I look down at the sleeping woman between us. “She’s gotten very good about masking it when she gets scared.”
“Yeah, I got that now.” He hesitates. “I am not your ally. Thinking of me as one is a mistake.”
“Are you saying that to convince me…or yourself?”
Another of those world-weary sighs. “I can’t be, Adonis. You can’t rely on me, and you’d be a fucking fool to trust me with anything.”
He’s right. He’s been nothing but honest from the beginning, which is an irony in and of itself. Theseus Vitalis, enemy to Olympus and yet more truthful than anyone else in this blasted city. I don’t know what he means to do next in service of his foster father, but he’s already done plenty. Trusting him is a mistake.
And yet…
“I trusted you with my body last night.” The words are little more than a whisper. “I trusted you with hers tonight. That means something.”
“Don’t.”
The temptation to press him is nearly overwhelming. He might be a monster, but I can’t escape the gentle way he touched me. Or the fact that he took care of Eris in his own way, first when he saved her life and then again tonight. That means something, too, no matter how obviously uncomfortable it makes him. “What if there was another way? A way to not be standing on opposite sides of this line?”
“There’s not.” He catches my chin and drags his thumb over my bottom lip. For a moment, conflict shows in his eyes, but then he drops his hand to drape over Eris’s body. “There’s not,” Theseus repeats. “This doesn’t end happy with us. When it ends, it’s in blood and tears.”
26
APHRODITE
I wake up feeling more relaxed than I have in months. I know it’s a lie the moment I open my eyes and see the two men in my bed. Adonis sleeps in his customary position—on his side. I’ve always found it odd that the man never moves when he sleeps. But then, Adonis doesn’t have the same tumultuous relationship with sleep that I do. I toss and turn, and it slips through my fingers night after night. He simply closes his eyes and lets it take him.
Hephaestus is another thing entirely. He’s on the other side of Adonis, sprawled over more than his fair share of the bed, one big arm and leg tossed over the other man.
I shift, and have to talk down the surge of warmth that rises when I realize he’s clasped my hip with one hand and that Adonis has one arm draped over my waist.
Last night can’t mean anything.
Adonis is my ex for good reason, and my husband is my enemy. It doesn’t matter that they took care of me in a truly inventive way, or that it felt particularly cathartic to release some of the pent-up messy emotions between me and Adonis.
In a few hours, we will be standing on the opposite side of the line from each other at a meeting among the Thirteen. I cannot afford to soften to him, or start to think traitorous thoughts about how maybe he isn’t that bad. He is that bad. It’s the entire reason I married him.
My body feels heavy, but it’s a lie. I have to get moving. There’s a meeting to attend and a destabilizing city to fix. I can’t stay here in this strange little alternate reality where I don’t really hate my husband and I might have a future with the man I love.
That, more than anything, gets me moving. I learned early on the price of wishing on stars. It doesn’t change anything, and the inevitable disappointment can crush your soul if you’re not careful. Better to work within the boundaries of what’s real instead of what you wish was real.
I check the clock, which shows I have plenty of time before I need to be in Dodona Tower for my brother’s meeting. Gods alone only know what Perseus has come up with in the meantime.
All he wanted was stability and a better Olympus than our father left us.
Look at us now, being hunted in the streets like prey.
I take a quick trip to the bathroom and snag my robe off the back of the door. I don’t know if I’ll kick Adonis out or leave him here, but if he’s content to sleep… Well, someone might as well get extra sleep. I should let Hephaestus sleep right through the meeting. It’s the strategic thing to do. But somehow I’m reaching over Adonis and tapping Hephaestus’s shoulder. “You won’t want to be late for this meeting. Get up.”
“Five minutes.” He tucks his face into the side of Adonis’s throat. “Just five fucking minutes.”
“Suit yourself.” I hate how well rested I feel. Two full nights of sleep in a row, both of them spent with my husband in my bed. No use thinking about that. Nothing good can come of it. I slip out of the bedroom and pad down the hall toward my kitchen. I’m never conflicted. I don’t have the time or luxury for this kind of spinning out.