Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Not Olympus falling apart around us, violence rising with each day.
Not Eris, married to another man—a man who is partially responsible for that rise in violence.
“Adonis.”
I hate how small Eris sounds, hate it so much I finish with the last bandage on her right leg before I look up to meet her gaze, giving myself time to control my expression. “Yes?”
Eris opens her mouth, but seems to reconsider whatever she was about to say at the last moment. “Thank you for coming. I know I don’t deserve this, but…thank you for being here.”
I finish bandaging her second leg in silence. By the time I’m done, she’s weaving a bit, clearly exhausted. “Have you eaten anything?” I noticed takeout bags in the kitchen when I arrived, but I’d been too focused on getting to her to investigate.
“No, but I’m not hungry.”
I give her the look that statement deserves. “Eat something and then you’re going to bed.”
She narrows her eyes. “I don’t need a keeper.”
“Don’t you?” I push to my feet. “You’re doing a bang-up job of taking care of yourself lately.” More words bubble up, ones that have no satisfactory answer. Eris has never had any qualms about the fact she puts this city before everything. When we first started dating, I thought it terribly heroic.
That was before I knew the cost.
“This city is going to kill you,” I grind out.
“Maybe.” She tucks her hair behind her ears and slides off the counter. “But at this point, we can only deal with the circumstances we have instead of the ones we want.” With each word, she sounds more like herself and less fragile. “I have no intention of dying, Adonis. I can promise you that.”
She doesn’t bother to keep the towel wrapped around her as she walks away from us. I know this woman’s body as well as my own—the curve of her waist, the dimples at the top of her perfect ass, the two crooked fingers on her left hand from when her father slammed it in a door when she was fifteen and broke them. Everyone thought it was because she fell during ballet practice. I’m the only one she told the truth to.
I have to turn away, but that doesn’t help because Theseus is still here, still wrapped in that damned towel, still watching us as if taking mental notes. And why not? I doubt he learned much in the way of comfort and softness in Minos’s household.
Things would be so much simpler if I only wanted Eris. I drag my hand over my face and speak softly, pitching my voice to only carry to him. “I am very angry with you.”
Theseus nods slowly. “Yeah. I get that.”
“You get that. I—”
He snags me around the waist and drags me against him. It’s similar to the moment when I pinned him against the shower wall, but even with the obvious threat, I can’t help staring at his mouth. If he smiled right now, I might punch him in the face, but he just looks vaguely tormented, as if he’s not any happier with how things have developed than I am.
Theseus squeezes my hip. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t want her dead?”
“No.” But I want to. Gods, how I want to. I want to so desperately, it shakes me. “You hate her.”
“Yeah, I guess.” His gaze tracks toward Eris’s closet. “Feels more complicated than hate these days. She’s a monster, maybe even my monster. I don’t like seeing her declawed.”
He sees her. Actually sees her. Not the wild-child party-girl persona she picks up and sheds like clothing. Not the cold Aphrodite who makes calls solely to save her city.
Eris. Woman. Monster.
Mine.
Except she’s not mine any longer, is she? She’s his.
Having sex with this man was a mistake. I knew it when it happened, but with my foolish heart lurching in my chest as if trying to close the distance between us further, I have to admit exactly how thoroughly I’ve screwed myself.
I’m falling for my ex’s husband.
And I’m still in love with my ex.
23
APHRODITE
If someone told me a week ago that I’d be sharing a tense meal with my ex and my husband, I would have laughed them out of the room. I fully intended to stay as far from Adonis as possible, and the only time I planned to be in Hephaestus’s presence is when I’m driving him out of his mind with rage.
He’s not out of his mind right now.
He’s eating with a single-minded intensity that reminds me a bit of one of Helen’s partners, Achilles. As if he grew up not entirely trusting his next meal was guaranteed. It makes me feel strange. More so, it’s strange how domestic this is. Hephaestus put his jeans back on, but didn’t bother with a shirt. Adonis has pulled on a pair of lounge pants left over from one of the many times he spent the night.