Her head bent forward, and our eyes met. I stared deep into them as we both reached our climax. She had taken me from this world and brought me somewhere I didn’t even know existed. For the first time in my life, I felt a little less dark as she brought me into the moonlight.
The image of when he left me plays through my mind. My back was against the cold stone tiles as he stumbled from the cell and out of my life for a thousand years. The silent cries I tried to hide for years afterward. The feeling of being completely alone and knowing he wouldn’t come back, and he hadn’t. I had said damning things there too, and this was just the same. I had pushed and pushed, and it worked. He will no longer be here if I keep this up, and it breaks me. It hurts me more than I want to admit.
How hard could this really be? I know I wanted to pick the right one. It had to be perfect, and the right fit for Atë. I walked up and down the display, looking things over. And then I saw it, right in the middle of the pack. It was brilliant. My smile spread from ear to ear. I hoped she would love it.
Yes, I may be on the hunt for Titans older than literal time, but I also need help. Someone I can trust, but also not tell me how terrible my idea is. Besides, I don’t trust Erebus, especially after how weird he has been recently. Secret phone calls and suddenly having to leave? Nope. I need an assistant of my own, and who better than Chuck?
So many questions ran through my head. The number one being, how did Melisseus always know when my guard was down? Was there a mole within Olympus? Perhaps one of the many Titans that no longer resided in Tartarus? Every god in Olympus was a gossip.
I unfolded a slip of paper and read the note that had been delivered to the house in the middle of the night. It had been signed with a monogram I had come to know as Melisseus’s signature. He was taunting me, trying to lure me out. Not this time. I had learned over the years that demons had many faces. Mine was Melisseus.
The brisk air greets me, lifting parts of my hair as I grip the edge of the balcony with both hands and look over. Clouds form, spreading out beneath the mountain as sunlight dances on my far left. Closing my eyes, I lift myself upward and place my feet on the rails to steady myself. It only hurts for a second, and then I’m free.
Having another male god in the house made me territorial. Not to mention he was a titan. There are only a few titans I trusted. The fact I hadn’t made my mind up yet about Pro put me on edge, especially since he was with Atë.
You have no idea what I’m doing when I’m not here or how I’m literally trying to fix myself. You weren’t there, Erebus. You weren’t locked in Tartarus. You have no idea what I’m feeling or what it’s like. And for one second, let’s stop pretending like you’re some hero helping me. You didn’t do this out of kindness.
Regardless of what happened between us and my callous ways, it proves one thing. Erebus cares for me. Which is a problem. So me being me, I do what I always do. I destroy it. Everything he bought, everything he gave me. Ruined.
I can do this. It is only temporary, right? I survived trying to destroy Olympus and a thousand years in Tartarus. This will be easy. I’ll just live with the man I am in love with but can’t have, try to hunt down two mad titans, avoid my enemies from my past, and control my powers. Piece of cake.
So here I am. I will do the rehab like I am supposed to. Shit, I will do anything just as long as they don’t send me back. The room flickers in the next second, her office changing in a blink to the darkened cell of Tartarus and then back.
It took me the better part of the morning, but I found her. It looked as though she had been on a shopping spree. She was carrying half a dozen bags. Retail therapy, really? Murder spree, epic fight, sex, and shopping. I shrugged to myself. Yeah, that sounded about right. I didn’t want to interrupt what seemed to be a carefree morning for her. Now that she was out, I had all the time in the world to figure out what she was up to.
We work silently, and soon the remains of my doors are in the trash, and Atë’s staring at the floor with a strange expression.
Hitting her affectionately on the shoulder, I murmur, “It’s strange, isn’t it?”
Her eyes turn to mine. “What is?”
With a smirk, I ruffle her hair lightly. “Cleaning up your own mess.”
My back arches and I grind against the caresses, my moans an answer to his groans of pleasure. My pace quickens, and his hips buck in helpless need before I feel his hand tighten in my hair, scrunching it, knotting it, and I know I don’t need godly powers to own him.