psyche.” He pulls me out into the freezing night air. The ground is slick beneath my boots, but he doesn’t seem to have any trouble with it. “I know that doesn’t mean shit to most people, but it does to me.”
I obviously haven’t learned my lesson, because I honestly believe him. Even knowing he can lie so effectively, the strange look on his face when I said I’d take his word as truth is enough to convince me he means it.
I’ve made my choice. It wasn’t much of a choice, but I’ll stand by it. It’s not until I’m climbing into the passenger seat of his fancy sports car that the implications of what I’ve agreed to really sink in.
Eros starts the engine, and I look at him. “We can’t tell anyone the truth.”
“Who would I tell?” He says it so casually, as if it’s obvious that he has no one close enough to want to trust with what’s really going on. I know he doesn’t have siblings, but surely he has friends? I’ve seen him with the Kasios siblings regularly, but friendships in the upper crust of Olympus are often more political alliances than anything else.
Eros pulls out from behind the bar and onto the street. “That means no telling your sisters.”
“It’s a little more complicated than that. My sisters aren’t going to believe I had a secret whirlwind romance. We tell each other everything.”
“Everything?” He pulls up to an intersection and looks at me. The red from the stoplight plays over his cheekbones and jaw, highlighting his sensually curved lips.
Gods, the man is beautiful. I keep expecting to get used to it, but every time I look at him, it’s a shock to my system. That will wear off. It has to. I can’t imagine being in close contact with him for a prolonged period of time and still being affected on this level. There are plenty of beautiful people in this city who I don’t lose my head around. He’ll number among them within a week. I hope.
Did he say something?
I give myself a shake. “Yes, everything. They won’t believe a secret relationship.”
“Make them believe, Psyche. If word gets out that this is anything but genuine, we’ll both pay the price.”
The sheer weight of what we’re doing has me slumping back in the uncomfortable seat. I shift, but it doesn’t get better. “How long?”
“How long what?”
“How long are we doing this?”
“As long as it takes.”
I stare at him. “That is nowhere near specific enough.”
“Fine.” He shrugs. “Until my mother is no longer Aphrodite.”
That seems more reasonable, but it could still potentially be a long time. There are only three ways for one of the Thirteen to stop holding their title—death, exile, or retirement. I can count on one hand how many have chosen the latter option in the entire history of Olympus. A scattering more have had that option forced on them because health or mental deterioration made it impossible to do their duties. The odds still aren’t in our favor. Aphrodite won’t step down voluntarily, and she’s in her fifties. If left unchecked, she might be around for decades.
I can’t be in a fake marriage for decades. I can’t. I’ve barely let myself dream of love and a family and everything that entails. If I spend twenty years married to Eros, that will nuke those dreams. The knowledge leaves a weight in my chest that is difficult to speak past. “You won’t kill Aphrodite.”
“She’s a monster, but she’s my mother.” He takes another turn, guiding the car north. “I won’t allow you to do something to put her in danger, either.”
That limits our options considerably. I turn and stare out the window. The farther from the warehouse district we get, the more the buildings lining the street change. The bars disappear from the windows. The streets become more pristine and look less grimy. As we enter the blocks around Dodona Tower—Zeus’s seat of power—the storefronts take on a uniform look that’s as soulless as it is flawless.
Several blocks northwest of the tower, Eros turns into an underground parking garage. I manage to stay silent until he parks and turns off the car. We sit there for a moment, the air seeming to gain weight between us. I can’t look at him. This is too dangerous, too volatile. Words bubble up, escaping before I can think better of them. “You know, it strikes me that I’ve already broken the rule about going to a secondary location with someone who means me harm.”